I Hate You (Larry Stylinson MPREG)

Chapter 17: What are your kinks?

⚠️WARNING⚠️: the start of some smut

"I still have more things to ask you," I said when he pulled away from the kiss.

"Ask and maybe I'll answer," he shrugged.

"Oh you better answer me, or else," I threatened.

"Or else what? You're gonna punch me with your little tiny fist?" He snorted.

"No I was gonna say or else I'll never suck your dick," I said smugly.

"That's fine, then I just won't ever eat your ass," he smirked.

"You would do that?!" I choked.

"Fuck yes, I'd love to put my tongue in your tight little hole," he smirked then licked his lips.

"Harry stop I'm trying to have a serious conversation!" I blushed.

"Okay fine, talk," he said with an amused look.

"So, how many people have you fucked on this bed?" I asked in a serious tone.

"Louis what the fuck?" Harry chortled.

"I'm serious Harold answer the question!"

"I don't know, I don't have enough fingers to count," he shrugged.

"Well I'm not having sex with you on this bed until you get a new mattress," I said sternly and crossing my arms.

"What? Why?" He chuckles.

"This mattress is already broken in and I wanna break in a new one," I pout.

"Ugh, fine anything for you my princess," He said taking my right hand in his and kissing the back of it making me giggle.

"I have one last thing to ask," I said as I got up off the bed and walked over to his dresser that has the picture of a younger him and an older man in a frame covered in dust. There is an old watch placed in front of the picture so I pick it up and wipe the dust off of the glass so I can exam it.

"My dead dad wore that, isn't that creepy as fuck," I snapped my head up to look at Harry when he spoke. I quickly put the watch back in its place on the dresser because the way he said that was actually creepy as fuck. He said it expressionless as if he has no soul, no heart or care in the world.

"Who's this in the picture with baby Harry?" I smiled fondly at the little Harry in the photo.

"My dead father and don't say I'm sorry. I hate when people say that like what are you sorry for you didn't even know him," he said with annoyance.

"I wasn't going to say that...I was actually going to ask what color was his casket?" I giggle.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you," he said with a devilish smile then swiftly strides over to me, wraps one arm around my waist pulling my body into his and deeply kisses me.

"So, what color was it?" I said when we pulled apart.

"Brown," he said.

"That's basic as hell. I want mine and my tombstone to be pastel pink," I said.

"I'll make sure that happens when I kill you," he says with an evil look.

"Thank you, you're such a gentleman," I fake swoon.

"Only for you baby," he said then pecked my lips.

"So, how'd he die?" I ask timidly.

"He overdosed on heroine. He was a total dick but he was rich," he said putting emphasis on the word 'but.'