* THIS STORY CONTAINS MATURE & EXPLICIT CONTENT*
Please refer to the list of possible triggers and kinks.
Harry Styles. Twenty-Five. Green eyes. One hundred and ninety-six pounds. Six foot even or one hundred and eighty-seven centimetres. Born to...
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Warning: This chapter mentions the use of drugs. If you're a recovering addict of pills, please refrain from reading this chapter. I hope you all have a lovely day and enjoy!
The second I pushed the door open I was met with the stench of strong weed, which shouldn't come as a surprise. Harry was sat on the bed this time, one hand behind him to hold himself up while the other one was lazily bringing the joint up to his lips.
"Nice of you to finally join me,"
His voice seemed to have gotten deeper since I last saw him. After a few brief moments of having a staring contest, I finally stepped into the room and pushed the door shut behind me, making sure to lock it as well, upon hearing the click, I let my hand fall from the doorknob.
"Is this our little meeting place now?" I questioned in a soft voice, stepping up onto the platform right as the song that I had chosen started up. It was the pop-punk version of lollipop by framing Hanley.
"I wanna lick the wrapper.."
I pressed my back right up against the cold metal of the pole, sliding down at an excruciatingly slow pace as I kept my eyes locked on his, his eyes following my every move. His hand that was holding the joint came to hover over the astray, putting out what was left of the joint before he stood up from the end of the bed.
He fixed his cuff links on the sleeves of his blazer, keeping the buttons on his semi-sheer floral top undone before taking long strides until he finally stood directly in front of me as I sunk down the pole.
His hand came down to wrap around my neck, pressing two of his fingers directly against my pulse point which had my head lulling to the side. He then pulled me upwards by my neck, chewing viciously at a piece of gum before he leaned his head to the side a bit and spit it onto the floor. Which—gross. He didn't have the decency to at least spit it into the bin? Or even spit it in my mouth?
He moved his hand from my neck to my jaw, holding it in a manner that would for sure leave bruises before he forced me to turn around and pulled me flush up against him, tilting my head back and forcing my mouth open.
"Open wide, baby."
The pet name sent shivers down the length of my spine as I obeyed, parting my lips and sticking my tongue out as he placed a little pretty coloured pill on my tongue. I was no stranger to ecstasy at this point. All of the girls took it before a show. It made me feel like I existed on a completely different plane of existence. I was coexisting in a way and everything was amplified.
He then picked up the bottle of Don Julio, taking a big swig that had to be at least three shots in one, holding it in his mouth as the song played in the background before he set the bottle back down. He leaned over, making sure my jaw was still open before he spits the tequila into my mouth and released my jaw so that I could swallow.
