And they were “roommates”
Abby Anderson x F!Reader x Ellie Williams
Main Masterlist | Abby Anderson Masterlist
*Important post regarding TLOU + Neil Druckmann’s Zionism!Please educate yourselves, folks!*
Author’s note: Thank you to @proxima-writes for the idea! And thank you to @amanitacowboy for beta reading and giving me the push to write this 🤍
Summary: The rent is too damn high in Seattle, forcing you to look for roommates. When you spot an ad on Craigslist for two women looking for someone to fill their third bedroom, you decide to take them up on the offer.
Word count: 5k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied, no outbreak AU, the year is not specified, Ellie is 21, reader is 23, Abby is 25, bi!reader, Abby “no homo” Anderson, threesome, fingering, oral sex, strap sucking, strap fucking (reader and Ellie receiving) sub!Ellie, sub!reader (but also switch leaning), dom!Abby, squirting, cum eating, orgasm delay/denial, pet names (good girl, baby), no use of y/n
Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs
Living in Seattle has taught you two things: the rent is too damn expensive and having a roommate is crucial. So as your lease on your current apartment is about to end, you scour the internet for a new place and a roommate. And that’s when you find the perfect ad on Craigslist.
“Wanted: One roommate to move into the third bedroom of our apartment. Women only. Rent will be split between the three of us. For more information, contact Ellie Williams at 206-333-5522”
The words that caught your eye were women only. It seems promising enough. Doesn’t hurt to give this Ellie person a call.
You pick up your phone and dial the number for Ellie, half expecting the ad to be fake and to hear a man’s voice on the other side of the line.
But you were wrong.
“Hello?” a woman’s voice answers. You estimate she’s somewhere in her mid-twenties.
“Hi, I just saw your ad on Craigslist? For a roommate?”
“Oh, right. Well, first tell me a little bit about yourself and then we can set up a time for you to come see the place.”
You tell her your name and say, “Well, uh, I’m an intern at the Seattle Times. I’m twenty-three. And my lease is ending at my current apartment.”
“Okay. I’m Ellie and my roommate is Abby. I’m twenty-one and Abby’s twenty-five. I work at the planetarium at the Pacific Science Center and she’s a personal trainer… Can I ask why you’re not renewing your lease at your current place?”
“Too expensive.”
“What are you paying now?”
“About fifteen hundred a month.”
“Oh, you’ll get a much better deal here. Twenty-one hundred a month split three ways.”
“Shit, really?”
“Yeah, we lucked out with this place. But we need another roommate as soon as possible. When do you want to come look at the apartment?”
“Are you free this afternoon?”
“This afternoon?”
“Unless that’s too short notice-”
“That’s fine. What time?”
“Around five or so? It’ll be after Abby’s out of work.”
You pull the phone away from your ear and glance at the time— two in the afternoon. You’ve still got a few hours.
“Sure. What’s the address?”
“505 Walnut Street. We’ll meet you outside.”
That’s only a couple of streets over from you. It should be an easy move if this works out.
“Sounds good. See you then.”
“See you then,” she repeats before hanging up.
To kill time until the meeting, you look up the building on Google. It’s a cute, older brick building with a lot of charm, in a nice neighborhood, too. But as five o’clock rolls around, you leave your apartment and start to walk to theirs. You hope it goes well and that both of them seem to like you. You’ve never had a roommate before, not even in college. And going from no roommates to two is a big jump.
You turn the corner onto Walnut Street, walking on the even side of the street. Two women are standing in front of the brick building you saw online, presumably Ellie and Abby. The taller one, who has to be Abby judging by how buff she is, notices you coming their way and points you out to the shorter one, making that one Ellie.
“Nice to meet you,” the shorter one says, holding out her hand, “I’m Ellie.”
As you shake her hand you notice the tattoo on her forearm; a moth with a fern. She’s cute with shoulder-length auburn hair and green eyes. She seems nice enough. Ellie gestures to the other one and says, “This is Abby.”
Abby shakes your hand and you’re amazed at the sheer size of her. Her handshake is solid, the palm of her hand covered with callouses, presumably from weights at the gym.
“Nice to meet you both,” you say, followed by your name.
Ellie leads you inside and Abby follows behind, holding the door open for you.
“It’s up a few flights of stairs,” Ellie says, “Hope you don’t mind.”
“Fine by me.”
It’s a fourth-floor walk-up, coincidentally the top floor, too. Ellie lets you inside and from what you can see already fifteen hundred dollars it’s a steal. She leads you through the apartment, starting in the kitchen and to the living room. Down the hallway are the bedrooms and the bathroom. She shows you the bathroom first then what would be your bedroom. You take a look around. It’s big enough to hold most if not all of your furniture from your current room. But then you also think about the furniture you’ll have to get rid of since they have things like a kitchen table and a living room couch already. The thought has you stressed and now you’re fixating on just how you’re going to move out and get rid of your shit.
“Do you like it?” Abby asks the first time she’s addressed you. You look her in the eye, and notice more about her; her blue eyes, the freckles spread across the bridge of her nose and her cheeks, and how shiny her skin is, most likely from sweat. You think about her working out and the thought has you staring off into space.
“Is that a yes?” she chuckles, snapping you from your thoughts.
“I do! Sorry, I was thinking about where my stuff would go… And how much of a pain in the ass it’ll be to get it all here,” you joke.
“Where do you live now?” she says.
“Cypress Street. Six hundred block.”
“That’s not far from here. I can help you.”
“Really? You’d do that?”
“Yeah if it’ll help you move in faster… We need someone soon,” she explains.
“I think you got yourself a deal. But I just want to ask, why women only?”
“Can you blame us,” Ellie snorts.
“Well, no,” you chuckle.
“I just have to ask before you say yes… I’m gay. Is that going to be a problem for you?”
“No,” you chuckle, “I’m bi myself.”
“Oh, okay,” Ellie says, letting out a sigh of relief.
“What about-” you start.
“Straight,” Abby says, finishing your thought for you before turning and leaving the room.
“So when can you move in?” Ellie asks.
“Two weeks?”
“Works for us. And she’s serious about helping you by the way.”
“Really?”
“Mhm,” she nods.
“Thanks. I’ll give you a call soon then?”
“Sounds good,” she affirms.
“Alright, then. We’ll be in touch,” you say as she leads you to the door. You were going to say goodbye to Abby but you hear the shower running. And now your mind is thinking about her in the steamy shower… skin peppered in droplets of water…
That makes you realize you’re attracted to both of your soon-to-be roommates. And that could be a problem. At least you know there’s no chance with Abby. But Ellie on the other hand…
Guess you’ll have to wait and see how this goes.
-
Two weeks go by and you’re standing in your almost empty apartment, watching Abby lift everything with ease. Ellie helps, too, but Abby noticeably carries the heavier stuff. Anything you had that Abby and Ellie already did is getting put into a storage unit. And after a long day of clearing out your old apartment, making storage unit runs, and moving into your new bedroom, you’re finally starting to get settled in.
Just as you flop down on your bed, you hear a knock on the door.
“We’re gonna watch a movie… Wanna join?” Ellie asks, poking her head in. She’s not making eye contact with you and her face is blushed… She’s nervous.
“Sure,” you say, getting off your bed and meeting her in the hallway.
You follow her to the living room where she sits on the opposite side of the couch from Abby, leaving you to sit… in between them.
“So what are we watching?” you ask, gingerly sitting down.
“Oh uh-”
“Breakfast Club,” Abby says.
“Interstellar,” Ellie suggests.
“No way! You’ll fall asleep,” Abby says.
“No I won’t,” Ellie says defensively.
“You always do. Any movie that’s over three hours long, you pass right out.”
“But Breakfast Club is so fucking boring-”
“You’re being rude. Ask her what she wants,” Abby says, cutting Ellie off.
“You’re right. What do you want to watch?” Ellie says.
“Uhh… Interstellar’s fine with me. I don’t think I’ve watched it all the way yet.”
“It’s because you keep falling asleep, isn’t it?” Abby says, stifling a laugh.
“Shut up,” Ellie sighs, rolling her eyes.
“You guys fight like an old married couple,” you tease, “But you did not just call Breakfast Club boring,” you shoot at Ellie.
“Told you,” Abby says, leaning back against the couch and turning on the TV.
-
After the second act of Interstellar, you realize that Abby is right… because you and Ellie are falling asleep.
You vaguely hear the TV turn off followed by Abby muttering to herself.
“I told them both,” she sighs, getting up and heading to bed.
Ellie’s already passed out and you’re too lazy to get up, resigning to falling asleep on the couch.
-
You wake up with your cheek pressed against something warm… something soft, something humanlike. You open your eyes and all you can see in the dark is the vague outline of Ellie. Somehow in your sleep, you met each other in the middle, falling asleep on her chest, head tucked into the crook of her neck.
You really should get up but she’s so warm and comfortable…
You couldn’t move if you tried.
-
Ellie wakes up with a startle, not realizing what happened in her sleep. But she’s not mad at it. Instead, she brushes her thumb on the back of your head, wrapping her other arm around you. As soon as she does that, you jolt awake, poking your head up and meeting her eyes in the darkness. She moves her hands away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.
But when you say, “No… Keep doing that,” everything changes.
You crash your lips into hers, a little sloppy at first as you both find each other. She tastes like her minty toothpaste, her breath cool and tickly as she moves against you. You shift so you’re hovering directly over her, reaching for her inner thigh before stopping to ask, “Is this okay?”
“More than okay,” she breathes out, spreading her legs apart for you.
You place your knee by her pussy, giving her enough contact to grind herself against it. You reach down and kiss her again, feeling the way she writhes underneath you, hips wantonly moving back and forth. She moans into the kiss, desperate for more contact and you oblige, pushing your knee taught against her as your lips move down her neck. Moans escape her mouth and you quietly remind her in her ear, “Gotta stay quiet. Don’t want to wake her.”
You chuckle before replacing your lips against her neck, inching down to her collarbone. You’re determined to give her a hickey in a place Abby won’t be able to see so you pull her shirt collarbone, sucking and nipping at her soft skin. She does her best to choke back her moans as she gets herself off on your knee. Eventually, the movement of her hips goes erratic and she bites her lip, trying desperately to stay quiet.
“Good girl,” you tell her, reaching your hand down between her thighs. Your hand slides up her sleep shorts where you find… no panties.
“No panties, Ellie? Naughty girl.”
She whimpers in response, moving her hips again, letting her know she wants your fingers.
“Use your words,” you tease.
“Fingers… please,” she softly moans.
You bring your fingers to your mouth, moistening your pointer and middle fingers for her. One finger teases her entrance, slowly circling it before pushing inside her. She bites back a moan, moving her hips and already begging for more. But you don’t give it to her yet, curling your finger painstakingly slowly.
“Please, I need more,” she whispers.
“Since you asked nicely,” you tease, pushing a second finger in.
You tell even in the darkness her mouth falls open, jaw going slack. You kiss along her jawline, slowly making your way to the spot where her neck meets her ear while you curl your fingers against her g-spot. But with the addition of your thumb rubbing circles around her clit, she cums hard. Her pussy clenches around your fingers and she lets out quiet moans of pleasure.
“Good girl,” you whisper against her ear, letting her ride out her high before pulling back and resting on your heels. You bring your fingers to your mouth, tasting her spend. Somehow that makes everything real for you… making you realize you just fingered your roommate of only a few hours.
Way to go, you think to yourself.
“Sorry about that,” you whisper, quickly getting off the couch and making a dash for your room. You close the door and flop down onto your bed, wondering what the fuck you just got yourself into. So much for not being attracted to your roommates. At least the other one is straight.
-
You wake up to the glimmering sunlight peeking in through the curtains. The memories of last night immediately flood your mind. You can’t avoid this at all. Aside from the obvious fact that you and Ellie are roommates, you both have the day off today. You remember her telling you during the process of moving yesterday because she offered to help you decorate your new room.
You’ll have to face her eventually.
Pulling yourself out of bed, you sleepily drag your feet through the hallway and into the kitchen. She’s already there, sitting at the kitchen table, so the time to rip off the band-aid is now.
But first, you head to the coffee machine, and grab a mug from the cabinet before asking her, “Do you want any?”
“No thanks. I don’t like coffee,” she responds.
“Gotcha,” you say awkwardly, wishing the tension would dissipate.
After a beat of silence, you say, “I’m sorry for you know… last night.”
“You’re sorry?”
“Well, I mean probably not the best thing to do with your brand new roommate,” you continue, grabbing the creamer from the refrigerator.
“Who said that’s a bad thing? It’s like having a live-in friends-with-benefits situation.”
She’s surprisingly cool with this.
“Really?” you ask, shutting the door and turning to face her with your mug in hand.
“Really,” she affirms, “As long as we set some ground rules.”
“Like what?” you ask, sitting across from her.
“Keep it platonic and Abby can’t find out.”
The platonic thing definitely won’t last but sure. Why can’t Abby find out?
“Why can’t she-”
“She’ll give me shit. I just don’t feel like dealing with it,” she says.
It’s probably not the best to keep secrets from one roommate but you also just started sleeping with the other.
“Fine by me,” you say, sipping on your coffee.
-
That was the start of your purely sexual relationship with Ellie. You’ve spent the past few weeks sneaking around behind Abby’s back, fucking on your days off when Abby’s already gone to bed or early in the morning after she’s already left for the gym. Your bedroom is in between theirs so when you fuck you opt to use Ellie’s room since it’s a little bit farther away from Abby’s. There’s been a few close calls where Abby came home earlier from work than expected, or where her date got canceled. Ellie thinks Abby’s suspicious of you two but you convince her otherwise, telling her that Abby probably just assumes you’re close because you have similar work schedules and see more of each other. At least that’s what you hope she thinks.
-
You’re about to do your nightly routine of sneaking into Ellie’s room after Abby’s gone to bed. Tiptoeing down the hallway, you open Ellie’s door slowly, quietly entering her room and guiding the door shut so it doesn’t slam against the frame.
“I have a surprise,” Ellie says.
“Oh yeah?” you ask with a smirk, “And what would that be?”
She lifts her pillow to reveal a strap-on, black harness with a pink dildo. But you’re left wondering which of you two is actually going to use it…
The truth is, you and Ellie are both subs. Sometimes you lean towards being a switch but you’re both subs at heart.
“Who’s gonna wear it?” you ask, your eyes not leaving the strap-on.
“I was thinking you could… use the strap?”
“Uhh-”
“Listen I know you’re a sub but-”
“Yeah, I’m a sub.”
“I think you’d be a good dom!” she says, picking up the strap and walking towards you.
You sigh loudly, pressing your palms to your eyes and saying, “I’m glad you think that but I’m just not a dom.”
Suddenly a knock on Ellie’s door interrupts you before either of you can say anything else.
“Can I come in?” Abby asks.
Ellie hastily shoves the strap-on under her pillow and says, “Come in!”
Abby opens the door and leans against the doorframe, a small smile gracing her lips. She’s wearing her classic sleep attire; a light gray tank top and patterned boxers. This pair is blue with rain clouds on them.
“Can you two keep it down?”
“Of course. Sorry, Abs,” you say.
But she doesn’t move. She stays there in the door frame with her smile growing wider.
“Anything else?” Ellie asks.
“Yes, actually,” she says, standing up straight, “I’m just wondering how two subs made it this long.
“What?” you and Ellie say in unison.
“You heard me.”
“What do you mean?” you ask.
“I guess I should clarify. I heard you two about three weeks ago.”
“You knew this whole time?” Ellie asks, her face going pale.
“Pretty much,” she shrugs.
“And what do you have to say about this?” Ellie continues.
“I just think you two need to know what it’s like to be dommed.”
“Oh yeah? By who?” you counter.
“Oh shut up and get on the bed. Both of you,” she commands, rolling her eyes.
You and Ellie exchange glances, staying still for a moment. Which prompts Abby to say, “Do you need to be told again?”
You scramble to the bed, sitting side by side with Ellie. Abby walks to the edge of the bed, crouching down in front of the two of you.
“Now Ellie, where’s this strap?”
Ellie reaches for her pillow, lifting it and handing the strap to Abby.
“Just for your smart mouth, you get to watch me fuck her first,” Abby says to you.
Your mouth falls open, watching as it all unfolds before you. Ellie stands from the bed and strips, lying back down and spreading her legs. Abby inches closer, arms locking around Ellie’s thighs as she eats her out. The sight is so fucking hot and you have the urge to touch yourself. But as you open your thighs and inch your hand down by your groin, Abby stops you, poking her head up.
“I didn’t say you could do that,” she says, her chin glistening with Ellie’s wetness under the moonlight peeking in from the window.
“Sorry,” you say quickly, removing your hand and snapping your legs shut.
Abby returns to eating Ellie out, her eyes glancing up at her while Ellie’s back arches up off the bed. It looks like she’s about to cum soon. But before she can Abby pulls away, rising from the floor and grabbing the strap beside her. She sheds her clothes and puts on the strap, grabbing Ellie by her hair and hoisting her upright.
“Be a good girl and suck my cock,” she commands, holding Ellie’s face in front of the tip of the strap. Ellie opens her mouth and takes as much as she can in her mouth. It’s hot watching her do this considering she’s never sucked a dick before or even a strap for that matter, but she’s got the spirit.
But once Abby decides she’s done enough, she pushes Ellie back down on the bed, kneeling in between her legs. Abby lifts Ellie by her hips, angling her to the tip of the trap. Abby pushes into Ellie, eliciting a moan from deep within her.
“Doing such a good job, taking my cock like such a good girl,” Abby says, looking down at her.
Ellie can only respond with a string of choked-up moans. Her grip on Ellie’s hips is firm, holding her steady as Abby plows into her. You feel the wetness pool between your legs, your jaw going slack as you watch Abby fuck Ellie, not sure which one you want to be more.
With one last slam of Abby’s hips, Ellie cums around the strap, writhing under Abby’s grasp. Abby holds her still as she rides out her high. You notice her eyes are glassy with tears, threatening to spill over. A tear escapes her right eye, rolling down her cheek. Abby reaches forward, swiping it away with her thumb and praising Ellie.
“Such a good girl,” she says, “I bet you’re spent.”
Ellie nods, sighing as Abby removes the strap inside her.
“You can have a break while I take care of this one,” Abby continues, turning towards you. She takes a step closer to you, towering over you as looks down at you with a smirk on her face.
“I think I need to make an example out of you. You know, show Ellie over here what happens when you’re bad.”
You sit upright, looking up at her wide-eyed as if she’ll show you any mercy.
“Strip,” she commands, placing a hand on her hip.
You stand from the bed, the tip of the strap making contact with your thigh as you pull your t-shirt over your head. The strap is slick, sliding against your skin. You know what it tastes like– Ellie’s spend, and you want it. That is if Abby will let you, of course.
You kick off your sleep shorts, standing in front of Abby completely bare. A shiver runs down your spine in anticipation of what she’s going to do next. She leans forward and pushes you down on the bed, spreading your thighs apart. Situating herself in between your legs, she hovers over your face and grabs your chin.
“You don’t get to cum until I say so. Got it?”
“Y-Yes,” you breathe out, voice dripping with arousal.
She takes two fingers, brushing them across your lips before commanding, “Open.”
You open your mouth, letting her place them inside.
“Now suck.”
Closing your lips and beginning to suck her fingers, you maintain eye contact with her, being sure to never break it. You swirl your tongue around her fingers, getting them nice and wet for what she’s about to do, which you assume is fingering you. But you’re being punished, who knows what she has up her sleeve?
“That’s a good girl,” she says, drawing her fingers away from your mouth. “So far,” she quickly adds.
Resting on her heels, she leans back, the bright pink strap sticking straight out and still glistening. She runs her fingers along your pussy, spreading around the wetness that’s already there. She slides one finger in at first but her hands are so big that it already feels amazing. She curls it against your walls, her eyes studying you for physical reactions to her touch.
“Remember what I said?” she asks.
“Don’t cum without permission,” you say.
“Good,” she praises, pushing her finger up against your g-spot.
You look over at Ellie who’s watching you both with an astounded expression on her face. Probably because she never thought she would see her supposedly straight roommate dom her other roommate.
“Hey, eyes on me,” Abby commands.
You tear your gaze away from Ellie, looking back at Abby who replaces her hand on your chin again. She inserts another finger inside you, keeping the movement she’s using slow. Already your orgasm is starting to build up but you do your best to keep it at bay.
“You’re being so good for me,” she coos.
You let out a breathy moan in response, walls tensing up in anticipation of a big release. From your toes to your ears your body feels tingly. She can sense you getting close but she doesn’t say anything yet, wanting to see if you’ll ask for permission.
“Can I please cum, Abby?” you whimper.
“I don’t know. Have you earned it?”
“Please, Abby. I can’t hold on anymore,” you whine.
“Do it. Cum on my fingers, baby,” she purrs, keeping her grip on your chin tight. You need something to hold onto– the sheets, the pillows, something. But something possesses you to grab Abby’s braid, without permission but you have a feeling she’ll like it. You reach a hand up and grab her braid in the middle tugging on it as your orgasm threatens to break loose.
The hair-pulling does something for her because she utters a low “Oh fuck.”
That’s when you finally let go, allowing yourself to succumb to the orgasm. But it’s more than just a regular orgasm. You squirted, feeling your release soak her hand, your thighs, and the sheets beneath you. Abby tears her gaze away from you to look between your legs, watching as your spend leaks out of you. She looks back at you and says, “You squirted.”
“I know… Was I not supposed to?”
She doesn’t respond, instead, she crashes her lips into yours. Before pulling away and hovering a couple of inches over your face.
“I need you to do that again and again,” she says, kissing you one more time before pulling back and resting on her heels.
“O-Okay,” you say, your body still shuttering.
“What the fuck?! I’ve never gotten you to do that before,” Ellie says.
“See, that’s why you needed me to show you,” Abby sighs, getting off the bed. “Now both of you get up.”
You and Ellie both stand up, standing awkwardly side by side as Abby lies down on the bed.
“Shit, your sheets are soaked, El,”
“I don’t even care. That shit was hot,” Ellie says.
“So what are we doing now?” you ask.
“Now it’s time for the reward. You get my cock since you squirted.”
“Oh, okay,” you say nervously, moving on the bed to straddle her. You sink down onto the strap, letting it expand your walls before you start moving. Abby reaches her hands towards your breasts, caressing the outline of them before taking your nipples in between her fingertips, not pinching them harshly but playing with them, all slow and soft.
“Ride my cock, baby,” she commands, “But remember you have to ask to cum.”
You nod, starting to rock your hips back and forth. You place your hands on her chest for support. But your cheeks heat up when you realize you put your hands right over her breasts. She doesn’t care though, letting you do what you need to fuck yourself on her cock. She slides her hands down to your waist, guiding your movements. Your walls tense up like they did before, getting ready to cum again.
“Abby… Can I cum again?”
“Mhm. Show me how you cum on my cock,” she says, holding your waist tighter.
You cum again, ringing in your second one for the night. The movement of your hips grows sloppy as you ride out your high, this one deeper than the last. But eventually, you slow to a stop, staying with the strap inside you and waiting for further instructions.
“Alright, get in here, too,” Abby says to Ellie.
“Where do I-”
“Where do you think?” Abby says sarcastically.
Ellie moves onto the bed, straddling Abby’s face. She lowers herself so her pussy is directly over Abby’s mouth, gasping at the feeling. You begin grinding against the strap again, but this time you lean forward towards Ellie. She meets you in the middle, lips colliding with yours. The both of you moan into each other’s mouths, orgasms already impending due to how sensitive you both are. You cum around the strap, moaning into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss with Ellie, marking your third orgasm of the night. She cums, too, judging by the sounds she’s making. You feel your release drip out of your pussy and run down your thighs. Judging by how wet it is, you squirted again much to Abby’s delight.
Ellie tears herself away from you to flop down onto the bed, completely exhausted. You lean forward and rest on Abby’s chest, her hand rubbing small circles on your back. And the three of you stay there just like that for a moment, your skin slick with sweat and radiating heat. It’s… nice and you could truly fall asleep like this, naked and pressed up against your roommates. It can’t last forever, though, because eventually, Abby has to get up and go to bed.
“I have to get up early in the morning so I’ll leave you two… to whatever you were doing before,” she says as you move off of her. She gets up from the bed and takes off the strap, reaching for her clothes. But before she goes you have to poke fun at her again.
“So much for being straight, huh?” you ask as she gets dressed.
She shoots you a death glare but you continue the joke.
“Aw come on. Just admit you wanna fuck me and Ellie.”
“Watch your mouth,” she says sharply, turning and shutting the door behind her, leaving you and Ellie to erupt into a fit of laughter.
Tag list: @littlegrungegirlaf @fhatbhabie @sweetercalypso @chrry1ovr @certifiedelliekisser @bunnyboop03 @hausofblossom @ibatman @pretty-forest-nymph @ellieslizzies @reinersbigolboobies @saltandpepperchicken @localshitpoststore @liaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @merciiss @genderfluidlesbain999 @ellieswifee
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Outlawed*
Summary: The fifth and final part to Knockout*
The one where Harry just wants to fight, and you just want to love him.
Word Count: 10k (folks...we made it!)
Content Warning: 18+, smut, blood, violence, brief use of a knife, pain kink, size kink
“Cherry?”
Instantly, your head lifts. The familiarly warm nickname sewing up the frayed seams of your heart and sending it into a tizzy.
However, instead of the handsome stranger you’ve come to miss, you find Owen. Eyebrow raised and expression curious.
With a quick clear of your throat, you pull your attention back. “What?”
“Cherry,” he repeats, nodding now toward the pastry in front of you. “Is it cherry tonight?”
You look down as well. “Oh, uh, yeah. Yup.”
“Hm.” His lips press together in thought. “I like the cherry. The way you make it, it’s…it’s sweet. But just a bit sour.”
“Yup...”
“It’s very good.”
“Thanks.”
His hands disappear into his pockets with a short nod of his head. “I know the customers really like it, too. Get comments about it all the time.”
“That’s good.”
“You could probably make it every night. If you wanted.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
There’s a bit of a tense lull now as you continue rolling the dough, and you notice Owen begin to shift just out of your peripheral. He doesn’t normally hover when you’re working, not unless he’s got something he’d like to talk about, and his lingering glances make your insides begin to itch.
So, you raise a brow, and look over. “Is something…wrong?”
“Hm? Oh, no. No, not at all,” he stammers. “I just…wanted to check in. See how you’re feeling.”
Curious, you straighten up.“Oh…why?”
“Well, I’ve just noticed how quiet you’ve been,” he explains. “And I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Just…trying to get my work done.”
He steps closer. “I noticed your friend hasn’t been coming around as much. The sullen one, with the dark clothes and broody temper?”
And despite everything else, you can’t help but smile at the memories. “Oh, yeah, well…I don’t think he’ll be coming by anymore. Don’t worry.”
“Ah.” A brief pause. “Is it because of Jesse?”
Instantly, you lean back, pulling the rolling pin away from the counter in surprise. “What?”
“Jesse. The other boy who was in here,” he says. “The tall, snobby one in the fancy clothes? Kind of annoying?”
“I…yeah.” Your lashes flutter. “I guess, I mean. They don’t really…get along. But…it’s probably my fault, too.”
He hums to himself almost contemplatively. “You’re not back with him, are you? The Jesse one?”
“Uh…no. Why?”
“I just…I don’t like him,” he sighs, arms crossing over his apron. “I think he’s trouble, and truth be told, you don’t always look that happy when he’s around.”
And you know he’s right, although you are a little surprised that he noticed. “Oh…well, no. No, not at all.”
“Good. Good.” He nods again. “Honestly, you can do a lot better than him, darling. Especially considering everything else he’s involved in.”
Now slightly more startled, your head tilts. “What do you mean?”
“Well…you know,” he begins, moving even closer before lowering his voice. “I don’t want to talk out of turn, and I certainly don’t want to scare you, but…I imagine you already know a little of what he really does, yeah?”
And even though you should know better than to answer, and even though you have Harry’s stern voice ringing in your ear not to trust him…you nod.
“Right, well…I know how much trouble that might put you in,” he continues. “And I know that with the fighting, and the betting, and the outsourcing…I’d hate to see you get dragged down with him—”
“Wait, what? What outsourcing?”
After a quick glance around the rather empty kitchen, Owen sighs, and murmurs, “Look, I don’t know everything, but a few months ago, he approached me with a proposal. He explained about the fights, and about the betting, and said that I’d be making easy money. That it was a guaranteed win because his fighter never lost.”
And suddenly, the image of Harry in that ring – night after night, hit after hit – paints itself across the forefront of your mind. You lose your breath, chest constricting with the thought of all the pain he endures at Jesse’s hand.
“And from what I could tell, he was taking the betting outside of the fights,” he explains. “I don’t know where or to how many other people, but he was pretty confident. And truth be told, I started to wonder if he’d maybe rigged it.”
“Rigged it? How?”
He shrugs. “I’m not really sure. Maybe he was paying the other fighter to lose or maybe he was paying his fighter extra to make sure he always won. Either way, I said no, and he took his business elsewhere. I think he was afraid of getting caught.”
And it makes sense. Every little detail clicking into place as you recall that night at the match. Jesse’s threat and his insistence on Harry’s win. Harry’s refusal not to play his game.
You straighten up. “Right.”
“Look, I just…I don’t want to see you get dragged down with him,” Owen finishes softly. “You’re a good kid, and he’s…you can do better. You can do a lot better than him, and I hope you know that.”
And you do now.
“Thanks,” you murmur before placing the rolling pin down. “I know this is a bit last minute, but is there any way I might be able to leave early today? I think I need to go find him.”
“Yeah. No problem.” He checks his watch. “Joshua’s supposed to be coming in soon. I could have him cover for you if you’d like to leave now.”
“Really? Would that be all right?”
“Sure. The pies probably won’t be as good as when you make ‘em, but…” He throws you a smile and you laugh. “Do what you need to do. And if you need any help, just give me a call, okay, darling?”
Nodding quickly, you wipe your hands down the front of your apron before ripping it off. “Of course. Thank you so much, I really appreciate it.”
“Anytime.”
You’re out the diner door in under two minutes, nearly sprinting to your car as you work out a plan.
You’re almost positive that outside betting goes against the league’s rules (although you wonder if an illegal, underground fighting society even has any rules at all). But especially if it means Jesse ends up making more money on each fight than anyone else actually involved. The fighters included.
And if Jesse truly doesn’t want anyone else to know, you might have just found your loophole. A way to get him out of the picture and still keep Harry safe.
You aren’t sure where to start. Truth be told, you aren’t sure what you’ll even say. But perhaps you don’t have to say much. Perhaps you only need Jesse to know that you know, and he’ll take care of the rest.
You head for the one place you know he might be. Your heart aches to call Harry, but without an address, a last name, or a phone number, you don’t really have very many options. You can only hope that he’ll find you once this is all over.
When you finally make it into the darker part of town, your pulse begins to pound. Slamming against the sides of your ribcage as you pull up to the familiar building and park. Right beside the only other car in the lot.
It’s not until you step out that you realize who it is.
“Well, well, well,” Jesse calls with a devious smirk, exiting his vehicle as well. “What a surprise, sugarplum. Come to watch tonight’s big fight?”
You take in a brave breath and begin toward him. “No. I’m here to talk to you.”
His brow raises, but he seems relaxed. In fact, far too relaxed for your liking. “I see. And can I assume this has something to do with your little boytoy?”
“Not quite. But it does have to do with you.”
“Ah.” He grins to himself before dramatically gesturing toward the warehouse. “Then, by all means.”
So, with a shallow exhale, you oblige, trailing after him and toward the front door just as you did the other night. It’s an eerie deja-vu.
And perhaps you should feel a bit more nervous than you do, but deep down, you know him. You know that he’s lacking any real emotion or regret, and maybe, that might just give you an edge.
After typing in the passcode, he leads you inside. The once glorious space now dark and empty. Sporting nothing but the large boxing ring and the stunning chandelier.
“I’ve gotta be honest, sugarplum, I don’t know what you said to him…but it worked,” he begins as you both walk further into the room. “I’ve never seen him fight like that before.”
You purse your lips together in an effort to resist screaming at him. “Well, that’s what you wanted, right?”
“It is.” He stops near the ring and turns around, leaning on it as he studies you. “And I knew you’d come through.”
“Great. So, you’ll leave him alone now, right?”
“As long as he wins, sure.”
“You mean, as long as he makes you money.”
His arms cross now, and that smug expression makes you want to slug him. “As long as he does what he gets paid to do, then there won’t be a problem.”
“Right. And as long as you can keep outsourcing the bets.”
For the first time, he hesitates, that arrogant grin slipping ever-so-slightly as he raises his chin. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I stutter?” You step closer, and you notice him tense. “The money that you outsource to other bettors. The money that you make – that Harry makes you – on these fights every time he wins.”
His jaw ticks. “You don’t know what you’re talking about—”
“No? You wanna bet on that?”
And you don't think you've ever seen him so livid. Not even on his worst night when you were together, and your insides begin to wrench.
But before he can reply – before he can really do anything – a door opens. Allowing a rather bright stream of light into the warehouse as you and Jesse both reach up to shield your eyes.
And then...you see him.
Harry.
It takes him a moment to understand what he’s really looking at, but you catch the exact second he realizes. The way his face contorts and his fingers curl into his fist.
And you want to explain, want to take back everything you said and tell him the truth, but he’s already speaking up before you can.
“What the fuck is this?” he calls, and it’s so very angry. But he’s not talking to you.
He’s talking to Jesse.
Jesse merely rolls his shoulders back, attempting to settle back into his condescending façade. “Nothing that concerns you.”
“No?” He scoffs. It’s bitter and full of disdain. “Because anything you fucking say to her concerns me.”
Your heart skips.
Jesse, however, merely snorts to himself before glancing at you. “It’s a wonder you manage to get anything done on your own.”
Harry instantly strides closer, and you suddenly feel safer. Relieved to be near him again and desperate to feel him. To wrap yourself in his arms and never let go. To make things right.
But not once does he look in your direction. Instead keeping his focus on the man near the mat as he approaches. “Don’t fucking speak to her that way,” he nearly growls. “In fact, don’t speak to her at all.”
“Or what, hm?” The haughty cadence is back. “Do you really think you have any power outside of this ring?”
“I think I can knock your fucking teeth down your throat anywhere I goddamn please.”
“How incredibly barbaric.” Jesse’s brow cocks upwards. “Is he like this when he fucks, too?”
This question is directed at you, and no sooner has it left his mouth does Harry suddenly surge forward, grab him by the collar, and slam him back into the ring.
You gasp – or maybe you scream – before Harry removes one hand in order to send it flying straight into Jesse’s nose.
Blood is everywhere. Dripping from Jesse’s mouth, smeared across Harry’s knuckles, splattered along the concrete floor.
And you want to intervene. Want to do anything that might make you feel a little less useless, but Harry is delivering the second blow before you can decide.
“You fucking—” Punch. “—piece—” Punch. “—of shit.” Each comment is swimming in vile contempt, his expression livid and incensed.
You’ve never seen him this outraged. Didn’t even know a person could hold this much resentment, but it sends chills down your spine.
“Harry,” you murmur, taking a tentative step closer. “Harry, wait—”
“After everything you’ve fucking taken from me,” he sneers in Jesse’s face, “you wanna take her, too?”
Jesse’s only response is to suck in a large gasp for air that becomes gargled by the blood in his throat, and you feel sick.
“Harry,” you try again, grasping onto his other arm in an effort to tug him back. “Harry, wait, there’s another way—"
He brushes you off almost too easily. “And now—” Another hit, this time to Jesse’s stomach. “—you think she can save you? You think you can use her to get what you fucking want?”
He sends his busted knuckles straight into Jesse’s teeth, and your insides twist.
“Harry, stop,” you plead, yanking on him a bit harder. “I found another way, okay, please—”
“You fucking think…I’m gonna let you use her?” he seethes before pulling his arm back for the next hit. “You’re out of your goddamn mind—”
Without much thought, you suddenly rush around him, and place your hands on his chest. Wedging yourself between the two just before he can land the next strike to Jesse’s jaw.
It’s stupid and it’s impulsive and it’s rash, but it works. And it’s the only thing that seems to pull him back from that treacherous edge as his eyes find yours and his arm instantly drops.
It’s the first time he’s looked at you in days, and you want to cry. Because he’s staring at you like he’s never seen you before. Void of any emotion or understanding except for the realization that he doesn’t want to hurt you.
“Harry,” you whisper, and his name cracks from your throat. “Harry, please, I…I found another way. Okay? He…you don’t have to do this—”
“I know. I want to,” he replies, still rather hostile.
“But I don’t want you to,” you argue. “Okay, I think we can get out of this. There’s a way to get him out—”
“I don’t want a way. I want to fucking kill him.”
“Harry, you…” You suck in a quick breath and move closer, nearly gluing yourself to his tense frame. “He’s outsourcing the bets. He’s stealing money from the fights, okay, and we can get him out.”
He looks surprised for all of a minute before the look suddenly vanishes and he attempts to brush you away. “I don’t care. He deserves this.”
“Harry,” you nearly gasp, “if you do this, they’ll kill you. Okay, and I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you—”
His features soften, although he still begins to push past you. “You’ll be all right—”
“Stop, just listen—"
“Cherry,” he warns now, “get out of the way.”
“Harry, please, don’t do this. You can’t do this—"
“I don’t care. Move—”
“Harry—”
“Cherry, move—”
“I love you.”
He stops. Seems to freeze right where he stands, but you barrel on. Clutching onto his dark, familiar hoodie as though trying to grab at his heart.
“I love you,” you repeat in a strained whisper. “I love you, and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I lied, I…I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was helping, or…or doing what was best, but it wasn’t – I wasn’t. I wasn’t, and I’m sorry.”
He says nothing. Blinks. Doesn’t move.
“And I love you.” You suck in a shaky breath as the tears fight their way to your waterline. “I love you so much it makes my chest hurt, and I can’t lose you, and…and please. Please don’t do this.”
And you’ve never felt so vulnerable or afraid. And not because of his silence, but because you’ve never loved anybody the way you love him. And you’ll understand if he no longer feels the same or if he’s changed his mind. If he wants to punish you for your lie or for your attempt to say it now.
Instead…he moves to rest his hands over yours. Keeping them over his heart before dipping down…and kissing you.
And it fixes everything. Absolutely everything. Because it’s perfect and familiar and so incredibly Harry.
And you’ve missed him.
You feel an arm slowly snaking around your lower stomach, and you begin to smirk against his lips before you realize who the arm really belongs to.
It yanks you back, ripping you away from the man you love until you’re cemented against Jesse’s chest.
Something cold and sharp is settled against your throat, and you take in a quick gasp for air.
Harry attempts to remain calm as he’s forced to watch, but you can see the edges of his sanity coming loose. Jaw clenching, teeth gritting, brows furrowing. His shoulders are tense beneath his sweatshirt, his hands are balling into fists, and his head is cocking to the side like he’s debating whether or not to lunge.
Jesse merely laughs in your ear. “This is so fucking pathetic. And so goddamn cliché, sugarplum. Is this really what you want? Him?”
You squirm a bit in his hold, and Harry takes a brave step forward. But almost instantly, the blade of the knife begins to press further into the soft skin of your throat, immediately forcing Harry back with a dark scowl.
“Easy,” Jesse warns as you both go still. “Come on, now, I think you both know better than that.”
“Jess,” you pant, reaching for his wrist. “Jesse, please—”
“It’s so simple,” he continues, ignoring your attempt. “So fucking simple. Just win the match. Win the goddamn match and you get to go home."
“I don’t fucking care. Let her go,” Harry seethes. “This isn’t about her—”
“Except that it is.” Jesse’s smirk widens. “Of course it is. You wanted to leave to protect her, so you will stay to protect her. You made it about her, dear Harold. I’m only following your lead.”
Something shifts now in Harry’s expression, and it nearly ruins you. He looks…lost. So very lost and helpless. Like he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do without you.
Jesse presses his nose to the side of your cheek, and you feel the warm blood smear across your skin. “So, if you wanna take this away from me, then I have no problem returning the favor.”
The knife is pulled taut to the curve of your throat, and you hiss, making Harry’s face pale.
And when his eyes finally flitter to yours, you realize what you have to do.
“Harry,” you whisper, nodding once. Subtle enough to go unnoticed by the man behind you before you smile gently. “It’s okay.”
You’re not sure he truly understands, but you suppose it doesn’t matter. He will soon.
So, you slowly lift your arm until you can bend your elbow, only to send it flying straight back into Jesse’s stomach.
It’s not enough to really harm him. In fact, it’s hardly enough to even surprise him, but it does distract him just enough to loosen his grip on the knife. Giving you the room you need to spin around in his hold and deliver your fist to his face.
The shock of the blow seems to do more than the strike itself. But he goes stumbling back, nevertheless, and the moment his arm has dropped from your waist, Harry steps forward and rips the knife from his hand.
Once it’s in his possession, he grabs onto your wrist, and wrangles you behind him.
“Don’t ever…” he begins, stepping closer until the tip of the sharp blade can rest just beneath Jesse’s jaw, “…put your fucking hands on her…again.”
Jesse says nothing. He merely stares through his swollen eyelids and bloodstained lashes.
“You’re no longer Harry’s sponsor,” you add. “And you’re no longer a part of the league. Do whatever you have to do to get out. Or we’ll do it for you.”
Harry smirks, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so smug.
When Jesse doesn’t answer, the weapon is nudged further into his bruised skin, forcing him to suck in a sharp breath as he finally grits, “Fine.”
Satisfied with his response, Harry lowers the knife, and steps back just far enough to let Jesse slip by. And the two of you watch as he stumbles toward the door without a single glance before disappearing into the parking lot.
Leaving you both behind.
The moment he’s gone, Harry turns to you, wraps his arms around your waist, and hoists you into the air. Keeping you snug in his embrace while you squeal and fling your arms around his neck for stability.
“Oh, that’s my fucking girl,” he nearly groans, and you laugh. “M’so goddamn proud of you, baby. Never seen something so fucking hot.”
You dip down until you can nuzzle your nose with his. “Well, I learned from the best.”
“Yeah? Good.” His grin nearly splits his face. “Can I please take you home now?”
And you nod so quickly, you’re nearly dizzy.
“Yes, please.”
“Okay, easy. Easy, sweet girl, deep breath. I’ve got you, yeah? Know it hurts, but it’ll be over soon.”
With a sharp exhale, you motion your head up and down, allowing Harry to pull your hand closer in order to continue dabbing the alcohol swab over the torn skin of your knuckles.
His tiny bathroom falls quiet as you sit on the edge of the sink. Him between your legs, attention trained on your bruise. And while the sensation is rather uncomfortable, you don’t think you’ve ever felt so cared for. So…fulfilled and secure.
And you realize, this is how you were always meant to feel.
With him.
“It’s gonna sting for a bit, but I’m almost done,” he promises, eyes softening when he sees your pained wince. “You’re being so good for me, Cherry, I’m so proud of you.”
You pout and it makes him chuckle. “You made it look so easy.”
“S’cause it wasn’t my first time.” He reaches for the gauze. “And we already know how I feel about pain.”
With a smirk of your own, you jut your chin toward him. “Yeah? And how are you feeling now?”
“Now?” His expression is wicked as he now leans just close enough to ghost his lips over yours. “Now…I feel fucking insatiable.”
You waste no time kissing him. In succumbing to his games and his endless teasing. You kiss him, and you don’t care if that means he wins, because you’ve never needed anyone or anything more.
And he’s so entertained by your desperation. His own bandaged hand finding your cheek as you sigh against his tongue and settle into this moment of adoration.
When he pulls back, you’re winded.
He goes back to work dressing your knuckles, wrapping the white gauze around and around until your torn skin is thoroughly protected.
And you watch him as he does this. As he sweeps his thumb gently along the ridges of your hand before bringing it to his mouth in order to leave yet another kiss.
“There,” he murmurs, trailing his lips across the fibers. “All better.”
It’s the most beautiful and romantic thing you think anyone has ever done for you, and your heart lodges in your throat. “Harry?”
“Hm?”
“…do you hate me?”
Surprised, he instantly straightens up and leans back. “What?”
“Do you…do you hate me? Because of what I did? What I said?” You attempt to ward off the influx of impending tears, but you can already feel the first one slipping free. “Do you think I’m a horrible person?”
His expression immediately drops as he reaches up to grasp onto your face once more. Thumbs brushing quickly along your warm skin as you sniffle. “Cherry…I could never hate you. Ever.”
“But maybe you should,” you whisper. “I hurt you, and I lied to you, and…and I don’t deserve you—”
“Baby,” he breathes, surging forward to press his forehead to yours in an effort to silence you. “Don’t ever fucking say that again, do you hear me? I know exactly why you did it, and I could never be mad at you for that. I was only hurt because I didn’t want to lose you. But you were only trying to protect me. I know that.”
“I said I didn’t love you,” you nearly croak. “I said I loved him. After everything you’ve done for me—”
“You had to,” he interrupts, and his understanding only hurts more. “Cherry, you had to. It was the only way, and I know that. I knew it then, too. You’ve only ever tried to protect me, and I wasn’t letting you.”
You grab onto his wrists and vow to never let go.
“And it’s not fair that you were put in that position,” he continues. “It’s not fair that you were forced to make that call, and it’s not fair that I dragged you into this. You were expected to choose between somebody you’ve known your entire life and somebody you just met. That’s not fair, and I never should have made you—”
“It wasn’t a choice,” you hiccup. “It was never a choice. It was always you.”
Those pretty pink lips pull back into the softest grin you’ve ever seen. “You were trying to save me, sweet girl. I know that, and I will never, ever hate you. I love you.”
I love you. The three best words you could ever hear, and your first sob wracks from your chest as you fling your arms around his neck to kiss him.
He kisses you back, but it’s soft. And sweet. And meant to convey exactly how he truly feels.
And it works because this is all you’ve ever wanted. Just him, and this moment, and those three words.
“Easy,” he warns through a strained breath. “Baby, careful—”
“Please,” is all you pant. “Harry, please, I can’t…I can’t wait any longer, please.”
And he nearly coos with amusement as he nuzzles his nose under your jaw in order to paint more kisses along your throat. “Can’t wait, hm? But what if I want to make this special?”
“It is. Is special—”
“Cherry,” he chuckles, “it’s all right. M’not going anywhere. We don’t have to rush, all right? S’been a long day and I don’t expect anything—”
“But I do,” you huff. “I’m ready, I want to. You’ve made me wait long enough.”
He laughs a little louder now, leaning back in order to see you. “I’m just trying to take care of you, sweet girl. We didn’t wait this long to throw it away because of him. I want this to be good for you. I want you to be sure that this is really what you want.”
And you appreciate the sentiment more than you’ll ever be able to explain. But right now, there is only one true way you want to spend the rest of this horrid day.
So, you lift your leg and hook it around his hip, pulling him back between your thighs with a pleading look.
In turn, he smirks, fingers returning to your chin with a playful squeeze. “Thought I was the insatiable one.”
“We’ll take turns,” you exhale before surging forward to kiss him again. Capturing his lips between your own and savoring the feeling you never thought you’d feel again.
And you can see his resolve crumble. Can see the way his eyes fall shut, the way his chest rises and falls beneath his dark shirt, the way his hands grasp onto your waist to keep you close.
He’s hungry. Ravenous. Losing the fight before it even begins, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Because now – now – he can have you. He can give you exactly what you want, can be exactly who he wants to be for you.
“Where do you wanna be, baby?” he asks through teasing nips to your neck. “The bed? The couch? D’you wanna go back to your apartment? Might feel more comfortable for you—”
“No, I don’t care,” you interrupt anxiously. “I don’t care, I just want you.”
He grins against your throat. “My greedy girl,” he murmurs, and your stomach flips. “Let’s go to the bed, yeah? Wanna lay you out and see you.”
And you want nothing more than to let him.
Regretfully, he pulls his lips from your skin and steps away, and you feel like you might die without him. But he’s quick to remedy this by taking your hand in order to help you hop down from the sink. Leading you out of the bathroom and through his apartment toward the bedroom.
His apartment isn’t what you expected. Although, truth be told, you didn’t know what to expect. It’s a bit bigger than yours, but there’s something…empty about it. Hollow, almost. The furniture is scarce, the colors and décor are few and far between. It doesn’t even look like anybody lives here, something he pointed out the moment you entered.
“Hardly spend any time here,” he’d said as you glanced around. “S’just a place to sleep, really. It’s never really felt like a home…until you walked through the door.”
And it was wildly cheesy, and perhaps a bit lame, but it was everything.
His bedroom doesn’t seem to be any different as he leads you inside. The walls are a dark grey, and his bedding is a similarly dark shade. He’s got one chair and one dresser. It’s quite clean, all things considered. No clothes lying on the floor or towels slung over the closet door.
It’s so very…Harry.
“Sorry,” he mumbles as your eyes flicker about the room. “Know it’s not very romantic.”
But you merely grin as you shake your head and grasp onto his hand. “Are you kidding? It’s perfect.”
His brow cocks up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You drag him toward the mattress before plopping down rather contently. “It’s so you. And I love that.”
And he only smiles before chasing after you and wrangling you into his arms.
It’s a faster dance from there. His hands and lips are everywhere they can reach. Slipping up the backs of your legs, ghosting over the curve of your hips, pulling at the zipper on your dress.
You merely settle in his embrace and allow him to take whatever he’d like. To touch and kiss each lingering thought away until all you know is him.
He’s careful but practiced. Treating you with the same adoration and gentle precision as he always has. And you’re so very thankful to feel so safe in his arms. A kind of security you weren’t sure you’d ever find in a partner the way you have him.
With anyone else you’ve ever been with, sex has always been transactional. A means to an end. This thing that you do to get off and nothing more. And despite your submissive preferences, there have been times when you truly felt powerless to your partner. Simply…there. Until they decided they no longer needed you.
But Harry…
He looks at you like your body is sacred. Like he’s undeserving of being so close to you. Of getting to touch you, hold you, feel you. Completely in-tune to every noise you make and every flutter of your lashes. Constantly on guard for your enjoyment and consent so he never goes any further than you want him to.
But you know, undoubtedly, that no matter how far he goes…it’ll never be enough.
You want his everything. His all. Anything he’s willing to offer, and you imagine you feel about as grateful as he looks to be here with him like this. To witness this kind of tender reverence.
He settles onto his back and pulls you on top. Placing you in a straddle over his waist until he can gaze up at you. “You okay, Cherry?”
You nod quickly – breathlessly – before resting your hands on his chest to brace yourself. “Just excited.”
His smile is boyish and charming, showcasing that familiar dimple that makes your cheeks warm. “Good. Want you to be.” He rubs soft circles into your hip before his brows furrow. “Y’know what I just realized?”
“Hm?”
“I still don’t know your name.”
And despite it all…you laugh. “I’ll tell you on one condition.”
“Yeah? And what’s that?”
You smirk. “I still want to be your Cherry.”
He chuckles as he squeezes your sides and drags you closer. “Oh, baby,” he murmurs as you dip down to kiss him. “Always.”
With a soft smile, you trail your lips from his cheek to his ear, whispering the forbidden name almost timidly.
And to your surprise, he only grins wider. “That’s beautiful, sweet girl. S’perfect, too. Pretty name for a pretty girl.”
You feel the blood rush to your face as you bury your lips against his throat and gently tug at his skin. “Okay, all right.”
“I mean it,” he insists, palm slipping around the back of your neck to tug you back out. “Cherry, you’re beautiful. I don’t say it to say it. I look at you…and I feel like I can’t breathe.”
And maybe they are just words. Maybe they’re meant to make your insides twist and make your heart swoon. To be romantic and suave.
But you believe him. Because you can see in his eye just how much he means it. Can feel it in your stomach that he’s never been as honest as he is right now.
Further proving that everything in your life…has led you to him. Every decision, every regret, every mistake. It brought you right here, to this moment, in his arms.
You don’t waste any time on replies or longing looks. You kiss him, and you resume this frantic dance, and you beg him to make things better. To ease this ache in your stomach as well as your heart.
So, he does.
Nimble fingers pull at the zipper along your side, loosening your uniform until he can guide it up and over your head. Only stopping once to whisper, “S’this okay, baby? Can I see you?”
You nod almost impatiently. “Yes, yeah. Whatever you want, promise.”
“Hm. Careful what you wish for, sweet girl,” he hums warningly. “Or I might just take you up on that.”
The moment your frame is revealed to him, he nearly groans. Allowing his hands to smooth up and down your shivering silhouette as you anxiously wait for more.
However, instead of allowing him the time to indulge in your body, you begin to tug at his sweatshirt. Silently requesting he reveal himself to you, too.
He smirks. “All right, hold on.”
He barely has a chance to sit up before you’re reaching for his hem in a desperate attempt to remove it. Making him chuckle as he grabs onto his collar before swiftly pulling it over his head.
And you nearly sigh. Because he’s so ethereal to look at. Every ridge, and tattoo, and scar. The way he breathes, the way he flexes. You can’t help but reach for him, skimming your fingers down the dips and curves of his toned chest and stomach almost reverently as a breath catches in your throat.
And he lets you. Studying you closely while you study your hand. A moment of silence passing before he mumbles, “Baby?”
“Hm?”
He reaches up to tuck a bit of hair behind your ear. “M’gonna have to stretch you a bit before we start, okay? Don’t want to hurt you.”
“Okay,” you answer almost too quickly. “That’s fine. I’m not worried.”
He seems amused. “I know you’re not, but I am. You know I’d never want to hurt you. And I just want to make sure we go at a pace you’re comfortable with.”
There’s an odd sort of fluttering in your chest as you scoot closer and slip your fingers into the curls on his neck. Stroking his roots in an attempt to soothe him. “I’m okay with any pace as long as it’s you.”
“Promise?”
You nudge your nose against his. “Promise.”
Finally, he seems satisfied. “Okay, sweet girl. Then can you lay down for me?”
You’re on your back before he can even finish the question, attempting to intertwine your fingers with his and drag him along with you.
“Cherry,” he laughs again, and the sound is like music. An orchestra of joy and infatuation that you can feel all the way down in your toes. “Can’t be that greedy, can you?”
“I can,” you pant, hips bucking up as he reaches for the silk around your waist. “Just please…”
“Please,” he repeats thoughtfully, pulling his focus to the material he’s slipping down your legs. “You really are my sweet girl, hm?”
Another nod. “Mhm.”
“Guess I have made you wait, yeah?” He discards of the delicate panties before smoothing his palm up the inside of your thigh. “Made you sit and be good?”
“Harry…”
“And you have been,” he muses, ignoring your mewling. “Been so good for me. Think I need to show you how proud I am. And apologize for being so mean to you. For making you go so long without.”
He moves to settle between your parted legs, one hand beside your head to brace himself while the other travels down the expanse of your stomach. Calming the trembling skin and leaving goosebumps behind until he reaches what he’s looking for.
He looks at your face first. Examines your expression and the flutter of your lashes. Stilling just long enough to listen to you breathe. “It’s okay, Cher. I’ve got you.”
You run your fingers through his hair and smile. “I know.”
His thumb is the first thing that finds you. Ghosting gently over your clit and down in order to prepare you. Ease you into the sensation.
You take in a satisfied inhale that melts into a whimper and he grins.
Pushing through your folds, he slows when he finds your arousal. Glancing down to see it for himself. “So warm, baby. Missed this.”
“Missed you,” you nearly whine, and he seems pleased.
The tip of his digit pushes in just far enough to tease you but not enough to satiate you. Leaving a rather hollow feeling in your stomach the moment he pulls back out.
You just about slump into the mattress. “Harry…”
“M’just trying to be gentle,” he says. “And I wanna take my time. Wanna really feel you. Remember this moment.”
Your heart swells. “How oddly sentimental of you.”
He shrugs before pushing the finger back inside. “Maybe you just bring it out of me.”
Your back instantly arches from the bed when he reaches his knuckle. And the gratified look he wears seems to worsen this untamable ache.
“There you go,” he coos. “See? One’s not so bad.”
His pace is slow to begin. Torturous in a sense, but he knows that. He wants to work you up, make you squirm. Have your pleas falling from your tongue like water from the sky.
And of course it works, it always does. You weren’t sure what else you expected, but as he continues this steady rhythm, you feel your sanity slowly begin to come undone until you only have one choice.
“Harry…Harry, please, can’t…can’t—”
“What, sweet girl? Need more?”
Your head quickly motions up and down. “Please…”
“All right.” He pulls back before going again, this time with a stretch a bit more prominent. “Know you can handle two, yeah?”
And he’s right, you can, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t nearly ruin you to do so. Because while two is decidedly much better than one, it’s still not nearly enough. And more importantly, it’s not the one thing you really need.
You pull harder on his hair while you writhe beneath him. Eyelids growing heavy as the sound of his fingers driving into your pussy grows louder. “Harry, please—”
“Shh.” He dips down and trails his lips along your cheek. “Gotta let me do this, baby. Just a bit longer, yeah?”
“Can’t…can’t wait—”
“Yes, you can.” His tone is firm but kind. Encouraging. “Know you can. Let me make you feel good.”
He begins to go faster. Thrusting into your cunt until your pulse is racing at about the same speed.
And he’s beautiful. He’s so goddamn beautiful, it makes you dizzy. Hovered over you on the bed, muscles flexing with each roll of his arm. There’s a soft glow behind his head from the light of his window, illuminating his curls like a halo.
It’s rather fitting, you realize. After all, he is your guardian angel.
“Breathe,” he instructs, kissing down the curve of your throat before finding your chest. “Almost done, yeah? Doing so good for me, look so pretty taking my fingers. Know you’re gonna be so beautiful taking my cock, hm?”
Again, he dangles the image right in front of you, only to take it away before it can fully render. “Har—”
“Shh,” he says again, mouthing at the swell of your breast that’s being pushed up out of your bra. “Gonna give you another. Want you to be still for me, okay?”
With a rather disappointed huff, you oblige, watching as he scoots back just far enough to get a better visual.
Three fingers brings you to the gates of heaven. As does that look in his eye when he sees the way your pussy stretches around the larger digits.
You can quite literally see the groan leave his body as he stares at you, lips parting in mesmerized bliss.
“You okay?” he manages to ask through a strained exhale.
“Yes,” you pant. “Can take more, I promise.”
“More, hm?”
“Yes…yes, please…”
He only hums.
Seconds go by before you’re gasping for air. Nails scraping down his scalp in desperation as he works you open. He’s incredibly focused, proud of the work he’s doing, and of the way your body bends to his will.
“There we go,” he praises softly. “Just like that. So fucking wet, sweet girl. Know it must ache.”
“It does…it does, Harry, please—”
“Got an itch you can’t scratch, yeah? Need me to reach it for you. Need me to fix it.”
“Please…”
“Almost, baby, almost.”
You feel the fourth begin to push in and you suck in a sharp breath.
He stops. “It’s okay,” he murmurs soothingly. “Gonna take me like a good girl. Already doing so good, just a little more. Relax for me.”
You do your best to obey, allowing your limbs to fall limp beside you, despite the tightening of the coil in your stomach.
Even still, it works just enough to allow him more room. Slipping in the added digit until you see stars.
The pumping is loud and driven. Truly an exercise in restraint – for both of you – as the pace begins to quicken and the noises begin to increase.
Then, he brings his other hand into play, and brushes his thumb over your clit.
And you don’t mean to – you didn’t even realize you were so close – but you cum suddenly and with a rather lewd moan that makes his eyelids flutter.
“There,” he whispers, as though entranced. “There we go, good fucking girl.”
You can’t seem to get enough air in your lungs as you come down. And Harry chooses not to help as he finally removes both hands…and begins to pull you apart.
He exposes your clit to the colder air in order to dip down and ghost his mouth across the top. Releasing a warmer breath that sends chills straight down to your toes, making you squirm rather violently.
“Har…Har—” you gasp, fisting the blanket below. “Please, can’t…can’t—”
“Just wanna look at it,” he says simply. “S’so pretty—”
“Harry,” you whimper, writhing beneath his hold. “Harry, this is mean.”
“Mean, hm?” He smirks now and you want to die. “Well, I don’t wanna be mean, baby. Wanna be good for you, just like you are for me.”
You choose to take this as a sign to continue, sitting up just enough to reach for his belt and begin to tug it undone.
He laughs now, glancing down at your frantic fumbling with a knowing grin. “Cherry—”
“No,” you huff. “No, it’s my turn.”
To your surprise, he only hums. “Go ahead, then.”
You do, yanking the belt through each loop before tossing it aside and moving for his zipper. You don’t imagine you’ve ever worked so fast or so hard for something (specifically a cock) in your life.
The moment he’s able to wrangle his dark jeans down his legs, you’re dragging him back down. Ignoring his protests and his reminder that he still has one article of clothing left.
Instead, you work on ridding yourself of your own, unhooking your bra and tossing it into the same pile as his boxers.
And now, as you both settle into your nakedness together, every imperfection on display, you realize you’ve never been more content. Because baring your heart to him was far more vulnerable than baring your skin.
And because this is where you were always meant to be.
“Okay, baby, m’gonna start slow,” he repeats yet again, and you nod. “Just tell me if you want me to stop or slow down, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you nearly whine. “I will, I swear.”
“Good. And…shit, a condom, do you…do you have a preference—”
“Pill,” you pant. “I’m on the pill, just go.”
“Are you su—”
“Yes, please. I need to feel you, Harry, please…please.”
“Okay, all right.” He takes hold of your hips and positions you where he wants you before settling between your thighs. “Deep breath, okay? Just keep your eyes on me, I’ve got you.”
Another nod – quicker, more frenzied.
He takes hold of his cock and your eyes nearly roll back. It looks so beautiful in his hand. Just as stunning as you remember, and even though you never imagined you’d find one so appealing, your mouth seems to water.
Your leg hooks around his hip, subtly urging him closer, and he obliges. Giving himself a tug or two before gently trailing the tip down your aching cunt.
He moves up and down to collect a bit of your arousal before he finds your hole and slowly begins to push inside. Sinking in about half an inch before checking with you.
You nearly scream. “It’s okay. It’s okay, keep going.”
“Are you su—”
“Yes.”
His mouth curls up into a knowing grin as he continues. Allowing his cock to slip even further into your waiting pussy while your walls slowly stretch open to accommodate him.
And you’re hardly afforded the chance to enjoy this newer sensation before he suddenly dips down to kiss you. Perhaps an attempt at distraction, although it’s hardly needed. Because now you aren’t sure what to focus on, what feeling to indulge in. From his lips, to his cock, to the way your stomach nearly caves in on itself.
“Fucking shit, baby,” he groans against your tongue. “Shit, you’re so tight…feels so good—”
“I know,” you agree. “God, please don’t stop—”
“No. Never.” He sinks in a bit further and you dig your teeth into his bottom lip. “M’almost there, you still all right?”
“Yes…yeah, I’m perfect. Perfect, promise—”
“That’s my girl,” he nearly seethes before he suddenly drives forward, sheathing himself all the way.
You both still the moment he’s fully inside, his face now disappearing into your shoulder as though to brace himself.
And you wrap your arms around his shoulders in a desperate attempt not to let go. Allowing your body the time it needs to understand this new intrusion and find pleasure with it.
When it finally happens, the stars align.
“Okay,” you pant, gently scratching at his back to garner his attention. “Okay, go.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm. Need more, Har, please.”
He pulls his hips back and the whimper you release is almost feral. But it seems to do wonders for him, because his expression twists into something desperate, and you feel your chest implode.
He settles into a soft, slow pace. In and out, in and out, in synchronicity with your eager pants for more.
And there’s too much happening all at once. Too much to watch, too much to take pleasure in.
The curls that drip down his forehead, the way his body looks as it connects with yours, the feel of his mouth going down your chest.
He’s everywhere all at once and somehow, it’s still not enough.
“Taste so fucking good,” he mumbles, seemingly to himself. “Could taste you forever.”
He takes your tit into his mouth, tongue flicking at the pebbled skin before nipping at it gently.
You keen, arching from the bed until you nearly knock into him. “Har—”
He hums around your nipple, and you almost cry with frustration and pleasure.
Everything feels slow. Almost too slow but there’s something tender there. He’s not trying to fuck you, he’s trying to feel you. To mold your body to his and it’s rather effective. Because the way you crave him feels like heaven and hell all in the same second.
“Harry,” you whisper, practically deranged as you drag your hands down his chest. Nails tracing patterns down the tattoos across his abdomen. “Please…”
The noise he makes in response to your scratching is almost animalistic in nature, and you nearly flinch as you quickly lower your arms. Upset to have caused him any pain.
“No,” he groans, lifting up to nudge his nose under your jaw. “No, don’t stop. Keep going.”
“What?”
“Keep…shit—” His rhythm falters and you can almost feel the way his dick seems to twitch. “Keep going, s’okay. Want you to scratch me. Want you to hurt me, baby.”
And somehow, this reminder of his pain kink feels almost like a blessing. “Yeah?”
He nods faintly before attempting to resume his pace, and you happily take the lead.
Your fingers hesitantly return to his broad torso. Delicately tracing the muscles as they roll beneath your touch until you gingerly begin to press in. The sharp edge of your nails dancing across the expanse of his already torn skin.
In turn, he releases a strained noise that becomes lost beneath the grateful kisses to your collarbone. And you realize how much he truly enjoys it.
He gives you complete control of his body, of his pleasure. Because the harder you scratch at his scars, the more urgent his thrusts become. Until the sounds echoing around the room begin to echo between your ears. And the slapping of his hips into yours is inescapable.
“Feels so good, Har,” you nearly cry, lifting up just enough to kiss him quickly. “You’re so good to me. Always.”
“Shit.” His eyes about roll back before there’s a sharp snap of his cock into your eager cunt. “Always gonna take care of you. Promise—”
“I know,” you sigh. “I know, I love you.”
You say it now, and suddenly, everything changes.
It doesn’t matter if he’s heard you say it before or if he already knows because the look in his eye nearly guts you.
He’s so…happy. So incredibly happy and endlessly enchanted that he begins to grin. “You love me,” he repeats. Not a question.
You smile as well, and the sentiment seems to explode out of you. “I love you.”
And it’s perfect, this moment. This connection of two bodies and two souls into one. The way you stumbled through the dark until you found each other, and it makes sense. Everything makes sense now with him. Clarity in the truest form.
“I love you,” he echoes, and he means it. You can feel it in every thrust, every syllable, every brush of his lips against yours. “I fucking love you, Cherry—”
“Please,” you gasp, leg dropping to the bed while your arms follow suit. “Har, please—”
“Gonna cum for me again?” He begins to go faster, chasing after your orgasm. “Let me feel you around my cock, sweet girl, come on. Already feel so good—”
“Can’t…can’t—”
“Can’t what, hm? Can’t hold it?” It’s almost sadistic the way he speaks, but you know he’s merely enamored. “I know. I know, it’s okay. You can cum for me, don’t have to wait. Promise I won’t be mad.”
You aren’t sure what you’re about to do, all you know is that you never want this feeling to end. This moment, this security. You just want to touch him, and look at him, and taste him for the rest of your life.
He interrupts your silence as a request for something more, and he offers it in the form of his dominance.
He takes hold of your wrist and hoists it above your head, pinning it to the mattress before settling his weight atop your chest. Trapping you beneath him until you have no other choice but to indulge in everything he has to give.
And you do.
“Sweet little cunt is all mine, isn’t it?” he purrs, teeth nipping below your ear as his fingers intertwine with yours. Holding your hand as he keeps it caged to the bed. “Spent all this time just waiting for me, didn’t you?”
“Yes…yes, fuck, Harry—”
“You were so patient. So good.” He’s growing more determined – sloppy – and your head begins to spin. “God, but you just needed me, yeah? Needed me to make it better—”
“Better,” you repeat almost mindlessly.
“Needed me to erase him—”
“Please—”
“Leave my mark. My fucking mark—”
“Harry—”
“You were never his,” he grits, and you aren’t sure who he’s really trying to convince. “You were never fucking his, you were always mine. And he knew it—”
“Shit, I can’t…can’t—"
His other thumb moves for your clit and you feel tears fill your eyes. “Yes, you can. Know you can, baby, and you will. Always do so good for me, gonna take my cum, aren’t you—”
There’s a strain on your muscles from the way they’re being stretched above your head, but you realize there’s something satisfying about the subtle pull. And when it’s coupled with a firm pinch of the sensitive nerves between the rough pads of his fingers, you start to lose it.
“There – shit – there you go,” he inhales, glancing over your face before watching the way his cock slips in and out of your pussy. Dripping in your arousal and smearing across your thighs. “Take me, just like that. Feels so fucking good, sweet girl, keep going…keep—”
You cry out and writhe helplessly beneath him. Pulling your arms from out of his hold in order to sling them around his neck and cement yourself to his chest.
And you have no choice but to succumb to the pleasure before you feel him follow.
“Fuck—” He surges forward, burying himself in you completely, moans melting into your feverish skin as you cling to each other. “Shit…I love you. I really fucking love you, Cherry.”
You smile lazily before bringing his mouth to yours. “I love you, too.”
He kisses you. All through the moment and then some. Until the sun has disappeared and the moon has been hung between the stars.
And you know that you have never been happier than you are in this moment, right now.
Just you, and him, and a pussy full of cum.
“Darling, we've got some at table six, could you go check on ‘em?”
With a quick nod of your head, you readjust your apron, and grab the notepad Owen is sliding toward you before slipping from the kitchen.
You find the eager customers waiting just beside the counter and take their order with a charming grin and a promise to slip them some leftover pie.
The diner isn’t too busy tonight, and you’re grateful. Now that you’re on dessert duty, you spend a majority of your shifts working on new recipes and finalizing the specials for the coming week.
Truth be told, you rather enjoy this new task. It keeps your mind occupied and your thoughts from drifting.
And baking is your happy place. Your sense of calm amidst a sea of uncertainty, almost rivaling your own true source of serenity.
Harry.
Once you’ve returned to the kitchen, you sneak a glance at the clock. 12:06 A.M. He should be here soon. Probably tired. Perhaps a bit stressed. Hopefully no worse for wear than usual.
Fight nights always tend to leave you on edge. You know he’s more than capable of taking care of himself, but you can’t help but worry. It’s what you do best.
Still, you’re happy for him. Because while pies are your happy place, the boxing ring is his. He’s only ever wanted to fight – to make money, channel his anger into something good. And perhaps it’s not a sustainable lifestyle, but for right now, it’s what he wants to do.
And you respect his choice. You’ll respect any choice he makes, as long as he’s the one making it. Instead of it being made for him.
Besides, without Jesse there, you find that Harry tends to have a lot more fun. He leaves the fights with a busted lip but a bright smile, and it makes your heart swell until it feels as though there’s no more room in your chest.
Last you heard, Jesse left town. Harry refused to tell you what really went down at the club once the other members found out, but you decided that was probably for the best. No matter what fond memories you still have of your childhood friend, he’s not who he used to be. And you won’t ever be able to change that.
But for the first time in a long time…you’re okay with that.
The clock continues to tick the seconds away, and with each passing one, you grow a tad more anxious. Your guardian angel is late. At least by a few minutes, and you scurry about the diner as your thoughts race about a mile a moment.
And then, just as you’re readjusting the cake stands and tidying up the dessert display, you see it.
Your not-so-strange stranger is here.
He’s sitting in his favorite booth, fifth one down from the first row, directly next to the window.
He’s got his usual hoodie pulled over his head, obscuring any view of his face. His clothes are dark and seem to cover nearly every inch of his skin. His knuckles are wrapped in that familiar, white gauze, and are stained with streaks of red.
But he’s looking down. Staring at the menu on the table as though he doesn’t order the exact same thing every time.
And you grin wider than you have all day.
“Hi, Cherry,” he calls the moment his head lifts, allowing you a better look at his stunningly damaged face as you scurry closer. “Missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” you nearly giggle, slipping off your apron before sliding into the seat across from him. “How was it?”
“Easy,” he snorts, but there’s a sparkle in his eye. “And I have good news.”
“Oh?”
“M’off for the next few days. Thought you could come over…and not leave.”
You laugh as you reach across the table to take his hand in yours. “I like the sound of that.”
“Yeah? Good.” He glances down at your interlocked fingers almost fondly. “Hey, you know what I just realized?”
“What?”
Now, a mischievous expression begins to form. “I never introduced myself.”
And for some reason…you can’t help but laugh.
“So,” he begins, rather charmingly as he raises your hand in order to shake it formally, “hi.”
And you really fucking love him.
“I’m Harry Styles.”
I CAN'T BELIEVE WE'RE AT THE END!! This has been such a fun story, and SUCH a wild ride that I feel very lucky to have gotten to take with so many incredibly wonderful people!!
Thank you so much to everyone who's followed along and left the nicest comments or notes!! I cannot tell you what it means to me!!
Harry and Cherry will def be back for extras soon, but until then...I love you 🥹♥️ Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Previous Part:
~ Uppercut*
~ Full Knockout Masterlist
~ Main Masterlist
Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞
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