new oc! She’s called The Rabbit. An eldritch monster hiding her face and nature behind a porcelain mask, making her appear flawless and pure on the outside. She can shape shift a bit and make her features less or more monstrous.
In the middle of the table, against the woven cloths upon the wall, there was a chair under a canopy, and there sat a lady fair to look upon, and so like was she in form of womanhood to Elrond that Frodo guessed that she was one of his close kindred. Young she was and yet not so. The braids of her dark hair were touched by no frost, her white arms and clear face were flawless and smooth, and the light of stars was in her bright eyes, grey as a cloudless night; yet queenly she looked, and thought and knowledge were in her glance, as of one who has known many things that the years bring.
“Young she was and yet not so. The braids of her dark hair were touched by no frost, her white arms and clear face were flawless and smooth, and the light of stars was in her bright eyes, grey as a cloudless night; yet queenly she looked, and thought and knowledge were in her glance, as of one who has known many things that the years bring.”
“Foolish fellow! And so this is her attraction after all! This it is, her not caring about you, which gives her such a soft skin, and makes her so much taller, and produces all these charms and graces! I do desire that you will not be making her really unhappy; a little love, perhaps, may animate and do her good, but I will not have you plunge her deep, for she is as good a little creature as ever lived, and has a great deal of feeling.”
Hiiii! I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a while, summer’s been busy! I hope you guys like this piece!! Depending on the feedback, I might make a multi-part fic out of it!! xx
Below his office, the party was in full swing, both regular and new clients filing in through the wide double doors. Harry watched the crowd move like cresting ocean waves, his eyes blank. New Year’s Eve was to start off with a bang, regardless of the obviously failing Prohibition the country was under, which meant that Harry’s clubs were packed, and his bank account was swelling with money from the alcohol Niall was slyly smuggling in from Ireland. Any night he wanted, Harry could have a bird on each arm, eager to get a taste of the Harry Styles, and the mere whisper of his name sent people scattering out of his way, making his life unbelievably easy. Harry smirked around the butt of the cigarette. This was it; this was why he came to America. The women, the power, and most of all, the money. Money, money, money was all Harry had seen over the last year. Prohibition was the best thing to ever happen to him.
The clock struck eleven fifty, and with a smug grin, Harry lit up another cigarette and grabbed his glass of Irish whiskey from his desk, striding to the office door. Throwing it open, Harry emerged into the small balcony overlooking the bar and dance floor, blood thrumming as cheers went up at the sight of him.
“To Mr. Styles!” One of the performers on stage hollered out, and crystal glasses glittered in the lighting as they raised into the air.
“Mr. Styles!” It was a jumbled roar of his name, and Harry smiled wickedly as he tipped his head and brought up his own glass. He glanced at his pocket watch again. Five minutes till midnight. His eyes went to the door again as it swung open, two young girls stepping into the room. From afar, he could tell they were both gorgeous, but the one on the right….she was a sight.
Hair curled to perfection, eyes sparkling with excitement as she clutched her comrade’s arm, her ruby painted lips splitting into a dazzling smile. A golden fringed dress clung to her body, stopping halfway down her soft-looking thighs, and the small inched heels were the last thing Harry saw before the girls stepped from the stairs, disappearing into the swirling party. The whiskey burnt his throat as he threw back the rest of the glass, turning to retreat back into his office. The New Year was of no importance to him; as long as no laws changed, Harry worried about nothing. He didn’t worry about how the raucous crowd took him back to the trenches, didn’t worry about how his hands shook as he poured another glass of whiskey. The chair creaked as he sat down again, breathing in the smoke of his cigarette and letting his head drop back. Harry’s eyes slipped closed and he sighed, mind going back to the golden-dressed beauty that had just slipped into his speakeasy. She wouldn’t be too hard to find, or too hard to seduce into his bed for the night. Harry had an aching hunger in the pit of his stomach to know how she would moan beneath him.
Two minutes till, Harry stood once again and descended the stairs to the main room, feigning a smile as he pushed his way through the drunken partygoers. Hands grabbed at him as he passed, but he paid no mind as the shimmering of a golden dress swirling across the room caught his eye. Then her friend came into sight, and Harry altered his course to get to her. She was even more beautiful as he neared, her face pretty, but not flawless. A little soft-looking, doughy maybe, around some areas, but a curl of desire yawned deep in his belly; he was tired of the perfect pin-up girls he normally took home. He wanted flawed, perfectly flawed, and this woman was it. She was gorgeous. Harry watched her friend’s eyes lock in on him, an eyebrow raising as she leaned into the girl’s ear, whispering.
Your head twisted around, following your best friend’s gaze to a stunningly beautiful man that the whole crowd seemed to part for. Forest green eyes roamed your body leisurely, his candy pink lips tugging into a smirk when he realized your eyes were on him. The man was dressed in a sharp black suit, a gleaming watch strung across his buttons and disappearing into his waist coat pocket. Broad shoulders, ring decorated large hands, and legs that went on for ages. His curly brown hair was pushed back off of his forehead, the sides a little longer than military style, and the set of his jaw made you think maybe he was indeed coming to flirt with you. The alcohol you’d downed in the half an hour at the club up the road was already fizzling through your blood and making you much more brave than normal, and you sent the man a sultry smile as your eyes met. Nothing but dark, hot promises swirled in his gaze, stoking the crackling fire that blazed in your belly. Tonight, you’d let yourself have fun just once. Every other night of the year you were the good girl you were supposed to be, but tonight…tonight you’d let loose.
“He’s got his eye on you,” your friend whispered, a jealous gleam in her eyes. “You’ll be the only one of us to get a fuck in tonight.” You laughed at her brashness, breaking your stare with the stranger to spin around with the music. He was close now, almost within an arm’s reach. Your dress flared out around you, but you were stopped mid-turn by long fingers wrapping around your arm and tugging you into a solid chest. Warm breath puffed on your neck, lips just centimeters from your skin.
“Yeh dancin’ fo’ me, love?” He wasn’t polite about his desire, his voice low and husky in your ear. His hands moved to your waist, his hips pressing into your back. You could feel him against you, half hard through his trousers. Wetness pooled in your panties.Your best friend had melted into the crowd, leaving you putty in the stranger’s warm, wandering hands. The hem of your dress slid up a little, his touch following shortly after.
“I am now,” you breathed, and you can feel the smile on his lips against the skin behind your ear. His tongue darted out to lick over the shell of your ear. His fingers trailed higher, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care how scandalous it was, having a man slide his hand up your dress in public.
“Do yeh wan’ m’ to fuck yeh?” Your breathing hitched as his thumb brushed the line of your underwear. A low chuckle vibrated against your back. “I’ll take that as a yes. Go straight back, staircase on the right. I’ll be there in a mo’.” Then he was pushing you away, straightening his overcoat as he cordially greeted some senator who definitely was not supposed to be in a speakeasy.
Harry watched you stumble towards his office, his jaw working as his eyes followed the way your dress fell over the swell of your ass. He cleared his throat. “Excuse me, gentlemen, but I’ve got some business I need to take care of.” Harry shook the senator’s hand, turning around and shoving his way across the floor. He took the stairs slowly, mind racing as he neared the door. He couldn’t wait to see how quickly you’d fall apart for him. You were admiring the photographs on his desk when he entered, your eyes snapping up to his.
“Your family?” Harry nodded, clicking the lock into place before shrugging off his overcoat. You watched him swagger over to you, his eyes dark.
“Didn’t invite yeh up here t’ talk about m’family, pet. How d’yeh wan’ it?” He wasn’t a complete beast; Harry loved seeing the way women fell apart because of him. There was something awfully aphrodisiacal about knowing that he was the reason a woman was shaking, moaning, falling over the edge. You blinked at him, stunned for only a moment before composing your unbothered expression.
“Any way you’d give it, honestly.” Harry’s eyebrow quirked. A smug smile pulled at his lips as he walked to you, his fingers dancing up your arms. You swallowed at his sudden closeness. He smelled wonderful, like citrus and cotton sheets and man. Your mouth had practically been watering since the moment you saw him. His hand pushed a piece of hair out of your eyes.
“An’ if I said righ’ here, ov’ m’desk?” You squirmed, mind filling with visions of him fucking you on the dark cherry wood. Before you knew what you were doing, you were perched on said desk, legs crossed and head tilted slightly as you looked at him from under your lashes.
“Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep, Mr. Styles.” Harry’s pants tightened further at your words, a growl coming from his throat as he stalked to you. His lips met yours, hands cupping your cheeks as you gasped in surprise. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue past the seam of your lips, licking into your mouth eagerly. Your hands fumbled with his belt as he shallowly thrusted his hips, the hard outline of his cock brushing your thigh.
He was quick to shove down his trousers and underwear, his length tapping gently on his stomach. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, flushed, hard, and leaking. Harry smirked at the look on your face, one large hand wrapping around himself and tugging forward once, twice.
“None o’ tha’, angel, no’ tonight. ‘M gonna fuck yeh, yeah? Bend yeh ov’ m’desk and spread tha’ cunt real nice. C’mon, up yeh come.” Your blood sizzled at his words, lust raging through your system. Your panties had no hope; they’d been ruined the minute his suit jacket had come off. Harry helped you up, spinning you so your back was to his chest. Warm lips began to sponge up the side of your neck, greedy hands hiking your dress up slowly but surely. Then he was roughly bending you over, flipping the edge of your dress up over your back enough so he could see your backside. A low growl went through him.
“S’pretty, love, gorgeous. Can’t wait t’ be inside o’ yeh.” Your panties were slid to the side and a long finger ran up your slit, your body jerking at the pleasure. “Bloody soaked. Wan’ me t’ help yeh, pet?” Your cheek was pressed into the cool wood but you nodded, hips pushing back against his finger as he swirled it around your clit.
“Please.” It was a broken whimper that sent Harry’s dick throbbing, his eyes gleaming in the dark of the office.
“Shhh, sweetheart, ‘M gonna take care o’ yeh.” Harry wasted no more time before he was sliding inside of you, a delicious burning stretch following. The moan that came from him was almost enough to send you over, low and gravely and pure pleasure. Then Harry was moving, his cock thick and pulsing as it dragged along your walls. You cried out at the feeling, palms slapping to the desk as Harry ran his hands along the curve of your spine, grunting with each thrust. The party downstairs was all but drowned out as the sound of skin against skin filled the room, heavy breathing bouncing off the walls when his hips picked up speed. Your eyes screwed shut as pleasure coursed through you, walls clenching around Harry’s cock.
“Fuck, bloody–” He cut off with a deep moan, fingers dumpling the skin of your ass. Harry’s green eyes lowered to watch himself disappear into your cunt, a pleased smirk tugging at his lips as you writhed beneath him. His hands were everywhere, stroking the soft skin of your thighs, gripping your ass, wrapped in your hair…too much, it was all too much for you to take.
“Gonna cum!” You gasped against the desk, hips pushing back against his as he fucked into you. He was so thick inside of you, pulsing and warm as his tip brushed a spot that had you seeing white. “Harry!” Low moans came from him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he felt heat coil tighter in his belly.
“C’mon, pet, cum fo’ me. Need yeh t’ cum,” he panted, reveling in the way your walls squeezed his cock. He’d never felt a cunt so tight and warm and wet. He was in pure bliss. Harry brought a hand to your heat, fingers circling your clit quickly as you called out his name again. Pleasure shot through you, your orgasm speeding towards you, and with a final thrust, Harry pushed you over the edge. He watched your face crumple in satisfaction as you came, cunt tightening wonderfully around his length. It wasn’t long before he followed after you, thick ropes of cum coating your walls. Your thighs shook as you came down, breathing harsh as Harry pulled out of you. It was silent while you both fought to regain your breathing, adjusting clothing and smoothing down hair. Harry’s face was even more beautiful post-orgasm, and he tasted as good as he looked when he pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. His head bobbed to the couch in the corner.
“You can sit there for a mo’ while you calm down. Be sure to shut the door on yeh way out.” Then he was gone, the office empty and cold without his dominating presence. You fell onto the couch with a sigh, a pleasant ache already forming between your thighs. It wasn’t too long before your head was on the arm of the sofa, your eyes drifting shut as you nodded off.
Young she was and yet not so. The braids of her dark hair were touched by no frost, her white arms and clear face were flawless and smooth, and the light of stars was in her bright eyes, grey as a cloudless night; yet queenly she looked, and thought and knowledge were in her glance, as of one who has known many things that the years bring. Above her brow her head was covered with a cap of silver lace netted with small gems, glittering white; but her soft grey raiment had no ornament save a girdle of leaves wrought in silver.
You watched Yuri in the mirror nervously nibbling on her
bottom lip while you wrapped her luscious chocolatey locks around a hot wand to
form soft perfect curls. All morning she had been a bundle of nerves for this
dinner and despite your best efforts to calm her down, her hands were still
shaking. “Yuri, you need to relax,” you told her quietly, scooping another inch
of hair up and wrapping it around the curler.
“That’s easy for you to say,” Yuri scoffed, rolling her eyes
at you. “I’m about ten minutes away from having a nervous breakdown!” Her hands
gripped each other tightly in her lap, the colour completely drained.
Unravelling her curl, you arranged it to frame her flawless
face, dropping your hand to her arm and squeezing it reassuringly. “I’m sure the
two men your mother has chosen are going to be amazing,” you said
“Thank you so much. There’s so many people I want to thank- Chris Uhlmann and Steve Lewis who wrote the book that Secret City was based on. Thank you for your generosity and also for allowing Harry to become Harriet so that I could play her.”