A/n: idfk. ooc i guess IDK WHAT HES LIKE AFTER THE CYCLE
You stand at the beach of Chronovista, the wind blowing through your hair. Beside you sat Harper, fidgeting with the bag he always carries around. Right now, he just finished his last delivery for today and is sitting with you at an empty part of the beach. Ever since something shifted in the realm, Harper feels even more on edge and distant. He used to come to you when he feels down in the dumps, but nowadays it feels like he never knows what to say to you.
It makes you feel alone.
You know what it’s like to miss home. You and Harper bonded over the fact that you two feel like you don’t quite belong in this supposed happy place. You sigh, “Hi, Harp.” you speak up. He flinched, looked at you, and quickly looked away. “Hi.” He stuttered out. You chew on your lip. “If you didn’t wanna come here, you didn’t have to-”
“NO!”
Harper’s sudden outburst made you jump and he covered his mouth with his hand, his ears drooping down. “I-I’m sorry. Fuck.” The curse was so quiet you almost missed it. Now it was his turn to sigh. “I’m.. so sorry. I’m a mess.” He curled up on himself. His tail sways behind him slightly. “Ever since the… the shift.. the lockdown… I just wanted to lay down and forget it all. Wait until the day I can go home.” He hides his face in his hands.
You frown, your hand draws random patterns on the sand under you. “Don’t apologize.” You start with. “I get it. I miss my home, too…” You try to get him to look at you and he does. “I have something for you.” You smile softly. Harper’s eyes widen as he straightens his legs on the sand and turns his body to be facing you. You searched through the backpack you brought with you and brightens when you feel the gift box.
You pulled it out and pushed it to his chest. “Here. Careful, it’s fragile.” Harper holds the small box in his hands, “Can I open it..?” He tilts his head as you laugh, “Yes. Yes you can.” You watch fondly as he tries to open the wrapping gently.
“A… perfume bottle..?”
He looks at you confused and you can’t help but laugh more. “Smell it! Do you remember what it is?” You beam at him. He still looks at you confused as he sprayed some of the perfume onto his sleeve and smells it. The way his eyes lit up and his tail wags makes your heart warm. “I-It’s the perfume I told you smelled like… m-my home.” He muttered. “B-but how! It was so expensive… and when I had enough they said that they stopped making them since it wasn’t selling well!” He looks at you bewildered.
“I make it work.” You shrug. You yelp when Harper pulls you into a hug. “Thank you.” He sighs. You blinked before hugging him back.
He lets you go sheepishly before pocketing it in his bag. He started to pick on his fins before you elbow him and he apologized. “Now I feel… really bad. I didn’t bring you anything…” He frowns and you shake your head. “Seeing you again is something I can never put a price on.”
Harper snorts, his face flushing even more. “Okay.” He huffs. He scoots closer to you and his tail coils behind you. Not close enough to touch you, but close enough that you can feel it slightly. He ponders slightly before he opens his bag and pulls out one of the Tori merch he has and offers it to you. You were surprised. “Isn’t this…” You tilt your head. “A long gone limited time Tori merch.” He cuts off embarrassingly.
You gasp, “No! I can’t possibly take this from you!” You grab his wrist that was holding the plush. He pushes it to you. “I insist… I-... I know you’ll take good care of her anyways.” He pleads. You were hesitant, but you took it in your hands. “Yeah. I promise… I’ll take care of this.” You smile.
The two of you continue to sit on the beach watching as the sky turns dark. You wish you could stay like this forever.
Summary: Having Harper as a girlfriend means Drama — with a capital D — follows both of you everywhere. Lucky for you, you’re a slut for a good spectacle.
Notes: this shi toxic as hell holy fuck, didn’t know i had this in me
Flufftober day 18: “Is This Seat Taken?” “That Depends…”
Tags: toxic relationship, vulgar language, derogatory language, manipulation, consensual abuse, dubious consent, fluff, at the very end, reader-insert, no use of y/n for reader insert, gender-neutral reader-insert, no beta we die like chappy, perfect tag for this fic
Word Count: 1,423
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You sit at the bar of the Breaker Box with a huff. Crossing your arms on the counter, you lean forward and bury your face in the empty area made. Avoiding Harper all day was exhausting. Not to mention incredibly difficult to do, which is surprising considering she’s a hamper. But everywhere you turned, around every corner, there she was, an annoyed look on her face that progressively became more miserable than irritated with every one of your dismissals. You don’t want to talk to her until she actually looks sorry for what happened last night.
But for now, you’re hanging out at the bar, letting the easy-listening music mixed with muted chatter from patrons accompany the musings in your head.
You’re torn away from your thoughts by the sound of a glass being set on the counter near you. Raising your head, you see a lowball glass filled with amber liquid, topped with foam, cherries, and an orange twist. Eddie — who you’re 100% sure is the one that made you the drink — is engaged in looking busy by wiping an already-clean tumbler with a rag. Unless you had subconsciously ordered something and forgotten that you’d done so, Eddie had made it for you without you needing to ask him.
You sit up, reaching out and grabbing the whiskey sour Eddie’s prepared for you, taking a long sip. “Thanks.”
Eddie nods. “No problem. You looked like you could use one.”
His assessment is correct. You do need some alcohol right about now.
As you’re taking another sip, you don’t miss the way Eddie’s eyes shift from yours and lock onto something just past you, tensing up and gripping the glass he’s cleaning so tightly you’re afraid he’ll break it.
A voice behind you speaks up, a voice you’d recognize anywhere. “Is… this seat taken?”
You glance over your shoulder to see who’s spoken. It’s Harper, and she looks as though she’s been crying for hours, eyes red and puffy, face flushed, lips pouty and quivering. Good.
You turn back to your drink, swirling it absentmindedly. “That depends…”
Harper’s scoff is shaky, barely holding any bite. “What does that mean?”
“What do you think it means?” You snap, keeping your gaze forward.
Behind the bar, Eddie raises an eyebrow at the two of you. But with a quick raise of your hand and a rather pointed look, he backs away without a word. This isn’t something he needs to be involved in.
While you’re taking another sip of your drink, Harper sits on the stool next to you. You spare her another glance, and you can see she’s close to tears, sniffling. “You’re mad at me about last night, aren’t you?”
“No shit I’m mad, Harper. You fucking screamed Dirk’s name in the middle of sex.”
Conversations from patrons nearby the two of you hush the second you say that. You hadn’t exactly shouted it, but you weren’t really being quiet about it either.
You don’t pay them any mind, continuing. “Not even just his name, it was that stupid fuckass nickname you called him when you two were dating.”
Harper immediately breaks down in tears, sobs racking her body. She doesn’t hold back, letting out the most heartwrenching wails. Well, that didn’t take very long…
In between hiccups, she manages to say, “I’m sorry, okay?! I’m fucking sorry, I didn’t mean to! Just please don’t leave me!”
Bingo.
That’s it. You can’t hold it in anymore. The smirk you’ve been holding back blooms on your lips, a light chuckle escaping as well. “Okay. Apology accepted.”
You can see the whiplash in Harper’s expression in real time, going from lachrymose to disoriented. Her confused look only makes you grin wider. “Wait, you’re not— you forgive me? Already?”
“Harper, I forgave you the moment I saw you come in here looking as though you’ve been crying and sobbing like a bitch.”
Oh, look at that. Harper’s signature temper. “The fuck did you just say to me?!”
“As soon as I saw you were actually sorry about what you did last night, I forgave you. Everything else after that… well, call it a cherry on top.”
“So you had me basically performing for you like a fucking circus animal as a ‘cherry on top’?!” Steam may as well be pouring from her ears.
Taking one last sip of your whiskey sour before setting it down, you nod at her wordlessly.
Before you can react, Harper slaps you in the cheek, hard. There’s a resound crack that echoes through the bar upon impact. Your head whips to the side from the force of the blow, your body following. You hit the bar counter, hard, and land roughly on your elbows. The place where Harper slapped you is already stinging, pins and needles spreading over your skin in the shape of her hand.
From the bar, Eddie has sprung out from his position against the wall, and is at your side in an instant. There’s the sound of shuffling behind you, coupled with Harper screeching, “Let go of me!” You can only assume someone’s grabbed her.
Gingerly, you reach up and touch your cheek. Immediately, you pull away, hissing in discomfort. There’s no doubt in your mind that it’s already swollen.
“Shit…” You hear Eddie mumble under his breath, confirming what you suspect. Seconds later and he’s shoving your cold lowball glass against your cheek.
You sigh at the cooling sensation now spreading where the glass sits against your skin. You slip your hand underneath Eddie’s and take the glass from him. “Thanks, Eddie. I’ve got it.”
Everyone is staring now, a hush falling over the place as you slowly turn back around to face your crazed girlfriend.
You see her being restrained by Kristof and Shelley, each of them keeping Harper’s arms pinned to her sides. She’s struggling fiercely against them — pointlessly, of course, anyone with a brain knows that the two of them combined are a force to be reckoned with. This doesn’t deter her. “I swear, if you don’t let me go right now—!”
Kristoff interrupts Harper’s empty threat. “After you have harmed our Violent Delight? I think not!”
Shelley grunts when Harper’s elbow manages to make contact with her side. “I’m pretty sure Eddie and Volt won’t mind us tossing you out, let you cool off out there—”
Okay, now it’s going too far. “No!” You shout.
Kristof and Shelley immediately pause, not even flinching when Harper continues in her attacks.
Taking a deep breath, you slowly take the glass away from your cheek, setting it back down on the counter. “You heard Harper. Let her go.”
They hesitate, obviously intent on arguing with you. But one glance at the look in your eyes and they reluctantly release Harper from their hold, backing off, clearly not happy with your request. Of course, they don’t leave without sending some nasty glares her way.
Harper doesn’t run, simply brushing herself off and crossing her arms at you, giving you a glare that’s downright filthy.
After a moment, you start laughing. “God, that was so fucking sexy, Harper.”
And just like that, her angry expression melts into one of love and joy. “Really? I thought I was a little too hard… but if you say so!”
“I do say so. Holy shit, I don’t think I’ve ever been more in love with you than I am right now.”
Harper grins at you, biting her lip salaciously. “Oh, are you? Wanna come over and… prove it?”
“Mmmm…” Just as you’re about to indulge her, you remember where exactly you are. “Let’s save it for tonight, yeah?” Instead, you hold your arm out for her to hang on to. “Come on, I’m pretty sure I can convince Telly to put Mean Girls on for us.”
Harper giggles, looping her arm through yours. “Awww, you’d do that for me, Pookie?”
You cringe slightly at the nickname. “What did I say about you calling me that?”
“You like it, I know you do.”
“That’s debatable.”
“You’re debatable.”
“That doesn’t even— whatever.”
Harper grabs your arm with both hands, holding you tightly and bringing you closer to her. “I love you, Pookie.”
Rolling your eyes at the continued use of the nickname, you smile nonetheless. “Love you too, Harper.” Leaning in, you give her a quick forehead kiss, making Harper giggle.
You exit the bar together arm in arm, laughing and joking, not paying attention to the room full of bewildered objects still reeling from the events that had just taken place.
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Notes: woagh. What was that
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All of the objects you'd realised, left your house. You can't blame them for that, even if it hurts. Now that they have the opportunity and ability to spread their wings, who would you be to clip them?
All of the objects you'd realised, left your house. All except for Harper.
Notes: Fem Reader with a vagina, dubious consent, unhealthy relationships, emotional manipulation, biting/marking, possessive behaviour. Girls with mental health issues <3
===
Most of the objects you'd realised had been eager to leave. While it'd been the tiniest bit hurtful, really, you understand that most people don't want to be confined to a house. They have never seen anything of the outside world, of course they'd be excited to dive in. You can't, and shouldn't, expect everyone to become a shut-in like you. It's a gradual process. You realise them, bit by bit, say goodbye and stay in regular touch. Some of them come to visit quite regularly. So far, all of them have moved out.
It's been a gradual progress, a slow emptying of your house. A learning process for everyone involved. You've developed a whole routine alongside a, rather long, presentation centred around 'how to keep a human body alive and not get arrested (please don't get arrested you legally don't exist)'. You've had to make a lot of amendments and extra slides. Everyone had taken your words, mostly, to heart and left to a new future.
Except for your 'good friend' Harper.
It's not as if you hadn't expected her to be a bit more difficult than the average object, at the very least. In the end, you'd put her off until she was saved until last. A fact she had seemed to be quite pleased with.
You give her the presentation, as you've done with so many others. The words are practically burned into your brain at this point. Harper looks attentive. She smiles, nods along, hums at the right moments and asks the occasional question. It's going a lot better than expected.
"Do you have any comments or questions?" You say as your final rehearsed line. "I know it's probably a lot to take in… I just know it helped some of the others with adjusting."
Harper smiles sweetly at you. "It won't be a problem. I'll have you to help me every step of the way, right?"
"…Yeah! I mean, my door will always be open for you. It's okay if not everything goes right at first— You know some of the others had to go back to crashing here for a while."
"Don't be silly! You're such a funny girl." She twirls a strand of hair around her finger, leaning forward. "Who ever said I was leaving?"
You inhale sharply, shoulders stiffening. How are you ever going to navigate yourself through this minefield? You don't hate Harper by any means, but her presence is… Overwhelming to you, in more ways than one. She's never made it a secret that she's interested in being something other than friends. Somehow, you've always managed to dance around the subject with vague answers. In this situation, that won't be an option.
"You'll stay here, with me? …Is that really what you want?" Harper's expression shifts, a crease forming in between her brow.
"What? You don't want me here?" She laughs without humour. "Is that what you mean? Please. Do tell me what you mean."
"That's, that's never what I said!" You quickly move to clarify. Rubbing your hands together in front of your body, you lower your gaze. "Look, I— If you really want to stay, I'm not kicking you out. I really won't. But… Don't you want to get out there, out of this house? You don't have to be like, I mean, you could see new things! More of the world. You could change, Harper, you could—"
"I see how it is," she interrupts and you fall quiet. She gets louder with every word she speaks. "I think what you're trying to say is: get the FUCK out of here, Harper. Isn't that it? You want me to leave and never look back, so you won't have to bother with a crazy bitch like me ever again!!"
You know Harper a bit better now, through countless interactions. She must've been anticipating this. She's had this conversation many times before, in her brain. It's the only reason she'd flip to anger this quickly. The whole process is a trigger for her. Your throat goes dry and your heart pounds hard, quick, against your ribcage. You open your mouth and no words come out. Harper continues on.
"I know you preferred it when I was just a hamper. When you could use those fancy glasses of yours to come and go as you pleased. You never had to even acknowledge my existence if you didn't feel like it! When you didn't think you could handle someone like me for the day. That's what's been going through your mind all along, hasn't it?"
She gets up from the couch in your living room and, in the blink of an eye, has wrapped herself around you. Her hold is crushing. Fingernails dig into your back, painful despite the layers of fabric separating her from your skin.
"I won't let myself be ignored anymore, now. I won't let you toss me out. You'll just have to deal with it. …Who else is going to be here and spend time with you, anyway? Not any of your lovers, that's for sure. They've all got their fun, free human lives now. They've forgotten all about you." Her grip loosens just a little. The tips of her fingers glide of your shoulder blades.
"Aren't you angry with them? Don't you hate them all, for doing this to you? Or do you like hurting yourself like this?" Your throat is closed up. You can't find it in yourself to answer Harper's questions. "…Well, they're all gone. Except for me."
Her voice has softened, sweetened like honey. "I'll stay. Right here, with you. I won't leave you…" She clings to the fabric of your shirt. "And you won't leave me."
You're dizzy. You can hardly breathe. Your knees are shaking, knocking against hers. Harper must feel it. Awful as it is, the touch of her, the scent of fresh linen clinging to her and, frankly, the way she speaks, send your body into overdrive. Your face is flushed. When's the last time you've even been touched? It's fine. All of this is fine.
"Okay," you croak out, finally. "Okay. I was never… You can stay. Stay."
Harper becomes like your shadow. The only place she detaches herself from your side is in the bathroom. She'll sit on the kitchen counter, magazine in hand, while you're cooking dinner. Usually, she'll join you in watching a movie or show, or sketch on the couch while you're playing a game. The only chore she really helps you with is folding laundry. She's good at it, too. Sometimes, she just… Stares. Doesn't do anything other than drink in the sight of you with her eyes. (Once, when you'd gone to exercise in an effort to keep up good habits, you'd caught her staring at you in the doorway halfway through the routine. It'd made you shiver.)
It drives you a bit crazy. You feel like you have no privacy anymore, not a moment to yourself. Any attempt to tell her this has had no results. It isn't too bad, though. Harper isn't combative, complains or makes you upset. She seems quite happy, even. And affectionate with you. There's literally no one else here other than the two of you, after all. There's nothing that can go wrong as long as you are like this, isolated from the rest of the world.
Cracks start to show when you let her play around on your phone. She loves scrolling through social media. It's hard to guess why. The internet is filled to the brim with things she's never seen before. But when you eventually get your phone back, you get some weird texts.
Unknown Number: Hey. This is Clarence. Harper blocked my number, I'm pretty sure. You shouldn't let her use your phone.
Unknown Number: Is she still in your house?? You need to get her the hell out of there. She's sending people nasty stuff pretending to be you. I can't be the only one she does this to.
Unknown Number: Go check if I'm blocked if you don't believe me. You can do whatever you want, but getting you to break us up was one of the best things that ever happened to me. Don't make the mistake I did. RUN.
"…Did you block Clarence on my phone, Harper?" You ask slowly. Your phone buzzes again as you put it face-down on the counter. She's sitting on a chair in the kitchen as you wipe down the cabinets.
"Who told you that?!" She spits out. "I bet it was Dirk himself. He never knew when to mind his own business. Maybe he heard we were still here, together, and he got jealous. I never did anything."
"…I didn't do it, though."
"Well, maybe you did! On accident. Or it was some kind of glitch, or whatever, I don't know how these things work! You certainly didn't lose anything by not hearing from him, though…"
You sigh and drop the subject. You're tired. It doesn't feel worth arguing about, especially since you won't actually be able to get her to leave. You don't think you can take her on and force her out, really. It's fine. You can deal with this. Eventually, she must get bored and decide against all of this.
One time, while you're in the shower, you can hear and feel the front door slamming shut over the drone of the streaming water.
"Harper?" You call out. "What happened?" Only to get no response. You hurry through your routine, pulling on clothes over still-damp skin as you go looking for her.
"It was just some religious people. Going door-to-door," Harper tells you before you even have the chance to ask. All the curtains in your living room are drawn. Her eyes on you as sharp as she stares you down. "I sent them away. There's nothing to worry about." When you later look out through the glass of your front door, you don't see anyone.
Harper sleeps on the couch downstairs. It would be the polite thing to offer her your bed, but she's staying here for the long term and you'll grant yourself one morsel of self-indulge and privacy. Bedtime is one of the few other times where you know that you'll be left alone.
It's the middle of the night when your mattress dips with new weight. A soft groan slips out from the back of your throat. Your eyes flutter open, brain still struggling to catch up with the situation. A feminine voice shushes you and warm fingers card through your hair.
For a moment, you've forgotten all about the many objects that have left your house, and you're convinced it's Betty. She'd always soothe you when you woke up in the middle of the night, whether because of sleeplessness or a nightmare. Her soft tones always managed to lull you back to sleep. She doesn't speak, this time. Yet, in no time at all, your eyes are sliding shut again, muscles completely relaxed as you drift back off to sleep.
It's only when you wake up in the morning that you realise you're in someone else's arms. Dawn greets you with the familiar scent of fresh linen. Loose limbs are wrapped around you, plump lips pressed into the crook of your neck. They curl into a smile against your throat as you stir for the first time.
"Good morning," Harper mumbles, hot breath brushing against your neck, nose nuzzled up against the skin. You freeze. Goosebumps rush down your arm. You make a move to get up, but are kept down by one of Harper's arms and legs. She's holding you like some kind of teddy bear. Your face is burning up.
"Harper!!" You exclaim, wriggling a bit. "You're not supposed to— You can't just slip into my bed at night!"
"You can't seriously expect me to sleep on the couch, forever. I haven't seen you do anything to set me up with a room of my own…" Her hand grazes over the exposed skin over your stomach, your shirt pulled upwards from the tossing and turning during the night. "It's much more comfortable, here, with you."
There's a lot here that's obviously wrong. Still, you know that the couch can't be that comfortable… And a part of you had been missing something like this. It's been ages since someone else has touched you, held you, and Harper is soft and warm. Her hold soothes an unnamed feeling inside of you.
You know that you should tell her to leave. She'll keep chipping away at your boundaries if you don't show that you have a spine. …But you're tired. Does this really matter all that much? Harper has been cooing in your ear for so long that you've really begun to believe that no one else might look at you the same way. She's seen you at your absolute worst, spent time with Dirk during the weeks you'd let your dirty laundry pile up, watched you wander in and out of the room, trying but lacking the energy to get started. And she's still here. There's something wrong with you for finding that comforting.
"You smell really nice," Harper purposefully mumbles against your neck again, lips grazing the skin. "Stay in bed a little longer, okay? We don't have any other plans."
The two of you sharing a bed becomes a daily occurrence. Harper never fails to slip into bed after you, leaning over you on your side and pressing a 'goodnight kiss' to your forehead. You don't curl up against her while you're awake. Invariably, however, you wake up tangled up in her limbs, on the same side of the bad. You sleep a little bit better. It's an incredibly tender and domestic scene, especially when she wakes with a breathy giggle on her lips, telling you that you'd been muttering her name in your sleep.
None of it actually assuages the discontent that has been brewing underneath the surface. Staying at home for so long has made you into a far more private person. A recluse, a hermit, whatever you want to call it. You're not used to having people constantly in your space anymore. And if you hear Harper take another audible breath, or are forced to entertain her starting another conversation, you're going to tear your own hair out.
In reality, all you do is sigh and rub at your eyes.
"Harper, can I just… Do you mind sitting in another room, for a little bit? It's nothing personal. But, yeah, I like some alone time, sometimes." You once again find yourself in the living room, together with her.
"Oh don't act so silly!" Harper rolls her eyes, physically disregarding your worries with a flick of her wrist. "You'll hardly notice I'm there. It's not like you've felt like actually talking to me today, so what exactly am I bothering you with? The fact that I'm alive?" She laughs, off-kilter.
"Stay here, then," you mutter and move to get up yourself. "I'm going to my bedroom." If necessary, you guess you'll fucking barricade your door. The fact that such a thing has become a necessity leaves you wanting to cry.
Her hand latches around your wrist. "At least leave your phone with me. Maybe you're tired of my attention, huh? Need someone else to soothe your poor, aching little heart?"
It's the straw that breaks the camel's back.
"We're not even dating!" Frustration bursts out all at once, bottled up emotions leaving through a scream that sets your throat on fire. "We're not anything! I'm only letting you stay here, because, because, I don't even fucking know at this point! Harper, can you honestly, and I mean this with no disrespect…" You place your hand over your heart, tone taking on one of condescension, each of your words a poisoned blade poised to cut.
"Can you be surprised that people keep leaving you, if you're this miserable to be around, if you can't stop breathing down their goddamn neck for five minutes?! And to insist on every. Little. Thing. Going your way! You can't expect people to stick around if you're like this!"
The force of your words leave you panting, slightly hunched over. It's a relief to get them past your lips, but there's nothing here to be proud about. Your heart beats at the back of your throat as blood is pumping frantically through your body. Harper's grip on you hasn't loosened. Her pointer finger presses down on your pulse point.
Harper's eyes are wide for a flash, her mouth a little slack. It's gone as fast as it appeared. A cold mask slips into its place. Eyes narrow into slits, a smile somehow finds it way to her mouth. You're trembling.
"Ha! That's nostalgic…" Her voice is as calm as the rumbling before a storm. "You know, you sound just like Dirkie when you say stuff like that."
"Well, I get why he left you now!" You say, yet another stab. A muscle at the corner of her mouth twitches, she closes her eyes for just a moment. You're trembling all over, face hot with anger. Harper's hold around your wrist tightens.
"Did he put you up to this? Have you kept texting him? You really shouldn't— This isn't like you at all."
"It's you! It's all you! You bring out the worst in me!" You've burned through your energy. Your shoulders slump, eyelids sagging. "Why aren't you… Why aren't you yelling at me?! Do something!" Your voice cracks and your exhale is shuddering.
This would be so much easier if she acted like she usually would. If she'd scream back at you, growing into an inferno of rage of her own. It would make you feel a little more justified. You know she's mad. She has to be. Her fingers have grown paler at the tips where she's still clutching your wrist. You wouldn't be surprised if there are fingertip-shaped marks there tomorrow morning.
She only looks at you. She's still here.
Your shoulders shake, tears jump to your eyes. "I'm never, I'm never like this with anyone else… You should go already." You hiccup on a breath and start to sob violently, practically hacking with the force of it all. Harper's features soften the tiniest bit.
"There we go, there it is." Harper cooes at you, rubbing a circle on your skin with her finger.
She yanks on your arm with a sudden, hard force. Pain blossoms around your shoulder and wrist and you practically collapse on top of her. She wraps both of her arms around you without a noise of complaint, petting your back with almost frantic movements. You sob into her hair and babble out a nonsensical string of apologies, choking on your own breaths.
"Baby, baby, baby…" She sighs out, hands wandering up and down your back. She plays with the hem of your shirt between her fingers. "You were really, really mean to me back there. I can't believe you'd use my struggles against me like that. The ones I told you about because I trusted you so much."
"I'm sorry, really sorry…" You sob out. "You're right. I shouldn't have said it, it was mean, and awful and— I shouldn't have. I'm sorry."
What you said did reflect your true feelings, though, in part. You're never going to be able to convince her that they were purely spur of the moment exclamations. And you'd be lying.
"I'm not sure if I forgive you yet. Anyone else would hate you for this. You know that, right? They would leave you. I'd know." Her hand wanders upwards, moving to pet at your head.
A shiver runs up your spine. You inhale strongly through your nose, clogged with tears. "…How can I make it up to you?"
Harper lets out a giggle, high-pitched and airy, her fingers sneaking underneath the fabric of your shirt. Her nails tease at your skin. She lightly traces patterns on your break that you quickly lose track of.
"I think you know what to do." Her fingers find the band of your bra, tugging it up and allowing it to snap back against your skin. "I've seen how you look at me. It's time to act on your feelings."
There's definitely feelings you have towards Harper. She's gorgeous, for one, incredibly interested in you—for better or for worse—and she… Has stayed behind. But it's not all rose-coloured, saccharine and romantic. You're not even sure if you like her, as a person. Or more so just pity her. It's all tangled up in your head in one big, suffocating mess. Maybe she's the one pitying you.
You swallow thickly and take in a shuddering breath. It only takes a little shifting to get in a more comfortable position. You're practically already in Harper's lap, so you spread your legs a little, putting your knees on both sides of her thighs. You chew on the inside of your lip. You must look like such a wreck right now. Hurriedly, you wipe at your face with the back of your forearm. You cup her face with one hand and she leans up to look at you, her soft sigh brushing against your mouth just before your lips meet hers.
Her hand is on the back of your head within seconds. The pressure she puts behind the touch has your faces pushed uncomfortably close together, your nose pushing hard against her cheek. You can't really breathe. Harper shifts her mouth, catching your bottom lip in between hers and sucking on it. She hums against your lips, chest trembling with a bit of suppressed laughter, as the tip of her tongue peeks out to graze along you.
You take a deep breath. Your muscles relax a little, your crotch pressing closer to hers. You're really straddling her now. Harper takes it as an invitation to move in even further. She's prodding at you now, trying to get you to open up for her, and you relent. Her tongue is exploring your mouth at once. Harper teases the sensitive roof of your mouth, pulling a soft whimper from the back of your throat.
Emboldened, her hand starts to wander further. She squeezes your ass in the palm of her and pulls you flush against her. Your chests are pressed together. There's a hair in your mouth, surely one of those long ones of hers that end up absolutely everywhere, but neither of you break the kiss for it. The pressure on the back has eased up a little bit. You can breathe through the kiss, tongues tangled together, spit-slick lips pressed against each other.
Harper is the one to pull away, panting and cheeks flushed. "You're the one who's making it up to me," she says. "And yet, I'm the one who's taking the lead." Green eyes bore into yours.
You lick your lips, the heat on your face blazing further in intensity. "I thought… That's what you liked." You squirm, and Harper grinds her hips upwards to meet with yours.
She smiles. A tension has fallen off of her shoulders, there's a change in the set of her mouth. You bending to her will like this has clearly dissipated her anger, for now.
"Okay, you're right, that's true. You know me pretty well, hm?" Her eyes slide half-closed, she leans into the hand that's still holding her cheek. "Say it to me. Tell me you want to do what I tell you to."
That's… A couple steps further than you were anticipating this to go. You turn your head away, embarrassment tying your insides in knots. As soon as her hands touch your face, forcing you to look at her, you whine.
"Well? And say my name while you do it."
"I… I want you to, uh, tell me what to do, Harper." You mumble, barely above a whisper. Wetness has gathered in between your legs and leaks into your underwear.
"Good enough," is all she says, before pulling you into yet another kiss.
It's quicker, more all-consuming, this time. She tilts her head and captures your mouth with hers, sloppily making out with you. Her hand guides yours to her chest. She isn't wearing a bra. As soon as you fondle her chest through the fabric of her top, she starts to hum against your mouth, hips grinding against yours. Harper tilts her head sideways and pushes her tongue just that little bit further into your mouth.
It doesn't take long before you're wriggling both of your hands underneath her shirt. You cup both of her breasts in your hands, squeezing them slightly as you rub circles around her hard nipples with your thumbs. Breathless, you break the kiss and press your face into the crook of her neck instead. Up and down you go, leaving a trail of wet kisses in your wake. You stop to suck on the skin. Your teeth graze the skin of her throat and Harper moans.
"Yeah, yeah, that's nice…" She pants out, leaning to the side to give you better access to her neck. You nibble on her skin, more rubbing it in between your teeth than actually biting down. Harper trembles and shifts her way from side to side.
"Harder," she orders. You tense up, but do as she tells you to, sucking the flesh into your mouth and applying more pressure. "Harder! I'm not going to break, I'll be fine, just—!"
Maybe it's a spark of your previous anger that makes you bite down as hard as you do, then. Your teeth sink into her skin until the copper taste of blood bursts onto your tongue. Harper is clawing at your back, her whole body underneath you tense as a bow, a series of curses flying from her mouth.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You pull away, eyes wide, some of her blood still on your lips with an apology ready on your tongue. But Harper starts to laugh. Her face is, somehow, even more flushed, her pupils blown wide. She brings her fingers to the wound, smearing the blood up and down her neck. It's really only a couple of droplets. It'd tasted like so much more. She lets out a shuddering sigh.
"I hope it'll scar… Mm, fuck, that really did hurt, though. You don't hold back." Her hand is back on your skull again, guiding you to your collarbone. "Do that again, baby. A little less hard."
You leave hickeys and bites wherever your mouth moves, primarily where the neck meets her shoulder and on her collarbone. Every single one of them is rewarded with one of Harper's giggles, a breathy moan or a pet to the top of your head. You're a lot less rough when it comes to her chest. You pause to suck on her nipples, playing with the other one using your fingers. Harper's sensitive there, you quickly realise. She shakes and leans back, almost squirming away from your touch, letting out trembling little high-pitched whimpers. But she never tells you to stop.
You lift yourself up and Harper pulls you back down with a quick arm around your waist. "I, I was going to get on my knees," you admit. "I should've warned you."
Harper melts at that, putting both of her hands back at her side. "That sounds wonderful," she croons. "You're going to show me another use of your mouth?"
Instead of answering, you opt to show her. You climb off of Harper's lap and get on your knees in front of her, spreading her legs. The moment your heart is underneath her skirt, again sucking marks into the inside of her thigh, Harper's foot is prodding at your pussy. You push yourself up on your knees and her leg slots in between your thighs. It leaves you with her lower leg to grind up against. Is it the most comfortable thing in the world? No. But you're desperate, pussy-drunk without even getting to lap at her clit yet, and smugness is oozing off of Harper as soon as you move against what she's giving you.
With every kiss, you get closer to Harper's soaked pussy. Your head is being squeezed in between her thighs, pressing against you harder and harder in anticipation. Her panties are adorable, pristine white and lacy things. And absolutely soaked. She'd shown them off to you when she'd initially bought them. You'd flushed and turned your head away then, but now you're pressing your lips against her clothed clit. You kiss it through the fabric.
Harper flips up her skirt and pulls, lightly this time, on your hair. "Stop! You're such a, haah, you're such a tease! I can't take this!" She's pushing herself up, shimmying her panties down her legs. In the back of your brain, you know that this is going to leave such a massive stain on your couch. Thankfully, Koa isn't here anymore.
"You could, uh, you could also sit on my face…?" You offer. The look on Harper's face is answer enough.
And that's how you end up on your back, staring up at the ceiling, the soft cushions of your couch supporting your neck as your nose is buried in Harper's crotch. Her panties and skirt are tossed somewhere nearby on the floor, her knees fit just barely next to your head. Still, you have to push yourself up on your elbows a little bit to make it all the way. Her pubic hair brushes against your nose with every movement of your lips.
You put your hands on her hips to steady her, and start to test the waters to see what your new partner likes. The entire lower half of your face is wet and sticky with her slick. You press the flat of your tongue firmly against her clit, moving up and down just a little bit. Or you purse your lips around it and suck, swirling your tongue around it as if you're making out with her most sensitive spot. You don't have the mind to also start toying with her hole, to slip in a finger or two there. You're lost in the scent and taste of there. You can, quite literally, hardly breathe.
Her pussy continues to gush all over your face. Verbally, Harper is no less encouraging. She moans out your name so often that you quickly lose count of it all and never hesitates to let you know just how much of a good time she's having. Suffice it to say, she's loud. Moaning and whining and whimpering, she seems to want to let your neighbours, no, the whole world know just how good you're making her feel.
"God, baby, you're so good at this!" Her hand tightens in your hair, nails scratching at your scalp. "You've, ngh, I bet you've practiced this with lots of girls, huh? But, not, not anymore! You're only going to use your pretty lips with me after this— Ever."
Once she gets close to the edge, you really start being unable to breathe. Your jaw aches as Harper presses down on you and grinds her pussy against your face. At this point, you hardly change the pace. You press your tongue against her clit and allow her to rub herself on it, doing what feels best for her, allowing your face to be used as sex toy. When she does cum, it's sudden and powerful, her hips taking on even more frantic jolts as she babbles mindlessly.
"Fuck— I thought of this so much, touched myself so much, while lying right there next to you!" She lets out a guttural moan, hand soothing where she'd just been yanking on your hair. "I love you, baby, I love you so much."
There's a lot to unpack there. Frankly, right now, you don't have the mind to, considering that you really are on the verge of passing out.
Harper's pussy leaves a wet mark behind on your face as she adjusts her position. You greedily inhale oxygen through your nose, your vision still somewhat blurry and your eyes half-lidded. She smiles at you as she takes a strand of your hair, stuck to your forehead with sweat, and tucks it behind your ear.
"You look soooo fucked out right now," she tells you, laughing softly. You can hardly imagine that you can possibly look more cumdrunk than her. "Baby, I've never had sex with a girl before, but it's supposed to go on for hours, right?"
disclaimer about this post: i am a lesbian, lol. + harper x reader, so there are toxic/abusive aspects here! reader is explicitly female.
harper with a girlfriend would absolutely be one of those girls who eats herself ALIVE about the idea that you're going to leave her... and for a man, specifically. it's one of those things she just can't get out over her head and absolutely obsesses over. because what can she even do, then. (her worst nightmare is genuinely that you'd tell her that you aren't attracted to women at All anymore. ...not that it'd make her give up, mind you.)
she'll get you a decently sized strap to fuck you open with, the toy one of the more realistic types. she's wide-eyed, nails digging into your shoulders, practically breathing in your ear while she asks if you'll leave her for someone with a bigger, better-feeling cock than her. that you'll end up with someone who will toss you aside like trash once your hole is plugged up with cum. she'd never, ever do that. you love her, right? tell her that you love her.
harper has been pounding into you for ages at this point and your voice cracks when you tell her exactly what she wants to hear.
dirk x reader x harper -> extended throuple ending hcs
notes: nsft,...a lot of the typical 'dirk & harper warnings.' abusive/toxic relationships, verbal abuse, emotional manipulation, scapegoating, referenced cheating.
this relationship is not healthy whatsoever, nor does it work out AT ALL, but it's just hot to me. so you know what you're signing up for here lol. i loooove their throuple ending <3
Anyone with eyes can tell that Dirk and Harper are no good for each other. Even you, now entangled in a relationship with both of them, had been able to tell. But you've never been the best at speaking up when under stress (or at all, if the fact that you haven't left your house in years is anything to go by) and any conversation with both of them is nothing short of volatile. You were too meek to get the truth past your lips: that they were better off breaking up after all. And, when they'd extended their hands towards you, asked you to join them with a pleading look in their eyes… You can't deny the fact that they're both incredibly attractive, that the attention might've gone to your head a little and that you'd accepted.
Dirk and Harper's dynamic changes with the addition of a new person. That doesn't change the fact that you usually seem to fulfil the role of rope in their tug-of-war. Harper has developed a tendency to lift one of you up, while scapegoating the other. ("You're just so much sweeter to me than Dirkie," she cooes at you, a hand resting heavily on your shoulder or a finger toying with your hair. "I know you wouldn't hurt me like that, ever. That you actually listen.")
She flips her lid at Dirk more often, frankly. There's been months of resentment there to fester that simply aren't there with you. And Dirk also just enjoys getting a rise out of her, pressing her buttons during moments of calm when everything has just settled down. Though that isn't to say she never gets upset with you either. Suffice it to say, she does not agree with your mission of getting to know most of the other objects in the houses, though she shows her displeasure in a different manner than she would with Dirk.
He returns her fire when she raises her voice at him and doesn't waver, except to get the hell out of there when it's become enough. But you cower and flinch when she starts to scream at you, give her the sort of afraid or hazy-eyed look that makes her feel absolutely awful, like some kind of freakish monster. It's enough to jolt her back to herself, most of the time. (And if it isn't, Dirk is usually there to have your back, leading to both of you being disgraced.)
Most of the time, when she's upset with you, she'll shed tears and hold you and whisper how horrible what you've been doing is making her feel— Can't you see how upset she is? You wanted to join them, wanted to be together with her, and now she isn't enough for you?! If she's upset, that's only because you aren't doing what you promised, following one of the basic rules of a relationship. To just stay with her!! To make her feel loved!!! You already murdered Chappy and stomped on her heart, why do you insisting on kicking her when she's down? Without fail, her emotions spiral from her control, to the point that any bad intent slips through her fingers and she's just genuinely, heartrendingly upset and terrified.
Dirk is more stable, overall, but that doesn't mean he's perfect. He can be kind of an asshole. If he's really not feeling it, he can easily walk away and slip out while Harper is focused on you, leaving you to fend for yourself for his own peace of mind. Or he'll put you on the spot right in the middle of them, forcing you to pick sides, diverting some of the attention away from him. You can't entirely hold it against him, though it never fails to leave a bit of a bitter taste in your mouth. One that Harper readily takes advantage of, nuzzling her face against yours and insisting that she'd never, ever leave you behind like that…
One time, Dirk simply gets up, grabs you by your wrist, drags you with him to your bedroom closet upstairs and introduces you to his… Other lover? It's frankly a bit baffling to you. It's just a body pillow. It's not anything you can realize or interact with, truly something soulless. And yet, Dirk speaks about it as if it were actually real, and the notion that Harper, while making the wrong conclusions, hadn't entirely been wrong about the (emotional) cheating makes you sick to your stomach. But are you going to tell her about, like, the equivalent of someone having a serious crush on a fictional character?! The body pillow not real. Is that worth the nuclear fallout that confrontation would lead to…? Would it be worth to betray one of your partners? (Though, really, aren't you already kind of doing that by keeping Dirk's 'secret'?)
You're slowly driven mad by the relationship you're in, and anyone who spent more than 10 minutes around you couldn't possibly comprehend why you're still together. That you didn't throw the towel in the ring on the second day. It's because it's exactly as Dirk himself had told you before: it isn't all bad, there are a number of good days, they dwindle, and then it becomes better again. No one involved is some cartoonish supervillain, incessantly twirling their moustache and cackling to themselves about how they're going to ruin your day, this time.
Dirk and Harper both want to feel needed and, when your relationship is in calmer waters, you are absolutely showered in affection. Neither of them have much contact with anyone else in the house, except concerning noise complaints. They've all heard each other's stories a thousand times before and they listen to you with rapt attention, laugh along with your jokes, can spend hours cuddled up together with you, just talking. No one has ever been quite that interested in you before, quite this happy to see you— Both of them manage to make you feel special in a way you've never felt before, even when it's that they're willing to get angry over or for you.
Also, the sex is pretty great, if not mind-blowing. Fucking them both at the same time is overwhelming, usually in all the best ways. You've had Harper sit on your face before while Dirk pounds into you, your girlfriend facing his way. ("You're so silly," Harper giggles breathily while you're drowning in her pussy, her clit grinding against your tongue. "Even Dirkie can tell you exactly what to do, and—You'll listen. You're just, haaah, made for stuff like this!"
Further away from you, Dirk groans as your hole clamps down around him. "Fuck, Harper, they squeezed down when you said that— Fuck!") Their combined effort never fail to leave you completely fucked out.
There's also something fascinating about how, sometimes, an argument and all their anger can suddenly transform into lust. They're screaming at each other one moment and, then, one of them grabs the other by the front of their clothes and pulls them into a kiss that is more teeth than lips. You're a total pervert, and probably a bit of a freak, for enjoying watching them go at each other like feral cats, but there's something about the desperation of it all that snags your gaze and refuses to let it go.
Harper will leave fiery red scratches up and down his arms and back, perhaps ruining one of your pieces of clothing in the process, while Dirk leaves a row of bites down Harper's neck. It's always fast and violent and never boring. When they're done, Harper, with kiss-swollen lips usually just takes one look at you and laughs, directing Dirk to 'help you' so you don't feel so left out. As soon as it's all over, you're the one soothing their scratches and too-deep bites, ignoring Harper's sighs about how she 'wishes it would scar'.
Even when you're just calmly holding each other though, their hold is always too tight. Their nails, so to speak, dig into your flesh and leave scratches with every move you make— But no one, even before you left the house, had ever wanted you this bad. Dirk was right. You should've ran. You've fallen in the exact same trap as him after all.
Honestly it has been such a long, long time since I have touched DOL but I do dearly miss it, which is fun because it's such a messed up game lmfao SO i'm planning to reupload all the works that I had (which is not a lot) here and finish writing stuff I have lmfaoaoa im slowly trying to get back to DOL... - harper content bc my pc doesn't want to get ill enough to meet him and i miss my nasty perv doctor
ೃ⁀➷ TW/CW: DARK CONTENT, 18+ (MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DON’T INTERACT), Bad English, Male Harper (he/him pronouns), Yandere-ish?, Obsession, Mention of Remy, Gender Neutral Reader (no use of pronouns or body parts), Implied Cow Reader, Mention of Torture&Kidnapping, let me know if I need to add more TW/Tags ♡ My blog contains dark content, be careful when interacting/following! Please if you like my work don't forget to reblog/interact with me♡ Minors, ageless, blank blogs, and silent readers will get blocked if interact with me.
You somehow manage to escape Remy's grasp, which makes him so angry and sad. You are his favorite subject, his beloved little test that he could do anything to.
But it's not like he could search for you in the wide open.
Harper has too much to do, unfortunately, and for sure you are going to be back. Maybe not with Remy, unless you are that dumb to get kidnapped again, but maybe in the hospital or directly in the asylum. That would be for the best (for him of course) since he has much more control here compared to the farm or the hospital, but he can always lie his way to it anyway. As long as he has you Harper can have his fun.
But you don't appear in front of him. Not even once.
You like playing hard to get? But Harper has no fucking time for that. And his patience is running incredibly thin, he knows that you need his help with mental health, he has seen it when you were on the farm, so why aren't you here already. Do you manage to play safe? In this city? Impossible. If he has to force you to come at him, he will.
Harper has already paid people, only to know if you come back safely and you were in town, but what does stop him to pay for hurting you? Nothing, that's it. He will pay people to hurt you, to traumatize you, he doesn't really care what they do to you, as long as you come back to him. He will make you feel better anyway for free, isn't he a good man?
This work belongs to @/alj0saray, do not repost, translate, copy, rewrite, use for AI or share on TikTok without my permission. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged♡ MDNI banners @/cafekitsune (found here) Red rose divider @/uzmacchiato (found here) Warnings banner me!⸜(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)⸝
tags/warnings: dubcon, medical kink, inspection kink, fingering, reader has a pussy but no explicit gender, gross medical malpractice
Trips to the doctor always filled you with trepidation, and they always had. Now, with Harper as your doctor, these feelings only worsened. You were sat on the uncomfortable paper of the examination bed, feet swinging awkwardly as you tugged the gown to cover more of your thighs. You felt so exposed, with nothing on underneath the gown, as your doctor requested. Only your socks were offering some semblance of modesty.
Your doctor had you see him weekly, which would be fine, only he insisted on doing a full examination every time. You weren’t sure why you always needed a physical. Harper said it was necessary for your…health.
“And how have you been sleeping lately?” He asked from his seat, scribbling on his notepad.
“Fine,” was your short response. It didn’t faze Harper, though. He simply nodded. Like he always did.
“Mhm,” Harper replied. “And your sexual activity?”
Your fingers clenched the hem of your gown, knuckles turning white. “...same as always.”
“I see,” all you could hear was the scritch of pencil on paper. “A little more detail, please. Activity with penises or vaginas?”
Now, you were chewing on your lip. “...both.”
“Oral, penetrative...?”
“Both.”
“And are you using protection?”
Images of your recent sexual encounters - consensual and not - flashed through your mind. “Um…sometimes.”
“I see.” A few more scratches and Harper set the notepad down, looking at you. “Well, you should know that isn’t very safe. I’ll now need to conduct a physical examination. Please lay back and put your feet in the stirrups.”
You had done this so many times by now, the motions were like riding a bike. Did you even have the right to feel embarrassed with your hole exposed like this? Was there a point to feeling bad?
Harper snapped on his latex gloves and moved closer to you, shining a light into your crotch. He hiked the hospital gown up towards your waist and gently placed his hands on your hips, making mildly approving noises as he moved further down your legs.
“Ah,” now he was looking directly into your cunt. “It doesn’t look inflamed or anything, which is good. I need a closer look, though.”
The same old song and dance, every week. Why did he keep up this pretense? Then again, why did you go along with it? Something shameful burned in your chest. Something that you kept pushed down, out of sight. You liked it.
No, no way. You shook your head. “Doctor, I don’t see why you need to…”
“You are my patient, and I am a doctor. It is my duty to ensure you are in peak condition,” Harper said smoothly, his hands creeping closer to your pussy, which unfortunately, was starting to feel wet. “And you just indicated you are having unsafe sex. A closeup exam will show if you have contracted any sort of STIs or other diseases.”
You weren’t entirely sure that was how it actually worked, but there was no point in saying anything. What would you do? Run out of the office, half-naked? You had heard rumors of places they sent patients who acted out, and they did not sound pleasant. The mere thought made you shiver. So, complacency it was again.
One gloved finger slid into your cunt as heat coiled in your belly. Harper’s fingers were slim and long. He hummed a tuneless song as the finger moved around inside, curling against your gummy walls. The other hand came to rest on top of your lower stomach. “Everything feels normal so far,” he said. But you knew the doctor was far from done.
Another finger slipped in and you let out a small gasp as his knuckles brushed against your g-spot. “I see that sexual pleasure is still normal as well,” Harper said with a light chuckle. “No need to feel embarrassed. This is, of course, completely normal.”
The pair of fingers slowly started to pump in and out, all under the guise of an examination. You whimpered softly, your body squirming subconsciously as it sought out more friction.
“Please try to stay still, or it could mess with my process,” Harper said. The hand on your belly dipped down to tweak your clit, eliciting another gasp from you. “Your clitoris seems normal, too.”
His fingers continued to stroke your insides as his other hand slowly rubbed your bundle of nerves. “I think,” you took in a sharp breath, trying to cover up a moan threatening to spill. “I think you’ve gotten your answer by now.”
“Please don’t interrupt.” You knew that was all you would get out of him.
Both of his hands were making quick work of you, and Harper added a third finger. “Very good,” he said appraisingly. “See how well you took that? Very nice elasticity. That said, you may want to work on strengthening your pelvic floor. We can practice some kegel exercises after this.”
“Ngh–okay,” you managed to squeak out. The consistent pumping of his three fingers combined with the circular rubbing of your clit had you nearing your limit.
“I can feel your walls tightening around my fingers now. I see you are close to climax. This is good, I’m glad to see your functions are working as they should,” Harper kept up his tempo, trying to draw that orgasm out of you.
And no matter how you tried to hold it back, it burst forth from you, just as it did every week with Harper. A low moan came from your lips as it hit you, and stars danced before your eyes. You also felt a gush from your aching cunt as it clenched around those latex fingers.
“Wonderful!” Harper said with a smile, drawing back and disposing of his gloves. “And look at that. Ejaculate.”
You looked down to see a large wet patch on that crinkly exam paper. No fucking way. You squirted on the doctor? Now, your cheeks truly were burning with shame.
“Ah, please don’t feel embarrassed!” Harper was entirely normal, standing up and heading over to his notepad. “It’s completely, totally normal. A perfect response to sexual stimulation. And you did excellent work. It seems like your body is in excellent shape.”
Harper offered you a grin, which seemed kind, but a hungry, predatory look lingered in his eyes. “Same time next week?”
