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clipartdinosaur · 2 months

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Griddlehark Fics

I have read an absolutely insane amount of Griddlehark fanfics in the past few months so I figured I could make a like...list of all of my favorites that I bookmarked. I'm not sure if anyone will use this but if anything it will be for my own self-indulgence LOL. Just a heads up, this list WILL contain spoilers up to Nona the Ninth, so proceed with your own discretion. Anyway here we go!

(♥︎ = favorite!)

Short (<15k):

"By the Sword" by JeanLuciferGohard (2.6k)

The Reverend Daughter of the Ninth, Necrosaint, Ascended, the greatest bone adept in an Age, does one push-up, and collapses. Harrow does not beg for her cavalier. Harrow rakes her hair back and snarls, “Nav, I am going to unzip your cranial sutures. One by one. And zip them up again sideways.”

"Your Necro Questions Answered" by Magichorse (8.8k)

Syndicated columnist "Nav the Cav" offers a sympathetic ear to cavaliers across the galaxy and dispenses practical, no-nonsense, real talk advice on how to properly manage and care for your necromancer.

"A Lesson in Bones" by Magichorse (3.8k)

One of the laboratory trials at Canaan House compels Harrowhark to swap bodies with her cavalier. What will Gideon do with the power of the most talented bone adept in generations at her disposal? Nothing good, probably.

"Visions of Gideon" by tothewillofthepeople (13k)

Oh my god they were roommates...

"true love's kiss, or something equally nauseating" by corpsesoldier (4.6k)

She was where she needed to be. She was going to pull her necro out of this godforsaken tomb, end the game of musical bodies they were playing, and then everything would be all right. Harrow would be alive. And Gideon was going to give her shit for approximately the next myriad for not just taking what she’d offered and saving them a whole lot of trouble.

"The Big Warm Dark" by decalexas (haelstorm) (2.7k)

Gideon Nav knows how to swing a longsword, brandish a rapier, bridge the gap between life and death, punch the dead in the face, and maybe overthrow an Empire along the way. What she doesn't know how to do is reach for the girl who made all of this possible.

"carrion comfort, despair (not feast on thee)" by NotAFicWriter (5k)

Some time after Alecto wakes, Harrow and Gideon finally have a moment to speak to one another. Hearts are bared. Teeth are bared. Intentions are bared. It all comes at great personal cost (emotional honesty).

"never exhale all the way" by pigflight (1.2k)

Harrowhark paints Gideon's face.

"such an almighty sound" by CountingNothings (10k)♥︎

“I need you to marry me,” Harrow says, a propos of absolutely nothing that Gideon can see. And, uh, okay, this is not what childhood best frenemies say to each other upon discovering that both of their graduate programs have weird residence requirements. “What,” Gideon asks, “the fuck?”

"A Handsomely Dangerous Thing" by zoicite (1.5k)

Had Harrow ever looked at Gideon and felt pride before? Surely not. It sat like a tumor in her chest, a cancerous lump that had grown where it did not belong.

"How it didn't happen" by Nary (1.5k)

"How did you lose it?" Coronabeth asked, more softly than her sister's shrill voice. The group assembled at Canaan House barely knew her, and yet here they were, asking the most irritatingly personal questions, and acting as if they were being kind and thoughtful by prying into her secrets. "I dropped my pen into a vat of acid and reached in to grab it without thinking," Harrow said dryly. Coronabeth recoiled, screwing up her pretty nose. Ianthe looked unsure whether to believe her or not. Their meatslab of cavalier just stared blankly. "The Daughter of the Ninth House was blessed in this manner from her birth, as a symbol of her strength and power over the mysteries of necromancy," Ortus interjected. Harrow glared at him. "Oh," Coronabeth said, an expression of disgusting sympathy on her flawless face. "But then you would never have known who your soulmate was!" Harrow's glare intensified. "My soulmate is bones."

"Halcyon Nights" by Morike91 (10k)

It was hard to tell what was worse: feeling the full warmth of those unguarded honey eyes fall on Harrow, or watching them narrow in recognition and contempt, their warmth now hotter with something else. “What can I get you?” It has been at least four years since Harrow last heard the voice of Gideon Nav, but it was still as familiar as her right hand.

"I completely fucking hate you" by ClaraZorEl (7.5k)

In the coming weeks, Harrowhark learns an unfortunate great deal about Gideon Nav. The kind of porn she likes, the number of bread rolls she can fit into her mouth at once, that she always leans too heavily on her left leg when she fights but can do fifty-seven push-ups in a row without stopping, that her biceps rates 11/10 on the scale of good biceps, that her laugh rumbles like an army of skeletons, and most importantly, that she can’t fucking stand her. Gideon Nav is so grating that Harrow has no doubt she will be her undoing. OR Harrowhark Nonagesimus has been invited to Canaan University's ball. But to successfully represent her house, she needs a cavalier, and unfortunately, her only option is her least favourite barista from her least favourite coffee shop.

"A Thousand Teeth, Yours Among Them" by pipistrelle (7k)

"In the end, she poisoned Ortus; so it was Harrow Nova who walked out to the shuttle a half-step behind the Daughter of the Ninth, the chain of Samael Novenary wound about her offhand wrist, the black blade of the Ninth at her side."

"The Only Prayer We Know" by pipistrelle (12k) [Part 2 of "A Thousand Teeth, Yours Among Them"]

It's like a bad joke: two cavaliers (alive) and two necromancers (one dead) walk into a rebel faction of humanity, looking for a new life -- in every sense of the phrase. What they find is each other, and (in some cases) themselves.

"The Flames of Hell Are Warm" by silverapples (7k)

In which Harrow is a repressed evangelical Christian and Gideon performs burlesque in a lesbian nightclub. Feat. nipple pasties, chewing gum, and a steaming mug of gay coffee (wake up and smell it, Harrow).

"Necro Business" by rnanqo (1.6k) ♥︎

“Gideon,” you said carefully, “I will need to examine your mouth. Various structures, primarily the jaw, but also the lingual muscles—the tongue—” You stopped there. Your cheeks were going red, probably with indignity. “Yeah,” I said, a bit too loudly, “yeah, sure. Do it.”

"Holy Cross, Alaska" by softieghost (10k) ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Harrow meets Gideon. They go through it together.

"my love will be your armor" by TheKnightsWhoSayBook (2.3k)

"The princess has a right to bestow her favor on whoever she wishes to win a match," Gideon tells her. "Are you going to?" "Why would I? I don't want to marry him," Harrow answers bitterly. "Do you want me to win?" Princess Harrow will be engaged to the winner of the tournament, and her only champion is her useless bodyguard Sir Gideon Nav, who isn't going to save her. Unless...?

"The Meaning Of The Word" by pipistrelle (8.4k)

Harrow, along with a good percentage of Canaan University's necromancy students, has the flu. Gideon has a lot of feelings that she is in no way equipped to handle. It's a tough week.

"(i shine only with the light you gave me)" by sashawire (1.7k) ♥︎

God prods, gently, “Even just starting with their physical description, and we can go from there.” “Imagine,” you say, from somewhere outside your body, “the worst shade of orange you’ve ever seen in your life.” * Harrowhark receives her saintly title.

"i will learn to love the shears" by corpsesoldier (4.7k)

The avulsion trial left Harrow's hair in a sorry state and Gideon offers up her expertise with a blade. Or, Gideon gives Harrow a haircut.

"The Titty Texts: A Work of a Stupendous Titty Nature" by EleniaTrexer (3k)

Gideon accidentally sends Harrow boobs. And then just keeps on sending them.

"can we start over?" by breeeliss (10k)

Gideon needs a tutor. Harrow needs someone to get her out of college gym class. All in all, a pretty straightforward arrangement to make with your ex.

"Dark Mode Enabled" by senseoftheday (12k)

Tech Company AU in which a certain Sales bro with no filter decides to ruin Harrow's life (and feature roadmap) by initiating the cross-functional project from hell. At least, Gideon has the decency to work remotely, and Harrow's new office crush makes some pretty great coffee.

"deconsecrated graves" by emotionsandphenomena (4k)

Gideon and Harrow got out of the cult they were raised in. Okay, what's next?

"settle up in heaven" by liesmyth (3k) ♥︎

“Isn’t this arrogance, Harrow?” Kiriona says. “Think you could fix what God couldn’t?”

"Quoth the Maiden" by Sarsaparilla (10.9k)

The bold outlaws Nova Hawk and Gideon meet for the first time on a narrow log-bridge. But is it really their first meeting? Or: what if Robin Hood and Little John were both lesbians?

"twice in a blue moon" by sinshine (8.7k) ♥︎

Gideon snapped out of her depressing reverie and blinked at her. "That's a really good idea." "Obviously," said Harrow, and it was only a little bit condescending. "Step one, sneak out of the party. Step two, acquire the necessary items at a store. Step three–" Harrow gestured vaguely at the deer in Gideon's hands– "And step four, profit." [G&H rush to fix a smashed snow globe that Dulcinea made so that Cam doesn't kill them before the clock strikes midnight at their NYE party. The fact that Gideon is back in her hometown after a long time away and she and Harrow have unresolved romantic tension is secondary and definitely won't be a problem.]

"It Came From Planet Slut" by LockedTombMemes (8k)

Well. Evidently going undercover to an Idan society fling in order to deliver a message to a high-profile BoE agent was a tits-out kind of look.

"Apostate's Yuletide" by sinshine (12.6k)♥︎

Gideon raised one eyebrow comically high. She smiled easily, erasing any hint of the anxiety that Harrow might have sensed. "What's with all the questions today?" Harrow huffed indignantly and fidgeted with the blanket draped across her lap, worrying the frayed hem with her fingers. "I thought your ego would appreciate the interest." "Yeah, but it's weird coming from you. I'm used to you monologuing, not playing twenty questions." "Perhaps it's a Christmas miracle," suggested Harrow, with an expression so absolutely devoid of joy that Gideon couldn't help but laugh. [Harrow and Gideon burn down a church on Xmas.]

"when it's over" by Adertily (2.5k)

Harrowhark had sworn to herself to live to see the girl in the locked tomb awaken. Alecto has risen. Now God is dead, along with everyone who had ever been dear to her - and Gideon has returned as a distorted creature. The war is over. Harrow wishes she could be too. Or: A character study based on Harrow's suicidal ideation and Gideon's determination to never run anywhere unless she absolutely has to.

"Supernova Bloom!" by sinshine (13k)

"It's just for a week, and then you never have to see me again," said Gideon. "I don't have time to find anyone else." And, "Please." Slowly, Harrow took her hand off the door and cautiously turned around. Gideon watched a dozen unspoken questions flicker across her face. She voiced none of them, but eventually settled on an expression of grim resignation. "I suppose I could suffer you for a week." [Gideon needs help getting her new flower shop ready for the grand opening. Harrow needs cash.]

"I still need your teeth around my organs" by sinshine (7.8k)

Although she was a beloved Daughter and a talented necromancer, Gideon's greatest vice was that she dearly loved to fuck around and find out. Knowing this, perhaps it shouldn't have been as shocking when she lifted one of Nova's hands, flipped it over, and kissed her palm. [4 times Gideon kisses Harrow, 1 time Harrow kisses Gideon]

"cuckoo, cuckoo" by sashawire (1.2k)

What Wake gives it is not a name. To do so would be a moronic, unnecessary cruelty. But she does deign to give it the microscopic dignity of a title, a goal, a purpose. Bomb. Eighteen years later, in the rubble of a once-sacred home, Harrowhark Nonagesimus reaches up and touches Gideon Nav’s grit-covered, blood-rimed face, splits a laugh like the world is ending, and calls her “flower.” * Six times God's unwanted daughter was nicknamed, and once she wasn't.

"my teeth will only cut your lips, my dear" by sashawire (<1k) ♥︎

Gideon chomps into her tongue as hard as she can convince herself, stifling a very dignified squawk. Her eyes water, Emperor’s left tit that fucking hurts, but—it works. Blood weeps from the bite marks, creeping down the back of her throat, up into her nasal cavity, staining her teeth. Okay. She has blood in her mouth. Blood that, somehow, needs to get into Harrow’s mouth. * Step #6: Consume the flesh.

"fifteen percent concentrated power of will" by surreptitiously (9k)

Teaching someone to do a push-up is a love language, when that person is very annoying.

"GHAZAL WHERE I'M BEGGING YOU TO TOUCH ME" by igneousbitch (12k)

You had your body and I had mine, and it was a miracle. Your hands against my face were a miracle. The rest of your meat attached to your hands was a prayer answered and a promise broken, but we were flush and gasping and alive, and Harrow—I really thought you might’ve kissed me then. But I felt it happen. The way your breath suddenly stilled, and your body locked up beneath mine, remembering. How with splintering gentleness, you pushed me away. “I’m so sorry,” was the second thing you said upon waking. The first thing had been my name. Stranded in a safehouse on an Edenite moon, Gideon and Harrow try to put themselves back together.

"catch you on the flip side, sugar lips" by corpsesoldier (4.9k)

Maybe if Harrow's brain runs enough scenarios, she'll find a way to keep what she's lost.

"hand to heart, I swear" by corpsesoldier (5k)

Gideon has a broken heart, and there's only one necromancer who can fix it.

Medium (15-30k)

"If you're doing it right you'll break their ribs" by almostnectarine (22.4k)

"How do you know Nonagesimus has gone somewhere dangerous?" asked Isaac. "Have you wired some kind of alert system?" "It's, uh. It's on the schedule," said Gideon. "I just... forgot. Because of the bread." Nobody was convinced by this, least of all Gideon. "It's a Ninth House thing," Gideon went on, backing away with increasing desperation. This was a slightly more plausible explanation, if only because nobody wanted to look too closely at what fell under the awful skeletal-ribbed and rotting umbrella of Ninth House things. "Gotta go—!" And she was out the door, gone. But it wasn't a Ninth House thing, except inasmuch as it was happening to the only two representatives of the noble and decrepit Ninth House on this quite literally godforsaken rock. Gideon knew Harrow had gone somewhere dangerous—knew that Harrow was back in the lab where they had only just completed a horrible trial—because she could see it, clear as day: an awful overlay on her vision of that terrible dangerous room and a pair of terrible dangerous hands drawing some kind of ward next to the plinth. The hands were definitely Harrow's. This was definitely a problem.

"If Home Is Where the Heart Is (Then We're All Just Fucked)" by JeanLuciferGohard (17k) ♥︎

When Gideon Nav gets a call that her ex-girlfriend, who never bothered to change her designated emergency contact, is in the hospital, she goes against her better judgement and responds. Everything after that just gets more complicated.

"blue gray green lavender" by smolranger (29k) ♥︎

Laser Radial sailor Gideon Nav just wants pass her classes, win a few regattas, and keep her head down. FJ sailor Harrowhark Nonagesimus has grand plans to qualify for the Olympics, preserve her parent's legacy, and save her home town. Despite the ties binding them together, the two have kept their college lives carefully separate for two years. But when Harrow's helm, Ortus, suffers a concussion mid-way through the fall season, their carefully separated lives collide. Harrow needs someone capable of taking Ortus' place for the remainder of the season or her Olympic dreams — and Canaan College's entire sail team — are in peril. And Gideon is her only option.

"Daughters of Hungry Ghosts" by zoicite (24k)

Harrow and Gideon and times they have (and also have not) shared a bed over the years.

"Disney World, Florida" by softieghost (24.6k) [Part 2 of "Holy Cross, Alaska"]

After the events of Alaska, Harrow thanks Gideon the only way she knows how: devotion. -- Chapter 3: The journey concludes. More confessions.

"we've got a good thing goin' " by sinshine (14.6k) ♥︎

“Not to sound ungrateful, but being here makes me wish that you had left me for dead,” said Harrow. Gideon had been staring hard at the face of the fountain’s statue. She was pretty sure that it was carved in the likeness of Naberius himself, but she didn’t want to say it out loud and make it true. She shook her head and turned to Harrow. “Leaving me to live out eternity in your bony sock puppet of a body? Hard pass.” Palamedes and Camilla shared a look. It was the mutual understanding of two people who had been trapped in close quarters with the bickering of Gideon Nav and Harrowhark Nonagesimus for far too long. [Team 69 hide out in Babs's vacation home. Because it's not like he's using it anyway.]

"Cake by the Ocean" by zoicite (15k)♥︎

Okay, so the thing was, Gideon had always been shit at plans. She knew that. Everyone knew that, but this--she really didn’t think it would be this hard! Gideon’s voice was like the least memorable thing about her. Bargaining her voice for a well-shaped set of human legs--that really should have worked in her favor.

"careful fear and (un)dead devotion" by sinshine (23k)

[Gideon and Harrow wake up back in their own bodies but both of them are missing large parts of their memory. Camilla tries not to kill everyone.]

"who ya gonna call?" by igneousbitch (24k)

“Fret not, honeybun.” Gideon shook her red hair out of her eyes, belligerent. “I’m not totally sold on your whole skepticism thing.” “Well,” Harrow said, ignoring the nickname. She turned to the rest of the room, clearing her throat politely before addressing the empty air. “Ghosts, if you’re real, give us a sign. Make a noise. Move something. Send a shiver down our backs. Whisper softly into Nav’s left ear—” “I seriously fucking hate you.” - (Casual sex and paranormal investigation. Not necessarily in that order.) (or: the Buzzfeed Unsolved AU in which Gideon is ready to fight a ghost, and Harrow just wants to be haunted.)

Long(>30k):

"Beneath a Blue and Foreign Sky" by zoicite (35k)

Harrow has a decision to make.

"A Heart Full Of Sutures" by Rohad (40k)

All Gideon wanted was to get outside and ride her motorcycle. No part of that plan had included eight weeks in Canaan Medical Center with a broken Pelvis and the meanest little doctor this side of the eastern seabord.

"Midnight at the Mithraeum" by zoicite (66k) ♥︎

It'd been two years since Gideon Nav gathered her wine key and her gaming license and escaped The Locked Tomb, a speakeasy-style cocktail bar managed by the hateful Harrowhark Nonagesimus. Now, dealing tables at The Mithraeum Hotel & Casino, things were really looking up. So when Gideon scored a date with the most beautiful showgirl in the Gilded Halls of Ida, the last thing she expected was to wake up married to her old nemesis and former coworker. The story starts the night of Gideon's date and alternates between the events leading up to the wedding and the weeks that follow as Gideon tries to navigate life married to someone who claims to want nothing more than to forget she exists.

"Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea" by pipistrelle (90k)

Being the journal of Reverend Daughter Harrowhark Nonagesimus, chronicling the journey of the Emperor's warship Cenotaph on its hunt to slay an immortal Resurrection Beast. Or: the Moby Dick crossover AU that nobody asked for.

"The Darkest Night, The Brightest Light" by eternaleponine (50k)

Harrowhark has known for a long time that her home's financial situation is dire, and not getting better. She has plans to fix it all, but can't implement them until she turns eighteen in a few months. When her parents announce that the best (perhaps only) way to save Drearburh is to marry off its heir, Harrow realizes the timeline has changed and she needs to take action now to save her home... and herself. Desperate times call for desperate measures, after all. Enter Gideon Nav. Detested foe, and Harrow's only hope.

"putting your fist through a thick sheet of glass (i know you don't want to)" by oretsev (46k)

Harrowhark Nonagesimus and Gideon Nav have always been at each other’s throats, and the animosity has only intensified since the death of Harrow’s parents. But when a car accident leaves Gideon without any memories of her past, Harrow sees a chance at the clean slate she’s wanted for years. Becoming involved in Gideon’s recovery assuages some of the guilt, but as she and Gideon become closer and increasingly involved in each other's lives, Harrow worries that some of her secrets may be more than she can atone for.

Ongoing:

"semi-charmed kinda life" by strangedelight (182k+) ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Gideon asked questions. Harrow surprised her with answers. They reached an agreement; they decided to be smart, to be patient. Gideon made a promise, Harrow gave her one in return. Wait and see. OR the year is 1994, and Gideon and Harrow leave their small town for life in the city. OR team 69 roommates au only this time it's the 90s

"Intern the Sixth" by apocalypticTaco (33k+)

ADDRESSING THE HEIR TO THE NINTH HOUSE, OR PRESUMED EQUIVALENT: PALAMEDES SEXTUS, HEIR TO THE SIXTH HOUSE, PRESENTS HIS COMPLIMENTS TO THE NINTH AND REQUESTS A FORMAL ARRANGEMENT WHEREIN HIS MASTER WARDEN AND CAVALIER APPRENTICESHIP UNDER THE NINTH FOR FOUR YEARS IN EXCHANGE FOR THE SIXTH’S SERVICES. *Details to be discussed. Please turn to back page. Timeframe variable. Services and agreements variable upon the Ninth's request. An internship of this caliber is highly unprecedented and likely unheard of, but any information valuable to the Ninth and into the Tomb will remain undisclosed upon request; Primary experience and study is required as the Master Warden has already decided upon such being his final thesis prior to his end studies. No takebacks, no denials. Pleased to meet you. Palamedes Sextus, Heir to the Sixth and Master Warden and Camilla the Sixth, Cavalier Primary and Warden's Hand of the Library

TO THE MASTER WARDEN: FORMALLY REJECTED.

"What's Eating Gideon Nav?" by labyrinthineRetribution (40k+)

After a miserable fifteen years at Blessed Saint Anastasia's School for Girls, Gideon's luck finally changes.

"We Have Always Lived in the Apartment" by labyrinthineRetribution (171k+)

John looks up from his Jack and Coke in drunken curiosity. "What's with the face, Harrowhark?" he asks, genuinely concerned. "Contrary to popular belief," Gideon butts in, "her face just fuckin' looks like that, bitch." She tends to use "bitch" as liberally as commas when off her ass. "You're piss drunk," you shoot back. "And you, my good bitch, are just as contemptible as the day you clawed your way up from Hell." - It is Harrowhark Nonagesimus' birthday, and it only gets worse from there.

PWP (basically):

"I'll hold in these hands all that remains" by corvidlesbian (6.5k) ♥︎

“Do you want me to try?” Gideon said. “What?” “You got all hot and bothered without me trying. Do you want me to try?” Their newfound habit of cuddling gets interesting.

"sting of a wasp" by brightbolt, imperfectlyctor (42k) ♥︎

"You’re a virgin,” Gideon said, testing it out. "Huh." Harrow didn’t like the sound of that huh. She knew Gideon’s noises, and that was a thoughtful, sinister huh. That was the same huh she’d made before putting canned tuna in Crux’s work boots. Her eyes narrowed. “What.” Gideon cocked her head to the side. “Is there a reason you’re waiting?” There was no judgement in the question— only genuine curiosity. Perhaps it was this that made Harrow more inclined to answer. “I don’t have the time to look for someone new,” She shrugged. “And my available pool is… somewhat limited.” “Well,” Gideon said, with just a hint of conspiracy in those glittering golden eyes. “If you ever want to change that, you have my number.” What? What? Harrow blinked. “What?” Or: the five times Gideon and Harrow successfully bone, and the one time they don't.

"Suckle, Honey" by zoicite (7.9k)

“You crave my juice,” Gideon accused. “I do not crave your juice.” “Fuck, you do though. You went off to explore that study alone, without your cavalier, using a key that I nearly gave my life for, and then you snorted some powder that made you crave my juice! Harrow. I never would have let you sniff powder from a ten thousand year old jar.” This was untrue--Gideon probably wouldn’t have noticed Harrow breathing in a puff of jar powder until it was too late--but it sounded like something Camilla Hect might say, so Gideon went with it anyway. Camilla definitely would have stopped Palamedes from accidentally sniffing old as fuck Eighth House jarred juice addiction powder.

"Five Times We Hatefucked and One Time We Didn't" by rnanqo (8k)

“Fuck you,” you said. “Fuck me yourself, you coward.” You ran a hand through my hair, fisted it, and pulled my head up. From here I had a spectacular view of your weird blown-out seething expression, like I was the worst thing you’d ever seen. Also a view up your blood-crusted nostrils. Choice. “Maybe I will, Griddle,” you said. “Maybe I will stop fucking you over and start fucking you." Gideon and Harrow realize, abruptly, that their hatefucking is no longer hatefucking.

"a call to motion" by groundedsaucer (coasterchild) (10k) ♥︎

Harrow and Gideon watch a porno.

"put her canine teeth in the side of my neck" by stranded_star (8.8k)

Harrowhark Nonagesimus is getting a PhD and a divorce. Against her better judgment, she goes out to the bar to celebrate and meets an incorrigible, absolutely ripped salt-and-paprika butch who takes her home and gives it to her good. To her horror, it's the best night of her life, and she sneaks home with her tail between her legs. Harrow has more important things to worry about - like raising her daughter and building the next stages of her career. But when her daughter's favorite teacher, someone named Griddle, turns about to be the Gideon she met at the bar, she's forced to contend with allowing herself (and her daughter) to find the happy ending she never thought they'd have. Featuring MILF!Harrow, Teacher!Gideon, and a very amused Camilla Hect.

"The Wound That Swallows" by seelieunseelie (7.8k)

Harrow can make out an uncomfortable amount of detail about Gideon’s body beneath. Powerful, strong as ever, yet somehow vulnerable for its supplication below Harrow’s. “Are we gonna get this over with?” Gideon says in a voice softly scratchy. She blushes then when Harrow sits on the edge of the bed. “It will hurt,” Harrow says. “Yeah,” Gideon says. “I think I can handle it.”

#holy shit this is way longer than i thought it would be #uhm i literally gave myself a headache i sat here for like 3 hours doing this #that being said if you have any fic recs lmk LOL #griddlehark #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth #the locked tomb #tlt #tlt fic #tlt fanfiction #griddlehark fanfic #rec #long post

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smuttyaf · 3 months

Text

Jasper Gentlemen’s Club

𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭

wc: 9.3k | part two of the business

“Treat yourself to something nice.”

Smile shines genuinely at the stack of blue bills falling into your grip. The heart of your customer pounds against your ear from the generous tip being gifted as you swiftly lean in pressing a kiss against his stubble cheek.

“I’ll surprise you,” You tease. His grip growing tighter against your hip at the gesture. “But that will just be our little secret.”

Following your movements he heads with you out of the dim decorative room. You depart from his side once leaving the elevator with faint ‘goodbye’ and his lingering touch trailing away from your waist. White train flows down your sides as you venture to the back of the establishment.

Heels click against the chestnut floorboard, the sound of lockers closing and gentle laughter fill your ears.

“Speaking of the devil,” Grace grins. Fishnets and lace peek under the usual feather robe. Her ginger hair sits in voluminous curls while her eyes are painted in black shadow.

Jasper Gentlemen’s Club, your place of employment for three years now. It’s a private upscale strip club to say in short, however it was the popular type of establishment catered for specific people; the elites and socialites of society, ranging from celebrities to politicians.

Already being high maintenance from the clientele that it specifically caters for, there were codes set in place to appease them. For example, always having proper upkeep of your appearance. Nails, toes, hair, lashes; everything had to be perfect. You were meant to look like a doll for your customers, suppose to be their escape from reality so you had to play the part perfectly. The second, would be no photography or video recording. It’s a no brainer but it was hounded into your mind, the only type of film the customers will ever be on is the security cameras. The situation being so serious everyone in the building had to sign non-disclosure agreements. And the last and final major rule, always being dressed in the renowned long tulle robe. Each dancer had this garment in every colour and pattern you can imagine, fluffy soft material making all your coworkers look like fairies dancing under the inky light.

Sometimes you couldn’t believe that this was your job. Working at this elegant spot and always looking stunning with your weekly manicures, pilates classes, and lash appointments. It was all that consumed your life aside from work. Even though you never thought you would find yourself in this position you couldn’t help but be happy about it. You struggled a lot during your teenage years, getting kicked out of your home at a such a young age you had to turn into an adult quickly. So you accept this lifestyle of greedy men and lustful hands, you much prefer it over the life you had before.

“You look like a sexy dominatrix,” You say glancing over her attire for the night.

Peeling open your purse, you let your tip money fall amongst the pile built up from your shift.

“You know me, you really know me!” Grace giggles with hand lying on her heart. You laugh at her expression while sitting at your vanity next to hers. “So… Do you remember the club owner I’ve been telling you about?” She ask, one arm place on the back of her chair as she faces you. You hum at her words nodding your head slowly.

She was boasting about this man that has been her new favourite of the month. Ranting about how he tips her generously and was the most handsome out of all her regulars. You’ve never took much notice of her roaster though, too indulged with your own you couldn’t really care about what her clients look like.

“He’s here and brought a friend… I may or may not have put in good words about you that he wants to meet,” Grace remarks with plucked eyebrows wiggling. It results with you shaking your head in disagreement.

“No thank you, I would like to go home to Cleo,” You sigh giving her an annoyed look. The desire to kick off these heels and curl against his fur freckle coat was all you wanted to do at the moment.

“Oh come on! Just one more before you leave!”

You twist your head at her words again. The clock was ten minutes away from your shift ending and you couldn’t wait for those numbers to dial in. Biting your lip you look at her.

“At least talk to him, I’m sure he’ll tip you for that… you know, because you’re just the sweetest girl in this joint.” Grace mocks Jasper’s southern voice. You roll your eyes at the reminder of him drunkly calling you one of his most prized employees during one the work anniversary parties.

“Fine, but you owe me.” Huffing with fingers tapping annoyingly at the vanity.

“Of course baby doll.”

You both touch up your makeup before going to the floor once more. It was Saturday night which meant it was busy, there was men litter by the bar while many sit amongst the lounge chairs, eyes all set on your coworkers performing their own little show for them before paying for the real thing. Her black train leads you towards the elevator, security smiling as you two step into the machine.

“Three please.” Grace smiles. The guard swiftly presses the number that brings you to the floor reserved for the most confidential people.

This makes you confused. If her client is just a club owner he couldn’t possibly be on this status? That can only mean the guest he brought with him has to be the one filling the role. If you could do a little dance in the space you would. Happy in your head thanking Grace for making you tag along but also causing you to wonder who it could be.

The elevator halts as you reach the floor. Both of you stepping out of the machine with robe swishing against your skin. White fluffy material tugs along the carpet as your heels echo in the hallway, eyes meeting the number of the door 323. The golden knob turns, allowing you both to step into the dim room.

Plum curtains pressed in baroque prints drape amongst the wall with stockard candles laminating the room, it gives sight on the two men standing each with glass of dark bourbon held in their hands.

Grace’s annoying rant about her regular being remarkably handsome is something you totally understand now, both look as if they could easily get sign and put on a runaway at any moment. One man holds a golden hue to his skin, black shiny hair slick under the lights, while the other has fair skin and luscious curls.

They stand in black suits fitting seamlessly against their bodies. The brown eyes of one man holds hues of caramel looking towards Grace while the other has beautiful emerald orbs that makes your breath catch in your throat.

She makes her way to the bronze man, feathers of her robe flutter under the lights. “Angelo, Y/N. Y/N, Angelo.” She introduce. You roll your eyes at her playfulness.

“Nice to meet you Y/N,” Deep Italian voice fills your ears as you smile curtly before giving the brunette next to him your attention.

Eyes watch the contour of his cheeks sink from his jaw tensing. His hair was short with loose ringlets weaving through, nose broad and standing high amongst the features of his chiseled face. He was enchanting, especially with the way he’s towering over you in this dim light, your cheeks begin to swell with heat from this foreign feeling brewing in.

Yes, you had plenty of handsome clients but never once did it make your heart sing a different tune. Your canine tooth pierces the corner of your mouth. The focus he has on you was more then just admiring ones appearance, it was as if he was devouring you.

The only thought passing through your head is hoping he can’t see your blushing cheeks as you play along to his daring gaze and let your alluring persona kick in.

“And who must you be?” You question, lashes look up at the man who still overshadows you in these tall heels.

“I’m shock you don’t know my name love,” Deep voice matching the same tone as his friend. It causes waves of arousal to flow through you.

“Don’t mind her, she’s doesn’t involve herself in small talk here,” Grace interjects, her hand sliding on Angelo’s suited shoulder while stepping into his body.

“Oh? Just my kind of woman then.” The brunette smirks. Those words make your ears tingle and grow red.

Jesus Christ get it together! You think to yourself. This is your new client, not some cute guy at the club, reel in your feelings and do your job.

“Told you to trust me Harry… now have fun you two,” Grace sings, hand slipping and locking with Angelo as she tugs him out.

The sound of the door closing is met with the slow hum of The Weeknd that fills the atmosphere, your heart is pounding in your ears with smile shining on your lips. Timid palms glazed over with sweat run over the white train of your robe.

This was so unlike yourself to be shy around men, especially with your profession after these few years, but now it was as if you can’t even control your nerves. You want to jump his bones and study every inch of him.

“Harry?” You say, body leaning into him and immediately smelling his expensive cologne, Baccarat Rouge. Your favourite mens cologne. Yeah, this was going to be difficult.

“Harry Styles,” He clarifies, eyes drinking you in as you move closer.

Your hand leaves your robe and feels over his collar to roam down his chest to feel over the buttons there. Applying pressure you gently shove him back a few steps before he’s against the familiar sofa, his knees bend with back falling softly against the cushions, your body now towering over his seated position.

The way he’s staring at you made the blood running through your veins thump with urgency to regulate your heart. A closed off part of you is unravelling itself just from looking at this man.

“Let me help you relax, Mr. Styles.” Pushing his legs apart with your thigh, your hips begin to sway to the music in the air. Nails going to the ribbon and playing with the bow.

Teasingly letting the smooth material slide between your fingertips, you move to the soft voice of the artist through the space, head lolling back seductively as you begin to unravel the string, your white embellished lingerie set reveals itself when you let the garment slowly cascade down your arms to rest in the hollow of your elbows.

Intricate fabric displays your busty breasts smooth with light sparkles dazzling under the lights, the floral lace design sits tight against your hips as your thighs rub against each other from each swing. Besides your waist moving so confidently with each stride, you can’t get over the way you feel so timorous.

Harry gaze is practically looking through you, observing every alluring movement that you do. The gentle press of your hands run up his thighs, your hips twisting side by side as you make your way between his legs, nails dragging into the thick fabric of his suit while doe eyes look up at him with playful smirk on your glossy lips.

His chest inhales deeply, knuckles turning white as he strains his hands by his side. The look in your gaze makes him want to groan hungrily, especially due to the position you’re lingering in. Nails trail into his thighs dreadfully to the slow symphonies in the background. He bites down on his bottom lip, body shifting under your eyes as you begin to rise up, swaying your waist back to your original position.

You continue to be enticing, hands running up your body as you turn around let your robe venture further down your arms to rest by your wrists, plump backside set in the air as you continue provoking him.

These movements were nothing new, especially with the way you allow yourself to fall deeper into his body and begin to dance in his lap, hair falling across your face you when rub yourself slowly against his obvious erection. Although, performing this sequence over hundreds of times your heart was beating erratically in your chest with mind racing with millions of thoughts. Thoughts you never had before ever since you’ve started working here, this new found feeling as if discovering Pandora’s Box.

You try to ignore the glint in his eyes, the way they hungrily look over every inch of your body, staring as if knowing what’s brewing in your mind.

Harry’s hand peels away from the velvet seat going to your moving hips, pulling you deeper against his embrace with head lying in the crook your neck, breath warm against your ear as you continue your teasing.

“No touching… you know this,” You scold. But despite the taunt you don’t move his hands, instead you slide your fingers on his knees increasing your ruthless movements.

You hear the groan that erupts from him lowly, nails curling into your skin as you push further into him. Turning your head slightly you nearly brush your lips together, it leads you to stutter at the close encounter. The mistake in your movements so distinct that you know he felt it, and if the lights weren’t such a dim glow he would see the way your eyes flare up at the near moment of kissing him.

“But you like it? Don’t you?” Harry purrs in your ear, heart fluttering at the rasp in his voice.

Rather than burrowing deeper into his touch you draw away from his reciprocating moves, his hands falling to his sides as he smirks up at you, expression shining with amusement.

Smile toying on your lips you straddle his thigh, hands running up his arms to curl around his shoulders. Everything about him was driving you crazy; the colour of his eyes, the cologne drawing you in, the material of his suit that feels smooth under your touch. You want him on top of you in every way possible.

As if catching a glimpse into your mind his hands find themselves back on your hips, compelling you to halt your previous movements of swivelling circles to drag roughly down his thigh. Your clit pressing tightly between the material of your panties to his rough motions that it makes you moan surprisingly.

Immediately biting down on your lip you can’t help but lean forward towards his face, his hands still moving you along his body, inching you closer and closer towards him. Nose brush against each other in the rush exchange just as lips nearly touch. You quietly whimper at the feeling of his nails digging into your hips. His mouth parting slightly as if trying to breathe in the sound you release.

You want so badly to lean in and discover the way he tastes. Honestly, you would do anything to have him cocooned around you in this moment, but unfortunately those thoughts don’t overshadow the reality of why you’re both in this room right now.

Skimming your tongue over your bottom lip, your teeth bite deeply into the flesh continuing to let him control your movements, his eyes still staring at you as he watches you restrain yourself from showing pleasure.

“How much you charge for the night?”

The words hang in the air causing your face to draw away from his, mouth parting in surprise as your expression resembles disappointment. You should really laugh at yourself. Did you think he was different than the rest? That the possessive look he has on you meant something more? You barely even know the man and your heart jumps for joy just at the appearance. You’re so naive, so stupid to really think he would see you differently.

“I —I don’t do that.” You mumble, pulling further away from him as you divert your gaze.

The tension that was once a teasing attraction between the both of you now is strained, the hum of the song concluding in the background sounds in the atmosphere while Harry’s grip relaxes realizing your change of emotion.

“Oh? I just thought…”

“You thought wrong.”

Heels balance yourself back on your feet. Arms trailing down the expanse of his as you faintly smile at him, your hands gather the sleeves of your robe around your wrist and drape it back over your shoulders, fingers lacing the ribbon together as the speaker occupying the room begins to play another song.

“It was nice meeting you sir.” You hush, faint smile tugging amongst your lips even though your face reads as if someone stomped on your dreams.

“Hold on now, let me apologize. I didn’t mean to offend you in anyway.” Harry confesses, his hands that were once on your skin reach out to draw you into his touch, however you step back.

It didn’t matter how he was going to form his words to express his regret about the invasive question. Whether he tried to say it in the nicest way or simplest terms, you know how he sees you. Just like your other clients; their little play thing that they want to unwrap to see more skin under the fabric.

It’s why you care little about the words you hear regularly. It’s expected of you even if it wasn’t something you offer. Yet, even when hearing it so many times, it still hurt that you were always perceived that way.

“None taken, have a good night.” You conclude the conversation.

Swiftly turning around you ignore the irritated expression on his face from your words, as you exit the room you try not to think of Harry and the blooming feeling of his presence captivating you.

“You shouldn’t have such high expectations.”

Sparkling wine dazzles under the chandelier lights when Grace brings the glass to her lips. She rolls her eyes faintly as she drinks back the sweet liquid, all you can do is turn the noodles in your pasta out of boredom.

“You know that’s not it.” You sigh, fingers fiddling with the fork and slouching your head on your hand.

“Oh come on!” It’s her turn to exhale tirelessly with annoyed smile on her lips. “I say you let him have what he wants, see what you can get out of him.”

Of course she would say that because she provides that type service but, you on the other hand didn’t. You never look at Grace differently because of it but she would always comment on just letting certain clients pay for sex, little jabs about doing these favours especially since it charges more. Yes, it would be easy to receive such superficial things out of those gestures but you desire more than that, which she knew tremendously.

“You know that’s not my thing.” Letting your fork scrape against the red sauce in your plate.

“Yes that’s what you say but you’re so infatuated with him, just give it a chance you never know what you can get from Mr. Mafia himself?”

“Mr. What?”

Eyes nearly bulge out of your face as if you were a cartoon character. The metal instrument in your hand drops from your grasp with your head raising off your hold in complete shock. Harry was in the mafia? Now you’re just finding out about this?!

“Oops? I thought I told you,” Grace reveals as if it’s so normal to forget.

“Are you serious?” You remark, eyes stuck on the way she shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly.

“Yes very serious, now relax. Some of our clients don’t have the best professions either.” She points out raising her eyebrows, and to that you nod in agreement.

You breathe in deeply, hands reaching out to grab your drink and take generous sips from discovering this new found information. This beautiful man with sweet colour eyes and soft curls was part of something dangerous. You never thought about what he could possibly do for work but that was definitely not one of them.

“But yes, the man you’re so in love with is in fact part of the mafia.”

“How do you know this?”

“If you spend enough time around drunk Jasper you’ll find out anything babe.”

Laughing faintly you agree to that, he was always the most honest when intoxicated.

“He was telling me about Angelo as a new client, how he’s some club owner laundering money for someone related to Luciano, some mob boss? I don’t know, never heard of that guy, but! When I met Angelo the first time at work… and well after work too, he was always having someone call him under Styles, one time I caught him talking to him on the phone, something about money so I just put two and two together.”

You bite down on your lip, eyes falling away from her hazel ones and to your unattended bolognese. Money laundering? Hopefully that’s the worse he’s ever done, but the inkling feeling roaming in the back of your mind tells you it’s not. Why should you even care though? This false hope that he’ll actually want you is slim, so why even try to care about what he does.

“I’m telling you girl, with the amount of money he probably brings in you should give it some thought.” Grace sends you another look as she continues eating.

Rolling your eyes again you bring the wine glass back to your lips. This conversation was steering its usual direction and frankly you were over it, you need to shove your heart back in your chest and forget these ridiculous ideas.

“Well if this isn’t a coincidence.”

Both of your sights catch on the same men you saw last night, especially on the specific man who is the topic of the conversation. Harry is now standing right in front of you still looking remarkably handsome as ever. This time he was dressed in a navy blue suit that brought out a gentle tone in his eyes. If you weren’t in this restaurant you would probably take up Grace’s words and get on your knees in this moment.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel the heat rush to your cheeks, and unlike the gentlemen’s club the lights inside this restaurant are brightly lit around the room, only highlighting the flush to your skin. Diverting your gaze, you continue to tip the alcohol into your mouth as cheery laughter beams from Grace when she looks between Angelo and you.

“It’s good to know we all have taste,” She humours, while you decide to swallow back the sweet fluid and place your drink back in its previous place.

Your sight darts from your drink to the napkin with extra cutlery to avoid the unwanted attention burning on your face. You know it’s Harry practically boring holes into you, so heavy that you don’t even want to look up and see him. You just willow in Grace’s conversation doing everything to ignore contact.

That’s until weight presses on the back of your chair, the smell of him fills your nose as he practically buries his head into the side of your neck. You’re completely taken back at the gesture, head turning slightly to make distance.

“Are you going to hold onto my mistake forever?” Harry ask, voice low and assertive that you feel your cheeks grow even brighter.

Pulling away from his embrace you scan his face as he straightens his back peering down at you. He studies your appearance in reciprocation to your detecting gaze, as if wanting to know every dip and curve that roams the expanse.

“No.”

“Are you always this cold then?”

“Maybe.”

Finally breaking the stare down you turn towards Grace who smiles sheepishly Angelo way before looking towards you. Sight flickering between Harry retreating next to his friend.

“See you soon.” Grace shines watching the two step away and head to their table.

As soon as they’re out of sight you clench your teeth, fury completely combing through you at the sudden intrusion of the night.

“Ease up on him.” She laughs. It makes you sigh dramatically, reaching over and finishing your glass of wine.

“I want a shot,” You declare. It makes Grace erupt in even more laughter only making you join along. This night was full of surprises.

“For once would you take my advice?”

Monday evening is slow; music transitioning between easygoing temp to dreadful paste. You book a couple private rooms in the beginning of your shift, flirt with some men on the floor to find some entertainment throughout the night, till you’re now in the back room listening to Clarissa and Lucy rant about their evening.

“I told Simon to let Jasper know I’m not taking him anymore and he persists on me keeping him!” Clarissa groans in annoyance hand hitting the leather sofa with frustration. Her energy radiates annoyance.

“Simon probably didn’t even ask, he’s just saying that… you know how he is,” Lucy responds with an eye roll only making you laugh at the exchange.

“I heard that!” Simon strides into the room with clipboard in hand and sharing knowing glances between each girl.

“Lucy you have private room eighty-six, Y/N you have confidential in three-hundred and twenty-three, and Clarissa you’re on the floor in five! No one should be in the back room on slow nights, you ladies all know this.” The statement only causes the group to exchange displeased expressions.

Clarissa and Lucy stand from the couch and make their way towards their own respective vanities while you get out of your seat and move towards the club manager.

“Confidential?” You question, following him as he begins to walk out the room.

“Yes, same gentleman as your last shift so don’t keep him waiting, quickly now,” His voice rush as he takes your wrist softly in his hand and drags you to the elevator, he sends tight limp smile towards the security guard before nodding his head and stepping away.

Same gentleman as last time. Harry wants to see you again? Even yesterday after the attitude you put up? The thoughts erupt in your mind with each of ding of the elevator. Different emotions course through as you make steps towards the familiar door.

You know you shouldn’t get your hopes up. He’s just like all of your regulars who simply want to see you, another of your clients. Nothing he can say or do will make you change your mind.

Fingers curl around the door knob, you relax your shoulders and let an alluring smile spread on your strawberry colour lips. The bubbling anxiety rumbles in your stomach as you retrieve the door open and move deeper into the room.

He sat on the diamond encrusted sofa, white button up with few undone to reveal ink roaming amongst his collar bones. His back is against the seat with arms laid amongst the sculpted frame, one hand free while the other held a glass of dark liquor. Even though he was sluggishly sitting along the chair, the way his hair was in messy curls and gaze falling to every step you make towards him, you shiver in excitement.

“Mr. Styles.” You smirk, concealing the feelings that spark in you.

Harry’s eyes venture down the expanse of your appearance, lingering extremely long on the way your hips sway, to them eventually staring even longer at your lips while you look down on him. His tongue escapes his mouth to run over his flesh, the hand occupying his drink brings it to his lips.

You let your eyes reciprocate his actions, staring longingly at this disheveled appearance; you admire how charming he looks relax with his ruffled curls and roaming eyes. You want to reach out and brush your hand across his skin but instead you let them slide down your waist comfortably.

“You look good in red.” Harry comments locking sight and smirking at you. His hands twirl the ice cubes in his empty glass that echoes in the space.

Smiling faintly at the compliment, you bow your head at the acknowledgment. “Thank you sir.”

Harry draws his other hand off the frame, fingers reaching into his breast pocket feeling over the contents before pulling out two blue bills. The warmth of his palm melts against your skin as it slips through the space in your robe and slides it into the band of your panties.

“Fill up my glass.”

He’s pushing it into your hand, voice so demanding it makes you confuse at the change of tone. You welcome the cool feel of it before turning around and going to the serving bar located in the room.

With your movements unscrewing the bottle to pour the contents, you hear ruffling from behind. Your heart beats so intensely it begins to give you chest pains. Circling back on your heels and making your way towards Harry, you see another few bills between his fingers as you hold his drink in front of him.

“Sit down.”

You oblige taking the seat next to him, mind completely confused on the change of his behaviour. You know your attitude yesterday may have been uncalled for but this was a different type of treatment. His presence being so cold yet inviting, you can’t tell if you’re scared by him or not.

The hand resting along the couch occupied with papers between his fingers run along the strap of your bra, he tucks the bills there while his gaze goes back to admiring you.

“What are you doing?” You ask, welcoming the his palm going to your breast to feel up your neck and grip your jaw with dominance.

“Do you forgive me?”

Threaded brows press together completely dropping your suggestive demeanour, eyes going to his suited pants until his grip tightens and directs your attention back to his.

“Is that what this is?” You continue, gaze running over the way his jaw flexes. “This money for my forgiveness. I’ve heard worse things in my field of work sir but, I’m very appreciative of the gesture.”

Your hand trails away from your thigh and drags along his knee, body leaning into this scent as you completely fall into your thoughts of this handsome man before you.

“So you don’t forgive me.” Harry responds coolly, the pads of his fingers sink deeper into your skin.

“I don’t care.” You state. Clenching down on your teeth while he releases his hold on your jaw. He rolls his eyes at your words, bringing the glass to his lips.

“You’re so frustrating.”

The comment causes your expression to grow with annoyance.

“Do you want me to dance or not?” Attitude clear in your tone as the palm of your hand continues to glide down the expanse of his thighs.

“No. I just want you to sit there.”

“Why?”

“You’ve been running away from me. So, I’m paying you not to.”

Swallowing hesitantly the previous motions you draw on his skin pause. Sight tearing away from him and falling to your polish nails. Well, aren’t you stuck. Sitting against these velvet seats with erratic heart and sweaty palms. The light beat of the song playing through the space between you both only intensifies the atmosphere even more. The ice smashing against his glass every few moments as Harry brings the drink to his lips.

“What do you want?” You say after a few minutes, fingers fiddling together when you look up at him.

“Isn’t it obvious already?” His voice still lace with frustration as he turns his head.

“You.”

Cheeks burn bright with mouth parting, the emotions he makes you feel… he was also feeling them as well. You distract yourself urgently flickering your eyes between him, trying to collect your words wisely.

“You don’t even know me.” The sentence not causing his gaze to waver. He’s still looking at you with this stone glare.

“So… tell me about yourself.” Harry suppresses the irritation in his voice as he rises his brow.

“Are you serious?” Completely surprised at the change of events.

“Very, now do tell.” Drink in hand gesturing for you to begin.

Suddenly that’s how you spend the rest of your night, introducing yourself to Harry. It range from telling him how you begin working at Jasper’s to how you grew up, and when your mind would dwindle he would ask you his own questions.

“How do you take your coffee?”

“Two creams one sugar.”

“Favourite food?”

“I love Thai.”

And without the disturbance of Simon ushering you to another room after your extended stay with Harry, you grow comfortable. Relaxing in his embrace and answering anything that came to his mind.

This connection that was clouding your judgment is too good to be true, from the introduction of your meeting to the the way your head is nestle in the crook of his neck, you thrive in the affection. Not listening to your overthinking thoughts that stir you in the wrong direction.

Instead, you let him know everything he wants; you tell him your favourite colour and how you like your steak cooked, to even confiding to him about certain clients you weren’t exactly keen of. The fact that you’ve only known the man for three days and was telling him your whole life story was beyond what you could imagine at the moment, he makes you relax and feel acknowledged. It was nice to feel this way after three years.

Since that night Harry began to make his appearance throughout the week. The same room, for the same time, in the exact same position as last. With each meeting he never let you dance or even suggest it, instead he let you talk whether it was anything on your mind or his, that’s how you spent your evenings.

His presence was relief during your hectic week, depending on your availability between clients you spend as much time as possible in his touch and finding serenity in the way his voice soothes you.

It was now Sunday and you were off, deciding on staying in tonight and catching up on Real Housewives. You sat in your loft with Cleo tuck on your lap, fingers digging into the bag of popcorn while the other reaches towards your ringing phone.

“Hello!” You sing, eyes caught on the dinner scene happening before you.

“Not in today?” The voice on the other line making your body shiver with excitement.

“No sorry, I don’t work Sundays… I should’ve told you.” You confess, guilt brews of him going to the club and not finding you there.

“No worries, what are you doing now?”

Eyebrows rise up on your forehead with deep breath releasing, you flick your eyes around immediately taking your hand out of the popcorn bag to grab the remote and lower the volume, body straightening up as you sink your teeth into your lip.

“Miss me already?” Fingers falling to your plump flesh as smirk pulls on the skin. Harry’s laugh sounds through the speaker, the happy cheer making your heart leap.

“Yes. Yes I do, how can I not?” Lashes flutter with smile beaming shyly.

Maybe this was all too good to be true. Maybe this was just a fleeting moment that Harry is having; booking you six nights out of the week, paying you to refill his glass and converse with him. Maybe he was just going through phases, maybe he just thought of you as another one of his toys. But this attention was one you couldn’t pass up; the way he admires at you, the feel of his hands gracing your body for sheer moments, the reassurance of his words when speaking your thoughts. After years of petty affection and surface base material, this for once felt different. It felt genuine even if you’ve only known him within such short time.

“Are you home?” Are his next words to break the silence.

“Yes,” You answer, fingers trailing from your lips to run into your hair nervously.

“Can I come over?” Heart practically melting in your chest at the suggestion.

“Yes.” With blooming hues of pink roaming amongst your cheekbones.

Eager emotions flood your body as you voice your address to him before ending the call. Your hand drops the remote and gently moves Cleo off your lap as you escape towards your room.

What the hell did you get yourself into and what the hell are you even suppose to wear? Your outfit currently being an oversized t-shirt and gym shorts will certainly not do the job as you venture into your closet; skimming over hoodies and dresses. You end on grabbing your two piece yoga set hoping it will suffice compared to how you look throughout the week.

Sitting in front of your vanity you immediately comb through your hair and brush through your lashes. Nerves coursing through your body at Harry coming over. The unusual excitement of getting worked up for seeing someone revels in your mind, you skim over your features intricately to look for something off when you know that there wasn’t anything. There is this need to look your absolute best for him, even you know you already do.

Huffing slightly at the thoughts running through your mind you get up and make your way out of the room and head into the kitchen, fingers immediately lighting candles and then running quickly to the couch to begin folding the blanket you once laid on. If you were being recoded right now you would laugh at how you run across the spacious condo to make sure everything looks in place.

With ideas of the night ahead bombarding your mind the familiar sound of the buzzer quakes in the room making your heart drop. You step away from the couch and move towards the door, hand pressing the button to let him in.

This feeling was as if you were a teenager all over again. These dreamy aspect of emotions being as if you saw your high school crush passing in the hallway. It’s been three years without mental or physical affection, this new found treatment from someone was making you drunk off happiness.

With these nerves overcoming you, the urgency for alcohol to sooth your system lingers in your mind making you go over to your fridge and take out the chilling wine to soon tug your body over to your glass rack and pull two off, you’re setting them on the table when there’s knocking at the door.

Taking a deep breath you count to three, making your way over and unlocking it. Grin toying on your lips with Harry revealing himself adorn in his black suit.

Chest quakes with each pump of your heart as his lips mirror your happiness. Widening the door you let him step into your home, body turning to shut the door before letting your smile turn nervous.

“I know you drink whisky but I only have wine for tonight.” You stammer, body making your way over to the island and gesturing to the bottle of Prosecco.

Harry looks over the bottle, his eye soon falling on yours with smirk appearing. “I’ll have a glass.”

Control motions peel open the new bottle and fill each cup. He takes his drink in hand before humming at the taste.

“Enjoy reality tv?” The question only makes the warmth in your cheek spread further as you look at the television screen displaying women throwing drinks and overturning the table.

“Oh… um… yes,” You stumble over your words, avoiding Harry’s eyes as he chuckles next to you.

“Flustered are we?” He points out, body bumping into you teasingly.

“This is what you came over to do then, just make me a blabbering mess in my own home.” You pout, sight moving away from the granite counter as you lift the wine glass to your lips and look at him.

Amuse expression shines over his face while he shrugs his shoulders in response. “It does make things more interesting.”

“Interesting?” You recite in his own tone.

His hand that rest along the counter passes through the space between you both to let his palm venture down your waist.

“Yes… interesting how displeased with me you were at first yet having this look of want in your eyes.” Your gaze blares, confusion written all over your face while you relax deeper into his touch.

“I —I feel it too.” He’s hesitant before clearing his throat, lashes flutter against the hollows of his eyes as he collects himself. “This pull to be next to you… it’s unexplainable… ever since the first night.”

The words Harry formulates as if he’s just letting his heart expel everything he’s been building up over the week. It makes the one in your chest thunder with admiration.

“And I shouldn’t have said those things… it’s so stupid but my mind went blank and I just…” His brows push together trying to collect his thoughts properly. “The night I saw you at the restaurant it made me realize I really fuck up. I don’t want to do that with you ever again. I want you to trust me, I want you to love me, I want you to—“

But you immediately cut him off letting your emotions spring in and press your lips against his. Wine stain flesh burns on each other as gracious pecks transform into tongues joining together. The hand that trail down your hips run over your backside.

The heat that he expels when he steps deeper as if shielding you with protection has you moaning against him, head tilting slightly to invite the arousal blooming.

As his palm moves further the surprise of his grip tightening around your ass makes you jump, the hand that was wrapped around your glass bumping against the underside of it causing it to tip over.

“Fuck!” The crashing sound of it smacking against the counter makes you part away from him. “I’m so sorry.” You breathe out. Leaving his embrace to go to the paper towel dispenser and beginning to clean the mess. Cheeks burning even brighter from knocking over your wine.

“Relax baby,” Harry coos, hands falling on your nervous ones as you clean up the puddle.

Laughing shyly you shake your head embarrassed by your behaviour.

“You make me anxious,” The confession falling out of your mouth effortlessly as you collect the drench paper.

His palms grip your fingers tightly causing your gaze to catch with his. Instead of an irritated expression he shares one of amusement and adoration.

“Likewise.”

And ever since that night the connection between you both grows stronger; Harry visits during your shifts to meeting you right afterwards. Coming home to bouquet of roses and designer bags, sending you black trucks to take you out to dinner or meeting with you at Bottega Veneta to piece together an outfit for him.

Two weeks of knowing Harry and he was already dazzling you with the most extravagant gifts but still remaining respectful and never letting you dance when he visit the club. You’re absolutely head over heels. He’s always kind and gentle with you, never pushing your boundaries and soothing you with his words. This affection was a breath of fresh air and you’re undoubtedly happy about it.

Although the regard to respect you was admirable, you were beginning to crave more than cherish kisses and subtle touches. A plan brewed in your mine once your eyes peeled open this morning and you decided to put it in motion tonight. So, as you sit in front of your vanity of the club you fix the straps of your embroidered charcoal bra and look over yourself in the mirror.

“Who might you be expecting?” Clarissa calls from across the room. Your glossy lips don’t hesitate to smile as you look towards her.

“I told you about Harry, right?” You remark, letting your fingers run under the band of the bra to fit more comfortable against your skin.

“Oh! That’s who has you in a good mood lately,” Lucy joins in, jet black hair framing her face in layers with smirk written all over her features.

“If you say so,” You sing, turning around in your chair to look over yourself again.

“Don’t think we haven’t been seeing your post lately,” Clarissa marvels while drumming her fingers against the table.

“So generous with his gift-giving,” Lucy continues in her playful tone, only making you giggle.

The heavy steps of Simon thunder against the oak flooring as he makes his way into the room. Head set intact with clip board in hand, he begins to give everyone knowing looks assuring everyone of their duties tonight.

“And Y/N, you have your regular in confidential.” He finishes at the end of his list before turning to usher the ladies onto the floor from the back room.

“Have fun babe, be safe.” Clarissa whispers when passing you with gentle hug.

You smile at her while nodding with assurance. Looking over yourself, you tie your robe together, lips running over one another before stepping out of your chair and making your way towards the familiar room.

Even with spending so many days with Harry, these emotions that quake whenever he’s mention or to soon bare his presence always resonate these deep feelings; this need to feel his touch rougher on your skin or feel him in the sweet places that you think of him most. You knew this was beyond the earlier arrangements of your first initial meeting, this meant more.

Cigarette smoke roams the air as you make your way towards him. He’s in his usual spot, tailor suit gracing his appearance beautifully as you smile at him. Manicure nails drag against the material while his hands feel over your covered hips.

“Hi angel.” Harry says while feeling over your body.

“Baby,” You purr, moving deeper into his touch. “I have a question for you.”

His features raise in question but doesn’t stop his wondering hands from pulling the ribbon of your robe apart and revealing your body to him.

He hums attentively, looking over your face as he continues to roam over your skin. You’re so enthralled by his touch that you nearly forget your plan.

“Tell me how I make you feel.” Statement leaving your mouth with fingers roaming up his neck and playing with the hair there.

Forest eyes flash with worship as his grip tightens against your waist.

“I feel like you’re made for me.” Knees push his apart as you step between his legs.

“I swear you just take my breath away.” Head craning down for your lips to trail kisses along his cheeks to his jaw.

“You’ve imprint my heart so deeply.” Your hands find themselves running over his chest while his roam over your backside.

“That your love feels undeserving for someone like me.” Those words making you swell with sympathy as kisses continue down the curve of his neck.

“It’s so intense I just have to be near you.” Fingers undoing the few buttons of his shirt as you begin to sink to your knees. His eyes lock on you while his hands link together in your hair, the smooth symphony in the air only escalates the tension.

“Feel you.” He continues, eyes fluttering as your hands move away from his chest to feel over his thighs.

“Hear you.” Your fingers glaze over his erection as you both look at each other with lust.

“Be inside you.” Nails dragging roughly over the print with mascara coated lashes batting up at him.

“Tonight’s your lucky night.” You cut him off. Smirk smoothing over your lips as you begin to undo his belt buckle. “Let me help you relax, Mr. Styles.”

Shifting under your hold he watches you retrieve him out of his boxers. Tongue immediately escapes your mouth looking at how thick and heavy he sits in your hand. It makes pure arousal quake between your thighs as you tug him gently, eyes catching with his.

“Been holding out on me.” It’s his turn to send you a smirk. The look alone makes you want to skip foreplay and take him right there.

You lean in with tongue running from the base to the tip. Pressing flat against the underside it leaves trail of saliva in its wake, your mouth enveloping the crown of his cock while his chest raises with pure satisfaction. His hands continuing to run through your hair.

Pleasant moan vibrates through your throat as your mouth ventures down the expanse of him, tastebuds savouring the salty flavour with each descend of your mouth as you find your paste.

Both of you are still set in this hyper-focus trance looking at each other with the pleasing gestures you assert over him. Spit coating his member as you glide down his cock, plump lips wrapping around his girth as you swallow him down.

“S’good,” Harry slurs, one hand leaving your hair to drag along your neck.

Lashes flutter up at him, relishing in the blissful look crossing his face. He slides down your throat effortlessly with your head bobbing swiftly, his cock wrapped in the slick space of your mouth.

Your clit throbs between your legs, the need to have attention there stirs your next movements as you let your hands glide across his thighs and gather his twin globes into your palm and begin massaging them.

The gesture has Harry groaning, nails gliding down your skin in the change in motions. Eye contact breaking as his head falls against the couch with chest rising in urgency. The site alone makes you want to come, but instead you suffice for the whimper that leaves your mouth when letting yourself glide back up his cock.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl,” Harry moans, fingers trailing away from your neck to collect your hair in his palm.

The comment makes your stomach tremble, his hands following your gracious movements, with sweat beginning to shine from his temples as he chews away on his lip.

“Look at me baby,” He coos, his hold tugging your mouth away from him. Diverting your attention you look up at him; red eyes with saliva glistening across your lips as shaky breath escapes.

“So pretty for me,” Harry utters, thumb running across your bottom lip as his green eyes search your face. “Stand up, get this off.” He reaches over to tug on your robe.

You raise off your knees letting the garment trail off your shoulders as you stand. You’re immediately letting your feet kick off your tall heels, pleasantly sighing at the relaxing comfort at having them off.

The next motions are your hands teasingly pulling your panties down, Harry’s eyes watching every movement as he watches you unclasp your bra next.

His hands reach out for you, feeling over your soft skin as pulls you into him. Straddling his thighs your fingers go to his chest to pull his blazer off, he quickly follows your lead to take it off the rest of the way while you decide to continue undoing the buttons of his dress shirt.

“I want to feel you.” You breathe against his skin.

Gripping his cock in your hand, you gently let him glide between your folds. Harry nods earnestly against your chest, his hold moving from your waist to your breasts, his lips pressing against your fever skin as you let yourself sink down on him. High pitch whimper drawing from your throat as he stretches you out.

“You drive me crazy,” Harry utters with grip tightening as your hips meet each other.

A soft cry releases from your lips as you find the strength to raise back up on your knees and grind yourself into his lap. The thick strain of his dick against your walls has your head falling into his face.

Erotic moans fill the room when your hips discover the perfect rhythm that has him dragging down your folds in the most beautiful way with the combination of him reaching depths of pure bliss.

Harry hand trail away from your breasts and wrap around your throat, rough grasp taking ahold of you as he brings you deeper into his face. From the grip he has to the haunting look in his eyes you are completely devoid of every sense in your body.

“Good girl.” He continues, his thighs positioning himself better on the couch as he begins to thrust and meet your hips in perfect unison.

The name makes your frantic heart gush with devotion, eyes fluttering at the air shortening in your lungs while your nails curl around his shoulders digging into his skin.

“So good for me.” Harry rasps, his merciless strides into your pussy halting your previous movements.

The sweet nectar you produce between your legs sound with each thrust from the satisfying pleasure coursing through you. The static of your climax catches in the pit of your stomach, your eyes rolling from how deep he’s in you that you can’t help but lunge forward.

Lips connecting fiercely with the taste of him making you hum as your tongue explores him. The rough grip he holds around your neck relaxes as he continues his frantic thrusts.

The spark of your release climbs up your spine with fury; head tilting back, eyes fluttering in the thrill of falling apart around him. Your walls quiver in irritated satisfaction as your climax barrels over in passionate rage.

“Tell me…” Harry breathes when pulling away from your face, his eyes watching your dazed out state. Your fingers go numb against his shoulders, with your head completely being propped up by the hold he still has over your throat. “Tell me how I make you feel.”

Completely intoxicated with satisfaction of your release you let your lips begin to pepper kisses along his jaw. The urge to prove to him how much he means to you in this moment has your pussy meeting his rhythmic thrusts.

“Like I’m on fire,” You moan, nails digging into the material of his soaked button up.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to feel you inside me,” Urging him with the seductive tone in your voice. The hands he has wrapped around your neck tenses as he looks at you completely intrigued.

“I —It feels so good,” You whimper as you slowly rock yourself down his length. “You feel so good baby.”

Deep throaty growl shivers over your embrace as his head relaxes deeper into the frame of the couch.

“I want you like this forever.”

The flex of your slick walls around him earns a delicious moan from him. His seed painting your walls effortlessly as you continue to work yourself through his climax. Your fingers travel to his hair and bring your lips back together.

Harry releases his hold from your throat, his palms venturing down your sides and massaging the skin as you lazily ride him. Body relaxing against his comfort as you welcome his kisses.

“Do you even know how weak you make me feel.” Harry breathes against your lips, hands gripping your ass roughly to push you deeper into his chest.

“No… but I like when you tell me.”