CHEFRRY CHECK-IN (Patreon)

HIIIIIII :D In the google forms, a lot of people wanted more chefrry check ins and YOU KNOW IM ALWAYS DOWN!!!! SO HERE IT IS!! IT'S FILTHY :D

(2.2k+ words)

i.

“Hello?. . . .Yeah, I can talk.” 

It really isn’t that hard to shock Y/N; most days, she finds something surprising. The prices at the grocery store, whether it’s a deal or it’s overpriced, her brows raise, and her mouth falls open slightly. If anyone at work tells her they have a more exotic pet rather than just a dog or a cat, like a lizard of some kind or a random, very peculiar rodent, her eyes widen, and she asks to know more. When Niall doesn’t bring up omegaverse when someone mentions someone else's scent, Y/N stares at him, waiting, head tilted, confused and alarmed when he doesn’t utter a word about it. That’s probably the most shocking thing that happened to her this week, but it’s one of many instances where Y/N finds herself surprised. 

Despite all of that, though, nothing has Y/N’s mouth on the floor the way it is right now. How else was she supposed to react to Harry answering the phone while he was inside of her? One of her ankles was hooked over his shoulder, keeping her spread open, and his hand had felt big and insistent on her hip. Just before his phone rang, he’d been telling her what a good puppy she was, how good she felt inside, and promised to fuck her until all she had left was her ‘dumb puppy brain’. Y/N had already felt like she’d switched over to her dumb puppy brain already, all things considered, but he seemed like she could delve further into it. He even had her collar around her neck, pretty and jeweled, Harry’s name carved into the front. 

Then his phone started ringing on the bedside table. Harry kept up his pace at first, but on the third and fourth ring, he slowed down. Not to a stop – not even closer – it was just a steady, even pace that still made the inside of her head ring. Y/N watched with a watery, dazed gaze as Harry looked over, reached for the phone, hit the answer button, and before she could even register that he did that and didn’t end the call, he pressed it to his ear. Y/N’s mouth was wide open for two reasons. One being the obvious – he’s inside of her, throbbing, the tip of his dick nudging against her cervix with each bottom out. Y/N feels stretched wide and full, which is the best feeling for her, especially with Harry. The second being that he just answered the fucking phone while he was balls deep inside of her. What the hell? Was he going to talk to them while he was fucking her? Who was even on the phone? 

Y/N thinks it must be pretty important, whoever it was, or at least the subject matter might be. And then Harry goes on to say, “No, it is important to have him eat at our restaurant and enjoy it – I don’t give a fuck where he’s photographed or who he’s with.” And Y/N is lost, but he uses his free hand to stroke down her belly, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Her belly twitches and he smiles softly at her, which is the only indication that he’s even paying attention to her, actually. He’s still moving his hips, though, almost absently, as his thumb trails down her belly to her slit. The pad of it meets her swollen clit – the one he’d just been sucking on teasingly, flicking his tongue over lightly until she was twitching her hips toward his mouth and whining. It’s still slick from his spit and wet from her own arousal and his precum that he’d spread between her slit with his tip.

 She squeezes around him with the additional attention and his hips buck forward, his hips jerking harder into her. 

“Ah – yeah, well, it isn’t about appearances for me. The more steak we put on that, the more annoying he’ll be.” 

There is some hotshot critic who’s supposed to come to Harry’s restaurant for dinner soon, and Y/N guesses that’s who he’s speaking about. Why he had to speak about him right now, Y/N couldn’t tell you, but her heart is racing at the thought of someone being on the phone. The fact that Harry answered, like it was any other day and he wasn’t balls-deep inside of her, was doing something for her too. Like she really was just his little pet that he was playing with – satiating his silly, dumb cock drunk puppy because she needed it, not because he did. It makes her head swim even further, stuffing her further into this headspace that she finds herself in with him, when he really leans into the puppy play. When he drags on her collar and tells her to whimper and bark for him. When he fucks her dumb, then kisses her sweet and pets her hair. 

His finger lulls leisurely around her clit, slow and sweet, but keeps making her squeeze around him, pulsing. Y/N feels herself getting wetter; the sound of it is making her feel shy. The whole thing is making her feel shy, actually; though she knew whoever was on the other end wasn’t able to hear her, it still felt like she was on display. She covered her face with her hands and bit on her lip to muffle a whine. 

“Hm? Oh, sorry about that,” he leaned forward and hooked his hand around her wrists, pulling them away from her face. He’s got the phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder for a second until he can wiggle her away, “My puppy is just making some noise.” 

She squeezes hard at that. Enough that his hips stutter and he has to close his eyes for a second, like he’s steeling himself. Y/N loves when he refers to her like she’s actually a puppy. It tickles something good and deep in her brain. Harry goes back to holding the phone and keeps circling her clit, “Yeah, she just wants a treat, is all. What were you saying?” 

Y/N cums like that. From Harry looping his thumb around her clit and keeping his hips moving. She turns her face into the pillow and muffles her sounds, because even in her dumb puppy brain she knows when to be quiet. Especially when Harry could tell she was about to cum, sped up his hips and held a finger to his lips. Y/N was good at listening because she was a good girl, at the end of the day. The best girl, some would suggest. 

Her toes curl hard, and her leg that isn’t thrown over his shoulder squeezes tightly around his sides like she was trying to trap him against her. It’s good – she can hear herself getting wetter, and can’t help but roll up to meet his thrusts the best she can. She’s twitching all over, bucking into him and then tugging away when the sensitivity feels like too much, only to curl back toward him and the feeling when it got good again. 

“I don’t know, but you’ll need to have something figured out by Wednesday,” Harry replies. “Message me when you’ve contacted his manager.” 

Harry hangs up the phone, tosses it into the sheets, then leans in and smears his lips over her mouth, “God, you did such a good job for me,” he murmurs between kisses, and strokes of their tongues together, “My sweet little puppy, you even came quietly. Such a good girl.” 

Y/N’s lips feel kind of useless against his; slick with spit and trying to keep up. It tastes good – he always tastes good, and she loves kissing, but she feels like her mind is made of marshmallow and feathers. He slides out of her, taps his cock against her swollen pussy twice, and then works a hand around his own cock. The wet, sloppy noise of it makes her clench around nothing, and as always — when Harry pulls out the arousal that he’d been plugging up inside of her always trickles out. He lets her leg fall off his arm, and it falls against the bed because she’s all weak-limbed and mellow. 

She opens her mouth, tongue out, and starts whining again. Harry pulls back a little to look at her, “Hm? What does my puppy want?” He inquires, and Y/N fights for the words she wants to say, but they feel impossible right now. 

“Mouth,” is what she settles on, “Please, please.” And she looks down between them at where his hand is moving over his cock, and Harry understands almost immediately. He sits up, lifts his knee to straddle her body before working his way up to hover over her chest so he’s closer to her face. 

“Yeah, I’ll fill up your mouth, baby,” he murmurs, “That’s the treat you wanted, hm? For being so good?” 

Y/N’s hands meet his thighs, gripping onto the thick muscle of them. They feel good under her fingers, where she squeezes and digs the tips in like she’s holding him still, though he’s making no noticeable movements to leave his position. It helps ground her, though, the feel of his warm skin and the way his muscles tense as he gets closer. Y/N wants to look at his cock, but she doesn’t want to be cross-eyed either, so she looks up at him instead. 

When they make eye contact, Harry rests the tip on her tongue and starts to cum. Y/N moans, matching Harry’s long, drawn-out groan. His belly clenches and unclenches just like his thighs, and he throbs hard against her tongue, like he was just as worked up as she was. Y/N tries to be good about keeping her mouth open but eventually gets too excited and starts suckling around the tip of it, drawing more cum out, letting her eyes flutter shut while she swallows it down greedily in her belly. 

Y/N would have been content to stay there and mouth at his cock all night. She liked to warm him, especially when he’d stroke her hair back behind her ear and put on something she’d been wanting him to watch on the telly. It feels like the best way to wind down sometimes, especially when she’s eaten a good meal and is ready to relax and sleep. 

But alas, Harry lets himself slip out of her mouth, softened and sensitive. Y/N opens her eyes when his hand cradles her cheek, stroking it with his thumb, “Are you still with me, Sweetheart? Do you want a bath?” 

“Mhm,” she hums but makes no move to get up. Harry chuckles, sliding his hands down her shoulders, over her arms, looping his fingers around her wrist and pulling her up carefully. She groans, a little disgruntled, but Harry just shushes her. “I want the rose-scented bubbles,” she tells him, “Please.” 

“Of course,” he leads them to the bathroom and plops her down on the toilet while he works on getting the tub running. Y/N wasn’t so deep in her head that she couldn’t laugh at his dick swinging around while he moved about the bathroom, and he rolled his eyes at her, but smiled after because, lately, he can’t not look endeared. The tub fills up quickly because it always does at his place. Hazelnut toddles in like she always does when the water is running, and sits in the corner of the bathroom farthest away from it, but seems to want to keep an eye on the situation. It is a little humbling to be stared at post-puppy-play by your cat. Y/N wonders how she’s going to tell her that, apparently, she gives more of an overexcited puppy, ready to wee themselves, instead of a sexy, smooth feline. 

Harry’s tub is big enough for both of them to sink into, so they do. He gets in first so that he can lean against the back wall, and when Y/N sinks in, he immediately pulls her to his body. Y/N flopped back against him, sighing while his arms came to wrap around her. 

“Was that okay?” He inquired, his wet hands dragging water and bubbles up her forearm. “Hm? Me being on the phone? You didn’t say our word, so I figured it was fine, but I wanted to make sure.” 

Harry was always so sweet and thoughtful. Y/N came so hard she thinks she has a cramp in her toe, but of course Harry just wants to double-check and make sure that she liked it. 

“Was really good,” she tells him, nodding, “Do you like that? When people could find out we’re fucking?” 

“Mm, every now and then I enjoy the thought,” he admits, “But to be honest with you, I don’t know if I’d ever actually want to be caught. Don’t want anyone thinking about you like that, all wet and needy.” He dips his face into her neck, “Thought about it a couple of times, though. I’ve done it in the past – had someone watch.” 

Y/N hums softly, “Really? You’re kind of a. . .y’know – Niall would call you a whore.” 

He bites her neck, and Y/N jumps, giggling.

“Enough.”