#Harry styles Fan Fiction

[cupid-styles]

brat (sex columnist!harry x best friend!y/n)

in which y/n is best friends with harry, a sex columnist, who needs a little help answering a reader's question.

word count: 3k

content warnings: SMUT!!!! (mean dom/bratty sub dynamic, dirty talk, pussy spanking, paddling, sir kink, degradation, slight edging, fingering)

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

“You’re out of your mind.”

“I’m really not.”

“No, but you are.”

“It would be for work and work only—”

“I don’t care.”

Harry sighs as he lifts a hand to run it through his curly hair. The noisy puff of air is filled with unsaid annoyance and Y/N tries her best not to roll her eyes at her best friend’s stubbornness, instead focusing on toying with the bracelet around her wrist. Instead of replying, he quickly runs his fingertips over the trackpad on his laptop so it glows back to life. 

“Can you at least hear me out?” he asks, his tone teetering on a polite plea, “You know writing about sex is my job. How am I supposed to help this person out when I can’t even offer a fair answer?”

Y/N crosses her arms and shrugs and Harry wishes he could reach across the couch and push them to her sides. 

“What makes you think I have any experience being a sub, anyway?” she fires back, keeping her eyes glued on the TV in front of them.

They're currently binging the newest season of The Bachelor, but Harry was more so using the dialogue and Y/N’s periodic gasps as background noise. For the past year or so, he’s held down a job at an online publication as a sex columnist. He loves it — people write in anonymously, asking him questions about everything from premature ejaculation to open relationships. Under the pen name H.E. Bell, he gets paid to write lengthy, thoughtful responses, helping his readers with approaching whatever sexual issue they’re facing. And this week, his editor really wants him to address a particular question about a dominant and submissive relationship. 

The thing is, though, is the letter comes from a sub. And Harry’s a dom. 

A mean one, at that.

So while Y/N’s diving into a pint of her favorite flavor of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream (Phish Food, obviously), and Harry’s trying his best — and miserably failing — to place himself in the shoes of his submissive reader, he knows what he has to do.

“I hate to tell you, but you scream submissive,” Harry replies, pushing his laptop off of the couch and onto the coffee table. “Don’t even try to deny it. Just… just hear me out. Please. My deadline’s tomorrow afternoon.”

Y/N lets out an irritated huff as she grabs the TV remote and presses pause. Silently, she sits back against the couch, facing her best friend, and shoots him a displeased expression; a wordless allowance to speak. 

“I’m a dom and I’ve literally always been that way. You’re a sub, through-and-through. This person is asking about situations pertaining to experience as a submissive, and I can’t really provide them with the advice that they’re looking for since I’ve never been in that headspace.”

Y/N shrugs carelessly. She’s unbothered by his frank analysis of her subordinate behavior — it’s not exactly surprising that Harry, the sex columnist, is able to identify a sub, dom, or switch from 10 miles away. But that doesn’t mean she has to get dragged into his research, or whatever the hell he was trying to play it off as.

“Why don’t you just skip the question, then?” Y/N asks. “If you don’t have the right resources to offer an answer—”

“My editor thinks it’ll bring in a lot of page views,” he says, his throat bobbing with a swallow. His eyebrows draw together some, creating a small worried wrinkle between them. “Listen, I’ll fuck off if you’re totally uncomfortable with helping me, but you’re my best friend and I don’t know who else I could ask with this short of a timeframe.”

She sighs and brings her knees up to her chest. 

“Fine. Read me the question.”

A grin breaks out on Harry’s face as he grabs his laptop. He taps on the trackpad a few times as he brings the email up on the screen, eyes scanning over his bright inbox. 

“Okay, here’s what they said,” he clears his throat and Y/N really does roll her eyes this time, “Dear H.E.— I’ve been in a sexual relationship with my dominant for three months. Up until now, we’ve clicked really well. The chemistry is great and we always mesh really well both during scenes and aftercare. But lately, I’m worried I’ve been a little too bratty. For context, I’m a bratty sub with an attitude, but my dom knew that going into this. I fear that they’ll grow tired of my nonsense and insistent disobedience, but when I’m in my subspace or engaging in a scene with them, it’s hard for me to pull away from it. What should I do? Do you have any advice for what I can do as a sub to best help my dom?”

Y/N’s plucking at her bottom lip as Harry glances up from his computer. Blinking, she thinks for a moment before crafting a response.

“Well, it sounds like the sub needs to communicate their feelings to their dom. There seems to be a lot of insecurity.” she says. He hums, nodding his head as he types a few words on his keyboard. 

“Yeah, that’s true,” he murmurs, “They said it’s hard for them not to be in that bratty headspace, though.”

She shrugs, “I mean, if you’re a bratty sub, you’re a bratty sub. That’s just who you are.”

“Do you think there are any punishments that would work, then?”

“You’re the dom, shouldn’t you be able to answer that question?”

“I guess,” he replies, running his palm over the short bit of facial hair that’s grown on his chin in the past few days. “Spanking, edging, overstimulation, types of shibari, I guess…”

Y/N’s thighs squeeze involuntarily.

“...I just don’t know what works best.” he finishes his sentence, halting the tapping of his fingertips over the keyboard. “What do you think?”

She forces a swallow to coat her dry throat. “It depends.” she pushes out.

“Well, what works for you?”

She thinks for a moment. It’s been a minute since she’s been in a proper dominant/submissive dynamic — the last few times she’s had sex have all been one night stands and quick flings, all of which don’t allow enough time to learn about hard limits, punishments, and safe words. Her brain has to float back to a year ago, when she was sleeping with Reese, a soft dom who tried his best to tame her bratty nature but came back empty every time. He was good — the sex was good, but she wanted — no, needed — more.

“I don’t think I’ve ever really had a dominant… achieve that, I guess,” she mumbles thoughtfully. “I mean, I know what I like, as far as punishments go. But it’s not really about what the submissive likes, is it?”

“No,” Harry agrees. He hums as he opens up a second tab and she watches as he types the words “punishments for submissives” into the search engine. She sniffles and attempts to disregard the way her core instantly clenches. 

He’s silent as he reads through a few lists, occasionally jotting down some notes into his Google doc. Y/N swallows noisily when he glances back up at her, this time prepared with an apparent list of proposed consequences. 

“Okay, can you just tell me which ones you think most submissives would be fine with?”

She nods.

“Withgoing underwear in public?”

“Mhm.”

“Pussy spanking?”

“Yeah.”

“Nipple wax play?”

“Depends on the sub’s pain tolerance, but um… yeah.”

“Paddling?”

“I actually haven’t done that one before.”

Harry’s eyebrows raise. 

“No?”

She shakes her head. “None of my doms have ever had one.”

“Doesn’t sound like they were proper doms, then.”

“They’ve all been on the softer side,” Y/N explains shyly. “But… yeah. I guess it’s always something I’ve wanted to try.”

“Is it?” 

She can tell by the way his eyes have darkened, that there’s something wicked stirring in that brain of his. She knows she can put a stop to this now if she wants — he’s her best friend and he wouldn’t care if she ended the conversation here and now. 

But she doesn’t.

Not for a second.

So instead she nods. And she’s completely unsurprised by the next sentence that falls from his lips.

“Do you want to try it now?”

By now, Y/N’s brain is all fuzzy and melty, so she doesn’t even think before she’s nodding her head eagerly. Harry chuckles and closes his laptop, shuffling onto his knees to lean forward and pluck at her bottom lip. A smirk curves at his mouth as she leans into his touch.

“Getting quite desperate on me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, cradling her cheek into his palm. “Get naked for me then and I’ll go get the paddle. No touching while I’m gone.”

Her stomach flips at the domineering tone in his voice. All too quickly, they’ve fallen into their most intimate roles, and Harry’s carrying himself to his bedroom as Y/N continues sitting there, all gooey-eyed and foggy. And maybe he should have expected it when he returns back to the living room a few moments later to see her sprawled out across the length of the couch, her bralette and underwear still on with her fingers tucked beneath the waistband of the fabric.

“Kitten,” Harry all but growls, making Y/N shiver at the pet name, “Are you already disobeying me?”

She hums as she watches him through half-lidded eyes, soft fingertips petting at her pearled clit. His eyes glimpse down at the tented material and he instantly sets the dark red paddle down on the carpeted floor, kneeling between her legs.

“What’s your color?” he breathes, locking a hand around her ankle. Her pussy quivers just from the simple grasp.

“Green,” she answers, “I’ll tell you if anything changes. Safe word is licorice.”

Harry nods, allowing his large hands to float up her legs. They reach the gusset of her sodden underwear and he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, snapping the fabric against her swollen pussy.

“Take your hand out of your panties now and I won’t smack your pussy until she’s raw.”

Y/N doesn’t move. In fact, he thinks her circling fingers only quicken.

“I’ll give you one last warning,” he grits out, squeezing the flesh of her thighs, “I’m not a nice dominant. You won’t be able to walk if you keep going against me.”

But of course, her hand stays glued to the bundle of nerves. Instead, she breathes out a sultry response: “Think I could cum like this, having you watch me.”

In a moment, her cotton underwear is being ripped from her body and thrown aside. He’s swift in his movements as he collects her wrists in his palm, squeezing them harshly and throwing them up, high above her body. She gasps, noisy and wet.

“I don’t fuck around with brats like you for a reason.” 

The first spank he issues to her puffy pussy is quick and fleeting, hardly offering a lick of pain. He’s eager to find where her pain threshold lies; if she’s all talk or if she can take the full force of his large palm. By the time he lands the sixth one, her skin now reddening beneath his smacks, he thinks he’s found it and he admits, he’s relatively impressed. 

“Aw, did that one hurt?” Harry mocks, watching as her face twists in an expression of discomfort. “That’s because punishments are meant to be mean. You’re not supposed to enjoy them, little brat. You’ve had it too easy, hm?”

“H-haven’t,” she stutters out, wincing as he delivers a seventh, “I’m good, sir, I swear—”

“Oh, bull-fuckin’-shit,” he retorts. “You’re a silly little brat is what you are.”

“‘m not—”

Smack—

“You are.”

She whines until he reaches the tenth one. She’s a wiggly mess of sniffles and whimpers and he shushes her, brushing a thumb over her clit. She gasps lowly and he laughs.

“On your belly.”

This time, Y/N doesn’t defy him and Harry is admittedly surprised. She buries her face in the throw pillow and he rolls his eyes at the theatrics. Before picking the paddle up off the floor, his blunt fingertips scratch at her scalp, gentle and kind as they trail down to the nape of her neck. 

“What’s your color, kitten?” he asks softly, rubbing a docile palm over her bare ass.

“Green, sir.”

“Do you still want to try the paddle?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay,” he murmurs, “We’ll start with five and then see where you’re at. You know what to say if you want me to stop, right?”

“Red or licorice, sir.”

“Good girl.”

Since it’s her first time, he decides to ease her into it. He uses only a smidgen of his strength to smack the paddle against the thick of her cheek, watching as the wood ricochets. Her skin jiggles in response and he swallows, noting the way her nails already dig into the couch.

The second and third are just as light but he adds a bit more pressure to the fourth and fifth. When he’s finished, he rubs over the flush skin, slow and intentional.

“How was that?” he asks. 

“Good,” she replies, her voice slightly muffled from the pillow, “I can take more.”

A hand quickly finds its way to the back of her neck and her eyes instantly widen. He shifts her head, smushing her cheek into the soft fabric so her voice is no longer dulled. 

“Need to hear you loud and clear,” Harry says. “And now you’ll count for me.”

When the oak paddle makes contact with her ass for the sixth time, she grits her teeth but still calls out the number. She follows suit for the next five and, while it’s painful and harsh in the most uncomfortable of ways, she’d be lying if she said her skin didn’t feel like it was on fire. She’s burning for him, feeling her arousal leak down between the apex of her thighs with every last spank. 

“Good job, kitten,” Harry announces, dropping the paddle at the end of the set. “You did good, hm? Did the bratty girl learn her lesson?”

Y/N’s bottom lip juts out in a pout when his soft palms begin to soothe her aching bum. He instantly takes notice, wrinkling his eyebrows in confusion. 

“Can’t give you anymore tonight, kitten. It was only your first time.”

Instead of replying, she simply shakes her head.

“Use your words. I’m not a mindreader, brat.”

Swallowing, she lifts her head up slightly, only enough to give her a peek of Harry’s concerned expression. 

“W-wanna cum,” she mumbles, blinking at him, “Will you make me cum, sir?”

And instead of immediately getting what she wants, Harry does the unthinkable.

He rolls his eyes.

“You act like a slutty brat all night, begging to get paddled, and now you want me to make you cum?” 

She nods, ashamed and embarrassed.

“What the fuck makes you think you deserve that?”

“I-I took my spankings and paddlings without complaining. And I didn’t disobey you a-after that.”

“But you did defy me to begin with, didn’t you?” he pushes, weaving his hand into the hair at the back of her head. His fist tightens and he lifts her head so her neck cranes back. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And now you want to cum.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But not only do you want to cum— you want me to make you cum.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fine then,” he decides, sitting down and leaning back against the couch cushions. “Come here. Straddle me.”

She forces herself onto her knees and ignores the way her ass and pussy both sting from her punishments. Right now, all she can focus on is her buzzing clit and its need for attention. 

She does as she’s told and splits her thighs to fit his own legs between them. Almost instantly, he cups a hand beneath her mouth and glares at her expectantly. 

“Spit, brat. Are you dumb?”

She shakes her head, allowing saliva to pool behind her lips before spitting it into his palm. With his eyes staring into hers, he lowers his spit-slick hand down to her mound and pushes a finger inside of her. Immediately, she clenches around it, her eyes threatening to flutter shut.

“Keep them open,” he instructs, “Jesus, your cunt is already milking me.”

She swallows and forces herself to maintain eye contact with the man sitting before her. He’s merciless in his ministrations, especially when he nestles a second, then a third finger and curls them up to her most sensitive spot. Her hands form tight fists as she grinds against his hand, moaning loudly when his thumb reaches her clit. 

“What a desperate little pussy,” he murmurs, speeding up the tight circles over the swollen bundle of nerves, “You like getting stretched out, don’t you? Say it.”

“I-I love when you stretch me out, sir.”

“Of course you do,” he smirks viciously, “Is your cunt gonna cum like this?”

“Y-yes, sir—”

“Ask for permission first, kitty.”

“Please sir, can I cum? P-please?”

She’s whimpery and mewling as she bounces helplessly on his fingers, the ribbon in her lower stomach threatening to unravel at any given moment. He hums, stilling the digits inside of her.

“Hold it.”

“Sir—”

“Hold it, brat.”

Her pussy clenches around him but she does. She restrains herself until he finally allows the ribbon to come undone, a slew of whines and curses sounding from her plush lips as she does.

It feels like it goes on forever but when the pleasure finally ceases, she collapses into his chest. Harry gently pulls his fingers from her center and wraps an arm around her waist, giving it a gentle, loving squeeze. 

He lets her stay like that for a bit and, maybe selfishly, he enjoys having her limp, exhausted body so close to his. 

“Gotta clean you up and rub some salve on your bum,” he finally manages out, ducking down to whisper the words in her ear. 

Tiredly, she nuzzles her head against his shoulder. “Five more minutes?”

He swallows. 

He doesn’t think she’s in her subspace, but he knows she’s sleepy and fuzzy from the mix of pain and pleasure he just instilled on her body.

And so for that, he’ll give her five more minutes.

Six, if she’s lucky.

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[justlemmeadoreyou]

2. the offer (restaurant owner!harry x chef!y/n)

(part 1 here)

summary: as you settle into the grueling routine at Haus, you find yourself seeking out any moment of praise or feedback from harry. you two develop an understanding, but it's still hard to focus when he's being...him. safe to say, it ends contrary to what you would have done if you were still the 16-year old smitten fangirl.

words: 5k

warnings: flirtations, some inappropriate behaviour, cursing

finally managed to use this pic in a fic!

***

"Keep your eyes on your own work, newbie!" Thomason's gruff yell made you jump, nearly burning your knuckles on the hot grill. 

You whipped your head around guiltily to see the grumpy head chef scowling at you from across the kitchen line. His eyes followed your sheepish gaze to where you had been not-so-secretly watching Harry chatting easily with the maître d' by the kitchen's swing doors.

Feeling your cheeks get hot, you stammered an apology to Thomason before fully focusing on the sizzling food under your tongs. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the burly man roll his eyes in disgust before barking at someone else down the line.

Ever since that surprisingly nice interaction with Harry a few nights ago, you found your wandering thoughts kept getting...preoccupied whenever you had a free moment. You hated to admit it, but some unprofessional part of you kept replaying his words praising your potential while those kaleidoscope green eyes held your gaze with seeming sincerity.

Just remembering the slight rasp of his voice was enough to give you butterflies in your stomach anytime Harry was nearby. You tried to push those feelings down with shame, scolding yourself for entertaining even a hint of inappropriate conduct.

This was your dream job, your long-awaited chance to finally prove yourself in a real professional kitchen. Getting distracted by your silly childhood crush could derail everything you'd worked so hard for.

But despite your internal pep talks, you couldn't quite shake the electrifying tingles that spread through your body whenever Harry was within fifteen feet of you. As embarrassing as it was to admit, just his nearness alone was enough to make you flustered.

You blinked hard and refocused with renewed determination on assembling the line of beautifully seared steaks. Keep your head down, you firmly reminded yourself. Don't mess this up over some silly fantasies about your boss!

As if testing your resolve, you looked up from garnishing the plates to see Harry striding through the pass, easy grin in place. He opened his mouth to speak to one of the sauce cooks but seemed to notice you watching. His lips curved a bit smugger as his jade eyes met yours from across the sizzling line.

With a subtle but obvious look up and down your body, Harry winked before turning to murmur his instructions. Your heart nearly stopped in your chest as an unexpected spike of nerves shot through you.

Was...was Harry actually flirting with you? Or had you just been so obviously drooling over him that he was amused to throw you a bone? Your face burned as you ruthlessly shook the thoughts away. 

In any case, this was no time for getting flustered - the height of Friday night dinner service was upon you. With sheer willpower, you blocked out everything except perfectly executing each plate and order. Harry Styles was now off-limits in your mind.

Until, that is, you heard Thomason's gravelly shout over the din: "Styles! We need you over here!"

You risked a quick glance to see the head chef gesturing for Harry's attention from across the kitchen. With one last considering look in your direction, Harry sauntered over to join Thomason at the expo station just as the evening's first orders began flying in.

You watched, trying to be subtle, as Harry fell effortlessly into the choreographed rush. He moved with an easy confidence as he inspected each dish, adding a sauce here, delicately plating a garnish there. His broad shoulders flexed under his snug black t-shirt as he reached over cooks, communicating with nudges and gestures.

This kitchen was clearly his domain; Harry commanded the space with the born ease of a natural leader. You stared, captivated by the smooth fluidity of his motions, the barely contained power in his lean, tall frame. It was mesmerizing watching him work like a master conductor.

Without seeming to think about it, Harry's brow would furrow in concentration whenever a plate arrived at his station. His gaze would rove over each element, those full pink lips pursing as he scrutinized the arrangement intensely. There was something utterly gripping about watching him wield that intense focus on each dish, his large hands deft and precise.

Your mouth went dry as you caught the shift of taut forearm muscles beneath tanned skin as Harry wiped an artistic streak of sauce. He gave a curt nod to Thomason, his chiseled jawline tightening in approval.

You realized this raw charisma and talent was putting on an entrancing performance for you...almost like a private show if you let your thoughts wander inappropriately. Smacking your forehead sharply, you earned a concerned side-eye from a nearby cook. Yanking yourself back to the present, you redoubled your focus on the tickets before you. No more watching Harry, not when you couldn't afford a single mistake.

Despite your best efforts, the rest of the evening flew by in a blur. You cooked and plated automatically with precision...yet couldn't stop tracking Harry in your peripheral vision. 

You saw him ducking out to handle a special order, then return with a rare olive oil for a dish alteration. You watched him joking with the bread server before snatching a buttery roll to taste the fresh bake. No matter where you turned, Harry always seemed to orbit nearby, that addictive charisma and easy grace undercutting your indifference attempts.

By the time Thomason finally called for station breakdown, your knees wobbled from the marathon stress combined with subtle Harry overload. You couldn't even feel good about handling such intensity because you were so emotionally drained.

As the crew began the process of cleaning and sanitizing, you heard a polite throat clearing behind you. You turned, already flushing, to find Harry watching you with an unreadable expression.

"Uh, hey," you croaked, shocked at your own cracking confidence around him. Harry arched one perfect brow but said nothing, seemingly waiting for you to gather yourself.

You swallowed hard before trying again. "Was...was there something you needed, Harry? I'm just about to start shutting everything down."

A slow grin spread across his lips as his eyes crinkled at the corners. For a strangely open moment, you felt like you could see straight into Harry's core - the intelligence and intensity normally hidden behind his lazy facade.

"You did brilliant tonight, you know?" he murmured, looking you up and down consideringly. "Thomason worked you hard, we all did - but you kept steady through the chaos no matter what."

Your stomach clenched with surprise at his open praise, tingling warmth blossoming outwards.

"O-oh. Um, thank you?" You winced at how flustered and uncertain you sounded.

But Harry's smile only deepened as he took an unhurried step towards you, decreasing the distance to mere inches. You could now catch the woodsy, leathery notes of his cologne taunting your senses.

"Nothing uncertain about it," he murmured, voice lowering an octave. His eyes traveled over your face before lingering on your chest. You felt unable to breathe under that smoldering gaze. "You're really getting the hang of this kitchen, aren't you?"

Despite your racing pulse, you bristled slightly at the implication. "Well, I still have a long way to go to be the cook you and Thomason are."

Those full lips curved at one corner. "True - but we both see the potential there, don't we?" Harry's voice had taken on a low, gravelly timbre that made something in your belly stir.

He took another casual step forward, crowding you back until the counter dug into your thighs. This close, you could see the gold and amber flecks in his green irises, feel the clean warmth of his body heat between you.

"You've got a long road ahead," he continued, so close now his words rasped against the side of your neck. "But I'd be lying if I said I haven't noticed how quickly you're accelerating."

The way he said that last word made you shiver despite the kitchen's heat. Harry's gaze dipped to your parted lips, then flicked back up, intense.  

"Tell me," he said in that same rumbling baritone. "Would you be open to my...personal mentorship? I could help get you up to speed even faster."

His meaning slammed into you like a shove. Was Harry...propositioning you? In an utterly inappropriate way that could get you fired?

Heart pounding, you could only gape at him, at a total loss. Part of you screamed at how wildly wrong this was, how you needed to shut it down immediately. This was your celebrity chef boss, for God's sake!

And yet, another part of you was utterly enthralled by the clear want in Harry's gaze, the visceral attraction crackling between you. All you'd need is to give a single nod and you could potentially experience pleasures you'd only fantasized about with one of the world's most desirable men...

Harry must have seen the conflict on your face because his lips twitched in a knowing smirk. Another half step forward brought your bodies almost flush, the hard planes of his chest brushing against your soft curves through his thin t-shirt. Your breath caught at the heated friction.

"Tell you what," Harry purred, his voice thick with suggestion. "Take a nice, hot shower after your shift tonight. Really think over my offer while you're alone."

With a searing look that felt X-rated, Harry reluctantly leaned back, restoring a sliver of propriety between you. Still, he held your heated stare as he reached out with one large hand and trailed his fingertips feather-light down your flushed cheek.

The barely-there caress sparked tingles everywhere. Your lips parted helplessly on a silent gasp as every nerve ending in your body felt sensitive.

A devilish glint sparked in Harry's eyes at your reaction. With a final wink, he turned to saunter off through the kitchen doors. You watched him go in a stupefied daze, unable to process anything beyond the strong throb now pulsing between your thighs.

What...had just happened? Your brain whirred trying to comprehend what precipitated that completely unprofessional come-on. Had you unconsciously encouraged Harry's advances somehow? Led him to believe you were open to that kind of...inappropriate relationship?

The mere thought of anyone perceiving you as willing to use your sexuality to get ahead made your stomach churn with shame. You had worked too damn hard to get here - you wouldn't risk tanking it all for some secret fling!

Yet a tiny part of you couldn't stop replaying Harry's scent, the timbre of his voice calling you "pet"...the unmistakable promise of illicit thrills in his heated gaze. You gave yourself a harsh internal shake, appalled that you could be so quickly led astray by such baseless temptation.  

Steadying your breathing, you forced yourself to refocus on meticulously cleaning your station. One step at a time, that was all you could think about. Allow yourself to get distracted by Harry's appeal and you were doomed.

Though it took every ounce of willpower, you managed to lose yourself in the monotony of scrubbing and sanitizing. The rhythmic motions gradually purged those unwelcome jolts of arousal, until you felt more like yourself again.

Some twisted part of you couldn't resist a bitter laugh. As if Harry Styles, world-famous millionaire, would ever seriously pursue someone like you. No, whatever sparked that bold flirtation, it was undoubtedly just him amusing himself by yanking your chain hard. 

Shaking your head disgustedly, you stacked your clean pans. This kind of negative self-talk was just as unproductive as indulging fantasies. Squaring your shoulders, you decided to follow Harry's advice - a hot shower was wise after a shift like tonight, then straight to bed.

Tomorrow was a new day to refocus and earn your place, plain and simple. As you hung up your apron, you resolved to greet Harry with a clear head, a smile, and firm professional boundaries from now on. Time to nip this nonsense.

Unfortunately, maintaining those boundaries proved far easier said than done. Over the next couple weeks, it seemed like Harry launched a campaign to slowly chip away at your sense of propriety.

It was like a game, seeing how far he could push before you combusted. Every time you'd settle back into your usual groove, Harry would level you with flirtatious comments.

Like when you restocked the walk-in shelves, so focused you didn't hear the door open behind you. The first hint of no longer being alone was the heat of Harry's chest against your back, molding from shoulder to hip.

His raspy exhale ghosted your neck as he purred, "Need any...extra hands to reach those hard-to-reach places, love?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the suggestive comment. Whirling around, you found yourself centimeters from his chiseled jaw, close enough to feel his amused chuckle.

He took a single step back, eyes shamelessly roving over your body before meeting your gaze, one eyebrow arched invitingly. You could only gape, robbed of coherent thoughts.

"I-I didn't hear you come in," you eventually stammered, trying in vain to will your blush away.    

Harry simply tipped you a wink before squeezing past you through the narrow opening, his body dragging against yours with every micro-movement. By the time he sauntered out whistling, you were gripping the shelves to keep upright.

It wasn't just the innuendos and lingering looks Harry leveled at you that made you feel like you were losing it. He'd instigate small, casual intimacies while you worked, completely eroding your focus.

Like when you labored over a roulade during prep, Harry hovered at your shoulder to murmur appreciated groans about "how good you are at working that lengthy meat with your bare hands."

You froze, blood rushing to your cheeks as Harry's heated gaze bore into you. His lips twitched as he deliberately looked you up and down, taking in your flushed throat. 

"Among other things," he added in a tone dripping with innuendo, making you nearly drop the roulade. Harry threw you a scorching look before sauntering off, leaving you flustered.

Another time, you garnished a plate when you felt Harry's hard body press against your back. His large hands caged you in as he leaned down. You froze, breath catching, as his nose skimmed along your neck to the soft spot beneath your ear.

"Mmm, you smell delicious," Harry rumbled, his gravelly voice sparking tingles everywhere his warm breath hit. "I could just eat you up, petal."

You barely suppressed a whimper at the heated promise in his tone, squeezing your thighs together as arousal flooded you. Harry chuckled low, leaving you feverish and shaky after brushing his lips along your ear.

Moments like these rapidly became the norm - heated glances, suggestive remarks laced with innuendo, lingering casual touches far past professional boundaries. It left you feeling unmoored and disoriented, certain the prize was something deliriously illicit.

You tried to shut it down at first, offering polite reminders about conduct. But Harry only grinned, as if you barely registered. "Relax, love. Harmless flirting between coworkers never hurt anyone."  

As the incidents persisted, your token protests grew weaker. Though you refused to admit it, some part of you began craving Harry's heated focus and suggestive teasing like an addiction.

He always paid you those inappropriate compliments while deeply engrossed in showpiece cooking. As if he derived pleasure from flustering you amid such intense artistry. 

Truthfully, it did add an undercurrent of charged tension to mundane tasks - feeling Harry's eyes tracking your hands as you worked, knowing he was eye-undressing you. Though you refused to meet his gaze, a delicious shiver inevitably rippled through you.

He'd hover nearby with a murmured narration: "Oh yeah, petal...use both hands to really get a good grip on that shaft...fucking gorgeous watching you stroke it like that..."

No matter how disciplined you tried to be, Harry's sly innuendo always made your mind race with X-rated visuals of intimacy. You'd bite your cheek to keep from whimpering, consumed by arousal and shame equally.

By the time work ended each night, you felt punch-drunk and disoriented, like you'd run an erotic marathon. More than once, Harry would further mercilessly bait you in those vulnerable moments.

"You look thoroughly debauched, petal," he'd purr, eyes burning into yours before dragging down your sweat-dampened form. "Care to skip the hot shower and come home with me instead? I'll give those talented hands a real workout..."  

You swore Harry could make any phrase sound filthy. On too many nights, you fled to your car - face flushed, breath uneven, core throbbing - envisioning how those invitations might unfold.

In quieter moments, bitter self-recrimination was your companion. How had you let yourself become such a pathetic, distracted mess over meaningless flirting? No matter how heated Harry's stares felt, he was your famous boss while you were nobody.  

Your entire career and reputation rested on maintaining a strict professional boundary, no matter how electrifying and tempting your boss's overt sexuality. You resolved on more than one drive home to simply start shutting things completely down as soon as inappropriate comments began, no matter how intoxicating they felt.

Sadly, as soon as you stepped back into the thick of Harry's potent charisma and sensual magnetic field, your willpower tended to erode embarrassingly fast. 

One morning during a high-stress meal prep, you trudged towards the walk-in in search of more chives. Harry looked up sharply from his sauce station as you passed his station and snagged your wrist to halt you. The unexpected gesture made you jump, and you whirled to find his  eyes already roving hungrily over you.

"Wait," he rumbled, not bothering with any professionalism as his heated stare settled on your lips. Before you could question him, Harry tugged you flush against the long hard planes of his body, caging you against his workstation with his pelvis slotted snugly between your thighs.

The sheer eroticism of that ardent man-handling and friction punched the breath from your lungs. You could only stare up at Harry with wide, lust-blown eyes, momentarily bemused into stillness as his forearm came to rest beside your head, his deliciously musky sandalwood scent surrounding you in an intoxicating cloud.

"You've got a smear of sauce right..." Harry breathed against your mouth, so close now you could taste the earthy spice on his warm breath. His free hand came up to cup your jaw tenderly, rough thumb swiping out to trace the seam of your parted lips. "Here."

Your chest heaved against his in tiny, panting gasps. Any remaining illusion of boundary, lay in crumbling ruins around your feet. There was no mistaking Harry's seduction for mere playful teasing at this proximity, and indecency.

This was him finally making his play, naked want and desire radiating off his tall frame in scorching waves as his searing gaze clung to your mouth. Every ounce of blood in your body rushed straight between your thighs in anticipation.

You remained utterly motionless, rendered speechless and hyper-focused entirely on the sizzling feedback of sensation Harry's proximity inspired. He was absolutely everywhere - the heat of his body seeping under your skin, the slow rhythmic rise and fall of his chest brushing against yours, the gravelly white noise of his ragged breathing surrounding your senses.

Every rational thought in your mind screamed at you to gather some shred of control and push him away, firmly shut this down before it escalated further than you could ever recover from. But you remained frozen in place, utterly possessed by the intoxicating anticipation of what those plump, virile lips would feel like finally slanting over your own.

Just as your last vestiges of propriety and worry threatened to shatter, a ringing clatter of trays against metal echoed in the hallway. Both of you jumped as if electrocuted, the tension between your pressed bodies dissipating in an instant as reality came crashing back. You stumbled backwards, putting several feet between you, just as one of the prep cooks rounded the corner lugging a heavy trolley.

Harry cleared his throat roughly and shifted to put more workspace between you, drawing in a deep, steadying breath. The aborted moment seemed to penetrate the fog of arousal, harsh light returning to his dilated emerald eyes as they flickered across you. You wrapped your arms around your midsection defensively, suddenly feeling small and skittish under the weight of his palpable discomfort.

The prep cook sailed by with a polite nod, oblivious to the fraught tableau he'd interrupted. As soon as he rounded the corner again, Harry shook his head and grasped the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing his eyes shut in clear frustration.

You watched with bated breath, anxiety coiled in your belly, as he seemed to wrestle with some internal dilemma. When Harry finally opened his eyes again, the naked hunger that had consumed him only moments ago was carefully veiled once more behind that affable, dimpled mask.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, more to himself than you. Straightening, Harry met your uncertain gaze head-on, his own shuttered and inscrutable. "That was...completely out of line. Unprofessional of me."

Your heart stammered in your chest at the curt dismissal, warm arousal rapidly cooling into brittle rejection. Of course this had all been a mere game to Harry, one he lost interest in as soon as the threat of consequences loomed. You were such a fool to have let yourself get caught up in the fantasy.

Fighting to keep your expression neutral, you gave a small, tight nod. "It's alright, Harry. I understand. We got...carried away there for a moment." The flimsy excuse felt pathetic even to your own ears, but you pressed on. "It won't happen again, I can assure you."

Something flickered behind Harry's gaze at your reassurance, though you couldn't parse its meaning. He maintained the weighted silence for a heavy pause before finally replying.

"See that it doesn't," he replied evenly, a subtle edge to his deep timbre. "We're professionals in a workplace, after all. No matter what harmless games we play at, I'd hate to see you get...distracted from your goals here, petal."

You flinched at the petname, once again. Color bloomed hot across your cheeks at the insinuation that you would be the one unable to draw the line between flirtation and flat-out unprofessional conduct.

Disappointment and shame swirled sickeningly in your gut alongside lingering arousal. Before you could formulate a response, Thomason's bellow echoed across the kitchen, shockingly close. "Oi! Either get back to your stations or take the grope fest to the alley already! Some of us got shit to do today!"

If you thought you were flushed before, it was nothing compared to the full-body conflagration sparked by the head chef's words. You opened and closed your mouth soundlessly, utterly mortified at being caught out in such compromising circumstances, as Thomason stomped closer into view with a disgusted scowl. 

"What the fuck are you two playing at, huh?" he demanded gruffly, stabbing an accusatory finger first at you then Harry. "Styles, I expected this kind of shitty lack of focus from a prima donna rock star jackass - but you?" He swung his narrowed glare your way, making you shrink back involuntarily. "If you want to keep getting world-class knowledge dropped on your dumb ass, try keeping it in your goddamn pants around the maestro for five fucking minutes!"

If possible, your flush deepened even further at his harsh reprimand. Shame roiled nauseously as you struggled to meet Thomason's furious glare, much less Harry's eerily impassive one. This was it, the humiliating moment you'd been dreading - getting outed as just another silly starstruck girl unable to rein in inappropriate impulses around her famous boss.

Just as you began mentally drafting your letter of resignation, Harry finally broke the tension by letting out a low chuckle. You shot him an incredulous glance, but he simply shook his head, dimples creasing his cheeks ruefully. Raising placating hands, he turned to the seething Thomason with an engaging grin.

"Easy there, Paulie. No need to get your apron twisted, nothing skeevy going on here I assure you." Dropping one hand to your shoulder, Harry gave it a firm squeeze, muscles in his bicep flexing enticingly. "Our young prodigy and I were just engaged in a bit of innocent culinary mentorship. You know how hands-on and intense those private tutorials can get."

His lascivious emphasis made it clear there was nothing 'innocent' about the nature of contact you'd nearly devolved into. But Thomason seemed to relax marginally all the same, giving a grunt of grudging acceptance.

"Fine, but keep your dick out of the dough while you're on my clock, capisce?" he growled at Harry, ignoring your scandalized gasp as he turned on his heel to stomp away. "Christ, I feel like I'm running a fucking fry shack instead of a Michelin kitchen..."

You watched his retreating back, utterly stunned into speechlessness by the unbelievable turn of events. Was...that seriously it? Harry had just implicitly outed your unprofessional indiscretion, and the consequences amounted to mild ribbing and a halfhearted reprimand?

Slowly, you pivoted to face Harry once more, utterly at a loss. His hand was still a scorching brand on the cool exposed skin of your shoulder, eyes glinting with that same indefinable mischief you'd witnessed him deploying to charm countless others.

As if sensing where your thoughts were headed, Harry quirked a knowing smile before finally withdrawing his touch. "Don't look so stricken, love. Paulie likes to play the crusty hardass, but far as he's concerned - as long as the work gets done right, whatever happens off the clock is nobody's business but our own."

His emphasis on those last few words rang with clear unspoken suggestion. But unlike before, you felt firmly centered in yourself enough to shake off any arousal. Lifting your chin defiantly to meet his smoldering gaze, you replied in a low, measured tone:

"Then with all due respect, Harry...I believe I'll pass."

For the first time all evening, the suave restaurateur looked briefly taken aback. You refused to let the flicker of uncertainty show as you pressed on, keeping your voice carefully modulated.

"I've put in far too much time and hard work getting here to jeopardize it all over some...tawdry infatuation. So while I'm flattered by the attention, and your willingness to keep things discreet, I have to draw the line at anything more than a professional mentorship."

Harry's eyes narrowed fractionally, clearly unaccustomed to such outright rejection. You refused to quail, squaring your shoulders as you laid it all on the table.

"My dreams are bigger than being another disposable conquest for my famous boss to slum with in secret. If you can't see me as more than that...well then, I wish you the very best. But our relationship can only be strictly chef-to-chef from here on out."

You paused to let the weight of your impassioned words hang between you, searching Harry's expression for any flicker of reaction. For several tense moments, the only sounds were the distant murmurings of kitchen noises and your own thundering pulse.

Then, as if an invisible switch clicked, Harry's stony demeanour melted away - replaced by a look of grudging amusement and what could only be begrudging respect. The familiar dimples you adored so much reappeared as his lips curved into a wry half-smile.

"I see," he replied at last, voice low and considering. "Well then. If those are your terms, I can hardly expect any less from such an admirably principled young chef, can I?"

Another beat passed between you, the tension slowly bleeding out to be replaced with the subtlest charge of intrigue. Harry's emerald gaze roamed over you in a way that felt far more evaluative than outright sensual before he spoke again.

"Very well then. A professional mentorship it shall be, with all the rigor and boundaries that implies. But make no mistake..." Here his lips stretched into a lopsided smirk that somehow felt both conspiratorial and vaguely provocative. "I expect you to rise to every challenge and be an exceptionally eager pupil, my dear."

You couldn't quite suppress the shiver that rippled through you at his lilting promise, despite your best efforts. If anything, the glint in Harry's eye only sharpened at your reaction, his grin taking on a hint of satisfaction.

Wanting to flee the weighted tension before it could reset that dangerous gravitational pull between you, you quickly gave a curt nod before turning on your heel to walk away. "Then we have an understanding. I won't let you down, Chef.”

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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ex-boyfriend's dad!harry part 2

Summary: Harry wants to show you what you've been missing if you'll let him. OR The filthy smutty one.

A/N: This full series is already live on Patreon, with all 4 parts up! Part 3 will be posted here in one week. THIS PART HAS NEARLY 9K WORDS OF SMUT ALONE. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.

Word Count: 10.8k

Series Warnings: explicit content, smut (including anal, rough blow jobs), age gap, angst, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, choking, slight degradation, use of small implements (collar and leash, anal plug)

Part 2 Warnings: smut, rough blow job training, age gap, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, use of anal plug, use of collar and leash, choking, slight degradation, spitting, size kink (as always), anal play

ex-boyfriend's dad!harry masterlist

. . .

It felt like one of your fantasies, to have Harry’s eyes on you in your bedroom, where you knew he was about to do some very unwholesome things to you. He said he was going to show you what it felt like to be eaten out by a man who enjoys it and that was... Well, that was the hottest thing you’d ever heard when it was coming from his mouth.

You sat on your bed and watched as Harry rolled his sleeves up to his elbows as if he was about to do some manual labor, “You look cute tonight, Y/n. Did you have me in mind when you picked out those shorts?”

You looked down at your lap and smiled before looking at him, “Yes.”

“Did you eat before I came over?”

Now this question caught you off guard. You shook your head, “Uh… no. I ate earlier. Like one o’clock I think?”

He tutted at you as he removed his belt, pulling the leather from the belt loops on his pants, “We’ll eat something after we’re done here. Okay?”

You nodded. In truth, you liked that he planned something after you were done. It meant that he’d be sticking around a bit longer. Maybe he’d stay all night. You didn’t want to push your luck.

This was a side of Harry you hadn’t really gotten to see before. Somehow his demeanor was filling in tiny cracks you didn’t know needed filled. It felt like things were sealing and fusing together inside of you as you watched him move about and talk to you the way he was. Like he knew exactly what he was doing.

Your bedroom seemed so small with him standing in it, his eyes on you while you sat in wait on your bed. Waiting for him to tell you what to do next. Waiting to see what he was going to do and how he’d do it.

He took one long-legged step toward your bed and dropped the heavy black belt onto your light blue comforter before he sat next to you.

You kept your eyes on his movements as if your life depended on it. You watched his hand draw up to your chin and felt his fingers squeeze into your skin before he pulled your face in toward his and ran his smooth lips up your jaw, “I’m gonna make you feel so good Y/n.”

You closed your eyes and every part of you was open to him. Pliable and willing. Whatever he wanted. However he wanted it. You wanted it if he was going to be the one doing it.

He pressed his fingers into the hollows of your cheeks with his large palm pressing to the underside of your chin, his thumb on one side and pointer finger on the other of your face when he pressed his lips to yours. The juxtaposition of his soft lips and his harsh grip had you spinning. He was directing the entire thing and angling your face toward his the way he wanted. You sat your palm on his upper thigh to balance yourself and that’s when he pushed his tongue into your mouth. Wet and hot. You opened up for him and felt his tongue lap against yours.

The pitiful moan that fell from your chest had him smiling against your lips, “You like to be handled a little rough, Y/n?”

You nodded against his mouth before he parted from the kiss, “I can tell.” He released his grip from your face and ran his fingers along your temple, “If you want to see me again after this then we’ll get into a little more of what I think you’ll like and things I like. We’ll go over the rules. But there’s no pressure today. Okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled at him. But… See him again? Get into things he likes? That had your heart lobbing in your chest with satisfaction.

“I might hold you tight with my hands to keep you still, maybe do a few little things just to see how you like it, but nothing too rough or uncomfortable. If you don’t like something just tell me. Today we’re just gonna have some fun and get ourselves sorted out.”

You watched him shift and your hand fell away from his thigh as he gripped your sides and pushed you up to your pillows before rubbing his hands down your thighs and over your shins before pushing your legs apart, “Keep your legs open for me. I don’t want you closing them, even if you feel like you want to or it’s your natural urge. There will be consequences,” he smirked at you before continuing, “Nothing severe, though. We’re just playing right, Y/n?” He pushed his hands up the insides of your thighs as his green eyes seared into you.

You grinned and bobbed your head up and down in agreement as you looked from his eyes to where his hands were inching closer to your crotch, his fingers sneaking under the hem of your shorts (which were quite short).

He lifted your left leg first, keeping his eyes on yours as he smushed his plush lips against the inside of your thigh, “Ever since you told me that you weren’t getting the favor returned to you I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. About doing this to you. To show you what you’ve been missing. Feels like I need to make up for what Tyler wouldn’t do. So you know that kind of behavior doesn’t run in the family.”

His lips trailed over your soft flesh and up to the hem of your shorts, using his thumb to push the material up so he could get his mouth as close to your core as possible without actually being close enough to your very center.

He switched to your other thigh, placing your left leg down on the bed and lifting the right one the same way he did with the other, “Knew you’d be so good for me. Didn’t want to admit it then but I certainly imagined it. Do you know what I did that night after we got out of the pool?”

You shook your head, “No. What?”

He grinned, moving his mouth further up again and to the hem of your shorts, “It’s shameful and dirty but I couldn’t help it, Y/n. Before I tell you what I did,” he pushed your shorts up and applied a wet open mouth kiss to your skin, “I have to be honest. I saw your pretty little pussy that night.”

You blinked your eyes as you listened to him. You didn’t mean to let your mouth drop open the way it did because you kind of suspected he had. But to hear him say it…

“When I pushed you out of the water you opened your legs, and I saw you. That image has been burned into my memory. Can’t stop seeing it, Y/n.”

You inhaled sharply as he dropped your right leg and began to put his hands into the band of your shorts, “Taking these off. Okay?”

You nodded, your eyes darting down to where he began to pull your stretchy shorts down your legs until you were only left in your panties (picked out just for the occasion) and t-shirt.

You watched Harry’s eyes rove over your thighs and hips, his hands smoothing over you and down the side of your thighs before he dragged his knuckles down the center of your panties to your mound.

“That night, in my room I imagined you on your hands and knees for me, this pussy here,” he pressed over your labia and smoothed his thumb against the fabric of your panties, “just on display for me, peeking out from the back of your thighs.”

He licked his lips as he continued rubbing over your panties until he found the spot your clit was in and looked up at you, “I was so hard for you. And I felt awful, I really did, but I couldn’t stop seeing it, Y/n. I tried not to touch myself. Tried not to think about your breasts and your hips and this pretty bottom,” he kneaded at your upper thighs where the plush flesh met the curve of your butt. “But I couldn’t stop the sight of you from filling my head.”

You kept bouncing your sight from his fingers to his face as he continued.

“Mind if I pull this to the side? So I can see it again?”

“Yeah. It’s okay,” you nodded and held your breath as he hooked his finger into the crotch of your panties and pulled them aside. He cooed when your pussylips came into view and immediately pressed his thumb over your labia with the softest touch, smearing your arousal gently upward to your clit.

“When I couldn’t stop the picture of you naked and wet in the pool I began to ache. I tried willing my erection away but it didn’t work. I was in bed trying to think of anything else. I attempted to close my eyes and go to sleep but that only made it worse.”

“Then I started to leak. I wasn’t wearing anything. Went to bed naked because it hurt too much to put anything over my cock. But when I felt the moisture at my tip I knew I was fucked. My body was too turned on and I was dripping precome. I had to spread it down my shaft and stroked myself a little bit for relief but it felt too good.”

He sighed and you felt his fingers push your lips apart as he focused in on your pussy and then circled over your clit, making you moan.

“So I fucked my fist and imagined you were there, pressing your wet cunt up and down my cock and getting the relief I knew you were in need of. And even now, I can tell you need relief. So wet and puffy. Your skin is so hot.”

You swallowed and nodded shallowly as you watched him circle two fingers at your entrance and gently push in just the tips, “Want my fingers inside of you?”

“Yes,” you breathed, watching closely as he plunged his long finger into his last knuckle and you felt that yummy tightness of being filled up. He softly stroked along your walls, pushing in and pulling his fingers back as he looked from your eyes to your wet pussy and the mess you were making on his fingers.

“I need to tell you something else. Something Tyler told me because I think it’s only fair you know what he said. And I want to make sure it’s true. Okay?”

You nodded as he continued the languid pressing of his fingers inside of you.

“Said you liked being choked. Is that right?”

You blinked and nodded, “Well… yeah. I mean, I haven’t ever been so I don’t know but I wanted to see if I liked it. I think I will.”

He nodded, “And you want to be spit on? In your mouth?”

You let out a shaky breath and nodded, “On my tongue. And here,” you moved your hand down to where Harry was pumping his fingers inside of you.

“Oh yeah? Like this?”

You watched as he pulled his fingers from your opening and gathered saliva on his tongue before gripping your thighs and tilting your hips up. He spat over you, the warm spray of his spit landing on your labia and the space over your entrance had you moaning and lifting so you could see it better as he smeared the liquid under his digits and then pushed it inside of you, continuing to fuck you with his fingers.

“Yes. Just like that…” You looked at his face in awe as he leaned across and grabbed the back of your neck with his free hand.

“Open your mouth. Stick your tongue out.”

He tilted your neck back and your lips drew open wide, your tongue slipping past your mouth before you felt the drizzle of his saliva coating your tongue and then he pressed his mouth over yours softly before sitting back and letting go of your neck, his fingers still fucking into you slowly.

You were already panting, frazzled, burning hot, desperate. He could see it. The change in you. The sudden shift in the way you were breathing, your eyes, your lips… everything told him you wanted more.

“Did you like that?” You could hear the wet sound of your pussy being fingered by the man who just spit in your mouth. The first man to ever do so. Your brain was turning to mush but you managed to nod your head in response.

“And you want to try anal sex too? True?”

You swallowed thickly. You wanted to be honest with him so you were, “I’ve used toys on myself so I know I like it. Just never had anyone do it to me.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed at you and he licked his lips, “What kind of toys, Y/n?”

You moaned when he stroked against something that made your insides tingle, “Dildo. I also have a plug I like to wear when I… play with myself.”

“When you masturbate?”

You nodded and then he applied his thumb over your clit and you dropped your mouth wide.

“Do you use a vibrator? Dildo?”

You sucked in a deep breath and tried to keep yourself calm but his fingers were magic, “Both. I like… oh god…” you closed your eyes and breathed at the sensation he was giving you, “I use the plug and then masturbate with a dildo, push it in and I can feel the plug pressing it… ooohh mmm…” you moaned and rolled your hips up.

“That’s good, Y/n. So good for me, honey,” you could hear the change in his voice. He sounded quite ruttish himself. “I like all those things too. If you want them, I’ll give them to you. Okay? That is if you want more after today.”

You nodded and continued to gasp in between pants as he hastened his fingers, his knuckles thwacking into you harder.

Suddenly he’d pulled his fingers out of you and you felt his hands at the top of the waistband of your panties, “These are very pretty but I need them gone because I’m gonna eat your pussy now. Sound good, Y/n?”

He kept his eyes on yours as you nodded and peeped out a yes.

The silk and lacy fabric was tossed into your room faster than you could wrap your brain around when he was crawling himself down until his mouth was inches from your cunt.

You watched him carefully as he focused his gaze on yours, “This what you want, Y/n? Want your ex’s daddy? Yeah?”

The guttural moan that fell from your lips when he said it filled your bedroom, “Yes. I want it.”

Now you knew he’d said daddy to get some kind of reaction from you. You certainly always thought of him as such regardless, but with him on your bed in your bedroom with your pussy wet and on display for him it all felt so intense. So raw.

“I know you do. Who’s gonna keep you satisfied in bed, sweet girl? Tell me who you want doing this to you,” he smeared his fingers up and down your labia, pushing your slick around and painting your pussylips and clit with arousal.

“You. I want you to do it.”

His pink tongue poked out from his lips to wet his mouth, “That’s right. You want Daddy to take care of you. Yeah?” His brows raised at you.

You whimpered and tossed your neck back when he pressed his tongue over your clit and then removed it in a cruel tease, “Yes!”

“Who’s gonna take good care of you, honey? Tell me. I wanna hear you say it.”

You popped your eyes open and looked at him, hovering over your cunt with an evil grin set on his face. You knew what he wanted to hear.

“You’re gonna take care of me… Daddy. You.”

He moaned and immediately ducked down to kiss your clit into his mouth and then licked upward from your entrance, “Good girl,” he spoke as he split your labia with his tongue and found your clit, wrapping his lips around you and began to eat you alive. It felt like that. A man, starved, devouring your soft flesh and wet bits.

You could only let out breathy pants and whiny moans as he worked your pussy like no one ever had. Tongue and lips and hot breath over your core… wide open mouth sucking you in… You let out a garbled moan when he pushed two fingers back inside of you. Your arms and legs were jelly and each time he looked at you it reminded you that this wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t just one of your fantasies. You were getting eaten out by your ex-boyfriend’s dad.

The sound of slippery fingers pressing wetly into your body was lined with slurps and sucks as he used his free hand to hold your right thigh in place.

“Oh my god!” You yelped and pushed yourself up by your elbows to watch as he flicked his tongue back and forth over your clit before he flattened it and carved a naughty route around your wet button. He alternated between the slow slide of his tongue around your collection of nerves and pressing over it in meaningful flicks as his fingers pumped into you and glided over your front wall, dipping into your g-spot.

The combination of his fingers and his mouth was exactly what you needed. What you’d been craving.

You laid back into the bed when it was too much to keep yourself up to watch and you heard him puff out a laughed breath against you, “Feel good? This what you wanted?”

A whimper was pushed from your lungs as you gasped, “Fuck. Yes!”

It was like your body was slowly sizzling and cooking, rendering out juices and softening, gradually becoming fork tender. You were sure that once he was done snacking on your pussy you’d be nothing but a slippery puddle on your bed.

You felt as if your body was not your own as Harry worked you with his mouth and fingers. You gave in to him completely as you slid your shaky hands down to his head and felt his hair between your fingers.

And it wasn’t just good. It didn’t just feel satisfying. It felt like something beyond what you could describe. It had your insides churning and liquifying as your brain turned to a mushy mess of need and ache.

“Oh!” You cried out as that familiar tingle spread over your core and through your tummy. The sound of your moans set Harry off as he began to press his tongue harder onto your clit, slipping his tongue back and forth and curling his fingers against your front wall.

You could feel the wetness spread to your ass which just made you feel hotter… you knew it was a mix of his spit and your own arousal dripping down to your anus and then to your comforter.

But then Harry removed his mouth and you peeked down at him as he placed the pads of his fingers over your clit and circled as he spat on you again, but this time lower, under the spot his fingers were stuffed and you felt it on your ass as you began to tremble from his fingers inside of you and the ones on your clit.

He moved his fingers from your clit and looked up at you quickly as lowered his hand to your anus and poked at your empty hole with his middle finger, “I can tell you’re about to come, Y/n. You ready for this, baby?”

You whined and nodded, “Yes, Daddy.”

He grinned at you calling him Daddy and then slowly pressed his finger into your ass, his other hand still stroking his fingers inside of your pussy, lifting the slightest so he could get a good look at how he was stuffing you with his digits.

The moment he’d gotten his middle finger tucked deep into your bum you let out a strange gasp and then he brought his mouth back to your clit.

It was the perfect trifecta that had you quivering and wetly mumbling nonsense into your room. Not something you’d ever even imagined, even in your wildest dreams. To have a man fingering your ass with one hand, fucking his fingers into your pussy with his other, and slurping on your clit with his mouth.

You convulsed and your thighs shook violently as you tugged at his hair tightly. You weren’t you in that very moment. You were just some being who was at the mercy of another as he orchestrated your orgasm like he already knew how you were going to respond. Like he knew better than you did.

Having anything tucked into your ass while you were masturbating was always a guarantee for an intense orgasm. But having Harry’s finger pressing into you and his slippery mouth working over your clit like it was just did something else. Something primitive and innate.

He was going into your pussy so hard your butt was lifted off the bed and you were flopping and squirming as your release hit you like a hammer. You felt it in your jaw and your heart, your ribs were expanding and contracting as you sucked in as much air as you could before crying out loudly.

You had no control of any of your limbs or the way your pussy clenched and spasmed over his fingers. You weren’t sure what you were saying or if real words were even coming out of your mouth. Your mind was blurry and you were beholden to the way Harry was manipulating you with his fingers and his tongue.

Moments went by where you were sure you were unconscious. You’d lost yourself for a moment in blurry bliss but then you heard his deep voice cooing at you. His words weren’t registering but his voice brought you back slowly.

You threw your arm over your eyes as you panted for oxygen, chest rising and falling violently. You had no power over the way your legs were still trembling, but then you felt Harry’s big hands gently rubbing up and down your thighs.

“There we go… just relax, baby,” he spoke softly, trying to settle you and bring you back with small squeezes, fingers indenting into your skin and thumbs gliding along your muscles.

You felt him wrap a hand around your wrist and lift your arm from your face, “Let me see you. Look at me, Y/n.”

You slowly blinked your eyes opened to see him leaning over you. His hair was a mess from how you’d yanked at his roots and he was flushed with dark pupils as he grinned at you, “So pretty. Feel better now?”

You nodded and sighed as he adjusted his position and fell to the bed next to you, pulling you into his arms.

“We’ll just lie here for a minute. Talk a bit. Okay? Want you to come down a little. Get your bearings.” His delicate touch on your temple, the pad of his thumb rubbing at your skin had you swooning. This man was too good.

“Okay,” you drew your hand up to his shoulder and smiled.

“I’ll make you something to eat after we’re done here if you don’t mind me rummaging through your kitchen. Is that okay?”

“You don’t have to do that, Harry. I can make something–“

“So does that mean you don’t want me going through your fridge?”

“No. I don’t care if you go through my fridge,” you laughed, “I just meant I can do it.”

Harry grinned at you, “Yeah but you didn’t do it before I came over and we need to make sure you eat. So it’s settled. I’ll make you something. But first,” he ran his fingers down the skin on your cheek to the edge of your mouth, “I wanted to try one more thing. Something you told me you liked when we were in the pool that night.”

You kept your eyes on his and when his lips pulled up into a devilish grin you understood what he meant before he even said it, making your own lips tug upward.

“You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

You nodded, still grinning back at him.

His thumb trailed over your bottom lip before pressing down on it, making you open up for him as he smushed his digit into your mouth and over your tongue where you closed your lips and sucked.

He watched you suckle at his digit and pull at it with your lips, “It’s something else I can’t stop dreaming of. Imagining you on your knees with my cock down your throat. And I have no qualms about making you gag either, honey. Make you drool and choke on it. I’ll take it easy on you tonight, though.”

You kept sucking on his thumb as you hummed and nodded, your eyes bobbing from his lips to his pretty eyes as he spoke.

He slowly slid his thumb from your lips and watched your saliva follow his digit as he pulled it away. He pushed himself to sit up and pulled you with him. His hands clutched the bottom hem of your t-shirt, “We’re gonna get you naked. Might get a little messy. Okay?”

“Okay.” You felt like your voice was small and far away as he dragged the fabric up your torso and off your head. The moment your shirt was gone his finger brushed up your skin to your bra, which matched the panties that were lying somewhere on your floor.

You watched his face as he reached around and unhooked your bra clasp, “This is pretty, Y/n. You were so sweet to think of me when you dressed before I came over,” he spoke lowly as your bra fell off your shoulders and was pushed to the side before he cupped your nude tits in his hands, “But I like this a lot better.”

He ducked down and wrapped his lips over your nipple as he kneaded and squeezed the other. You gasped at the harsh tug he gave you and you ran your fingers into his hair and arched your back into him. He continued licking and sucking until he’d gotten both sides. Pulling at your nipples and then licking the spot, the cool air drawing chills over your skin.

The attention he gave your body was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. You were floating and your heart was pounding and your body was on fire.

When he pulled away you watched him get off your bed. He kept his eyes on you and your body as he unbuttoned his shirt. Every button revealing more of his masculine build, dark tattoos, him.

And you’d seen all of him before. Not his dick, not directly, but you knew it was nice. The glimpses you caught as he was naked in the pool with you told you all you needed to know.

He shrugged his shirt off onto the floor and then you noted the bulky lump under his pants. He sighed as he unbuttoned his pants and then began to pull them down his hips and his thighs. You wouldn’t take your eyes off the spectacle. You already knew his body was insane. But knowing that you were in the midst of a sexual encounter with him and that body felt surreal.

His boxer briefs hugged tightly to his erect cock and you kept your eyes on it as he pushed those down his strong thighs. When he stood upright after getting his briefs off you slid from the bed and got to your knees, as if by some invisible force. You didn’t even make the conscious decision to kneel in front of him and sit back on your calves with your eyes dragging over the healthy cock attached to the man standing in front of you.

Healthy. Sure. You could see that much. All of him was strong and healthy. Virile. But it was big. Thick, long, pretty. You hated that a small section of your brain compared him with Tyler instantly. But you couldn’t help it. It was stunning and it was just yet another thing that Tyler lacked that his father made up for.

“Look at you. Didn’t even need to tell you what to do,” he ran a hand over the back of your head, petting you like you were a well-behaved puppy.

You looked up at him with rounded eyes and parted lips. You couldn’t wait to get him in your mouth.

Harry smiled proudly down at you as he gripped his shaft and slowly stroked himself in front of your face. He watched your eyes dart from his cock to his face as you waited for him to tell you what to do next.

“Who’s cock do you wanna suck, honey?” His deep voice penetrated your skin and you were simply vibrating from everything he did and said.

“Your cock, Daddy.” You kept your eyes connected to his as you answered him. Your mouth was already pooling with saliva at the anticipation of tasting him. Of feeling him in your mouth.

His knuckles ghosted down your cheekbone with his free hand as he continued pumping his cock with his other. His tip dangerously close to your lips.

You wiggled in your spot and swallowed as you blinked up at him and he watched you wait patiently for him to start. Because he was in charge. And you knew he was.

“Go on then. Take a little sip,” he smeared the bit of precome on his tip over your lips and you nearly fainted as you grasped around his hand over his cock and closed your eyes, parting your mouth. You stuck out your tongue, cupping the underside of his head before you wrapped your lips around his tip and it was heaven. To have your mouth and tongue on him. Knowing he was going to give you another experience you’d always longed for.

You suckled and curved your tongue under him, feeling his smooth skin in your mouth as you looked up at him before attempting to go deeper.

He was glorious standing above you with his eyes on your face as you sucked him. His abs and the dark tattoos, muscled pecs, broad shoulders… All you wanted to do was choke on him. Give him the best head he’d ever gotten, feel him pushing down your throat, and hear him groaning.

He moved his hand away from his cock as you began to use your palm as an extension of your mouth, warming yourself up to take him deeper.

“You gonna slide down further, honey? Want to know what it feels like?” He softly placed his hand at the back of your head as you bobbed over him, your saliva coating him as you spread it with your hand over his shaft.

Bringing your lips back to his tip you swirled your tongue around his frenulum and pulled back, continuing to pump him with your hand in long strokes, “I want to make you feel good. I’ve never done it like this before. I’m worried about my teeth hurting you…”

He grinned down at you and rubbed your head, “That’s a good sign that you don’t want to hurt me,” he chuckled. “We’ll take it slow. Get some practice. See how deep you can handle it, okay?”

You nodded and puckered your lips to kiss his cockhead and then pressed devoted kisses down his shaft and back up to his crown before wrapping your lips back around him and cradling the bottom of his cock with your tongue as you slid down further and back to his tip.

His gravelly sigh egged you on. It sounded like he was enjoying what you were doing and that was exactly what you wanted.

You forced your eyes to look up at him so you would watch his face and his brows were already stitched together as he watched you on his cock.

“Bring your hand down to my balls, sweetheart. Squeeze gently and then I want to feel you push your throat down further on me. Okay? Let’s see how deep you can manage.”

You moaned as you moved your hand from his shaft to his scrotum and palmed at them before pressing your hands around them with care. He moaned as his eyes stayed on you.

Sucking in a deep breath through your nose you forced your mouth down further, the thick girth filling your mouth then his tip curving against the roof of your mouth and slipping against your tonsils.

You coughed around him and felt the urge to gag as you pulled back and then repeated, trying to get lower and keep him in your throat longer.

It took a few tries. You’d get as low as possible and feel the sting of your sinuses awakening tears in your eyes as you gurgled over him and pulled back for air.

On your fourth try, lips smearing down his shaft and drool wetting your chin you heard him moan loudly, “Fuck, baby. You’re doing so good. Gonna get you used to this so I can fuck your mouth like you wanted. I think you can do better, though. Need help?”

You felt his hand grip the back of your head as he asked if you needed help and you moaned over his cock and pulled back, still kneading his balls softly in your palm.  Sucking in a deep breath of air you nodded, tears on your face already, being the amateur that you were at deep throating, “Yeah. Push me down. My natural urge is to keep backing up once I gag but I want more of you in my throat.”

Harry’s plush pink lips raised in a grin, “Okay, baby. We'll practice this. I’m gonna push you down slowly okay? Want you to close your eyes and open wide, keep your tongue out, and take in a big breath before I do it. Yeah? Then pinch my thigh if you need me to let go. But you’re gonna need to hold your breath for a little bit because I’m gonna hold you down as far as we can get you today. Ready?”

You took a deep breath and nodded, “Yes, Daddy.”

Harry sucked in a sharp breath at how you’d so easily fallen into calling him Daddy as he adjusted his hold on your head before helping you back onto his cock.

You opened your mouth and kept your tongue out like he told you and you felt his velvety skin slip over your tongue slowly until his tip was sliding against your tonsils and you felt that instinctive gag reflex begin to take over. But he pushed in past your tonsils and you squeezed your eyes shut as you felt him curve down your throat, inch by inch as you gulped around him automatically and gagged until you were without air. He moaned loudly as your throat constricted around his tip and he pressed your head down until your nose was against his pelvis and your lips were just grazing at the base of his shaft.

“Oh fuck… just like that baby… Daddy’s gonna teach you everything you need to know. So fucking good,” you felt him thrust shallowly, pushing his tip in and pulling back slightly as he began to gently fuck your face.

You held your breath and felt his wide cock sliding in and out of your throat as he groaned and massaged the back of your head lovingly. You wanted more. Wanted to give him whatever he wanted. Loved how he was praising you and enjoying your mouth, using it how he liked.

“Shit, Y/n… Look so pretty like this for me… Oh my god…” his voice was shaky as he grunted his words.

Suddenly he pulled back until his tip was at your lips and you coughed a gasp, inhaling air as you felt your saliva drip down your chin.

“Open up, honey, keep that mouth wide open…” Harry stood over you, his hand still at the back of your head as he began to stroke himself, his tip slipping over your tongue and his guttural moans had your heart pumping wildly as you peeked up at him through the tears in your eyes.

His face was twisted up as he panted with his arm flexing as he pumped himself against your tongue. You’d long forgotten about his balls as you gripped his sturdy thighs and blinked up at him with your tongue out.

“Oh shit… fuck…” he looked down at you and your tongue as he felt his balls squeeze against his body, “Gonna come, baby… where do you want it,” his words were rushed and breathy.

“In my mouth, Daddy. Want to taste it,” you spoke quickly before opening your mouth wide again stuck your tongue out to cradle his tip and he choked out a loud moan as he began to come on your tongue, a bit getting on your lips before you pushed in closer to keep his tip in your mouth as he fucked his cock with his big palm, his knees bent slightly to get the angle right.

His string of groans and pants had you giving him an open-mouthed grin as he drained himself into your mouth and on your tongue.

Harry’s chest heaved as he emptied every last drop and then he looked down at you again, pressing his tip against your tongue over the bit of come you still had in your mouth.

You closed your lips around his tip and sucked making him hiss. He cupped your jaw and looked down at you smugly before pulling his cock from your lips, “Swallow it all down, Y/n.”

You gulped him down and kept your eyes pinned to his.

“Let me see that tongue. Show Daddy you didn’t waste anything.”

You stuck your tongue out and angled your head back so he could see down your throat and he rubbed a thumb over your cheekbone, “Gonna be so fucking good baby. It’s only gonna feel better the more practice we get. Blew me away, Y/n,” he grinned as he helped you stand up and then pulled you into his arms, his mouth finding yours.

You could feel his chest rising and falling as he was still recovering from his orgasm. Your cheeks burned hot at all the praise and confidence he gave you.

He parted from the kiss and ran his hands up your arms, “Let’s go get cleaned up and then make something to eat.”

That was something else you’d never experienced. Having a man help you clean up and touching you after a sexual encounter. You were used to Tyler rolling over and letting you clean yourself up. Good luck ever getting him to hold you after. It was like he got his and that was all he needed.

But Harry spoke to you about what you might want to eat as he wetted a clean washcloth you pulled out from your cabinet and held you against your bathroom counter as he dabbed your thighs and sensitive skin on your pussy and then last to your backside as if it were second nature. As if he’d done it to you a million times before.

And you thought you were going to settle down and get your hormones in check after giving him that blow job (which had turned you on so much your vision was blurry). You figured the cleanup process would be the furthest thing from sexy but you’d been wrong.

Maybe it was how attentive he was with you, or the way he held you in place as he spoke so nonchalantly about what you had in your refrigerator as you both stood naked in your small bathroom. Maybe it was his gaze over your body as he made sure you were taken care of and cleaned up properly.

Whatever it was, it only made your heart wallop in your chest and your pussy stay wet despite his attempts at getting you wiped.

And he knew it too. You could see the smug smile as he kept wiping at you but part of you thought he was doing it on purpose in a way. Bumping the rag against your clit might not have been an accident. Perhaps it was to keep you wanting more of him.

He handed you your shorts and t-shirt to slip on as he pulled his boxer briefs up his legs.

Harry got to work in your kitchen. It was just a simple thing for you to eat. Eggs and toast with butter which all came together rather quickly. He made some for himself as well.

It was quite something watching a man cook in your kitchen. Especially when it was Harry. His back was clear of tattoos, but you could see them on his ribs and arms as he pushed the spatula under the eggs to flip them. His lats flexing and butt filling out his briefs in a way Tyler could only wish for.

But when he turned around with two plates and brought them to your table (where you were already seated) his front was something made of dreams. His body had you in a choke hold, even at nearly twice your age the man was more attractive than maybe anyone you’d ever laid eyes on.

Even the front of his crotch where his natural bulge sat was pretty. The way the elastic band of his underwear hugged his hips, his belly button…

“One would think you hadn’t just had an orgasm, Y/n.” He grinned. You’d been caught staring at his body. You couldn’t help it.

You laughed, “You’re just really good-looking.”

Harry sat down after placing both plates on the table, taking a big bite of toast, and chewed before responding, “And you’re just really gorgeous,” his eyes trailed down your frame and to your thighs. Even clothed you felt as if he was looking at your naked body.

You swallowed down your bite of egg and laughed through your nose, putting your hand up to cover your mouth as you shook your head.

“Why are you shaking your head no?”

“I don’t know. Feels weird to just accept a compliment like that.”

“What do you mean? Did my son never tell you how breathtaking you are?”

You looked down at your plate and shook your head, “Well… no,” before looking back into his eyes, “Not really. He seemed to be annoyed by me most of the time.”

Harry hummed as he looked you over and then patted his lap, “Come here.”

You bit your lip and pushed yourself out of your chair to sit in his lap like he wanted. Harry adjusted his thighs to accommodate you comfortably and pulled your back against his chest placing a hand on the top of your thigh, “He never treated you like you deserved.” His thumb smoothed over the skin on the outside of your thigh, “I’m glad you broke up with him. Surprised you put up with it for so long.”

You smiled to yourself quietly and felt flustered. Harry was such a change from what you’d been used to. He was sweet and it seemed so genuine. But the way he took control in bed and gave you a taste of what you really wanted… Honestly, it felt like he liked you more than his son who you dated for almost two years.

Harry pushed your legs to drape off the side of his thighs so he could look at you as he picked up his fork to take a bite and chew. You smiled at him and took another bite. You were hungrier than you thought and Harry had made the perfect over-easy eggs just like you liked.

“You believe that right? That you deserved so much better.”

You blinked your eyes as you looked at him. His face was so close to yours and his lap was warm under your bottom, “I think I knew I deserved better. It’s just easier said than done. But it’s over now. So…” you shrugged.

Harry nodded as he chewed the last bite of his toast bringing his hand up to your face. You loved that he seemed to continue giving you soft touches as if he wanted to keep letting you know, even nonverbally, that you were special. And it did make you feel special. Made you feel giddy. You were sure he could feel your heart pounding.

“Well don’t ever let anyone take you for granted like that.” You could still feel his thumb dragging over your thigh.

You finished your bite as he moved his hand from your face and asked a question you’d wanted to ask since you stepped into the kitchen, “Will you stay over?”

You didn’t know what had possessed you to ask this man to stay the night. Why you felt like you had to ask. Why you felt like you didn’t want him to just leave. Perhaps you were emboldened by the closeness of him. The way he was touching you and looking at you. You guessed it was because he made you feel a little more confident.

Harry smiled as he looked down your mouth and back to your eyes, “You want me to stay?”

You widened your eyes and let your gaze fall away from his face to the wall behind him and shrugged, “If you wanted.” Now the shame and embarrassment of rejection began to rise up your spine. Of course, he’d say no. What more would he need from you?

You heard Harry sigh and then he took your chin in his hand and moved your head to look at him, “I would love to stay the night with you. I just need to warn you,” he cleared his throat as you watched him intently, “If I’m in your bed next to you all night I’m going to have trouble keeping my hands off of you. Kind of like right now,” he smiled. “Is that going to bother you?”

You began to grin wider, “No. It won’t bother me. That’s kind of what I wanted.”

“Yeah? You wanted my hands on you?”

You nodded, keeping the smile on your face.

Both of your plates were empty as Harry put his hands on your hips and pulled your side flush to his chest, “Want me to fuck you, Y/n? Is that what you want?” His words were spoken against your ear.

You nodded and turned to look at him.

“Okay. You just need to be taken care of, don’t you?” He placed a hand on your jaw, his thumb rubbing down the side of your neck, “Poor thing was mistreated for too long. I’m gonna make sure you get everything you need, Y/n.”

You kept nodding as your brows pulled together. You didn’t realize how much you needed it. How much you’d been missing out on but Harry could see it. He recognized how unappreciated you’d been.

“I think you see it now, don’t you?”

“Yes. I think I do.”

Harry’s plush lips pressed into the space on your neck just under your jaw and you dropped your mouth open, tilting your neck back for him. You felt his arm wrap around your front as he slowly worked his mouth down your neck and then to the front.

When a moan rattled from your throat Harry placed his palm on the back of your neck and smudged his lips over yours before you opened your mouth to him.

You lifted your arm to bring it over his shoulder and twisted in to face him. You felt Harry’s fingers slip under your cotton t-shirt, fingers gliding up your skin until he found your breasts and ran his palms over your nipples.

The longer he played with your breasts, ghosting his fingers and knuckles over them, the more desperate you grew as his tongue pressed into yours. Chills rose over your skin and you shifted again, trying to get closer but it was impossible.

Harry parted from the kiss, “Let’s get you in bed under the covers. You’ve got goosebumps all over.”

You puffed out a laugh. The raised skin was definitely not from being chilled and you knew he knew it when he squeezed your tit and smirked down at you. Regardless, you wanted to get back in bed with him because after sucking him off you were quite turned on. No. You were very turned on. In fact, when you sat down in Harry’s lap you could tell your shorts were getting a little damp on the inside, and now that you’d shifted over his thigh on his boxer briefs, as you slid off his lap, you could see the small wet patch you’d made.

Harry kept his hands on your shoulders as he walked behind you to your bedroom and then he pulled your blankets back for you to climb in. You watched him get in next to you and pull the blankets over both of you before he dragged you against his chest and wrapped his arms around you.

The slow movement of his lips against yours and the dab of his tongue over your tongue felt like all you needed. The intimacy in the kiss was almost therapeutic. You’d been starved of affection, of spontaneity and Harry was just dousing you in it.

When you felt his hand travel down your backside and push underneath your shorts he palmed over your bottom softly before dragging his fingers down a little more and that’s when he felt how wet you were.

He smiled against your mouth, “Love how wet you get for me. Such a treat,” he ran his fingers through your folds and then pushed at your shorts to get them off.

You hurriedly helped him push them down your legs and then pulled your t-shirt off as Harry dragged his boxer briefs down his legs and kicked them off somewhere in your bed.

When you rolled to your side to face him you lowered your hand to his cock, already half hard as he pulled you in by the back of your neck to bring your mouth against his once again.

You stroked his shaft as he pushed his fingers through your folds, both moaning between kisses.

Shifting your hips you lifted your thigh to lay it over his and urged yourself toward him to move your cunt along his shaft. Harry hissed when he felt you wetting his skin.

Suddenly he pushed you to your back and he fit himself between your open thighs, taking your wrists and pushing them down to the mattress over your head, “You gotta be careful when you slide your wet pussy over my cock like that. Next time you do that I’m just gonna split you right open and fuck into you without asking first. But I’m trying to be gentleman tonight, Y/n.”

You screwed up your face and moaned, “That’s all I want, Daddy…”

Harry groaned dragging his shaft over you and you tilted your hips up so he could just press in and put you out of your misery.

Harry chuckled and let go of your wrists as he sat back and took his cock in his palm, painting himself up and down your drippy cunt, “You on birth control?”

You nodded, “Yes.”

“Want Daddy’s cock inside of you?”

You moaned another yes and bucked your hips toward him.

The grin on his face was almost sinister as he took your hands and pulled them down to the insides of your knees pressing your thighs back against your chest, “Hold yourself open like this for me.”

You gripped the back of your knees and kept yourself angled and spread for him, your knees pressed to either side of your tits when you felt him dragging his cock through your crease slowly, his eyes moving from your face to your pussy.

“Need some relief, Y/n?” He teasingly pressed his ruddy tip to your entrance, pushing slightly before sliding his cock upward to bump into your clit.

“Please, Daddy!”

That sinister grin widened as he lined himself back up to your hole, “Look at me. Want you to pay close attention to who’s fucking you.”

The slow press of his fat head through your slippery muscle had you both dropping your mouths open.

“Ohhh…” you gasped as you felt him sliding through your insides and then pull back to his tip. He nudged his way in again slowly, finding himself deeper every time he pushed his way in. You were wrapped around his cock tightly as he continued rearing himself back and then pushing forward, letting your body get used to his girth inch by inch.

The moment you felt him tucked in deep, pressing into your cervix you wiggled under him and whined as he stilled his hips, keeping himself lodged inside of you as his cock twitched in satisfaction.

He brought his hand up to your face and squeezed your cheeks, making your lips open wider and you automatically stuck your tongue out as he leaned over your face and spat into your mouth.

You rolled your eyes into the back of your head and moaned as you swallowed his saliva down your throat and then you felt him shift, his palms at the back of your thighs, pressing you down into the bed as he pulled out to his tip and then rutted his hips forward, burying himself into the hilt with one swift thrust. And then he did it again and again until you could hear the slap of his skin against yours as the bedsprings bounced loudly in time with his motions.

Harry watched his cock disappear into your cunt and then up to the sight of your tits bouncing every time he slammed into you.

Your moans were gurgled as you struggled to make use of your voice with how deep he was penetrating you and how hard he was going at it.

Your slick walls were so warm and inviting, so perfect for his cock to fuck into. He couldn’t believe his son wouldn’t want to give you what you wanted. Who would throw away the chance to have you the way he was getting to?

“God, look at you, baby…” Harry panted as he slowed his hips and ground into you sharply, “Perfect pussy for Daddy’s cock. Needs stuffed full like this, yeah?” He continued circling his hips against yours, his cock reaching into your guts, the wet sound lewd and dirty.

You looked at his face as he pulled back slightly and then pushed in again, pasting his hips against yours, and leaning over you.

He pulled your hands away from the backs of your knees, and urged your legs down, your feet hitting the mattress as he thrust, his thighs flexing as he worked himself in and out slowly, “How does it feel, baby?”

The new angle provided your clit with the much-needed friction you craved as his pelvis rubbed over you.

“Feels so good. You’re so deep…” you breathed your words.

Harry’s hand found your jaw and his thumb swiped over your lips as you opened and wrapped your mouth around his digit and began to suck immediately.

His deep plunges didn’t let up as he looked down at you with your lips around his thumb. He hadn’t intended for you to take it in your mouth. He just wanted to touch your pouty bottom lip as he fucked you but he loved how eager you were to suck on his thumb.

He let out a shaky breath as he pressed his balls against you and moved his hand away, “Fuck baby… Need all your holes filled don’t you?”

The squelch of his cock breaching your cunt was answer enough. You were so wet and desperate for him that he could feel it and see it in your face as you nodded with your brows scrunched.

His hand moved to your neck, fingers pressing tentatively into the sides of your throat as he rocked into you.

Your mouth parted and you let out a guttural moan at the feel of his hand on your neck. He wasn’t squeezing hard but it felt so hot knowing he could hurt you but wouldn’t.

“You do like that…” he breathed, the front of his thighs against the back of yours as he languidly plunged in deep, “Fuck, baby… you might just be perfect for me.”

Your sob came out choked as you clasped your hands around his forearm that held you down by your neck. You wanted to respond to him but all that you could manage was mangled gulps.

And your head began to spin when your body gave in to him. You handed yourself over completely to his whim as you looked into his eyes. All you wanted to do was to make him feel good, make him want more and more and more.

The gushy wetness of your pussy being fucked into gave Harry a good idea of how much you were enjoying him. How good his cock felt inside of you.

“Is that the spot, right there?” He moaned as he slid his dick through your cunt and felt the bump along your front wall, his tip pressing into it with each pass.

You gurgled as your lips gaped and he squeezed a little more, “It is, isn’t it? Daddy’s gonna learn all your yummy spots, inside and out. Yeah? You gonna let me do that, honey? Gonna let me stick my cock in every one of your little holes and find out what makes you tick?”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head again as you began to shake. You’d never been choked before and even though you could tell Harry was taking it easy on you, it felt like floating in fluffy clouds and tasting rich chocolate cream on your tongue. All of your senses were heightened, your heart hammered in your chest as your pussy fluttered around him nearing your release.

“Oh that feels good, doesn’t it? Listen to how wet you are… the way your pussy sounds taking Daddy’s cock.”

He loosened his grip on your neck and you gasped before moaning loudly, “Yes… please, Daddy… you feel so good… I need you…”

Harry groaned as his thrusts grew sloppy, “Yeah? Gonna be a good girl and come all over my cock? Come for Daddy, baby…” His words were panted and strained as he spoke.

His hips were glued to yours as he rutted himself inward, your clit smearing against him as he kept his balls pressed against your ass and you began to unravel under him with a loud moan.

He coughed out a groan as he watched you lose it under him with a loud cry and he gently constricted his fingers around your neck as you clenched over him.

He could feel you vibrating and gushing around him and he released your neck, placing his palms on the mattress next to your shoulders, and began to pound into you, fucking you through your orgasm as he moaned and cooed at you.

Long strokes of his thick cock, as you spasmed around him, sent you into outer space. The sound of wet sex and your creaking bed frame sounded in the room as you cried out.

Harry watched your pretty face as he railed into you with sloppy thrusts. But the moment your cries turned into soft moans and your tensed muscles began to relax as you came down from your high Harry slid his length out of your cunt and pumped his cock, spurting warm come on your tummy and your tits with a deep moan.

Your chest heaved as you watched his arm flex with each stroke of his cock and his abs clenched in his orgasm. You were still floaty and buzzy but you wouldn’t miss watching his face as he milked his cock, draining himself over your skin.

“Fuck…” he breathed as he watched his come paint stripes over your breasts.

It’d been too long since he’d had sex with anyone and you were quite the special treat. Young and pretty with a kinky side he didn’t find in most people he tried dating after his ex-wife. Even she wasn’t that kinky.

But you… You were perfect. He could give you what you wanted. Could show you things most men your age wouldn’t know about.

Harry let go of his cock as he breathed heavily and cupped your face, “You okay?”

You nodded and gave him a soft smile, your eyes lulling open and shut, “Yes, Daddy…” you whispered.

Harry grinned at how cute you were and pushed himself up and off the bed, “Stay right here angel. I’ll be right back.”

The next thing you knew he was wiping you up and kissing your arm and up your neck, “Such a good girl, Y/n.”

His soft words were like a tranquilizer. You could hardly keep your eyes open as he turned off your lamp and then climbed into bed behind you, pulling your back into his chest. All you knew was how warm his skin felt and how comforting his scent was as you sighed and allowed yourself to drift off in the calm of his embrace.

You had never slept so soundly in all your life. One moment you were dozing off and the next an alarm was going off and Harry was shifting behind you to tap his phone, making the noise stop abruptly.

You felt his mouth on your neck and then his whispered words were warm at the back of your ear, “I have to go, sweetheart.”

You groaned and pouted when you remembered it was Friday and you both had to work. In an ideal world, you’d have him stay all day in your bed with you. You pulled his arms tighter around your middle so he couldn’t get up.

You felt his chuckle bounce off your neck, “You're too cute. I don’t want to leave either but I have to. And you should get up too. It’s 7.”

Letting go of his arms he slid himself away from you and you sat up, feeling the slightest ache between your legs.

Reluctantly you stepped down from your bed with a frown and Harry tugged at your hand, pulling you toward him, “Don’t pout. If you want to see me again all you have to do is give me a ring. Yeah?” He raised his brows at you as you nodded.

“See? Pretty easy huh? Said your roommate’s out all weekend?” He smoothed his hands up and down your bare arms.

“Yeah,” you nodded and kept your eyes locked on his.

“Give me a smile, Y/n,” Harry smudged his thumb at the corner of your mouth and you slowly brought the edges of your lips up in a grin.

“There we go,” he gazed at your face, “We had fun. Didn’t we?”

“Yeah. That was fun,” you laughed, suddenly feeling shy.

Harry pressed his mouth to your cheek and then let you go as he picked up the clothes on your floor to dress himself. You slid your t-shirt on and watched him before following him out of your room toward your door.

He grinned at you, his hair was a mess and he had sleep lines on his face from being smushed into the pillow. You thought he looked so soft and sweet like this.

“You know what to do if you want to see me. Yeah?”

You nodded and smiled as he gave you a quick kiss before letting himself out your door.

A quiet squeal of glee fell from your mouth as you rushed to grab your cell phone. You pulled up your messages app and texted Harry right away.

Can you come over tonight?

PART 3

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[harstyle]

the styles’ nanny

Summary: Y/N is a twenty-three year old uni student and Harry is a thirty-six year old single dad. Y/N is a part-time nanny and Harry is her employer. Y/N thinks Harry is hot, and Harry… well, he’s a bit confused.

Pairing: plussize-nanny!yn + older-singledad!harry

Word-count: 7.3k

Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking and lashing out during an argument, no happy ending yet

A/N: I don’t know why I keep writing characters that start out insecure but I swear it’ll get better later!! Let me know if you want to read more, I’m thinking maybe three parts? Also, the fact that y/n is plus-size doesn’t really become a big deal in the story, but that was how I originally had her in mind so I’m leaving it that way. Hope you enjoy!

Y/N was twenty three. She was twenty three, and she used to love being twenty three. She used to love going out to party, the feeling of alcohol burning down her throat, the rush of palpable excitement when having sex with people she’d never met before. She used to love that. But she didn’t anymore.

And the reason for that? One Harry Styles.

It was ridiculous, of course; Harry had other companions he could turn to before ever settling on her— oh and not to mention, he was her boss. Yet, it felt daring, like that time she’d fallen in love with her biology teacher or looked differently at her camp instructor in high school. Authority figures did something to her brain, and Harry was no different.

But of course there was a lot at stake and she would never actually approach the idea; it was a fantasy at most. And she thought… as long as she didn’t act on her brain’s poisoning, it would be fine.

“Y/N, did you hear me?”

“Oh,” she was snapped back to her current state following the short distraction, the butter knife in her hand now seeming more dangerous than when she’d held it seconds before. “Sorry, Harry, what was that?”

She swore she could see an amused smile tugging at his lips for a brief second. She’d always wondered what he thought of her.

“Are you free next Thursday? I have this meeting until late and I doubt I’ll be home for dinner—I was thinking you could maybe put Jamie to bed? You can stay the night if it’s too late to catch a train, or just take the other car?”

Y/N’s work day at the Styles’ house ended at five pm most days in time for Harry to get home, but she did adore Jamie, so staying longer wasn’t remotely an issue.

“That’s okay, I can just stay the night like I did last time, if that’s alright?”

Harry had insisted when she’d begun working for him that she have a room in the house where she could take naps to rest or stay the night all together when it got too tiring to catch the train home, and the notion of it had pulled at her heartstrings. He was very considerate and that was rare in bosses.

Harry shook his head, waving her off with ease, “course it’s okay.”

“Great. I should get home, I have an important test coming up tomorrow. Am I good to go?”

He glanced at the clock, noticing how late it had gotten (he’d offered to cook dinner and Y/N had never been one to reject hot men’s company) and cursed quietly to himself. “I’ll drive you.”

“Oh no Harry, really, it’s okay!”

“It’s almost eight and I feel uneasy whenever I send you away in the dark. Sides, I’m sure Jamie will love a late road trip to your flat,” he reassured with a smile, standing up as if to restrict her getting a choice and starting to load the plates into the dish washer. “Grab your coat and I’ll wait by the door. I’ll get Jamie.”

Y/N did love the way he asserted his wishes to her, kind but dominant in his decisions. He didn’t let her deter him and she, for one, didn’t mind it at all.

“Okay, thank you.”

“No problem, love.”

—

“Can I please just get one scoop? Please?”

“I’m sorry, buddy, we just don’t have any ice cream! I would let you have it if we did, but we don’t. Is there any other snack you’re interested in?”

Jamie was being fussy today and Y/N couldn’t figure out why. He’d been happy when she’d picked him up from school, raving on about his art teacher’s praise on a drawing he’d done with the widest grin resting lazily on his small lips. It had been at around three that he’d started whining at her, not wanting to eat even though he’d requested the grilled cheese and flicking through about twenty channels until he’d finally settled on not watching anything at all. Y/N had figured he was tired, but he didn’t want to sleep either, so she was left thoroughly baffled trying to find ways to tame his mood.

But he wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop whining and crying, wouldn’t stop flailing his tiny arms and legs, wouldn’t stop pouting at her. Jamie had the best behaviour Y/N had ever seen on a boy, really, so this behavior worried her. “I just want ice cream!”

“Jamie, we don’t have any ice cream. How about I get you ice cream tomorrow, hm? And today we’ll have something else? Come on, remember how we learned about compromise?”

Y/N was trying, pulling Jamie into her lap to comfort him even though he didn’t care for any of it. His face was red and angry and nothing she said registered in his brain. He cried into her shoulder instead, gripping at her sides in terror. “You’re being mean to me.”

“Hey, that’s not very nice, I’m trying to help you bud.”

“Please, I just want ice cream.”

It was kind of cute how even in his state of devastation, he still managed to be polite to her.

“And I hear you, Jamie, but we don’t have any right now. Will you settle for Oreos? Or chocolate?”

He merely shook his head.

Y/N breathed a grateful sigh when she heard the front door being unlocked, still bouncing Jamie up and down in her lap in hopes that he’d settle down just a bit. She was sure Harry’d heard the crying from the front door because his steps were fast and his expression of concern clear.

“What’s wrong, bub?”

Jamie reacted with a devastating whine, calling for his dad and reaching his arms out begging to be carried. Harry shot Y/N a look of mixed confusion and apology, leveling the boy out from inside of her lap. He mouthed the question she knew he’d been thinking and felt bad when all she could offer in return was a shrug because she knew it wasn’t the ice cream anymore

Harry sung in whispers into his ear in the hopes of calming him, bouncing him around on the spot. He pressed kisses to his forehead, drawing circles on his back. It worked better than when Y/N had done it, Jamie’s sobs having soothed into few hiccups and sniffles.

Y/N couldn’t help but admire how naturally skilled Harry was at being a father. She knew a little bit of the history— his fiancée at the time leaving him for another man months after having given birth to Jamie and having to raise him by himself. He was a busy man and Y/N could often tell that he felt bad about being unable to do things like pick up his son from preschool or spend all day playing in the den, but he was still a better father than hers had ever been. He was a great father.

Not long after his crying had died down, Jamie fell asleep in Harry’s arms. Y/N finally breathed a sigh, relieved to catch a break. She loved taking care of Jamie, but jesus had today been hard. Harry carried him up to his bedroom, careful as to not bother him and advised Y/N to wait for him to come back.

Whilst Harry was putting Jamie to bed, she decided to clean up a bit. She went through the array of toys Jamie had taken out and discarded after a short minute of playing with them, and placed them back in the drawers. A smile tugged at her lips when she saw the dino plush toy she’d gifted him when she’d first started working for this family months ago— he still played with it all of the time. In fact, Harry had once sent her a photo of it sitting next to him in the car when they’d gone on vacation in the summer. She recalled tearing up because of it.

“Hi, sorry for taking so long.”

She swore she almost jumped in reaction to his thick voice, gripping the plush tightly against her chest in shock. Harry allowed himself a chuckle, raising his arms just enough to surrender. “Sorry, should’ve knocked.”

Y/N’s only response was a forced chuckle. It still felt weird to be in a room with him by herself, without the presence of a cute five year old to tend to. It was moments like these she felt guilty about fancying him. Most of the time Harry was merely a ghost around the house and whenever he settled back in, she would leave. She rarely ever had time to utter more than a quick ‘see you tomorrow’ and rush off home. It wasn’t like he was there, so her thoughts about him didn’t seem too off putting— now, with the company of awkward silence engulfing them, she couldn’t help but feel disgusted by herself.

“Think he’s getting sick,” he then added.

“Probably,” she agreed. “I don’t think I’ve seen him like that before so it was just a bit worrisome.”

“Yeah, he only really gets like that when he’s sick, so I think it’s safe to say… you’re alright, though?”

“I’m fine, just a bit worried, as I said.”

He smiled like he found that amusing, “he’ll be okay. Are you hungry? I was going to make pasta for dinner.”

“Oh, are you sure?”

Last time she’d had dinner here, Jamie had sat next to her. It hadn’t been just her and him.

“Yeah. Why don’t you put the dino down and we’ll go make it together?”

In an instant, her cheeks heated up. She hadn’t even noticed she was still clutching to it for support and figured he must’ve thought she looked so stupid welcoming the comfort of a plush toy. Another awkward chuckle escaped her as she threw it gently into its container, bucking down to lock it away as well as her memory of these last two minutes, hopefully.

Harry was a good cook, but that wasn’t really surprising at all— in fact, she couldn’t imagine there were many things he wouldn’t excel at. Y/N, on the other hand, she was terrible. She’d burned so many things in her apartments kitchen that she couldn’t keep count even if she tried. So naturally, he took the lead in every task she did, from cutting onions to seasoning the salmon.

“Wait, no, y’can’t— here,” she couldn’t help but giggle as he took the knife from her hands, cutting into the flesh himself. He huffed, but she knew it was teasing. “You’ve gotta learn how to cook.”

“I know how to cook basic things, just not some five star gourmet meal. I think you’d be surprised what I can do with some seasoning, eggs and tomatoes.”

“I have no choice but to take your word for it, do I?”

“Guess not. Can I do something else? I feel so useless.”

He clicked his tongue, not even sparing a glance her way. “Go sit on the counter and look pretty.”

And at first, Y/N didn’t know how to respond to that. Did she just… literally sit on the counter? Probably not. It was… a joke, right? How did he expect she would react to such a bizarre request? For a second the guilt she’d been feeling about potentially being unprofessional subsided in a flush.

Then he finally let his eyes settle on her and she just about fainted at what he had to say, “what? Do you need help getting up?”

She was 99% sure at this point that he just got off on pestering her, what with the dino, and now this? Prior to these last two weeks he’d never even spoken more than five words to her, and now he was inviting her to dinner. He probably found the confusion written all over her face amusing.

She could probably indulge a little then, right?

“Yeah, I do.”

He didn’t just laugh, though, like she’d expected him to— no, he ran his hands under hot water, wiped his hands on his (very) expensive trousers and walked toward her. He motioned to the counter as if asking her to get closer and—

“Wait, no, I can do it.”

He immediately stepped back, hands dropping from her waist and smirk molding his mouth.

“You can now?”

“Yes.”

He held eye contact for a few more beats before moving away with a solid nod.

What the fuck was that?

Y/N had expected him to dismiss her, uttering something along the lines of ‘I was only joking’, but that? Never would she have thought that that would be the response.

It was funny, too, because he never could’ve carried her up without at least a bit of struggle. She knew what he was used to— thin women, supermodels even, and she was neither.

So despite the confusion, she got up on the counter like he’d asked. On her own.

And when he’d started asking her about normal things like family and uni, Y/N slowly eased out of her awkward stance. She told him about her mother, her brother, and left her deceased father out of it. He smiled, nodding along to her words whenever the situation allowed it and kept his eye on the food.

A blink was all it took for him to announce dinner and the two of them sat at the table together, peacefully quiet.

It was around six thirty when the patter of tiny feet sounded through the house, from the stairs to the kitchen. Both of the adults waited patiently, eyebrows raised in surprise that the little gremlin had decided to wake up after only having slept for two hours.

“Daddy?”

Y/N almost melted at his sweet, buttery voice.

Harry hummed, “is that you, bub?”

He finally poked his head into the room, carrying a plush toy in one hand and rubbing his sleepy eyes with the other. He studied the room before settling his green irises (clone of his dad’s) on Y/N.

“Y/N, you’re still here.”

She smiled, a pity smile, and answered in a sweet tone, “I am, bud. Is that okay?”

He merely nodded, stalking closer. Harry pulled him up into his lap, kissing his forehead before letting him rest against his front.

“I wanted to apologize for being mean before.”

Her stomach did another flip.

Was this a dream, or did a five year old just apologize to her on his own incentive? She swore these Styles boys surprised her every day!

Her eyes flickered to Harry and she watched as a proud smile stretched his mouth. He met her gaze, the grin undeniably wide, and shrugged as if to say didn’t tell him to.

“That’s okay, Jamie, I understand you were frustrated. Are you feeling better?”

He nodded again, although it was weak and subtle, “my throats itchy.”

Harry’s smile faded with his confession and he pressed the back of his palm to his son’s forehead, “why’d you get out of bed, then, silly? You need to rest if you’re sick.”

“Missed you, daddy.”

She could see that same guilt she’d seen so many times before manipulate Harry’s features again, and her heart broke a little bit for him. She couldn’t keep track of the amount of times she’d wanted to just break and say you’re a wonderful father to him, but stopped herself in fear of overstepping.

Knowing he wasn’t going to say anything soon enough, too lost in his own thoughts, she went on for him. “Tomorrow is Saturday, Jamie, how about you go rest so you can have a full day with your dad tomorrow? S’not nice spending weekends sick in bed, as you know.”

In a manner that was so much more than cute, Jamie’s fingers trapped his chin to appear deep in thought, and then he nodded. “That makes sense.”

Y/N almost laughed, “doesn’t it?”

“Will you be here too, Y/N?”

Jamie knew very well that Y/N wasn’t here on Saturdays, so she guessed he was only implying that she should be. An invitation of sorts.

But she really couldn’t handle being around Harry on the weekends as well as on weekdays, so she shook her head gently, “no, but I’ll be back on Monday, is that okay with you?”

To show his dismay, he jutted his lip out in a pout. “Can’t you come over for lunch?”

Harry nudged him, “Jamie, remember how we talked about what Y/N does when she isn’t here with us?”

“School. But there’s no school on Saturdays!”

“She does school, you’re right. When you get older, there’s so much you have to do for school that it never stops, not even on weekends. And you know what else she does? She meets up with friends, she plays tennis, she goes shopping for groceries. There’s tons she has to do besides spend time with us, yeah?” He never met her gaze as he spoke to Jamie, and it was better that way— he’d probably have caught her loved up eyes if he dared to do it. He remember details about her she didn’t recall telling him about. As if it hadn’t been enough, he added onto it, “plus, I reckon she’d appreciate a break from us, huh? We’re definitely not the only boys in her life, so we should share once in a while. No matter how much we like having her around.”

It was almost magical, the connection Harry and Jamie shared with each other. Nevermind what he’d said to make Jamie understand (she definitely hadn’t missed that last sentence— or the idea of ‘other boys’ altogether), it just made her happy to listen to them converse. It was healthy, a bit serious when need be but mostly light and protective. He did everything in his power to preserve Jamie’s innocence, especially about his upbringing and the whole mother issue.

After a long train of thought, Jamie slowly nodded his small head, “okay. Fine. But I get you Monday! No other boys Monday through Friday.”

Y/N couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled from her mouth, incessant and silly. “Okay, Jamie, I promise I won’t let other boys come between us Monday through Friday, okay? Is that good for you?”

“Me and daddy, though. He’s the only other boy allowed.”

She giggled again, avoiding Harry’s gaze but nodding nonetheless, “sure. Daddy too.”

She felt Harry shift out of her periphery.

“Okay,” he finally settled, outstretching his arm across the table, “pinky promise?”

She did the same, but just before Jamie had a chance to interlink his much smaller finger with hers, she pulled back. “If I pinky promise you on this, will you pinky promise me that you’ll finally go rest?”

He hummed in agreement.

She welcomed the promise, letting her finger link with Jamie’s for a few seconds until he felt ready to let go.

“Now go lay down. I’ll see you Monday, okay?”

“Kay. Can I have a hug?”

“Of course,” she cooed at him, arms already outstretched the moment he’d climbed down from Harry’s lap. Jamie gave the best hugs, so she figured Harry would as well. She’d never gotten to test that theory, though. “Okay, good night.”

“Night.”

Jamie took slow steps (he was much like his father that way, taking his time in everything he did) and slowly disappeared into the main room, eventually stalking up the stairs as both Y/N and Harry listened for it.

“Thank you,” Harry then broke the silence. Her eyes flickered toward him, eyebrows drawing together in confusion, but a nervous smile playing on her mouth. “You’re so good with him.”

“It’s my job to be good to him.”

“It’s your job to take care of him, but you’re not… you’re doing much more than just be nice to him and I appreciate that. So thank you.”

“He’s a great kid, so… not a very difficult thing to do.”

The air had somehow become thick and unwavering, unspoken words wafting between their bodies across the table and back. Harry looked like he wanted to say more but his jaw stayed shut in place and she certainly wasn’t going to pester him about it. It was already difficult to keep in mind that despite the lighthearted dinner, he was still her employer, and that the boundaries they had been practicing since the beginning of her time here were slowly being blurred and tested.

So it didn‘t really matter what she felt whenever he spoke to her, she had to preserve herself and her position here.

She feigned a glance at the clock to justify looking away and sat up in her chair, “I should go home.”

His nod was curt, “okay. I’ll get the keys.”

“No, don’t worry, I have to stop by somewhere else before. I’ll manage.”

It was a lie, of course it was.

“Fine.”

As Y/N made her way back outside, she regretted declining his offer and the farther she walked away from the house, the more she thought about the things they could’ve talked about had she let him grab his keys and escort her home. If he would walk her to the door like last time, without Jamie in the car of course, and bid her a proper goodbye. How maybe, if they’d inched close enough, they would share a moment of hesitation before kissing. Her imagination ran wild with it and she knew that it wouldn’t really happen, but the chances would’ve been greater had she just been bad.

Shit.

—

Y/N was crying.

She was bursting into tears outside of a bar looking like a pathetic, lost idiot— and it just wouldn‘t stop. She couldn’t recall anymore what exactly she‘d expected before going into the date she‘d spontaneously agreed to as a result of her mother‘s pleas, but it certainly hadn‘t been such an embarrassing let down. Her shoulders slumped as she thought back on her date‘s words: I don’t see this going anywhere, but you’re a really nice girl. Friends?

And why was she crying? She was crying because she knew what he’d really meant was: you’re not my type at all, and this was a waste of my time. How did she know? The way he’d looked at her, with a sparkle of disgust in his eyes, the tone he’d used; pitiful and mean. How he’d looked at other, skinny girls while Y/N had been planted directly in front of him and lastly, how he’d left before the date had even ended.

Y/N hadn’t left the bar as soon as he had, no, she’d stayed until now; closing time. She’d drunk herself to exhaustion, pulling shot after shot and even worrying the barista who went to her psych class at uni. Before she’d known it, the clock had struck three am and four hours had passed since what’s-his-face had left her to rot in there.

She had no idea what to do, she could barely even form a thought. It didn’t matter that she’d been rejected— this wasn’t about that, it was about something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Since the beginning of time relationships had been sparse and dreadful, so another notch on her belt couldn’t have mattered so much as to bring her to a multitude of tears, but she did feel unlovable and undesirable in the way she had throughout all of her life. People had told her things would get better if she waited it out, but they’d lied. Guys were still assholes.

There was really only one person she felt like contacting, and that was Harry. He’d been on her mind all weekend. She’d been wondering if she ever crossed his mind, if for a sliver of a second he allowed himself to think about her in the way she thought about him, and felt a disgustingly sour taste in her mouth when she realized the answer had to have been no.

But Y/N was drunk, and people did stupid things when they were drunk— so without much afterthought, she used the remainder of her battery on dialing his number. He answered after the first ring and her mind wandered to question the plausibility of him being awake at this hour.

“Y/N?”

She was struck watching the road in front of her, unable to answer. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

What had she done?

“Y/N, is everything okay?” another wave of tears overwhelmed her senses and as a result, she sobbed right into the speaker, and heard shuffling on the other side. “Sweetheart, where are you? What’s happened?”

“This guy— he just— he was so mean and he left me here—“

“Where? Where are you? Who left you?”

“The viper.”

“Y/N, that place closed twenty minutes ago. Are you inside?”

“No, she… she said I need to get out, so I did, but I didn’t know where to go cause m’drunk, and I…” there was a pause in which she realized how stupid he must’ve thought she was, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay, listen to me. Please stay there, don’t move, and send me your location. I’m coming to get you.”

She had no fight left in her, so she nodded to herself. Harry didn’t see, obviously, but he hung up with the hope that she’d understood him clearly.

When he arrived not fifteen minutes later, he put his car in park and hopped out to find Y/N sat on the floor, a lazy smile pulling at her lips when she laid eyes on him.

“Harry, hi! I was just thinking about you!”

He said nothing, a tick in his jaw as he helped her up on her feet, grounding her stature. She nuzzled her head into his shoulder and he kept a steady beat to bring her to warmth as quickly as possible. Y/N got the idea, aimlessly buckling up and failing miserably until he offered assistance.

“Thank you,” she murmured to him, though he refused to give a verbal response. He merely nodded, jaw still locked in place before he closed the door. Y/N watched as he walked over to the other side and opened the door.

He drove in silence and Y/N tried to be okay with that. She stared ahead, mind still gloomy, with her lips jutted out in a pout. The silent treatment made her feel like a scolded child, like Harry was her angry father who refused to speak to her because she’d come home past her bedtime. She looked over to scan over his features, make sure the crease between his forehead had subsided at least a little, but it hadn’t.

After the longest minute of her life, she finally asked, quietly, “are you mad at me?”

And when he didn’t say anything, her heart dropped.

“Oh,” she whispered.

Y/N didn’t dare to say anything for the rest of the ride. When they got back, Y/N opened her own door and hopped out, refusing to wait for Harry to help. He sighed, she could hear, but she just slowly trailed after him.

“Up on the counter,” he grumbled, grabbing a glass of water to help sober up. She took it from his hand.

“Harry, I’m sor—“

“Drink the water.”

She almost flinched at his angry tone.

Y/N was halfway done with the glass when he scoffed, unable to bite his tongue any longer, “I’m angry because you were irresponsible. First you go on a date with some dickhead—“ she opened her mouth to protest, but failed to when he put up a finger to halt her, “then you get yourself drunk and sit outside of the bar alone in a stingy area. Something could’ve happened to you, then what?”

All Y/N could say was, “it didn’t,” and it was the weakest argument she could’ve thought of.

“It very well could’ve and you’d have your stupidity to thank for it.”

Her heart banged again. She didn’t like getting reprimanded by Harry, nearly at the end of her rope anyway. She‘d never seen this side of him before, stern and miserly. Clearly Y/N had only really seen one version of him and had gotten lost in the illusion of it all.

In a last attempt to make him understand, vulnerable and naked, she let herself sniffle, “I don’t think anyone is ever going to love me.”

She‘d expected it to pull at her heartstrings more than it ended up doing— ironically enough, she felt fine confessing to him. Maybe it was the fact that she‘d bottled it up for so long that it was nice to finally admit to it, to allow somebody else to step into her shoes. Of course, every confession came with a tinge of embarrassment (it wouldn’t be a confession otherwise), but this one was still manageable. And yeah, maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her system, but who cared?

“What?”

“No one loves me. I’ve never… guys have never liked me enough to want to brag about it, or keep me around for longer than a month, and… and I do get it, cause I come with a shit ton of baggage, but it just… it takes a lot to be motivated about things that way. I’m twenty three and I’ve barely experienced what it means to love someone and actually have them love you back.”

The display of vulnerability floated heavily through the air.

He was silent for a second. He did that sometimes, she noticed, especially when he was processing things.

Once he did open his mouth, though, he knew exactly what to say, “you can’t let some immature boys get to you like this, you hear me? Tell me one good asset the guy you went on a date with had.”

Y/N shook her head, not because she couldn‘t have if she‘d thought about it hard enough but because she had no energy to continue this conversation any longer. He wouldn’t get it

“See? No guy is worth crying over, especially not on some dirty pavement outside of a bar.”

He truly did have a point there, she supposed.

But it wasn’t just about that, so she told him exactly that— well, at least tried to, “it’s more than… I don’t… I don’t feel good enough.”

“You’re being a bit silly, sweetheart.” She registered how sweet he’d gotten again, finger brushing against her knee and features softening just enough to convince her of safety. He probably felt bad for her. “You’re plenty good enough.”

“Y’don’t get it,” she murmured, “you don’t understand what it feels like to get rejected solely because of your looks.” Y/N had always felt slightly weird talking about her appearance with people who weren’t her closest friends, and even then she felt judgment coming from them. Each time they asked if she would come clubbing with them to score boys, she was never able to honestly express that she‘d never wanted to go because it was always her who was left riding home in an uber alone. And it wasn’t like she felt ugly— in fact, there were instances she felt so confident nobody could’ve told her anything, but then there were those few others… and her whole system came down crashing.

“What do you mean?”

He couldn’t be so daft, could he?

“You’re— you just don’t fucking get it, okay? It’s… whatever, I don’t care.”

That took some courage too, courage she only registered after having uttered the words, but she couldn’t say it. She couldn’t mutter the words this guy didn’t fancy me because I’m fat, because she still had more class than that— even drunk. Ever the childish, pouty person she was, she had more shame than that.

She buried her face in her hands, breathing out, “I’m sorry. Sorry, that was rude of me.”

“It’s fine,” he placed a warm hand on her thigh, thumb stroking soothingly. With a sympathetic look in his eye (confusion too, she guessed), he tried to pacify her concerns, “you need sleep, everything will be better when you wake up.”

He was probably right about that.

“Okay.”

As he escorted her up the stairs, she couldn’t help but let her eyes trail over his features, watching as they hardened and softened based on the turmoil occurring inside of his mind. She wanted to reach in there and grab onto clues, grasp an understanding of the workings of him, but he made that nearly impossible. She would look away if he caught her eye, cheeks heating up every time she was captured by his darkened green irises.

He opened the door, allowing her to take the first step. She didn’t really need the help, but she couldn’t complain when his hand posed on the small of her back so he could maneuver her onto the sheets.

“Do you want a change of clothes, Y/N?”

“Um, if you have something?”

She doubted there was anything in his huge closet that would fit her in the way she preferred, but the idea of spending the night in jeans was just as dreadful, so she took the chance and nodded.

He came back later with a stack of clothes perched on his left hand, the other holding another glass of water. “Anything else?”

Y/N paused for a moment to think and shook her head, “no. But just—“ she swallowed around the lump in her throat, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

She couldn’t believe the words she spoke next, no thought invested into them: “will you come into bed with me?”

Time refused to pass, the ball was in his court.

When he gave a subtle nod, it was like god and the universe were sending good karma her way. Her compensation for the night. “Just until you fall asleep.”

Y/N scooted to the other edge of the bed, reaching down under the blanket to rid herself of her jeans and pull on those grey sweatpants. Surprisingly enough, they fit extremely well. Harry laid down over the blanket (to prevent getting too comfortable, probably) and perched himself onto his forearm.

Another bold wave met with Y/N’s courage as she reached out her hand to trail over his chest. Harry swallowed thickly.

“You’re really nice t’me.”

“You deserve to be treated well.” The snort that left her was completely involuntary, but it still made Harry frown. “You do.”

“Everyone does,” she later mumbled in agreement. He seemed to dislike the way she’d surrendered, though, because he did that thing with his jaw whenever he was ticked off.

What he didn’t like was the implication behind her tone that she only deserved respect because everyone did, regardless of her own character. She was disregarding her beauty and her kindness, her character, and reducing it to a commodity when it wasn’t.

He’d always had difficulty expressing his feelings, though, so he stuck with silence. Stone cold silence.

It pertained for five more minutes until he watched as sleep slowly overtook her figure, peaceful breaths cascading from her mouth. She looked so pretty asleep; relaxed, void of concerns and the crinkle in her forehead from tonight’s events dissipating into its initial form.

He wondered if she’d ever given him other implications of being an insecure girl— if she had, he’d caught none of them. He never would’ve thought somebody so effortlessly beautiful and kind as her could think to deserve less on such extreme levels. It made him wonder if anyone had ever treated her as she deserved; he noticed once that whenever she spoke about her family, she failed to mention her father. It seemed men had disappointed her in more ways than one.

There was inner turmoil bothering him. He didn’t know what he was feeling for his child’s nanny, but there was surely no other woman he felt as eager to take care of— picking her up, driving her home, clearing a room for her.

It was terrifying to allow himself these few minutes of observing her because he feared the impure thoughts which would cross his mind. Not perverse, but intimate. She deserved more than him, he was sure of it.

He left the room after another five minutes, trying to be as subtle as possible as he walked to the door. It was later than four am, so he stopped by his son’s room to check on him. When he saw nothing out of the ordinary, he finally carried himself to his own bedroom.

He would lie awake until sunrise.

—

Y/N had never woken up so panicked before, chest heaving and mind elsewhere entirely. Her head was pounding and her heart rate palpable, she was sweating all over and she could only recall last night in small, blurry tidbits.

God, and she had to face Harry. On a Monday morning.

After maybe ten minutes of lying around and procrastinating, she finally moved herself out of bed. She pulled on her clothes from last night, drank the water that was situated on her nightstand and tidied up in the bathroom before going to search for him. She looked upstairs— no trace of him, so she cascaded down the stairs and made her way to the kitchen. On the way there, his office caught her eye. The door was cracked opened and at a closer peek, she saw him sitting at the desk with his hand buried in his hair, mumbling something. She knocked, he flinched.

“God, Y/N, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” she gave a sheepish smile, “are you busy?”

“I—“ he sighed, shaking his head. It was when he spoke into the phone lying on his desk that she realized he’d been one a phone call. Before she could backtrack, he’d muttered an ‘I’ll call you later, Stace’ to them and hung up for her. She stood there, fingers interlaced in front of her body and balancing on the balls of her feet in intimidation.

He didn’t look happy either, and that was probably because ‘Stace’ was Jamie’s mother. She would call every few months, he’d told her, and cause some sort of havoc— from wanting to talk to Jamie on the phone to wanting to see him in person. When asked why he didn’t like letting her see Jamie, he’d given Y/N a very vague answer; wouldn’t do any good. She’d settled with that back then, having sensed the energy shifting.

Y/N felt bad for him now, the stress assuming control of his features almost overwhelming to look at.

He was already glancing up at her expectantly, but the words disappeared from her brain and all she wanted to do, really, was comfort him.

“I— are you okay?”

It was a visceral reaction he had to those few little words, the furrow in his eyebrow deepening, “yes, why?”

“Because… well because you were talking to Stacie on the phone—“

His scoff interrupted her pity stutter, “so you’re listening in on my conversations now?”

Oh, she was no longer sorry; she was scared. “No! No, I’m not, I swear! I was walking past looking for you and I heard you mumble something, I don’t— I would never…” and he must’ve known that. He must’ve known that she would never, ever listen in on his conversations, nor try to overstep the line by doing that (obviously she’d fucked up last night, but aside from that). He knew her, he’d trusted her for long enough for her to know that he knew that, so his accusation ticked her off.

But he looked terrifying right now; eyes dark, eyebrows furrowed, closed off stance, and nothing like the Harry she’d gotten to know well. And she had no idea if it had been last night or this that had finally pushed him over the edge.

“So why bring it up?”

“Because you— because you’ve talked about it before and I was just— I wanted to check on you!” She was stuttering like an idiot, she was aware, but with her comfort bubble gone, her speech wasn’t a reliable asset anymore. She’d always been terrible at communication and even worse at confrontation. And he must’ve known that because he was using it to his advantage— and that was mean, because he knew she would never. He knew. Didn’t he?

“It’s not professional, Y/N, but I’m sure you know that. I’m sure you know that last night wasn’t either, but you keep fucking pushing me.”

And that… well, was partly right.

“I know last night wasn’t…” she shook her head, “it wasn’t professional, I know that. I don’t know why I called you, I don’t get it either, it just happened, really, and I wanted to apologize. I understand if you—“ she peered down toward her hands, swallowing the lump in her throat, “if you don’t feel comfortable with me being here anymore. With your son, I mean, I’d totally understand.”

Y/N thought that was quite sensible of her. Of course, if she could get a chance to have a repeat of last night, she would take it in a heartbeat— but she couldn’t, so this was all she could do. She loved working here, giving it up would hurt, but she understood if that was what needed to be done.

“You just… you can’t fucking call me at three am in the morning drunk off of your arse—“

“I know that—“

“Clearly you don’t!” And she detested how his voice raised. “And clearly you don’t get that there are things you just can’t talk about; like Stacie, or your own relationships, or whatever the fuck else you’ve brought up to me.” If she felt like a scolded child yesterday, then she’d had no idea how bad it could get. “I’m your— I’m your employer, not your fucking therapist. I’m not here to clean up your fuck-ups, pat you on the head and tell you it’s alright.”

Her eyebrows furrowed because she knew that too, and she found it borderline preposterous that he would imply she didn’t.

There was a 180 here, and she was becoming less and less understanding.

“I told you I don’t know why I called you, Harry, I don’t know! What am I supposed to say? I was terrified and sad and don’t ask me why, but you’re the only person who actually gets what I’m talking about half of the time, so it just happened!”

“You act like I’m somehow responsible for you.”

Her frown deepened; she hated the notion that he had to take care of her in some way, as if she was incapable of it on her own account. “On what basis? I think you might be pressuring yourself into that, Harry, because it’s fucking ridiculous. I never made you do anything.”

He released a frustrated breath, “you have to stop worming your way into our lives— you’re our nanny, that’s it. You don’t ask me about my personal life, you don’t call me in the middle of the night to make me worry and you don’t ask me to get into bed with you.”

“You act like I don’t know that!”

“Evidently you don’t.”

“Yes I d—“

“Just—just stop. Stop talking.”

It shut her up. It did not only that, the increase of his volume had made her flinch on the spot. She wasn’t a fan of confrontation, as mentioned before, but what she despised even more was yelling. She couldn’t stand yelling, fighting, accusations being thrown in the air with no regard to anyone’s feelings. It was an extremely sensitive thing for her and she definitely hadn’t expected to experience it with him today.

Y/N saw him a little differently in this light. The sternness with which he delivered those words, strict and mean, reminded her of her childhood. He saw her weakness, saw the stress she was under, and did nothing to relieve the situation. Instead he’d yelled at her.

Her hand was shaking a little and tears were forming in her eyes. She couldn’t let him see it, though, the weakness. She couldn’t allow him to see that a simple instruction had made her want to cry.

“I can’t deal with you today, Y/N, so please just… just go.”

She left without another word— straight up turned around and closed the door behind her with shaky hands. She couldn’t stand him right now, but even more she couldn’t stand herself.

She’d fucked up so badly.

And maybe… maybe she needed to quit.

-

part two!

And there we have it! don’t hate me for that ending it was necessary!

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles concept #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles series

[lemoncrushh]

Tattooed Heart - Story Page

SUMMARY: You are a cocktail waitress at a swanky lounge. Harry comes in one night, and you instantly dislike him. But another encounter eventually changes your opinion.

PAIRING: Waitress Y/N x Artist/Tattoo Artist Harry

TROPES: Enemies to Lovers

MUST BE 18+ TO READ

WORD COUNT: 34k+

Originally requested by @victoria-styles. Repost from 2023.

FEEDBACK IS LOVE

PART I

PART II

PART III

PART IV

PART V

PART VI

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles series #harry fic #harry fanfiction #harry fan fiction #harry smut #harry x reader #tattoo artist harry #harry series #harry x yn #enemies to lovers #asshole!harry #artist!harry

[shawnxstyles]

baby honey 2

DATE: NOVEMBER 5, 2023

summary: you and harry need to talk. so, you do. along with other things.

song: Fantasy- the driver era

words: 7.2k

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [oral, choking], daddy kink, slight dumbification, mentions of voyurism/exhibitism [not clearly stated] and porn, protected sex, dirty talk!!), language, and a very blunt y/n.

note: i actually got a part two out not that long after the first part?? omg?? monumental moment here guys. enjoy! PART ONE!

secret pornstar!harry x secret pornstar!y/n

—

DaylightDaddy [verified]: What are you doing to me?

You were waiting by your computer for the longest sixteen minutes of your life. That’s how long it took Harry to watch your less-than-ten-minute video and then text you back. Your heart, which was still flat on the floor of your stomach, leaps excitedly when it sees Harry’s message on your computer screen.

That message alone verified to you that DaylightDaddy was indeed Harry. Of course Harry would bring back his infamous saying at a time like this. You wanted to ditch the conversation on this website and text Harry personally. You also wanted to go to his house and pounce on him for being ridiculously attractive and vulnerable. You were an idiot by not saying anything yesterday and he was an idiot by being so blunt and angry. You both could have ruined not only your friendship but your chances at being something more by not talking. Communication is key, yet you’re still locked.

Why?

Maybe because somewhere in the dark crack of your heart, you’re terrified that you’ll be vulnerable to a man that’s six years older than you just for him to say that he doesn’t actually like you. He just likes your breasts and the idea of sleeping with you.

But that’s not Harry, right?

Without responding to his message, you grab your phone that has been forgotten on your floor. The second you sent that video to him you chucked it across the room and hoped for the best. It seems as though it worked, but at the same time, there is still so much unsaid with Harry. So many feelings you need to work out. But first, you need to talk and figure out how you both actually feel. Is it just lust? Is it just the fact that you two work together? Or is it something more?

Y/N: harry

He texts you almost simultaneously.

Harry: Y/N

Your fingers freeze at the keyboard. Even though you were just talking to him, how do you bring up such a serious conversation. We need to talk? Or I need to talk to you? They both sound bad.

Harry: Are you working today?

You and Harry both know damn well neither of you works. Him asking this question just seems like he’s continuing to avoid you, and avoid the inevitable conversation that you guys need to have. Did your video not spark a lightbulb in his head? How can he not tell that you do feel whatever he feels? Maybe even more…

Y/N: i am not, but i think you know that

Y/N: can we talk? are you busy?

You know he’s not busy, but that doesn’t make his reaction any scarier.

Harry: I’m free

Harry: Do you want to come over

It was one of the scariest texts he’s ever sent. After what just went down between you two, inviting you over could mean anything. It’s clear there’s a strong attraction connecting you both, but there is also a lot of murky water that needs to be cleaned.

Y/N: yes

Harry: Let me pick you up

That stubbornness inside of you that Harry is all too familiar with wanted to fight him. To tell him that you are more than capable of driving yourself, even though you only have Penny’s car for one more day. But him suggesting to pick you up showed his desperation to see you. And maybe that was a good thing. Maybe the forward action instead of the backing away was what you two needed.

Y/N: okay

Y/N: give me an hour!!

You needed time to think about it of course.

—

Within that hour, you were going crazy. You took a warm, hard-pressed shower in order to massage all the tension in your body and hopefully in your mind. You thought about every possible scenario about seven thousand times, hoping that you’d get it right. This time, you planned to say the right words and not stand there like a fucking statue when faced with his vulnerability. This time, you were going to be vulnerable too, because you’ve never had a chance at something more like this before. And you don’t want to ruin it just because you’re afraid. How lame is that?

While you were waiting for Harry to text you, you pace around the room. Your eyes averted to your computer that was still lying on your bed, and the only thing you could think about was your conversation with Harry. Not only had he called you attractive but he compared your beauty to everyone on the website and still said you were the most attractive. Was that just him flirting? Or was he being serious? You wondered if Harry really felt that way about you and you hoped you would find out soon.

On that thought, you never even checked if his money went through. You know the second that it does you’ll be giving it right back to him. So, while you’re still waiting, you open up your bank app on your phone. Even though you’re sitting on your bed now, your leg is still bouncing up and down, anxiety infiltrating your blood like the most insane drug.

When you finally comprehend the number that is present on your screen, your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. You blink a couple hundred times before briskly checking your most recent transactions. In neon green letters an extravagant $2000+ appears in front of you. Your hand jaggedly and slowly finds its way over your agape mouth, bewildered at Harry’s extreme act. What on earth would cause Harry to willingly send you that much money? Yes, you have complained about your financial situation, but you also clearly denied Harry of a loan. Now, you have to send his money back and it’s going to be really awkward. Another thing you have to add to your list of “Things to Talk Through with Harry”. Just as you close the app, Harry texts you that he’s at your place.

–

“Hey,” You manage to cough out as you slide nervously into his passenger seat.

“Hey,” Harry replies with a thick swallow. His grip on the steering wheel changes from intense to loose every few seconds before he starts the car.

There’s a low hum on the radio along with his air conditioning blowing cool air towards you. But other than that, no one had said a word. You peek over the dashboard a few times to see the road, wondering how far Harry lives from you and how quickly you can get out of this car. You hoped when you got to his house that this unbreathable, anxious tension would have died down, so you two can finally sort this shit out.

As a few more minutes pass by, you realize that you hate this. You hate the awkward silence that’s dawning over your friendship and making you overthink every single word. It’s never been like this with Harry, ever. You’ve never had to second-guess your late-night conversations and he never had to restrain his friendly charm. This, this tension, is unlike both of you.

You have to talk. Maybe you should mention the money?

“I know y’want to say something. Just say it, please, I can’t stand this awkwardness,” Harry blurts out as he stops at a red light. You inhale and blink, suddenly feeling a bit more alive with the sound of his voice.

“I looked at my bank,” You said, looking down at your lap. You were already being shy and you haven’t even got to the actual vulnerable stuff yet. What is wrong with you?

“Have you?”

“Yeah, and I saw the money you gave me.”

“Good.”

“Harry, you know I can’t take that,” Now, you turn your head towards his, which is safely facing the road. But you know he sees you and you know he’s stressed with your stubbornness.

“But you already did. It’s in your account, yeah?”

“Okay, but–”

“I don’t understand why you won’t take my money. Is it not good enough for you or somethin’?” Harry’s voice has become more agitated, making his last turn a bit sharper. You see him take a deep breath as he pulls into a driveway of a nice house. It was nice because the lawn was green and cut and the color of its walls were a pleasant cream color with a smooth navy blue as its border. It wasn’t the biggest house ever, but Harry was more practical than that. He didn’t need some huge, showy house in order to seem cool. Harry was already cool, whether he knew it or not.

“All money is the same, you doy.”

“You didn’t want it when I said I could loan it to you. Then I found a way to give it to you because you earned it and you still won’t take it. How does that make sense?”

“That’s different!”

“How is that different?”

“You of all people should know!”

Harry groans out of frustration and gets out of the car. “Let’s just get in the house.”

You follow suit, shutting the car door a little more roughly than you thought. Before you know it, you’re in his house and it’s just so Harry. His furniture is smooth; all browns and woods. He had pictures of his family scattered along with abstract art. By his decently sized television is a large record player next to an impressive case of vinyls. He even has a miniature bookshelf full of books that would probably bore you, but it still fascinates you.

“What, have you never seen a house before?”

“Don’t get all snappy with me. We were supposed to talk.”

“You make it difficult.”

“Why? Because I won’t take your money?”

“That doesn’t help,” he crosses his arms before dropping to sit on his couch. Again, you follow him, but keep your distance. You don’t miss the way his house smells just like him; a homey breeze of fresh air with a sprinkle of nature. It was earthly and friendly and charming. Just like him. “But it’s your stubbornness.”

To be fair, your stubbornness is one of Harry’s favorite traits about you. But it’s also the one that gets under his skin the most. He admires the way you can stand up for yourself and you know how to get exactly what you want. But he’s noticed that your need for independence interferes with your other desires.

“I can’t help it. I was born to fight,” You sighed out, lying against the couch cushions. “At least that’s what my dad always says.”

“I don’t want to fight, Honey,” The new nickname has rows of shivers cascading your skin. You feel a tingle in your stomach that you get when he says something charming or flirtatious. It’s impossible to fight the butterflies and heart pulses he gives you.

“Me either,” You take a deep breath, just like you did in the shower and just like Harry did in the car. This was your time to be vulnerable, to be first. You wanted to show Harry that you cared and that you weren’t just being stubborn to be annoying. You loved when you guys would close together, even if you consistently told him you would do it yourself. You loved the late-night talks you would have while cleaning up the bar, talking about anything and everything in order to waste time. You were endeared that Harry always walked you to your car in the early morning after the doors were locked just to make sure you were safe. You missed the way his hands felt on your arms when he caught you and the feeling of his chest pressed closely to yours. Friends don’t crave like that. No, because you weren’t friends. You were more and you both knew it. You cared about him and you appreciated his care for you. Shit, you freaking liked him and it took you both revealing your secret identities to prove it. Even if you two haven’t technically talked about it.

“H…”

“Y/N.”

“Everything you told me that night. Was it true?”

There was a weighted beat. One that was long and heavy enough to shatter the earth.

“Yes, of course it was. Why would I lie about that?”

“I don’t–” You turned to face him. “I’m not…good at this stuff. I don’t randomly hook up with people or go on dates. I especially don’t go to their house after sending them a video of me orgasming to confess my feelings to them.”

Harry blinks. He didn’t think you would mention it so vulgarly, but maybe he doesn’t know you like he thought he did. But he would like to. He doesn’t sound like you’re accusing him of doing those things, more of just you warning him about yourself. Harry does extract the little hint of your words and uses them to interrogate you.

“Feelings. What feelings?”

“Well, currently I’m frustrated–”

“Y/N,” his voice of seriousness causes your eyes to drop into your lap. You fiddle with your thumbs like a nervous kindergartener on their first day of school. It wasn’t like you to get so shy. You were a bartender for a living; you couldn’t be shy. But you just haven’t reserved these types of feelings for someone in so long it feels foreign. It feels as though you’re stretching outside of your comfortable zone and forcing you to be sheepish with your eyes down.

“Fine. I like…our friendship. A lot. But this week made me realize that I want more than that. With you,” You peer up at him through your eyelids, hoping not to see his face cringe with disgust at your words. But Harry’s face is flattened straight with nothing but the intent of listening. He even has a sparkle of softness in his eyes that makes your heart lurch out to him. He cared, and it showed in his features. Your mom always told you that people’s real emotions were always revealed on their face, and it was written like a love letter over his.

His patient silence makes you want to fill it with some type of conversation due to the uncomfortableness with your sudden vulnerability. Skittishly, you swallow in an attempt to coat your dry throat. “But I haven’t got much further than that. I know that I’m attracted to you. I mean, fuck, you saw the video, right? I probably didn’t even need the bullet–what did I just say? That’s not what I wanted to say. I wanted to say that I don’t want this to just be an attraction because I don’t think I could handle that. That felt good to say. I think I’ve said “say” too much and now it sounds weird…”

“I feel that way too,” he replies, the smallest curve of his lip breaking the straight line. He adores the way you rant when you're nervous, it is now a new thing he is adding to his list. He loves making you nervous because you give him little details about yourself. “Thank you for finally getting the balls to tell me. Took you long enough.”

You didn’t expect him to say that. You didn’t practice that in the shower! “Me?! You were the one who was avoiding me!” You were shouting, but it was all fun now. A laugh followed as a bright smile crept on your face. Something like a weight felt lifted off your shoulders, off your chest.

“But who said something first?”

“You said you liked my breasts and that you get jealous easily. Doesn’t seem like you were confessing any feelings,” You jokingly roll your eyes as he scoots closer to you.

“Why would I get jealous if I didn’t like ya? Thought I made tha’ obvious.”

“Could have been more. Then we could have avoided this all together.”

“You probably would’ve just stood there with y’mouth open.”

Your mouth indeed falls open as he laughs, his comment causing you to gasp in joking offense. You take that moment to punch his shoulder, but his hand catches your wrist during the movement. Your laughs are halted when you both realize how close you are; your thighs were touching and his face was only a few inches from yours. The whiff of his scent gave you flashbacks to last night when he caught you and you were pressed perfectly against his toned chest. Thinking of his chest made you remember the videos you saw online and how addicting they were to watch, especially after you found out it actually was Harry. Now, you know how porn addicts come to be.

Unintentionally, you lick your lips while looking at his. You don’t miss the way he does the same, glaring at your lips like he’s starving and their his last meal. Your lips have haunted him ever since your first day; painted in red and screaming fierce. The way you smiled was mesmerizing to Harry, but you could say the same about Harry’s effortless charm. It’s been too long dreaming and imagining your lips on his own. Now, with everything out in the open–besides the whole porn star thing, which is for another time–maybe he can finally kiss those lips. Kiss them so well that he ruins any other man for you in the bar, in school, in porn, in life. Staring at your lips made Harry think crazy things. He can’t even imagine the filth his brain will conjure if he sees your naked body in real life.

He’s getting too ahead of himself.

“You smell good,” You whispered, forcing yourself to break the pressing tension. You two were slowly inching towards each other, so he could feel your words float over his own lips like a ghost. He hums at the feeling and the compliment. “Like a forest.”

“How long are we gonna sit like this until I can kiss ya?” The statement made your cheeks blaze with fire and your stomach tumble.

Clearly you were both done beating around the bush.

“I was waiting for you to ask! What if you didn’t want to? You know how important consent is too–”

But Harry doesn’t wait for you to stop your incessant rant. He smashes his lips to yours like he’s been dying to all this time. Your lips mush together, creating a warm, gooey feeling inside of your stomach. Harry releases your wrist and slides his hands down to your waist and carries you over to his lap. You gently bite down on his bottom lip seductively, causing him to groan against you. His rough hands pinch the skin of your hips, making you squeak in his mouth. He uses the opportunity to slide his tongue in, exploring your mouth like its new land on earth.

It’s been so long for you, you can barely remember the last time you’ve been kissed. But you know for damn sure it was never like this. It was never this fiery, this passionate, this wanted, this needed. Kissing Harry was like drinking water after being dehydrated; so obsessively satisfying, you can’t get enough. Until you drink too much and then your stomach hurts, but you doubt that will happen.

Harry can feel himself growing impressively hard underneath you. Even with you above him fully clothed has his body and mind going haywire. He’s not sure how far this is going to go, but he’s also not sure how long he’s going to last. Shit, if you even palm his bulge he might come.

And you thought he didn’t want this.

Your hands around his neck slide their way down his chest as his grip on your hips gets tighter. He pushes you closer, making you arch your back until your breasts are pressing against his chest. The abrupt movement causes the kiss to break, a breathless gasp eliciting from your swollen mouth.

“Jesus,” Harry huffs out.

“What?”

Harry ignores your question. “What do y’want?”

“You…? I thought I made that pretty clear–”

“Don’t be a smart mouth. Or I’ll put it to good use,” His threat sends a tingle straight to your core, which was covered by your soaking underwear. Just the idea of him forcing you on the floor to take his cock in your throat was erotic enough for you to get off of. Actually doing it might make you come on the spot. “What, you like that?”

“What if I do?”

“Then I can make it happen, baby.”

“But what if I want something else more?”

“Say the words.”

You hesitated. As a porn star, you’re pretty good with dirty talk. In the past, you have had no problem whispering sweet, seductive words. But Harry has your tongue tied, brain mushy, and body gooey.

“I want you inside of me.” You were straight-forward. Honest. After this whole ordeal with you two, you figured you both deserved some relief.

“I’ve been waiting too fuckin’ long for those words.”

Without wasting another minute, Harry lifts both you and himself off the couch. You make a little squeal sound before grabbing on tight to him so you don’t fall. When you somehow get to his bedroom, you’re gently tossed on his bed with a smile hanging from your lips. Harry climbs over you and immediately tugs the hem of your shirt.

“Please take it off.”

You did not need to tell him twice.

Harry did just as you asked as quickly as possible because you two were both getting a bit desperate. Like before, Harry loves edging and teasing and being in control. And one day, he’s going to do it all with you. But right now, he just needs to be inside of you, as selfish as it sounds.

Once he flips your shirt off, you’re brisk to clip off your bra. Goosebumps pimple along your skin in anticipation of what’s to come as Harry’s eyes flit over your body. He swallows harshly, mind swimming in a thousand thoughts that were all related to you. His searing gaze only makes you more flushed with heat, elbows sinking into the mattress while you wait for him to do something. You push yourself up and tug the end of his T-shirt.

“Well, what is it? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“‘Cause you’re really here.”

“That is so sweet, but please, fuck me first. I need it.” Maybe his searing gaze also gave you a newfound confidence that allowed you to say what was actually on your mind. His intense stare made you feel powerful. Like you were in control.

“Jesus Christ, we have to fix that mouth,” he growls as you slide off his shirt over his head while he kneels on the edge of the bed. You don’t even get another word in before he’s crashing his lips back onto yours in another heated kiss.

It’s not much different from the first one–maybe a little more sloppy because you’re both getting needy. Both your mouths are sloshed together with sparks tingling on your tongues. Those sparks are igniting flames within your souls, making the stress and yearning worth it. Everything felt worth it when you two were this close together.

With the same passion, Harry forces himself away from your mouth and down your neck. He’s not gentle with his teeth, nibbling with each peck of your skin he passes. Each nick injects excitement through your veins, turning you on more than you would like to admit. You already know that there will be little marks because your skin is so sensitive, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You actually are endeared by a bunch of little marks rather than a few huge ones. Maybe you can pass the miniature hickies off as freckles…

When Harry gets to your breasts, he wants to stop and stare. Take a few long minutes to just encompass the beauty that is in front of him. But he assumes you don’t want to be ogled anymore, since he was standing still and gazing at you like a teenage girl taking a picture of a pink sunset. So, instead, his lips enclose around your nipple. His tongue glides around it, feeling its pointiness peak until he is satisfied with the sounds coming from your lewd mouth. He does the same to the other side until you’re panting and your heart has turned erratic.

His pink lips trail down your torso, marking each inch of skin with a bit of saliva and a warm kiss. His fingers traced your shape, gently scratching at your sides until you were practically squirming in his touch. You’ve never been this wet in your life and it was driving you insane. Harry was driving you insane.

“So soft, Honey,” he coos when he reaches the waistline of your pants. You help him remove the clothing, so you’re not wasting anymore time because it’s blatantly obvious you’re both desperate as hell. His compliment made your skin tingle and your spine shiver. That nickname would be the death of you, you were sure of it. He made you feel all hot and dizzy but also made you gooey and cared for. It was an intense combination of emotions that you definitely needed to sort out. But after you get his cock inside of you.

Yeah. You could settle for that.

Harry now had a full view of your underwear, which was completely soaked through. But at this point, you’re not even embarrassed as much as you are needy. Hell, you’re even spreading your legs wider for him so he has quicker access to you. Yeah. It was that bad.

“Look at you all wet and drippy,” Harry smirks as he hooks his fingers in your panties. He surprises you by pulling them up, the fabric being consumed by your pussy lips. “Such a pretty cunt. Never even seen you this wet on a video. I must be special.”

“It’s all for you, Harry. Or should I say Daddy?” Now, you were smirking. You were only teasing, but at the same time, you were testing the waters. If Harry’s username used the title, you had an inkling that he had some type of kink towards it, right?

With a subtle grunt, he yanks your legs closer to him and widens them even further apart. He doesn’t even hesitate to rip your panties in half and discard the now wasted fabric.

“Harry!” You yelled, shocked at how quickly bare you are. And that he just shredded your underwear. But it was also kind of hot. Like very hot. He slapped the inside of your thigh as a warning, a stinging zip coursing straight to your core.

“No more Harry for you. Since y’want to be such a smart mouth, when you speak, y’better say Daddy.”

Before you know it, his head is lowering towards your cunt. His lips latch onto your clit similarly to your nipple and suck. You let out a gasping moan, fingers instantly clawing at the sheets of his bed. His tongue delves into your folds and warmly slips into you like you wished his cock would. But you were currently in heaven with the heat of his mouth devouring you like his last meal on Earth.

The way his large hands gripped and man-handled your thighs was enough to leave bruising. But you wanted the bruising. You wanted to feel the pain and soreness of this tomorrow just in case it never happens again. You’re not sure what all of this is going to mean for you guys, but you don’t think this will be the end. No, you think it’s going to be the beginning.

You could feel yourself getting wetter with each lick and slurp. Your tailbone was beginning to ache from arching your back to the absolute max. Once that all-too familiar feeling was rushing towards you like a train, Harry’s mouth only got quicker. He even started spitting on your cunt and watched the juices mix together, and that only made your insides clench at the lewdness of it all. Harry was a dirty, dirty man. You knew he was only showing bits and pieces of himself. You wanted to unravel it all and learn more about him and what he liked. But maybe that was for another time…

Without realizing it, your hands were sewn in his brown curls, forcing his head to remain on your clit until you reached your high. Harry’s groans were muffled into vibrations as you tugged, getting more pleasure through them. Your hips were moving in circular motions, but Harry pressed you down with his forearm to keep you flat and still.

“Har–” He pinched your ass, causing you to shriek and correct yourself, “Daddy, please, I’m so close. I’m right there.”

You rarely begged. On your livestreams and videos, you were confident and sexy and seducing because that’s what your audience liked. It’s what you’ve learned and grown to do. You weren’t used to needing something from someone else so fucking bad that you were pleading for them to make you satisfied. Harry’s mouth was currently your kryptonite because you would do anything for him to get you to the finish line.

He suckled on your clit for a few long seconds before you were coming in his mouth. Chants of his title were echoing loudly in his room that the neighbors probably thought you were dying. You were, just in a different way. Harry was gladly swallowing all your juices , his chin sloppy with all them. When it all got too much, you tried to push him away, but he didn’t move until he was completely done.

“Taste so sweet. Just like honey.”

He doesn’t fail to bring more heat onto your skin, even after just having his mouth on you. Something about the way he compliments you and manages to incorporate the word honey will always get you. He seems to read you so easily, and no one’s ever done that before.

“Knew from the video that you’d taste amazing.”

“Yeah?”

“I can’t believe you sent me that video by the way.”

“What? Why?”

“What if it wasn’t me?”

“It’s my job, Harry.”

“So? You were moanin’ my name. That means it’s for me. You’re for me.” The staring that was occurring between you quickly ended as your eyes flitted away from him. You made sure to look anywhere else but him as you heard the sound of his pants falling. Sometimes, Harry could be pretty blunt in the way he claimed you, but at the same time very guarded. He’s saying that you’re his, but you two haven’t even discussed things that far yet.

“Says who?”

“Says me. Right now,” Harry practically growls as he climbs over your body again, his insane physique hovering over you. You never thought you would actually see the day that Harry–the charming, tattooed, sexy man you worked with–was on top of you. You’ve only ever envisioned him in your wet dreams doing the most sinful things known. God wouldn’t be able to forgive the sins you’ve conjured in your brain.

You don’t even get to retort because you’re only thinking about his cock. You had felt his impressive bulge on the couch and assumed he had been rocking himself into the bed while eating you out. As he kissed your neck again, you would feel his hardness poking at you greedily, but you haven’t even looked at it yet. It was probably just as pretty as it was in all his videos.

He extends himself towards his night stand while you’re caught in your thoughts, snatching a condom. You’re glad he didn’t ask to go bare like most guys do. But “most guys” to you are a bunch of college losers who just want to get their dick wet and don’t actually care about the consequences. If you were to get pregnant, they probably wouldn’t even blink an eye before leaving. But you knew Harry wasn’t like that. No, he was the type to think things through and actually be mature about things. Besides the fact that he avoided you…but it’s not like you were very mature about it either. Maybe the age distance between you and Harry was something that you needed. The college boys just weren’t doing it for you.

It’s strange how so many thoughts can sprout from a simple as Harry grabbing a condom. The bare fucking minimum.

“What’s wrong?” Harry’s voice was full of concern as his thick thumb rubbed over your warm cheek. You hadn’t even realized how close he had gotten since he had stretched over towards the drawer and you didn’t know that he’d already put the condom on. So, again, you missed the sight of his huge, God-like dick in-person. Despite all of that, a ping of appreciation hit you right in the heart at Harry’s attention to detail because you know that those college boys wouldn’t have noticed a damn thing.

“Nothing, I–”

“Don’t lie, Honey. Do y’still want this? We don’t have to,” he reassured, eyes sparking with something that was different from the hidden lust. His voice could be rough and firm, but it could also be soothing and sweet. He had these sides to him that he would encompass. Not necessarily switch like a light but transition into smoothly.

“Harry, I’m fine. I promise. This is the only thing I want right now,” You rested your hand on top of his on your cheek. At that moment, everything felt a little more intimate. A little more love-like. The idea of sex turning into “love-making” currently terrified you, but the racing of your heart wasn’t from fear. No, it felt like it was exciting and anxious but in the best way. “Actually, I would be not so fine if you didn’t put your dick in me.”

“You have such a dirty mouth when you’re blunt, Honey,” Harry smoothes his hand down your body and finds your clit again, rubbing gentle circles over the throbbing nerves. Even though you just came only minutes prior, you continued to get wet with every second you were waiting for him. The sight of his body with all those beautiful designs was enough to get you ready for another. He didn’t even have to work you up.

“Thought that’s what you wanted.”

“I’m hearin’ more attitude than screams of m’name. Let’s change that.”

With a devilish smirk, Harry pushes himself close to you and levels into you. His cock enters you slowly but fully as your lungs forget to breathe. Realizing this, you breathe before Harry can scold you about it. His dick was nearly all in because you could feel the weight of his thighs hovering over you deliciously along with the rest of his tattooed body.

When Harry hears and sees you take a deep breath, he pulls out just to push back in again. You elicit a shaky moan as Harry groans gravelly near your chest.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Harry moans louder into the air as his thrusts become harder, more direct. With just those few thrusts, he already knows exactly where your weakness is and makes it his life goal to hit it every single time.

Harry’s hips move rapidly, pinning your body to the bed as you wiggle underneath him. His muscles are contracting against the pressure of each insane plunge into you while your insides are being reassorted. His size makes it difficult to move, difficult to breathe, yet you’re loving it immensely.

Staring at his arms, you don’t even think about grabbing one of his arms that’s holding him up and laying it on your neck. One of Harry’s furrowed eyebrows lifts up in surprise before that familiar smirk is plastered right back onto his smug face.

“Fuckin’ filthy. I knew you were. What else are y’hiding from me?” Harry’s hand wraps around your neck just as you silently asked. As his fingers block your air flow just enough to make you a little fuzzy, your cunt clenched around his cock. Besides your moans and groans and whimpers, the sound of skin to skin is bouncing across the bedroom like your own personal song. Your anthem. When he releases, the blood flow returns, but he keeps his hand there. “C’mon, Y/N, tell me. What other kinks do you have?”

“I know y’like it rough. Don’t like it when Daddy goes too easy on ya. Do you like to be spanked too? Hmm? Slapped and bitten? Like to have marks all over you so everyone can see?” His brutal thrusts never stop, not even when his breath becomes a little lost. He’s slamming into you like he’s trying to make a dent in your organs, and quite frankly, he just might if he keeps going at the rate he is. But you don’t seem to care too much at the moment. “Do you like people watching? Is that why you post videos of our pretty, little cunt all over the internet? So people can watch you?”

“I don’t hear you,” his voice, raspy and sexy, whispered in a low-threat type of way as his hand rubs over the pulse of your neck temptingly again.

“I g-guess I do like people watching me…” Your voice was breathless as your mind became foggy. Harry did have a way of doing that to you, especially with his hand on your now strained neck. “L-Like when you watch me.”

“‘Course you do. That’s ‘cause you’re dirty. Just like me.” If it was possible, he rocks into you more barbarically until your legs are shaking. You can feel the muscles in your thighs start to spasm, urging to close as you chase your inevitable high.

“Daddy, God, you’re so big. So, so big,” You whined helplessly into the sex-filled air. Your hairs were scratching, tugging, pulling, clawing at everything at the same time, trying to manage all the intense pleasure that was coursing through your body. It was almost too much to handle. Harry seemed to know how to push your limits without killing you, and you’ve craved that feeling for so long. “L-Love your cock. Oh my God!”

“Poor baby. I’ve gotten you all cock drunk; you can’t think of anything else besides m’cock. ‘S that good, huh?” A choppy chuckle elicits from his mouth and wavers over to your ear. Your chest was pressing into his as your core clutched with the sense of near-orgasm. “Gonna come soon, baby?”

“Yes, yes, yes…” You were a mumbled, grumbled mess. You couldn’t think straight, couldn’t talk straight. Harry was impairing all of your abilities with his dirty talk and his magical dick.

No, seriously. Was it like a thick magic wand or something?

Harry squeezes on your neck a couple times, lightly, just to push you right over the edge. Harry seemed to be a quick learner when it came to your body because you were instantly coming then. As Harry felt you orgasm for the second time tonight, he finally let go of his own. When you were coming around his tongue at the beginning of this all, he was having a hard time trying to not come in his own pants. He may have been stupid last night and selfish earlier, but he wasn’t going to do it again. He was going to make up for being a selfish prick and show you how he actually treats a woman. Because you deserve to be treated with nothing less than the best.

After you’re both settled, Harry regretfully slips out of you. Clearly, you felt the same way because you whined as he removed himself. After being inside of you and passing through the gates of heaven, why would Harry want to leave? But even though Harry wants to be as close to you as possible by simply cockwarming all day, he doesn’t want to rush this. It’s new, even if you guys have been friends for some time.

Plucking off the condom and knotting it, Harry waltzes towards his bathroom to grab a towel to clean you up. The soft smile on your face when he returns highlights how grateful you are for his aftercare as he gently wipes up the mess both of you helped create.

“How do you feel?” Harry genuinely asks before placing the towel at the foot of his bed. He briskly moves to his dresser to pick out a new pair of boxers.

“I’m sorry if this offends you, but you have a great ass,” You bluntly state, completely avoiding his question. “But I’m okay.”

Harry laughs as he slips on the clothing. “Just okay? No pain?”

“Yeah. If okay translates to “my vagina is broken for every man ever and both my legs are going to hate me tomorrow”,” You smile innocently as Harry grabs two shirts. He chucks one at you, smiling goofily. It hits you in the face with a laugh before you slip it over your head.

“Good.”

“Good? I might have to take a week off work to heal from the damages.”

“Guess you’ll just have to stay in my bed.”

You roll your eyes before pushing yourself off his bed, contradicting his statement.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to my real boyfriend’s house,” You roll your eyes again facetiously and leave his room, rounding the same corner that he did before yelling, “Bathroom!”

When you return, you plop yourself on Harry’s bed like it was normal. It was comfortable. It felt right. It wasn’t awkward, it wasn’t forced. That was the good thing about two friends getting together. After sex, or work, or school, or just a bad day, or even a good day, they could always just talk. As you sat on Harry’s bed, it was easy to joke and make conversation while still feeling that subtle spark of electricity in between you two. That spark was the difference between platonic and romantic.

“We should watch a movie,” You suggested.

“Where should we look? PornHub?” His dry humor made you laugh as you cozied up in his bed. He didn’t hesitate to pull you close and you liked that. Maybe a little too much for your own good. Your heart was thumping in a way that was melting away the frozen walls around it. It made you happy that something in your life finally seemed to be working out.

“Maybe start with Netflix,” You laid your head on his shoulder as the ironic logo appeared on his TV. “I, um.”

“What?” Harry peeked down at you.

“I think I like this a lot,” Harry smiles at you. He could tell from the beginning that it was hard for you to say things like that to him. That’s why it made him feel like such an asshole for storming out the other night. You needed time to process everything he had just told you, but he was too nervous for your rejection, so he left. Even though he’s six years older than you and may seem more mature, everyone makes stupid and selfish mistakes.

“Well, I hope so, Honey, ‘cause I do too,” Even those simple words have the ability to warm and satisfy your scared, little heart.

“But I’m still not taking your money.”

–

i hope you all liked these two :))

taglist:

@whoreonmondays @armystay89 @meighasfangirldiary @bisexual-desi @littlenatilda @crybabyddl @tiaamberxx @alwaysclassyeagle @raajali3 @likeapplejuicenpeach | @kathb59 @gem1712 @ppleasingg @onlyangle1 @buckybarnessimpp @hannah9921 @storyschanging

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#shawnxstyles #baby honey #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles gif #harry styles stories #harry styles fans #harry styles fluff

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Magnetic**

Okay I had so much fun writing this one! It's based off of THIS REQUEST where Harry cheats on his gf with Y/N and is basically pussy whipped.

Warnings: mostly remorseless infidelity, solo male masturbation, unprotected sex (p in v), oral (m and f receiving), fingering, daddy kink, slight degradation, pain, size, and cnc kink, non-con creampie, jealous partners, alcohol consumption. I think that's it...?

WC: 14.6k

You were minding your business, shamelessly standing stark naked in Harry’s laundry room, setting the wash for the sheets and pillowcases you two had soiled with your sweat, spit, and cum. You suddenly felt Harry’s presence behind you and moments later he was wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I told you that I’d take care of this later.” He mumbled before kissing your bare shoulder.

“It is later.” You smirked, “You said she’s coming home around 11, no?” You asked him and he nodded, “Well it’s already 10 and we still need to clean up from cooking dinner.” You reminded and he groaned.

“Right…”

“Told you we should’ve just ordered in. Could’ve kicked me out with the garbage.” You joked and he tutted in disapproval and squeezed around you a bit harder. You giggled a bit at his reaction, but it was true…you were the other woman and sometimes you coped with that with a little help from dark humor.

“I thought we agreed you’d stop with the self deprecating stuff.” He reminded you. “Only I can be a little mean t’you.” He smirked devilishly and you rolled your eyes, but nodded.

“I know, I know…sorry.” You giggled as he smooched your shoulder again.

“And you were right. We should’ve ordered in.” He added, “You’re basically always right though, angel.” He admitted and you smiled.

When you thought about how it was that Harry came into your life it felt so normal that the fact you were fucking almost felt strange. You were merely acquaintances and only because your uncle was none other than Rob Stringer. Well, you were related through marriage, but still. You and Harry both just happened to be in attendance at his birthday party one year and after loosening up with a few drinks you two were flirting up a storm in a secluded little nook. Harry was single then and you were finishing up your Master’s degree in Audio Engineering, you both loved music, so that gave you two plenty to talk about. At the end of the night you exchanged numbers and added each other on instagram, but you never really spoke again after that. 

It was a couple years later, at one of his last shows of his world tour that your paths crossed again. You all had a little “party” at the hotel afterwards and you overheard one of his friends say that he was talking to someone and that she’d be coming for his final show along with more of his friends and family. So you sort of kept your distance because you couldn’t trust yourself with not flirting with him. But all throughout the night you’d make eye contact across the room or just narrowly miss each other as you rotated around the little cliques of people. His intense energy made you feel quite wired, so even when the final people trickled out of the rooftop patio area that had been reserved for the little cocktail party, you found yourself sitting at the pool on the far end of the rooftop, legs dangling in the perfectly cool water. Harry was heading back to his room when he spotted you across the way through the chaises and tables surrounding the pool.

He’d greeted you with a cool “Hey, stranger!”, when he entered the pool area. That greeting was something you thought you’d hate until it was coming from him. He was clearly on a good one, as were you, and you guys just talked for an hour until you both realized it was past 3am. The ride down in the elevator was charged with tension and a comfortable silence, both of you were just enjoying the intense vibe that was encompassing you for however long this ride lasted. When the elevator stopped and opened up on his floor you were prepared to say goodnight but he just extended his hand out towards you. It was an unspoken invitation. You recall asking him “Aren’t you dating someone?” And he just smirked and said “not technically” and well that was enough for you to let him guide you to his suite and the rest was history.

You’d always thought sexual chemistry was a myth until you and Harry fucked. You had the things that scratched his itch and vice versa. It truly was supposed to be a one time thing but then you saw each other again after a bit more time and did it again. Harry was consumed by guilt after the first time, he felt ill and disgusted with himself. But when you two saw each other again you slept together again. And then again. And now it had happened once more.

You weren’t hooking up regularly, so it wasn’t a full fledged affair, it was more of a sporadic thing. The point was that now he had a girlfriend of almost a year now and you really needed to not do this again. You wanted to say you felt guilty for it all the time, but in all truth the guilt had diminished, especially when you were together. That’s how good it was. However, that didn’t mean what you were doing wasn’t wrong.

“So when I tell you that this can’t happen again you know that I mean it, right?” You asked as you closed the lid and then turned towards him. His eyes met your own with a solemn look as he nodded.

“I know…this was a slip up.” He said, there was a little guilt in his eyes, you could see it pulling him away from the present and into his head. 

It truly had been this time. He had gone to a football match with your uncle the day before and you just happened to be over at his for dinner with your aunt and mum when they came back. You’d gone your separate ways but he then texted you to see if you wanted to catch up and have dinner together the next day, well, today now. And you had agreed, but one thing led to another, like the time before and here you were. 

“Isn’t that what you said last time?” You asked with a smirk.

“Hey, how was I supposed to know you worked out at that studio?”

“Instagram.” You said with a grin and he chuckled.

“Okay, I just…I just wanted to see you that time. I didn’t intend for it to turn into sex.”

“Liar.” You whispered smugly before tiptoeing and kissing his lips gently and he chuckled.

“I mean, I fantasized about it, but I didn’t intend to follow through with it.” He defended himself and you just giggled before your lips melted together. It was so easy to get lost when you kissed each other. Feeling his big, warm hands feeling out your curves and squeezing at your butt, it made you melt. And well, he was getting hard all over again and you giggled into your kiss.

“One more before you go?” He asked you and you shook your head. 

“Why don’t you channel all this towards your girl instead when she gets home.” You suggested before pecking his lips quickly and pulling away from him. 

Harry felt confused when you said things like this to him. He wondered if you said it to make him feel guilty or were just being sincere about him focusing on her instead of you. So he followed after you until he was back in his bedroom and you were pulling your clothes on.

“Are you upset?” He asked you and you turned towards him as you fastened your bra on.

“No, H. I didn’t mean that in a bad way, sorry.” You assured as he grabbed your shirt from the floor and handed it to you. “Thanks.” You hummed.

“Welcome.” He mumbled.

“I just meant like…” you sighed, “M-maybe if you’re not…satisfied with how your sex life is with her, then-”

“Let’s not, alright?” He cut you off sternly, his eyes wild with frustration.

You just rolled lips together and nodded, “You’re right. Sorry.” You apologized immediately as you looked away with a little bit of embarrassment. You could sense that the mood completely shifted between you two so you hurriedly got dressed in silence. Harry had just thrown on his sweats.

“Ready?” He asked as soon as you’d buttoned your jeans.

“I can show myself out, H. Just finish cleaning up.” You assured him.

“What’re a few minutes worth at this point?”

“At least a shower.” You responded and he smiled a bit.

“See. Always right.” He acknowledged as he took your hand and squeezed it a bit in his.

“I’m not answering next time, Harry. That’s a promise.” You said seriously. You needed to put your foot down. It was bad enough that you didn’t feel bad about it, so you really needed to stop. “So don’t even call, okay?” You requested and he nodded once before he let you go.

Harry stood there until he heard the front door open and close and he smiled to himself because he was already itching to call you again. He didn’t let himself feel too guilty about this because he knew that he was going to stop, when? Well, he certainly believed the second time was the last time, but now it had happened a couple more times and he wouldn’t mind not stopping. There was just something about the way you two fit together that made him want to keep going back. Even after the first time he’d had you, when you were both drunk and giggling and mucking about, the second he sunk inside of you his brain chemistry changed. He’d never moaned so much while fucking someone. And then when you rode him…

“Fuck…” he mumbled as his cock started growing hard so fast. 

He slightly brought down his sweats and pulled his cock out as he sat on the bed. Harry’s eyes closed as he as he started to stroke his cock up and down at a steady pace, not wasting any time to tease or delay his orgasm in any way. His jaw tensed a bit as he clenched his teeth together and hissed in a breath as he rubbed at his frenulum the way you had done earlier with your tongue. 

He absolutely loved your company, the chemistry was just there. He’d never been with someone who made themselves right at home so easily. And not in an imposing way, you did it in a way that reminded him of when a friend you haven’t seen in ages pops in for a long visit and they just slowly start to worm their way further in. You zapped him with an excitement that was reminiscent of the time when he fell in love for the first time. Where you’ve got these blinders on and that person can do absolutely no wrong in your eyes. You only see all of the wonderful things about them you glorify them to an extent. You were a living fantasy. 

“Shit, need her so bad.” He mumbled as he stroked a bit faster. He visualized the way your breasts bounced in front of him as you rode his cock until he busted for you twice. And here he was again, about to come for you for the third time tonight. He loved the way you praised him when he was about to come for you and he recalled it now. He groaned as he basically heard your voice as if you were right there with him.

“That feels so good, doesn’t it, baby?”

“I’m going to make you come again, aren’t I?” 

“Yes, Harry…Fuck yeah, daddy! Come for me.”

Harry’s eyes squeezed shut as his memories of your soft and sultry voice and tight, dripping little cunt milked the come out of him. He groaned as he felt it start to expand from his core and tickle down his legs and finally reach the tip of his cock. He let out the most lewd moan as he felt is start to erupt from his tip. His hips bucked up into his fist as his warm, milky sperm spurted out against his abs quite intensely a few times before it diminished and soon stopped. He gave himself a gentle squeeze before letting go and sighing in satisfaction. He was obsessed with you, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. About when he’d see you next. But you were right, it couldn’t happen again. He was getting in too deep and the longer he let this go on the more painful it would be for everyone involved if it ever came to light. 

*************

You had a short cry in the car on your way home because you were so fucking into Harry but you couldn’t fuck with his life anymore. Never did you think you’d be someone’s side piece, it shocked you! But Harry just understood your mind and body in ways that no one but you knew and it was so amazing to feel so understood. To feel in tune with someone, whether it be in the middle of a sexual experience or just while making conversation. That’s why it had been so hard to stay away. But you meant it this time. You couldn’t continue being his escape of whatever it was that he was missing in his relationship. 

You hadn’t meant to offend him when suggesting he have a conversation about the sexual things in his relationship with his girlfriend. You just wanted him to be able to get what he needed from his relationship, that was the point wasn’t it? You were certain things were just fine in his relationship but when it comes to sex, “just fine” is a mere step up from “not good”. And when you and Harry got together everything flowed so perfectly that he was willing to be unfaithful just to have a taste of that. 

What you two did was fuck really well. There wasn’t really any tenderness in those moments, you two just relished in the ecstasy that came with the lust and pleasure when you two got together. You were into the same things, you could push the limits of what was acceptable with him. It was so rare to find such a good match, but you were determined to stay true to your word because at the end of the day, no matter how good the sex and company were, he had someone else.

After a couple of days you got the courage to block his number. It was a temporary measure in case either of you slipped up in the near future because if he did just the right amount of groveling you’d give in far more easily than you cared to admit.

….TWO MONTHS LATER….

You had been doing really well after distancing yourself from Harry. You weren’t sure how long you’d need before you could see him without your pussy getting all puffy and sticky at the mere sight of him and the sound of his voice. In order to achieve this you’d also stopped frequenting the places where you knew he liked to go, so you hadn’t even seen him this entire time. You were proud of yourself for being able to quit him cold turkey so when one of your friends invited you out to Amante’s, a private club for the rich and famous (precisely the kind of place Harry went to when he wanted to be out of the house but not being lurked by admirers), you quickly disregarded the reluctance that initially arose. The odds of you running into him were quite low and you just needed the night out, especially after the grueling work week you’d had.

You got a bit dressed up, something short of cocktail attire, and then just added some eyeliner to darken up your makeup before rushing out of your town home. You got into your Uber and made your way to the club. Wilson’s wasn’t a club to dance, it was more of a social club. There was a main bar with a large sitting room, some billiard, and karaoke rooms, and then a lovely patio area where they had a stove oven to bake fresh pizza’s. That’s usually where your friends hung out, out back and away from the older crowd. You were heading back, tucking away your member’s card when you heard your name.

“Y/N!” You glanced up and smiled brightly when you saw your friend, Goldie.

“G! Look at you!” You giggled happily, completely blown away by her gorgeous outfit.

“Thank you, thank you!” She grinned, “You’re looking lovely as well.” She complimented and you tutted, waving off the compliment. “I was just on my way to freshen up a bit. I know you’ve just arrived, but do you want to join?” She asked and you agreed and were easily swept away. 

You too took the time to touch up your lipliner and lipstick, you were being cautious as Goldie re-glued one of her strip lashes that seemed to be needing more adhesive. After helping her fan it dry to a tacky consistency she placed it back on. You gave yourself a few more spritzes of perfume before you both headed out.

“So it is a big group?” You asked as you two weaved through the sitting room, locking eyes with a handsome man before exchanging a timid smile and continuing on.

“About eight of us.”

“Eight?” You asked in surprise. Your main group only consisted of six people.

“Yeah, Sam brought Tom and Harry with him.” She informed you. Suddenly, you felt the world come to a screeching halt. Just your fucking luck! 

“Oh!” You exclaimed.

“You know them both already, right?” Goldie asked you.

“Oh yeah, I’ve met them before.” You assured and she nodded. She was saying something more but you genuinely couldn’t hear anything as you started to get trapped in your own head.

As soon as you stepped out though your hearing tuned back in and picked out Harry’s boisterous laughter over everyone else’s and you immediately felt your heart skip a beat. Your skin started to tingle, goosebumps breaking out over your arms the closer you got, and those tingles started to seep down into your guts. The butterflies of excitement and nervous were fluttering with reckless abandon in anticipation. Then, finally one of the servers slipped past you and opened up your field of vision to Harry, or his rather chiseled side profile. His hair was longer than you’d last seen him and his facial hair had come in nicely; if you concentrated a bit more you could practically feel it scratching at the delicate skin between your thighs as he worked his way up to your pu-

“Look who’s here!” Goldie announced with glee as you two reached the end of the table and everyone glanced over to her and then to you. 

Harry’s gaze immediately found your own and his eyes raked down your body subtly. You ignored the intense heat of his eyes taking you in longingly and just waved at everyone and did a general greeting before taking your seat on the chair at the end. You were taking everyone in for a moment before picking up the drinks menu to gather yourself until you heard your name.

“Y/N, do you want to sit in the booth? It’s far more comfortable.” Harry spoke to you and you glanced up at him from the menu.

“I’m alright here. Thanks.” You offered a polite smile before looking away. 

You knew full well that you weren’t ordering anything off of this specialty menu, you’d just get your usual Whiskey and soda water with a squeeze of lemon. You just needed a distraction while you composed yourself enough to look at him without picturing him in his full naked glory. It was tough and when you spared him a glance when he wasn’t looking his lips still quirked up to the left, carving his dimple into his cheek. It made you smile, but after that you just steered clear. No one knew that you and Harry were more familiar with each other than the times you’d been to his shows or seen him at your uncle’s things on occasion, so giving him any more attention would make everyone think you were flirting with a taken man. And speaking of…where was she? It didn’t take long for someone to bring her up and ask how he’d been coping with her gone for work.

“I’m good. I’ve always been big on having my own things to keep me occupied.” He said, “Then on the other hand I’m all alone in that big, old house all the time.” he announced and you reached for your drink and took it.

“You don’t get lonely?” Someone asked him.

“Not usually, but lately just a bit.” He said and his gaze flickered over to you, “Wouldn’t mind having some company when things feel a bit slow.” He confessed.

And with that, you excused yourself to the bathroom and rushed over there. You felt so stupid for getting worked up over what he was saying, but you knew exactly what he meant. You could perfectly envision him letting you into his house and immediately dropping to his knees as he got your pants off and just licked you out right there against the doorway. As soon as you got in the stall you grabbed a few sheets of toilet paper and pulled your dress up a bit before slipping your hand down the front of your panties to soak up the arousal that had you all slicked up. Your clit was so sensitive that even when the wad of toilet paper skimmed over it as you retracted your hand, it made you bite down on your lip. For a moment you genuinely wished that Harry would burst through the door and lock it behind him so that he could take you then and there. It was a sinful thought and you were quite disappointed in yourself that all it took was being in his presence to have your resolve break down like this. Betrayed by your own body. Once you had washed your hands you beelined it for the bar and waited against the counter.

“What can I get for you, miss?”

“Just a shot of vodka.” You said, “Do you still carry the Kettle One grapefruit one?”

“We do.”

“That please. Chilled.”

“Right away.” The man smiled and you thanked him before he spun around to get what you wanted. 

“Can I pick that up for you?” You heard from beside you and turned to see the handsome man that had made eyes at you when you first arrived.

“Oh no, that’s alright.”

“I insist. I was hoping to buy you a drink but seeing as you’re here with friends, I’m afraid this would be my only opportunity. I’m Eric.” He said extending his hand and you smiled.

“I’m Y/N. Lovely to meet you.”

“The pleasure is entirely mine. So what do you say? Can I at least get this for you?” He inquired once more and you nodded.

“Yeah, alright.” You agreed and he smiled, “Do you want one too? Some guy is paying.” You joked and he chuckled.

“Sure.”

“Alright. I can spare a bit of time.” You flirted and he called on the bartender and asked him for another. 

Soon you had your shots before you and you were clinking the little shot glasses together before tossing them back. He scoffed afterwards and said it was awful and you did as well. You explained that the last time you had this specific vodka it may have been in a spritzer or shooter of sorts, not actually straight. So you guys laughed about that and chatted a little bit about yourselves. You exchanged social media profiles and while you mentioned to him that you weren’t interested in being involved with anyone at the moment, you assured him that if you changed your mind you would reach out. With that you headed back to the table and rolled your eyes as some of your friends whooped and yelped dramatically after someone else had seen you flirting up a storm inside.

“Man, I was never that bold when I was single!” your friend Paul smirked and you giggled.

“I wasn’t being bold, he was.”

“Is that all it takes now a days?” 

“Sometimes.” You giggled and went back to your drink. 

You felt a bit more relaxed now and well, Harry was pissed because he did not acknowledge you once for the rest of the night. Did it make you sad? Of course, but he had no right or reason to be upset at this and you figured that was his way of coping with that. After you had a second full drink your buzz started to come in. You were giggling at everything and getting all affectionate with Paul, who was on your left. He was gay, so you knew that he wouldn’t misinterpret it as you scooched closer and leaned against his shoulder. You had a slight moment of weakness and when you glanced at Harry he was already looking at you. You could feel the energy emanating from him. He looked kind of lost and sad. You had the urge to reach for him, but you couldn’t do that here. So instead you just offered him a small smile and his gaze softened a bit and then you looked away. 

The rest of the time seemed to fly by and before you knew it you were being dropped off in front of your house. 

“Thank you so much for the ride. You are the best!” You praised Goldie with gratitude.

“Not a problem, darling!”

“Do you need water or to have a wee or anything?” You asked.

“I should be alright!” She giggled, “Thank you, though. We’ll see each other for Massimo’s birthday in a few, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” You smiled and waved goodbye as she drove off. You then keyed your way inside and immediately shrugged your jacket off, the alcohol in your system had made you feel a bit warm. You were just about to get your shoes off when there were a few knocks on the door and you grinned.

“I knew she’d have to pee.” You said to yourself lowly and when you opened up the door you swore any drunken feeling evaporated from your system as his eyes met yours. “Harry, I don’t think that-”

You were cut off by his lips colliding with yours as he pushed you inside. You easily melted into it and sucked his plump bottom lip between your own lips. He groaned as his hands slide down to your backside, kneading it in his big warm hands. He started turning you around until your back collided with the door and he started to kiss down your neck. You were obsessed with the way his lips felt and with the way his scent enveloped you. You moaned as he you felt him start to suck at the base of your throat.

“N-no marks remember?” You panted as you scratched the back of his head gently.

“Mmm…don’t think anyone’ll be suspicious after you were flirting with that guy at the bar.” He mumbled before picking up where he left off. Your mouth parted as you moaned in slight pain at how hard he was sucking at you. 

“Tsss…it hurts!” You winced.

“Good.” He mumbled before kissing over the mark. You loved when he did things to claim you, because outside of this you weren’t his to claim. He pecked your lips quickly as he pressed his forehead against yours, “You think about that next time before ghosting me for two months.” He lowly and you shook your head.

“It was for your own good.” You reminded.

“I think I can decide what’s good for me and what’s not.” He mumbled lowly as one of his hands came up and angled your face up towards his. The deep, magenta glow from the little sunset lamp in your entryway was making this moment feel like a drug-induced hallucination. Breathing his scent and air made you feel intoxicated. You were putty in his hands. “I’ve missed you so much, angel.” He said lowly. That’s when you realized that his other hand had slithered up your thigh, he was just an inch away from touching you where you needed him most.

“H, no. We shouldn’t.” You reasoned, but did absolutely nothing to push him away or stop his hand from slithering further up your thigh. You wanted him to keep going, but you shouldn’t.

“Tell me to stop then.” He responded huskily and you inhaled sharply as his fingers rubbed over your clothed slit. Your hand darted down and wrapped around his wrist and his eyes immediately softened, “Is that a stop?” He asked with slight concern and you shook your head.

“Harder.” You requested. He groaned and added more pressure, his finger dipping into your crease and colliding with your clit. He felt as the tension just melted off of your body and the soft moan that slipped past your lips made him grin.

“Is that good, angel?” He asked and you nodded and whimpered as he went a bit faster. “You’ve been wet for a while, hmmm?”

“Yes.” You smiled, “Since I saw you.” You confessed and he giggled. 

“Yeah?” He asked, fully amused at learning this.

“Yeah.” You nodded, still smiling cheek to cheek.

“For real?” He asked lowly, more vulnerably. His eyes bore into yours and you nodded again, not breaking eye contact with him. “That’s fucking hot.” He groaned before kissing your sloppily. 

It was all tongues and teeth colliding, there was just so much urgency that it didn’t even matter if you were kissing at the same pace, you just wanted to be against him. One of your hands reached down to feel the sizable bulge in his pants. You were obsessed with how big his dick got. He stretched you out so good, you got wetter in anticipation. He groaned in satisfaction as you rubbed over him with more pressure, really letting the heel of your palm press against the head of his cock.

“Harry?”

“Yes, angel?”

“Please fuck me.” You panted against his lips and he nodded.

“Yeah, baby. Want me to fuck you? I’ll fuck you.” He muttered against your lips before pulling you off towards your bedroom.

“Wait, wait! My shoes! Let me get ‘em off!” You giggled and he groaned and knelt down. You bit your lip and smiled down at him as you placed your foot on his thigh. He kissed your knee as his fingers undid the straps of your high heel.

“Next one.” He hummed and you switched legs. “There you are, now lets get to it.” He smiled and you pulled him to your bedroom swiftly.

As soon as you got in you reached across your body to pull down your dress’ zipper. About halfway down, Harry’s hands slid the straps down your shoulders and then slid under your arms to grab your breasts. He squeezed them as his lips traveled up your neck.

“Fuck, I missed these.” He hummed and you bit your lip and whined as he gently pinched your nipples down between his thumbs and index fingers. He pressed a bit harder until you gasped and he eased up. “Again?” He asked and you nodded.

“Please, again.” You confirmed. 

This was one of the reasons Harry loved sleeping with you. Little things like this, where he was a bit more aggressive and pushed the limits with you. You leaned into it, you loved the bite of pain. You loved feeling pushed to the edge and giving him complete free reign to do with you as he pleased, you’d set some boundaries before but there were very few. And well, he enjoyed taking you there. It’s what he was missing, he figured it out after not having you for two months. 

Things weren’t bad in his relationship but they were rather tame. He loved having slow, meaningful sex but he also loved having horny, kinky, and primal sex where he could fulfill his urges however he pleased. That wasn’t really the kind of person his partner was, to be fair she had tried but she just couldn’t get into it. And well, knowing you were of that persuasion, it just became easiest to seek you out for it. But he didn’t expect to get whipped after a couple times. It was bad, he had been struggling without you. And thank whatever higher power there was that your paths coincided tonight because he really just needed to see you. Even if nothing had come of it, at least he got to be around you and feel excited again. That very spark of excitement being relit was the thing that persuaded him to show up at your door and he was so glad he had.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He hummed as he glanced down at your body. “So fucking perfect. And so good for me.” He goaded you on. You loved how he spoke to you when you fucked, “Always so fucking good. Aren’t you, angel?”

“Yes, daddy.” You whined and he groaned. Just hearing you call him that again had clouded his judgement completely and the rational part of himself evaporated into thin air.

In moments Harry was urging you to get into bed while he quickly undressed himself. You were nestling yourself into the pillows when he climbed on. You parted your legs to allow him to rest himself over your body and as he settled over you he kissed you deeply. You were aching to feel his cock stretching you open and filling you up with each inch of it that sunk inside of you. You were longing to feel the satisfaction that came with sleeping with him and only him. It was dangerous, like a drug.

Harry kissed your lips once more before pressing himself up, “Gonna get a taste of you first.” He said to you and you bit your lip in excitement. 

You stayed perfectly still as Harry kissed down your chest and stomach, then skipped down to your thighs and nipped and kissed and sucked his way up until  he was pressing kisses over your labia. He loved feeling the wetness seeping out from between your lips, he loved how wet and horny you got for him. So without any further delays he nuzzled in and lapped at your achey little hole, dipping his tongue in until you were grinding into his face and gasping as his nose kept nudging against your clit. He was trying not to, but he was smiling so big, it was getting hard to keep doing what he was doing. But he was absolutely blissed out over getting to savor you once again.

“Oh fuck…” you mewled, “My clit! Suck my clit!” You whined and he groaned as he glided his mouth further up to get to your clit. His mustache pricked at your hypersensitive skin and it made you weak in the knees. You loved the contrast of his smooth lips and tongue in comparison to the roughness of his facial hair scratching over your skin. Once he felt the reached the raised little bump, Harry parted his lips to suck and flick his tongue at the sensitive little bundle until you started to writhe your hips.

Your moans became more consistent and then he pressed his middle finger into you. You gasped as he hooked it up, right into your g-spot. Your abs immediately started to tense as he played your body with an absolutely lethal level of lust-driven determination. He wanted to make you come. The final nail in the coffin was when he plunged a second finger in. The soft smacks of his fingers thrusting in and out of you were getting louder the closer you got to your orgasm. His moans of enjoyment and your praises of gratitude to him joined the chorus of things pushing you right to the edge. And just like that you were coming undone around his fingers. 

“Fuck, that’s it, angel.” He chuckled against you, kissing at your clit lightly until he had worked you through it all the way. 

Harry kissed up your body with lust and what felt like relief. And when he was back up at your face he went in for a sultry kiss, tongue first. You moaned as you tasted yourself on his tongue and felt his hands rub up and down your inner thighs while his heavy erection bobbed up and down in the small space between your bodies. You just wanted him so badly, you raised your hips up to get his tip against your folds and hopefully your clit. He adjusted a bit until his tip kissed your clit as you’d been hoping. You whimpered and he bit his lip at the soft whimpers escaping from your throat as his cock kept bumping into your clit at the perfect pace. He was trying to not make too much of it because if he thought about it too much he’d come like this with ease. And while it was very tempting to do so if only to see your pussy glazed over with his cum, he needed to feel you. He wanted to be buried deep in the person he’d been missing and thinking about all this time when he finally came.

“Please, H. Put it in!” You begged and he groaned as he angled himself down and to your entrance. He gently nudged against it, he’d have to assist a bit to push it inside.

“You’re still on the pill?” He asked as he glanced up at you and your expression fell a bit as your eyes met.

“No, I stopped it last month.” And then you cocked your head towards the adjoining bathroom, “I have condoms somewhere in there though.” You offered because he had always insisted on protection. But this time he bit his lip pensively.

“Ca-can I…pull out?” He asked and your eyes widened and dazzled a bit upon hearing his request. You’d never gone bare before, it was one of the things you’d agreed on every time you’d meet up. Of course, for your own sexual health, but largely because he was still sleeping with a long term partner who wasn’t aware that he had another sexual partner. Truly, the least you two could do was use condoms. 

“Ummm, a-are you sure?” You asked him. 

“Yeah angel, I’m absolutely sure.” You looked a bit skeptical, “M’sure.” He insisted with a nod, “I need t’feel you.” He admitted lowly as his eyes glanced up to yours. He looked uncertain of having shared that with you but you could also see the urgency in them. Your lips twitched up in a small smile.

“Okay.” You agreed and he smiled down at you as he started to guide himself down to your entrance. 

When his tip finally met with your entrance and he started to press in you sighed in relief. You had slept with someone else shortly after the last time with Harry, so it had been a while for you and you were aching to feel the stretch as your body adjusted and accommodated to his size. 

“Ready?” He asked and you nodded eagerly.

“I’m so ready.” You responded, nearly breathless and with that he surged forward with enough force to sink inside, “Oh fuuuuck…” You moaned, eyes squeezing shut the second your muscles relaxed enough to allow him to sink in about halfway. 

Harry moaned in relief as well, but his eyes were fixed on the place where your bodies were connected. He loved to see you stretched out around him, he marveled at the way he fit inside of you. Without a warning he reared back and you whined. He smirked smugly and glanced up at you before thrusting back into you. You moaned as your gazes locked once again.

“Can you take it all with the next one?” He asked and you nodded once, “You sure?”

“Yeah, m’sure. Please, H.” You whined softly. With that he pulled back again and thrust inside with a bit more strength and then he actually shifted his hips down causing your legs to fall open even more as you opened right up for him. “Oh shit!” You gasped in surprise when his cock went as deep as it could. It felt like he was in your stomach.

“Relax f’me, angel.” He encouraged you and when you did and he ground into you, his tip just barely grazed your cervix. The small, but dull ache told you that’s where he was. “Can I move?”

“Please move.” You giggled breathlessly and he smiled before pulling out and gliding back in with ease. You were even more wet now with his thrusts. Your body was practically singing for him and the way it felt to be connecting with him this way after all of this time.

Your hands ran up and down the hot and smooth skin of his back and arms. You didn’t know how much you missed the feeling of the bulging muscles in his back and arms working hard to make you feel good. He was so strong, it made you even hornier as you brought a hand over his chest to feel his bulging pectorals. He smiled and knelt up, spreading your legs even more as he watched with lustful eyes as his cock glided in and out of you with ease.

“Fuck, you take it so well.” He grunted through his thrusts before grabbing your left breast in his hand. He groped and squeezed at it and your nipple, causing your back to arch up with his tugs as you gasped and moaned. “Too much?” He asked when you winced and you shook your head.

“It’s good! It’s so fucking good!” You mewled.

Harry was obsessed with how perfect you looked beneath him. Gorgeous face, tits bouncing up and down with the force of his thrusts. Your warm and inviting little hole taking his cock as well as he remembered. For a while there at Amante’s he was worried that you’d leave with that handsome guy who was entertaining you at the bar and boy, did his blood boil. He wasn’t going to act on his need for you until he saw that. At the very least, the man had gotten your socials and he’d be a fool to not shoot his shot with you. But that’s why he ended up at your doorstep, he wanted to be fresh on your mind if you decided to try your luck with someone else. He knew it was messy and even toxic of him to do this, but he wanted you to compare. He wanted you to obsess and lose sleep over him the way he did over you.

“Damn, look at you.” He sighed with a slight smirk, “You were being so good, weren’t you? Keeping your promise and staying away, but look at you now.” He pointed out, “All it took was seeing me once for you to spread your legs for me.” He said smugly and you moaned, “You’re right back where you started, angel. My needy, cock-hungry, little slut.” He teased and degraded you just how you loved, it was pushing you closer and closer to the brink.

Your walls tightened up around him, squeezing him tight. You enjoyed this. This was the side of him that he saved for you. The side of him that his girlfriend didn’t like and couldn’t handle. You loved how he mocked you and made you feel so weak and fickle. You’d spent most of your life being strong, being the rock, it was good to be able to not be that person. To give in to your recklessness and your humanity in a safe space with a person who not only cared for you, but fucked you so good you could detach from reality and just enjoy being taken care of.

“Fuck, I’m so close!” You gasped when he ground deep into you while rubbing over your clit. 

The pleasure started to expand from deep in your core and to the rest of your body. Your walls were fluttering around his cock erratically, without your influence. His deep moans in response had your skin covered in goosebumps. And as the feeling made it down your legs, you writhed beneath him, whining and whimpering as you got closer and closer. Your brain was starting to shut off and your eyes to glaze over as you succumbed to the pleasure possessing your body. When your ears started to ring you knew you were about to come. You were smiling in satisfaction as the moans flowed from your mouth, limbs feeling like jell-o.

“Fuck daddy, I’m gonna come!” You gasped, “Please, let me come!” You asked for permission. You always had to ask the first time.

“Go on, angel. Give it t’me, come for me.” He granted you the permission and immediately your body went tense. 

Your eyes rolled back and your jaw went slack as all of those wonderful, tingling feelings rippled from your core and out to the rest of your body. It felt like your veins were pumping fire through you. You were desperately grinding up to meet his own thrusts, not able to get enough of him even now as you creamed all over his cock. Harry leaned down to hover over you again, breathing in your exhales, letting his own pleasure reach its own pinnacle. He had every intention of pulling out, but seeing you there beneath him so fucking perfect and fucked out because of him, plus the underlying jealously he was still feeling that led him to your bed, he just couldn’t stop. His thrusts grew erratic and his hands found yours, he pressed them into the mattress as he interlocked your fingers. The look in his eyes tipped you off that his resolve was breaking.

“H-Harry, pull out!” You stammered out the reminder as his brows furrowed and he shook his head. His thrusts slowed but he fucked into your harder until he sunk into you as deep as he could. “Oh fuck!” You whined. 

“Fuuuuck…” he moaned deeply as his eyes squeezed shut and then pressed his forehead into yours as he ignored your reminder and started to come inside of you. He needed to and in that moment had no interest in sticking to his own rule.

You could feel the dramatic pulses and twitches of his cock as your snug, warm walls milked the cum out of him. Just feeling it filling you up like this was working you up all over again. Harry groaned and moaned through his orgasm, enjoying it for as long as he could. He had no idea if you’d be angry with him when he took your face in again, but he was glad he did it. He needed to do it. He could feel you trying to free up your hands, so he let them go. He was mentally preparing to feel you pushing him off of you in a completely appropriate fit of rage. But instead you just ran your fingers up the back of his neck and gently scratched at the back of his head. You smiled a bit as you felt his body relax and melt against yours before you giggled.

“You’re reckless and stupid for that.” You chastised him before kissing the side of his face and he just smiled.

“I’ll make sure to get a pill to you in the morning.” He mumbled, “Sorry, I just…something came over me.” He muttered.

“It’s alright.” You assured him, “I like it.” You admitted timidly and he smiled.

“Yeah? Sure?”

“Yes.” You reiterated and he smiled.

You just lay in silence for a little bit, recouping from the intense sex you’d just had. You were enjoying his warmth and the weight of him over you as much as possible before he made his swift exit. But his breaths were getting more and more shallow and he was melting against you further and further.

Suddenly he pushed up a bit until his eyes were meeting yours, “I’m sorry for doing that without asking. I should’ve asked.” He said softly, suddenly feeling really bad and guilty for coming inside of you like that. He had never pushed the limit like that before and was worried that you were just downplaying it.

“Yes, you should’ve but I’m not upset that you didn’t. I ummm…I like that quite a bit.” You admitted bashfully, “Though, I’m…surprised you went through with it, but definitely not upset at you for it.” 

“Promise?”

“I promise.” You confirmed.

“Can I stay?” He asked after a moment of silence and you bit your lip, feeling so hesitant to allow it.

“Why?” You asked.

“I’m fucking tired.” He said and you smiled, “But mostly because…I don’t want to be in the house alone for another night.” He admitted. You gave it a thought for a moment before agreeing.

“Just this once.” You decided and he thanked you with a gentle kiss to your lips before warning you that he was going to pull out. 

You two got cleaned up and then back into bed. You had gotten in first and had turned on your side, facing away from him to give him both, space and privacy. Moments later you felt the bed dip and the last thing you expected was for Harry to continue scooting in until his front was flush with your back. But when he tried to drape his arm over your midsection you sat up.

“What’s wrong?” He asked as he sat up as well and you switched on the beside lamp and turned to him.

“What are you doing?” You asked him.

“Nothing, just getting comfortable to sleep.”

“Why do you think I moved all the way over here? To give you space.” You said with a shake of your head.

“Oh, you’re not a cuddler?” He asked.

“Oh no, I can be but we don’t do this kind of thing.” You explained.

“Well what if I want to?” He asked.

“Then maybe you should go sleep in your own house.” You said and he sighed, “It’s not that I don’t want to but…I like you Harry and I don’t want to start to not like you.” You explained and he pouted.

“How do you mean?” 

“If we…blur more lines than we already have then things can only get more complicated between us and end badly. I care about you too much to let that happen. It’s why I blocked you and why I stayed away from you this whole time.” You explained.

“You’re right.” He nodded, “I shouldn’t have shown up like this tonight. It was hard, being away from you but I was doing it.”

“Yeah.” You agreed, “So, if you want to stay here tonight, then we stay on our own sides of the bed. And this is the only time it can happen.” 

“Okay.” He agreed with ease and you smiled.

“Good.” You concluded and turned to switch off the light while Harry shuffled back over to make more space. Once again, the two of you were shrouded in the dark with more space between the two of you. 

“Is this also the last time we sleep together?” He asked into the darkness.

“I think so.” You said with a bit of uncertainty. 

And well, Harry was glad you were feeling hesitant about it, you two were quite great together. He could just end his relationship, but he didn’t feel like “the sex could be better” was really a good enough reason. Apart from things being a little bit slow in that department he would say that his relationship was good. He was happy. There was good give and take from both of them. He could see this panning out for the long haul if he really prioritized the relationship. He didn’t feel quite ready to be making those moves though. Maybe that’s why he was still clinging to you. You sparked up a part of him that made his life feel unpredictable and exciting. You were more open and freewheeling. You were just fun, whereas his girlfriend was exactly as she seemed, a calm and sweet spirit. It certainly paired well with the side of him that liked to slow down, the side of him that he wanted to be in tune with after a large world tour. That’s why he’d settled in so easily. 

But you…you were something else. Even though he tended to be a little more on the quiet side, when you were around you made him feel just as included as the person who was the extrovert of the group. You connected with the cheeky and mischievous side of him. You made him laugh and feel all warm and fuzzy inside. You were like that first taste of coffee in the morning. The very same one that gave you the feeling that were awake now and made you feel ready to face whatever came at you that day. You were incredibly unforgettable. Since the first time he’d met you, you’d constantly come up in his thoughts. The fact that he was friends with your uncle might’ve aided with that, but only by tiniest bit. The feeling that swirled in his gut and chest the very first time he locked eyes with you last summer, that’s what kept him coming back. Because even to this day, whenever he had the privilege of being in your presence, he’d feel the exact same thing. It’s like when you looked at him everything stopped. There was goodness, authenticity, and mischief in your gaze. He loved to be on the receiving end of your undivided attention. Even now, as he just laid here silently, ruminating and obsessing over all of this, he could feel that you were looking in his direction now and after a few second he felt you turn away.

You turned your head forward again and just stared up at the ceiling and sighed. “Are you upset?” You asked him softly.

“Yes and no.” he responded. You bit your lip as your fingers twitched a bit as you fought from reaching out towards his hand. But after a few seconds you just slid your hand over. When Harry felt your fingers grazing his hand he turned it palm up and let you slide your fingers into the gaps between his. 

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah, angel.” He whispered back. You two fell silent for a bit before you spoke up again.

“You know, maybe it’s a good thing I’m only your side piece. If I had you to myself I’m afraid we’d never do anything productive again.” You pondered aloud and he snorted out a laugh, causing you to giggle.

“Fucking like bunnies is actually very productive.” He added and you sputtered out a laugh.

“We wouldn’t just fuck! We’d share other hobbies.” You reminded.

“Fellatio and cunnilingus.” He mumbled before you both started sniggering again.

“I was going to say anal play but that too I guess.” You muttered and he chuckled and squeezed your hand a bit. 

“Cheeky girl.” He mumbled through his laugh.

You were fighting with all your might not to just roll over and onto him and kiss him. You liked him so fucking much, but this was wrong. You weren’t that kind of girl and he wasn’t that kind of guy. It was crazy how with the right person at your side you could and would do just about anything. You laid there thinking about it all for a few seconds and very quickly concluded that maybe one more time couldn’t hurt.

In just a few moments you were straddling Harry’s lap and leaning down to kiss him. His   arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down into him. You sighed in relief as your lips collided. Your hand was on his jaw, holding him close as you smooched his lips wetly a couple of times before he drew out his tongue and laved over your bottom lip. Your mouths soon started smacking together softly as you French kissed passionately. You could feel his boner growing beneath you and you couldn’t help yourself as you ground down onto him. His hands came down to your ass and squeezed at it, pulling you down onto him a bit harder. You moaned as his rock hard cock rubbed into your clit and you sped up your pace.

“Fuck me.” Harry mumbled his request as he gently spanked your bottom.

“Yeah?” You panted as you slowed down.

“Yeah, get my dick out.” He instructed. You slid down his thigh and tugged his briefs down carefully, allowing his cock to spring right up. He sighed in relief and you suddenly had a need to feel his weight on your tongue. You slid the rest of the way down, parting his legs as you got lower and lower until your mouth was over his cock. You guided him into your mouth, immediately sucking at his tip fervently as he moaned and rubbed over your cheek.

“Take more, angel. Take more.” He urged you. You did so without hesitation, relaxing your jaw and throat as you sunk further down. He was quite the mouthful, so there was no way of doing this neatly. It was sloppy and needy and you were enjoying it as much as he was “Fuck, that’s good, baby.” He groaned, brows creased in pleasure as you started to fondle his balls as well. His abs were starting to tense and his breathing to grow shallow. “Angel, get on me. Please, m’so fucking close.” He begged and you slowly pulled off of him.

You glanced up at him and smiled as you moved back up and knelt over him. You moved your panties to the side and he quickly reached for his cock and held it up for you. You shifted your hips a bit when you felt him up against your labia and in moments you were sinking down onto him slowly. You both moaned in relief before you went a bit further and stopped. You were getting used to his girth before sliding down a little bit more, until finally you were seated on him fully.

“Fuck, it’s so big…” you winced as you bounced over his cock. 

“I know, baby, but you take it so well. Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking good.” He groaned.

One of his big hands was holding your hips, guiding you up and down, helping you through the motions. His other hand was rubbing your clit in perfectly timed little circles. With his cock prodding right into your sweet spot and his fingers rubbing over your clit, you were quickly reaching your climax. Your skin was covered in goosebumps as you took everything in. The sensations of fucking him, of his hands on your body. The sounds of your ass smacking into his thighs with every bounce over him and your soft grunts and his moans all got you closer and closer to your orgasm. The coil of pleasure that seemed to be winding up inside of you was about to spring free. You were starting to tingle all over, your moans were increasing in pitch the closer and closer you got. 

“Oh fuck…oh fuck, I’m coming!” You gasped and he groaned as he felt your walls pulsing erratically around his cock. You started to lose your rhythm as you came all over him.

“Fuck! Fuck, you’re gonna make me come!” He warned as he started to thrust up into you hard to get himself to his orgasm and you all the way through yours. He was hammering into your g-spot and you were once again being pushed to the edge. You moaned his name in gratitude and praise as he fucked you through another orgasm. Harry held your hip with one hand while the other grabbed around your neck gently and tugged you down until you were moaning into his mouth. “Good girl.” He panted and kissed you quickly, “M’gonna come in you.” He panted and you groaned as he held you down hard, “Shit, angel? Know you want me to fuck another load into your perfect, little pussy.” He panted and you nodded, “Ask for it, then.” He said and you whined but parted your lips to speak anyway.

“Please come inside me, daddy! Please!” You implored, “I need t’feel you filling me up, H. Please!” 

How could he resist that? He grunted deeply through a handful of thrusts before gabbing your hips hard and holding you down onto his lap as he thrusted up as deep as he could and ground up into your pelvis. You were trembling over him, legs feeling like jell-o as he shot his load deep into you. You could feel the warmth of it filling you up and it was making your brain start to fog. You leaned down and kissed him gently again. His grip on your hips started to loosen up and soon his hands were gently sliding up to your waist and wrapping around you, pulling you down over him as you continued kissing hungrily as you came down from your orgasms. You were both struggling to breathe but neither of you wanted to pull away. Pulling away only meant that this would end and neither of you was quite ready for it to be over. You stayed like that, kissing and cock warming until he completely softened up and started to slip from you.

“Harry, Harry!” You giggled against his lips, “I need to clean up before I get your cum all over my sheets.” You warned and he groaned and kissed you once more.

“Alright, go on.” He said lowly, voice deep and gravely due to how late it was. You tightened up as you knelt up and scurried to the bathroom. You sat on the toilet and let his cum leak out of you before letting yourself pee. You were just sliding your panties back on when Harry peaked in. “May I?”

“Yeah.” You nodded and moved to wash your hands. 

“M’gonna steal a few wipes.” He said and you nodded.

“Yeah, whatever you need.” You assured and hurried out to just check you hadn’t stained the bed. Thankfully you hadn’t and just as you were about to turn out the lights Harry emerged from the bathroom. He hurried back and settled in and then you turned off the lights. You both got comfortable again, only this time you were resting shoulder to shoulder, not minding the proximity. You fell quiet for a bit until Harry cleared his throat.

“Are you going to go out with that guy from Amante?” He asked and you sighed.

“I think so…it’d be a good distraction.” You mumbled tiredly.

“Yeah, maybe.” He responded. “If it pans out, maybe we can all go on a double date.” He joked and you snorted and reached over to smack his tummy gently as he chuckled.

“That’d be so fucked up.” You chuckled.

“I know it might be weird, but can we still be friends?” He asked,

“We’re always friends.”

“Then don’t block me this time.” He said and you smiled.

“Then don’t call me when you’re bored and horny.” You quipped back and he chuckled.

“Deal.” He hummed and you nudged your shoulder into his playfully and he nudged you back. You guys talked about random things until you dozed off side by side. 

When you woke up the next morning, already later in the morning, you were alone but Harry had left a morning after pill on your bedside table with a glass of water, just as he’d promised.

….One Month Later….

It’d been a while since you’d crossed paths with Harry. He’d been out of the country doing his things, visiting his girlfriend, and friends in other places…really just carrying on as normal. But him being out of the country provided you the opportunity to start to go out with others as you intended. Not that you couldn’t do those things with him in the country, but knowing that he was off and with his girlfriend gallivanting around the globe made the fact clear that whatever you two had was definitely over.

You’d gone out with Eric, the guy you met at the bar at Amante’s, twice. And while he was fun to talk to, it just wasn’t that strong of a romantic connection. He was nice and smart and very respectful, but he was looking for something that would turn serious quickly. You learned he had two kids and was divorced due to irreconcilable differences and he hoped that the person he dated could also bond with his children. You weren’t ready to have anything to do with children, especially in the capacity of a caregiver, and because of that things didn’t pan out.

You were doing well enough for anyone in your position though. You sort of threw yourself into your work for a bit, which had paid off for you since you’d been very busy. You were relieved that things seemed to be taking off for Harry, it made you feel like maybe he was working everything out with his girlfriend. Or perhaps he was just accepting the fact that if he wanted a future with her that he’d have to compromise on some things. And that’s where you differed from him. 

You knew what you brought to the table and you also knew what you wanted. You didn’t think you were unreasonable in what you wanted from a partner, but your slim pickings made you think otherwise at times. You weren’t afraid of being alone, you had been alone for most of your life, save for a couple unsuccessful romantic relationships. Your companionship needs were mostly met through the close relationships you had with your friends. And when you had other physical needs that you couldn’t meet yourself, well you hooked up. It worked for you, you were still happy and quite frankly weren’t in a rush, you just wanted to enjoy your life and your youth. And if a like-minded partner came along, then great! But that didn’t mean that other people believed that you were happy with your current life path. So, when you had family things to attend you always sought out a date.

“If anyone asks you how long we’ve been together say we met a couple months ago.” You instructed as you came to a stop behind the small queue of cars outside of your uncle Rob’s home.

“Got it.” Joe, your date for the night, chuckled.

“Also, there might be a lot of famous people here so just try and be as collected as possible. Most of them are super fucking nice, but they just get weird if you start talking about their work.” You added and he nodded.

“Got it.” He confirmed. Soon enough you were getting out of the car and leaving it with the valet and you guided Joe to the side gate where everyone was entering. 

It was your aunt’s birthday and she was having a big party. There wasn’t much decor apart from flowers and balloons but there were tables placed throughout the back lawn where everyone was eating from the couple of food trucks that were hired to cater. There was also a live band and the in-ground pool had been covered and turned into a dance floor. You immediately recognized a couple of people as you made it inside and greeted them with warmth and affection before introducing Joe. Of course he was bombarded with questions and you had told him before to just make things up and you’d play along. Based on what he was saying now, you two had met when you both rushed into a cab on a rainy night in the spring. He was animatedly telling the story and his audience of two were extremely captivated by his story, looking at him with adoration at his romantic tale. 

You were giggling quietly, surveying the tables and queue formed at the bar to scope out your parents when suddenly your eyes locked on Harry’s. He smiled slightly at you and you returned his friendly gesture. It wasn’t hard to miss the girlfriend he had his arm draped over. You watched in amusement as clearly, the person they were talking to had directed a question at him, but he was too busy staring at you. You saw her slightly turn back to him and grab his attention. He was just a little flustered and shook it off with a little laugh as he turned back to the conversation. You smirked and right before you turned your attention back to Joe, she turned in your direction and almost immediately locked gazes with you. You offered a smile and while she returned a rather stiff smile, you didn’t miss the way she quickly eyed you up and down before turning her attention back to the other guest.

*************

Obviously, a lot of people wanted a moment of his time at this party, so it had been nearly half an hour before he had been able to go up and grab some food at the Indian food truck. He was just waiting off to the side, discretely scanning the crowd, hoping to spot you again, when his girlfriend grabbed his attention.

“H?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Who was that girl from before?”

“What girl?” He asked with a puzzled look on his face.

Of course, he was playing dumb, trying to make light of it to pull away any suspicion or probing. He hadn’t spoken to you in months! Whatever sporadic flings you had in the past had stayed there. However, seeing you again had him feeling on his toes. He had hoped you’d be here tonight, if only just to get a look at you. Seeing you on social media was fine, but nothing beat having you there in the flesh. Getting to see what you wore, how you’d done your hair and make up, getting to hear your voice, and then letting all those things influence his wild and incredibly vivid imagination was something he had been looking forward to. 

“The one that distracted you when we were talking to Ralph.” She reminded.

“Oh, her?” He chuckled, “That’s Rob’s niece, we’re friends. I’m sure you’ve met her before.” 

“I don’t think so…I’ve seen her around though.”

“You didn’t meet her at the Reggio show, last year?”

“Nope, was never introduced.”

“Oh well, if we spot her again we can say hello.” He smiled and she nodded before biting on her lip for a moment as she glanced around, trying to find you in the crowd again. 

Finally, she spotted you and just stared for a little bit. She saw how you seemed to know everyone and how you just seemed to light up the conversations of the people you were engaging with. Even the man on your arm was captivated. She was a little more on the shy side, especially since she didn’t know a lot of people here. And she couldn’t help but feel a little put off the more she observed you from afar. It seemed that you were completely over the top, possibly an ass-kisser. Just another one of those opportunistic nepo industry plants, greasing the wheels at any opportunity you’d get and this was the perfect place to do that. She hoped that your paths wouldn’t cross tonight, she wasn’t in the mood to feign interest in someone who could possibly be using Harry to get her foot in the door.

************

The night had been unexpectedly fun for you, Joe was a hoot. And although you’d been planning on just dropping him off at home at the end of the night, the way he was handling all of these people had you seriously considering spending the night with him. You’d run into a lot of people you hadn’t seen in a long while, caught up with your parents and other family members, and introduced them to Joe. You’d danced, shared some food with him, and on top of that, you had been actively avoiding a run in with Harry and his girlfriend like it was your life’s mission. You hadn’t run into him yet, so you drank a little more, let loose, and right as you settled into that lovely, carefree, and vulnerable place in the bosom of your buzz you spotted him coming through the crowd. Once again your eyes locked and his smile brightened.

“Y/N!” He called out to you and you smiled and raised your hand from around Joe’s shoulder to wave at him. You saw him pulling his girlfriend along behind him as he approached. 

“Harry! Hi!” You greeted with excitement and started to stand. Now that you had a good dosage of alcohol in your system you were less nervous about seeing him. But as the pair got closer you noticed a slight jerk of his arm and realized that he was trying release his hand from hers but she wasn’t letting him go. But after another tug he was free and hurrying ahead and then his body collided with yours in a tight hug.

“It’s good to see you.” He hummed as he swayed your bodies a little bit for a few seconds. Your hand rubbed at his back, right between his shoulder blades a couple of times before you started to pull back. He wasn’t letting go though.

“H, let go.” You whispered discretely and he immediately loosened his grip before he twirled around to grab his girlfriend’s hand again and you turned to see Joe already standing.

“Love, this is my friend, Y/N.” Harry introduced you to her as soon as you turned around again.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you.” You greeted her with a smile and extended hand. She returned the pleasantry and you proceeded to introduce Joe, “This Joe, my date.” You shared with them and Harry was quick to reach his hand out and greet him. When Joe then turned his attention to Harry’s girlfriend, you saw Harry size him up a bit and you smiled.

“-do you guys want to sit?” Is what you heard Joe ask and Harry immediately accepted and you saw his girlfriend’s face fall a bit before she put on a smile and sat as Harry pulled a chair out for her.

It was all small talk at first, but his girlfriend soon saw that you weren’t being fake. Even as you talked about the most mundane things, you were positive and funny and engaging. It genuinely got under her skin that she was wrong about you, but you were just fun and good at being outgoing. It kind of made her blood boil because you weren’t even dressed all flashy to get attention, it just came to you from everyone, including Harry. She was more than relieved though when Harry asked how it was that you and Joe met. Joe turned to you and you just smiled and nodded, allowing him to take over and share that. She just didn’t want to hear your voice anymore, it was pissing her off. 

So when Joe went off on his story-telling tangent about how you’d met at a cat adoption fair and were fighting for the same one, she just focused on that. Meanwhile, Harry stole a quick glance at you because he knew it was absolute bullshit. You really disliked cats, something to do with there only being room for one sassy ass-hole in your household.

“-and in the end I got the cat and the girl so…win, win.” He smirked at you as he finished his story and you giggled.

“Lucky you.” You hummed with adoration in your gaze. 

Despite all of that bullshit, the way you were looking into Joe’s eyes was as real as it got. Harry couldn’t help but feel his insides knotting up with jealously as he felt the tension between the two of you and saw that there was sufficient attraction there. His girlfriend didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched for a few seconds before he reached for his drink.

“So what did you say you did for work?” His girlfriend asked you.

“Oh, I dabble in several things in the music industry, just kind of float about.” You gave her the short answer. It was the truth, you did a lot of things! You were a studio musician, you engineered, you composed, you assisted production and when you went off on that in specifics you found that you had to explain a lot and you were a little too buzzed for that right now so you kept it very surface level.

“Mmm…I’m sure your uncle can help you get on your feet and connect with the right people to develop your skills if you’re still, you know trying to figure out what you're good at or find something more…established.” She said with a polite smile, but her tone and the look in her eyes made you read between the lines. You were about to respond and just agree with the evidently irritated woman before you when Harry turned to her.

“Actually, Y/N is a very accomplished musician by her own right.” Harry cut in and when she turned to him you just shook your head, asking him not to engage or jump in to try and defend you. You were used to these kinds of comments by now, but he ignored your cue. “She plays like five different instruments and often plays in and edits for film scores. Weren’t you the second chair cellist in the philharmonic orchestra right out of college?” He asked and you just smiled politely.

“That was a long time ago.” You added, trying to make him get the hint to stop. “She’s right though, I’ve been more interested in the composition and production side of things lately, so my uncle has introduced me to a few colleagues to help me learn the more practical side of that. Having a degree in it can only get you so far.” 

“Yeah, but he doesn’t like give you jobs just because you're his niece.” Harry said, cutting straight to the point of what his girlfriend had been suggesting.

“Well, no, I certainly need to earn those by my own merits.” You chuckled, “But I mean, like anything in the entertainment industry, it’s nearly impossible to get into without some sort of internal connections.” You confirmed what she'd alluded to with a smile.

“Or without having the potential to be an absolute legend.” Joe added as he gestured towards Harry, who chuckled and glanced down at his hands on the table with a modest shake of his head.

“Exactly. Whatever you have is so special. It’s brilliant that you’re modest about it, because truly some people aren’t.” You added, “But I mean, we all know you’re one in a million, H.” You chuckled and he glanced up at you.

“Well, thank you for thinking that.” He said bashfully and you smiled.

“Of course.” You smiled. 

After that, things got a little awkward with his girlfriend. So you tried to talk about her and what she had going on but she seemed to be quite shut down and the topic shifted to Joe and what he did. He was a sociology professor at the University of West London, so he had a lot to say if you guys kept talking about him. However, it wasn’t hard to miss that she was clearly upset at Harry. She even seemed annoyed when he draped his jacket over her shoulders as a cool breeze started to blow around you all. Just as things started to get unbearably weird the music stopped.

“Everyone, if we can gather on the dance floor, we’re going to sing “Happy Birthday�� in just a few moments!” Your uncle announced. You were so grateful for this divinely timed interruption.

“Yay! Time for cake!” You said with excitement and shot out of your seat. Harry and his girlfriend stood as well and he watched as Joe chuckled at you and shrugged off his own jacket. He quietly asked if you were cold, “I’m alright, quite warm from the alcohol.” You assured him, so he just draped it over the chair. 

You two waited for Harry and his girlfriend before making your way over to the dance floor with everyone else. It started to fill up and before long you all started to sing along to the band playing the “Happy Birthday” tune. You and Harry were standing beside each other and in your state, you were having a hard time ignoring your desire to nestle into his side and inhale his cologne. He looked so fucking good. Yes, Joe was a proper hottie, but Harry was Harry. You were drawn to him and he to you, you were magnetic. 

You were starting to realize that it didn’t matter how much time or distance you two let pass by, you were drawn to each other. And when you saw each other again you had to be near him and you loved that it felt like no time had passed at all. Your connection transcended time and distance and that terrified you, because you were starting to realize that if he wanted to string you along as his side piece for the rest of his life, it could very well happen. It didn’t matter that it was wrong to everyone else because it didn’t feel that way to you or to him.

And just as the band played the final note with a colorful flare, your aunt laughed happily and blew out the candles and everyone’s cheering was interrupted by surprised gasps as some fireworks erupted in the sky. You smiled brightly as you looked up at the beautiful colors painting the night sky. And in the midst of your awe at the scene before you, you felt hisHarry's finger grazing your own and the air suddenly left your lungs. You felt your mouth dry up nervously and you swallowed thickly before extending your pinky out to graze against his own. You saw him smile from your peripherals as he locked your fingers together. Such a small gesture had your mind blurring and your body tingling with excitement and relief. 

Shortly after the fireworks and some cake, people started to head out. You made sure to take Joe around to say goodbye to your family before they all left. They were all very happy to meet him and made it clear that they hoped to see him again soon. He nodded along but knew better than that. Regardless of reality, he was so sweet and acknowledged their kind wishes. He had really done an amazing job being your date and you were intent on repaying him all of the effort he had put in for you tonight.

“Ready to go?” He asked and you nodded.

“I just need to use the bathroom. Do you?”

“No, I’m good.” He assured you.

“Okay, I’m gonna try and sneak into a bathroom upstairs and then find my aunt to give her, her present. Can you grab the car from the valet? I’ll meet you there.” 

“Yeah, of course.” He smiled and you thanked him and then dug the little ticket out of your purse before handing it over. 

“Alright, I’ll meet you out there. I won’t be long!” You assured and hurried off.

**************

Harry kept a close eye on you after the crowd dispersed after the fireworks. He was itching to be near you again. Especially since his girlfriend was no longer in a good mood. He wasn’t nearly as preoccupied about that though. He would certainly hear it all tomorrow when she'd let it simmer inside long enough that it just had to come out. 

"I need to go to the bathroom before we go." she said.

"Okay, that's fine there's the line." he said nodding towards it, "I need to talk to Rob about something before we go." he fibbed and she hummed and glanced at the remaining guests. She hadn't said anything as she scanned the area, she was looking for you. Luckily for him, he'd seen you head into the house. "Look, s'getting longer." he said, refocusing her attention back on the line and she huffed.

"Damn it."

"Just go. I'll come find you when I'm done." he assured and she walked off. And he rushed through the crowd to get inside before she saw where he went.

**************

You were going to be quick about this since you’d left Joe to get in line for your car. As you washed your hands you gave yourself a quick look over and were pleased that your makeup was still intact and that you were still satisfied with the casual, black dress you’d chosen to wear. You then reached for the hand towel to dry your hands off and as you opened up the door you gasped in fright, not expecting to see Harry standing there in the dark hallway. He wordlessly pushed you and himself back inside before closing the door and looking right into your eyes.

“What’re you doing here?! If she finds out that you’re-”

“I don’t want to think about her right now.” He shook his head, rejecting the topic you were trying to bring up. You were suddenly struggling to breathe as his hands came up to hold your face tenderly, “I’m so happy you’re here.” He whispered, “You look so pretty.”

“You look good too.” You returned the compliment.

“Yeah?” He asked softly and you smiled and nodded, “Didn’t shave because I hoped I’d see you here. Know you like it when I grow out m’facial hair.” He hummed softly and you smiled in endearment.

“Are you just gonna stare or are you planning on kissing me at some point?” You questioned with a smirk and he grinned as he leaned in. 

Your kiss was a little unsuccessful at first, given that you were giggling and smiling like fools. But as soon as your teeth dug into his bottom lip he groaned and grabbed your hips before pushing you up against the door. Your lips met with urgency and you kissed ardently as his hips kept your body pinned to the door. One of his hands slid up the back of your dress and smoothed over your bottom. You were wearing a thong because of the sleek look of the dress, but you were glad that it was beneficial for this too. His other hand squeezed over your right breast before he started to fondle it as you held him close by the belt loops. He had just started rutting against your front when your phone started to ring in your purse.

“Just ignore it.” He mumbled.

“Can’t.” You said and he huffed before kissing your chin and then working his way up your jaw and to your ear lobe as you blindly grabbed the phone out of your bag. You saw Joe’s name on the screen and answered it.

“Hello?” You spoke quietly as Harry moved down to your neck.

“Hey, there’s one person ahead of me.” He informed and you held in a whimper as Harry started to suck right where your jaw and neck met.

“O-okay. Just looking for my aunt to give her the card I got her.” You fibbed.

“Okay, if they come before you get here I’ll wait right outside the gate.”

“Alright, I’ll be there soon.” You assured and hung up quickly without letting him say another thing. You hissed as Harry sucked a bit harder, doing his best to leave his mark on your skin. “H-how am I gonna explain this? I was trying to get laid tonight.” You mumbled and he chuckled as he pulled away and kissed his way back up to your lips.

“You could still get laid.” He said with a smug grin as he hovered directly over you. His words were practically traced against your lips, it was making you dizzy.

“I think a fresh love bite from another man might be a bit off putting.” You replied with snark and he smirked.

“Then maybe you should get fucked by the person who marked you.” He suggested and you chuckled and sighed, “Please, angel. Just one more time.”

“Go fuck your girlfriend.” You suggested playfully and his smile faded and he shook his head.

“I don’t want her.” He responded as his eyes met yours with sincerity and clarity. 

Hearing him say that filled you with a bit of arrogance but more than that, there was relief. Relief that maybe, he was as down bad for you as you were for him. You tiptoed and then grabbed his jaw before leaning in to kiss him deeply before pulling back.

“Find a way to sneak out and come over. I’ll leave a spare key taped to the inside of the little slot for the post.” You said and he bit his lip to try and diminish the size of his smile.

“Okay. I’ll text when I leave mine. Might be late.”

“S’alright. I’ll wait for you.” You assured him as you looked deep into his beautiful, jade eyes. 

Something about the way you were saying it told him that you meant that in a way more complex than just plotting for a hook up. His gaze softened and he leaned in and kissed you delicately.

“Will you really?” He asked and you nodded, “Then say it again.” He whispered.

“I’ll wait for you, Harry.” You mumbled against his kiss-swollen lips and he kissed you deeply once more before slipping out of the bathroom quickly. 

You sighed and proceeded to lick over your lips. You could still slightly taste his minty lip balm smeared against them. You were smiling at yourself in the mirror, already feeling a little stupid for being so weak when it came to Harry as you shook your head and smirked before rolling your eyes.

“The things I do for love…”

_ _ _ _

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[smuttyaf]

I Hate You

𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐛𝐨𝐲!𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲. 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞

wc: 5.4k

“If you don’t stop I’m going to jam that pen through your ear.”

That makes the curly brunette man take his thumb off the button, eyes shifting to give a sidelong glance at you, his mouth slightly agape as he takes in the words.

You had enough of the fingers drumming against the wooden table, the shifting around in his seat constantly, and you definitely had it when he begin clicking his pen away as if you weren’t beside him through this whole class.

“I wanna see you try.” He whispers back, his head turning to smirk at you as his pen now taps against the table gently. Oh, did you want to ring your hands around his neck.

Harry Styles, the man on campus that everyone is friends with and the one that has all the ladies gossiping about. Despite him being known for his social life he also was part of a fraternity. They were popular for throwing the most outrageous parties but also pulling the stupidest pranks throughout the year— you absolutely despised them. Sloppy drinking, chain-smoking, and making themselves look like complete idiots streaking during the schools football games.

So when you walked into your English Lit class and your teacher decided to sit you next to each other for the whole semester, you wanted to claw your eyes out. Every class he would come in and purposely let his bag hit your head, his feet kicking the leg of your chair as his knees would dig into your lower back before taking his seat. At first, you paid no mind to it because it was a tight space to fit in, however when it became an everyday occurrence and his sarcastic smile and fake tone of apologies would start you would just roll your eyes.

But, him sitting next you in class wasn’t the worse thing… It was the fact that your dorm roommate was dating one of his fraternity brothers. So nearly every weekend or event that they hosted, you always managed to get dragged along to have him pick on you.

You didn’t like Harry at all. You didn’t like his stupid curls, his laugh, or tattoos that make him look like a unfinished scrapbook, and you definitely did not like the fact that he stares back at you as if you were a joke.

You squint your eyes at him and press your lips together, your fingers that were pressed into the keys of your laptop curling in on themselves as you resist the urge to strike him.

“Easy there,” He chuckles, his eyes flickering to your balled up fists before turning his head towards the teacher, the grey haired man stands in front of the podium making drastic gestures with his hands. “You wouldn’t hurt me, now would you?” Harry questions, his pen going behind his ear as he closes his laptop and notebook, stuffing it into his bag.

Before you know it, Mr. Dawson is announcing the homework for over the weekend while telling everyone he’ll see them Monday. The seat next to you pushes away from the table, and you feel his feet kick your chair and knees dig into your back. Only making your fists grow even tighter, you plant your feet flat on the carpet and push your chair against his bent legs, that makes a groan escape Harry’s lips as you stand with your closed laptop and bag, eyes staring into each other as you look at him amused.

“You wouldn’t hurt me, now would you?” You mock him before tugging off to the library.

Why couldn’t you have one encounter with him were he wasn’t a complete dickhead.

White mini skirt and matching tube top cling to your skin, the pink cropped leather jacket shifted tightly on your shoulders as your feet tip toe towards the mirror to see yourself. You thought you looked stupid, but Faye thought otherwise.

“You need to dress like this more,” She insisted, her brown eyes wide as they scaled your body. You shook your head and groan.

“Like a joke?” You sigh, your head leaning to the side as you looked at your figure. You were never one to dress in revealing clothes, you loved crewnecks and cargo pants, especially your Converses and Vans.

“Hey!” Faye says while giving you a puzzled look.

“You know what I mean, this stuff looks good on you… not me…” You say, body now turning in the mirror to see your side profile.

You had no choice but to dress as if you were a plastic doll. The Barbie movie just recently came out which made Faye’s boyfriend, Niall, think it would be a good idea to throw a party insisting everyone dress up as if they were in “Barbie’s Dream House”. That’s why you’re standing in the mirror, white opened toed heels and curled hair staring back at you as Faye tried to make you look like Biker Barbie.

“You look hot Y/N, don’t overthink it,” She says while taking your shoulders in her hands and shaking you gently, making you let out a nervous laugh.

She’s right, don’t overthink it, you’ll most likely be surrounded by dim lights and drunken bodies that no one will even notice your change of appearance.

However, despite those words that played over and over again in the back of your head, your thoughts begin to fill as you stepped into the house. Each person you passed by, gazing their eyes over your skin, lazy smiles sent your way while winks would drop other times, and you just simply wanted to disappear.

“Let’s go get a drink,” Faye yells in your ear over the pumping music. You nod your head in agreement and made your way into the familiar kitchen.

“Fancy seeing you here!” The usual Irish voice of Niall calls to Faye as he brings her into embrace. You let a small smile slip on your lips before you see Harry next to him with an amused face.

As Faye and Niall chatted with each other while taking red cups apart to pour liquor in, Harry stepped closer to you; his curls are tossed away behind his ears as he had a sleeveless light blue jean jacket with matching pants on, his tattoos exposed and glistening against the lights.

“You look good for once!” He quips, his red cup knocking against his chest. The smile falls from your lips as you send daggers at him.

“Do you ever shut up,” You say, your eyes tearing away from him and to the red cup that Faye hands you.

“Hey! I was being nice for once!” Harry chimed, lips dropping into a pout as you watch his free hand raise to his chest in hurt. Instead, you ignore him and pay attention to whatever Faye was talking about but that doesn’t last long when you feel a finger poke your hip and you’re glaring back at the tattooed man.

“Am I not Kenough?” He questions, and that only makes you snort as a laugh trails out after, understanding his reference. “There it is,” Harry grins as he takes a drink from his cup. You only roll your eyes and focus back on the previous conversation.

“Whatever,” You mutter while taking a sip of your overly strong drink.

Soon that cup turned to four more, the overthinking thoughts about how embarrassing you thought you looked tonight slipped your mind as you were dancing with the cute boy in your Social Science course, your hands wrapped around the nape of his neck as he runts his hips against your backside.

For once, you were actually happy that you came to the party and drunk more than your normal limit. You were fed up with school and with midterms around the corner, you needed this type of fun. As you felt the room beginning to twist in your version, you turn around in Caleb’s hold and let your hands rest along his chest.

“Tired?” He questions, brown eyes peering down at you as his lips tucked into his teeth. You nodded your head in response, your finger tips feeling over his flannel as you lean into him.

“Let’s go upstairs Kels,” Caleb leans down and whispers but that only makes a frown tug on your lips.

“Kels? I’m Y/N.” You state, tone filled with annoyance that the man you had your eyes on in class had his elsewhere. You feel his head move away from your ear, his eyes raking over your face as a goofy grin begins to spread.

“Oh! Y/N! You look so different… you’re not dressed like a boy, I like it!” Caleb says, only making your stomach twist in disgust.

“Yeah…” You say, small smile replacing the frown as you feel yourself step back from his touch. “I’m just gonna go to the washroom,” You rush, tearing away from his hold and not waiting for his response.

You felt your throat begin to swell as you tried to push your way through the mess of people on the makeshift dance floor. You’re not dressed like a boy. Was he serious? That’s what he thought when he saw you? Even the fact that he called you someone else’s name! You wanted to crawl into your bed and die.

Shouts begin to ring out as the floor vibrates, everyone jumping to the party anthem playing which only makes your exit out of the living room worse. You felt your cheeks heat up and tears at the brim of your eyes, just wanting to go to the bathroom as soon as possible to let them escape.

But just your luck, as the chorus rings through the air the floor boards pound under your heels, you feel cool liquid running from your chest to your stomach. Brown booze dripping on the burrowed two piece outfit and at that point you feel your ears burn, and if you could grow horns out of your head you’re sure they would be there.

Your gaze turns away from your sticky stomach and towards the culprit who spilled it on you, your eyes meeting the familiar green ones who sits next to you in English. As your lips press together and your finger nails leave indents in your skin, you watch Harry’s eyes bulge and his mouth drop in complete shock.

“I— I’m so sorry.. I d—didn’t mean too—“

“I hate you.” You spew, cutting him off and giving him an icy glare. Your body immediately brushing past him and traveling upstairs to get away from the party that you now wished you didn’t attend at all.

Of course, Harry had to be the one to top off this moment and ruin your outfit that you know you’d have to pay Faye back for— because this was definitely not coming out. You could handle his kicking and snarky comments, but draw the line at him completely damaging something that didn’t belong to you.

You were pissed, drunk, and wanted to be buried six feet under; but instead you stomped your way up the stairs and into an empty bedroom.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you see the stain taking up the white material, only making your eyes press shut as you feel tears begin to trail down your cheeks. This was so embarrassing; first you’re wearing something you wouldn’t ever step out in, you finally have a moment with the guy you’ve been staring at since the beginning of the semester— just for him to say you dress like a boy! And to top it off, now you have a full cup of god knows what all over you. This night sucked.

“Y/N…” You hear Harry’s voice behind the door with a knock. You open your eyes and roll them, throat letting a sigh slip out as you run your fingers against your cheeks, wiping away the tears.

“What.” You say back, turning around to rest your back against the sink.

“I—I’m being so honest with you, I didn’t mean to spill my drink on you, I promise, it was a mistake.” Harry said behind the door, his voice muffled but you can tell for once he actually sounds sincere, but who knows he also could be faking it to make you feel better.

“Sure Harry,” You called back, hand leaning down as you rake your fingers through your hair, the tear streaks drying on your skin and making your cheeks feel tight when you speak.

With surprise you heard the rumble of the door knob and soon is faced with Harry who actually has a sad look written on his features.

“Ever heard of privacy,” You mutter, your eyes tearing away from his and looking at the white tiled floor.

“It’s my bathroom,” Harry responds, only making you suck in your breath and fingers drum against the porcelain sink, not realizing it was his room you escaped too.

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave.” You rush, eyes still down as you break away from your stance and move towards the door. That only makes Harry stand in front of you and block your movements.

“No it’s okay don’t worry, it’s my fault. Believe me Y/N, I really didn’t mean to fuck up your outfit.” He says, genuinely which makes your gaze tear and lock with his. Your breath catches in your throat because for once he doesn’t have a menacing look.

“Okay.” You say, lips being sucked into your mouth as your stare never wavers.

“L—Let me get you a change of clothes,” Harry urges, his feet stepping back as he makes his way out of the bathroom and walk over to his dresser. This makes you trail behind him as your hands tug at the bottom of the dirty skirt riding up.

“Oh spare clothes of the girls you sleep with, yay,” You sarcastically remarked, heels clicking against the floor boards as you followed him.

“Ha ha.” Harry says, his voice serious as he dug into his top drawer and pulled out a plain black tee. That only makes you chew down on your lip, your fingers taking the garment in your hand, eyes running over how big it is compared to your frame.

“Trust me, everyone will be too drunk to remember what people were wearing tonight,” He spoke, both of his hands going to either side of him as he leans against the dresser, and maybe it’s the alcohol in your system but the way he is against the furniture with his jacket opened displaying his tattoos, has your mind forgetting about his treatment towards you over the past few months.

“I figured,” You mumble as you tear the t-shirt away from your chest and your eyes flicker between it and the brunette before you. “Uh.. can you turn around?” You question while beginning to shrug off the pink leather jacket.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Harry scoffs while tearing his tattooed arm off the dresser and letting his hand cover his eyes. You scoff while kicking off your heels and tugging the damp clothing off your skin. “What?” Harry counters, you see his eyebrows push together in his palm as he questions your response.

“I just dress like a boy… that’s all. I bet I’m not exactly the girl you look at…” You mumble, the feeling of the clean fabric running down your skin makes your fingers gaze over it.

“I think you dress cute,” Harry confesses. The compliment making your cheeks heat up and your palms grow with sweat. You really shouldn’t even be glowing from his words. This was the guy who tormented you since September; hitting you with his book bag, giving snarky comments and mean jabs. Why are his words making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“You’re just saying that, let’s not forget what you said in the kitchen…” You respond, leaning down and picking up the drenched clothing and balling them together. “You can look now.” You state, as you see him put his hand down and give you a bright smile. The way he’s acting so different from what you’re use to, maybe it’s the alcohol in both of your systems.

“You know I was just teasing… but why does it even matter?” Harry ask, that only makes your eyes tear away and look at your polished toes running over each other against the dark hard wood.

“It’s nothing… it’s whatever really,” You sigh, fingers now playing with the ends of his shirt.

“Is that what the guy you were dancing with told you?” Harry asks, only making your head snap up and send him questioning gaze.

“You were watching me?” You inquire. His turn to now dip his head down and avoid your eyes.

“I wouldn’t say that… I just noticed, that’s all.” He says, his head swinging a bit as he lifts himself off the dresser and makes a step towards you, his hand taking the wet clothes.

“Promise I’ll get the stain out,” He remarks, a goofy look on his face and that only makes you smirk.

“Make that promise to Faye, not me.”

“Fuck… She’s gonna have me dead.”

The two of you erupting in drunken laughter at the image of Faye seeing her ruined garments, just knowing the screaming match she’ll have with Harry.

“Why can’t you be like this all the time?” You asked, your hand reaching to your chest as you try to regain your breath.

“You’re the one who hates me,” Harry says giving you a pointed look. “You’re the one who’s mean to me.” You remark your chin tilting as you stare up at him.

“You can’t even blame me,” He smiles while rolling his eyes, his arms crossing over each other and the heat of him radiates onto your body. “You’re cute when you’re mad.” His head leaning down and placing a small peck on your lips.

You were stunned in place, your eyes still open as he continues to place small kisses on your lips. As you leaned in closer to him, his hands tore away from his chest to drop the clothes and hold your hips. What the fuck was actually going on right now? You were really kissing Harry and it felt good— you didn’t want to admit.

The peppering kisses turned into lips syncing onto each other, your eyes now fluttering shut while your hands lie on his inked chest. It felt so wrong but the way his lips tasted of cherry coke and rum, you wanted to get drunk off it.

Deep breathes and needy hands were soon shared between the both, your fingers were now running through the hair on the nape of his neck while his roams your backside. The way his huge hands were pushing your cheeks and shoving you closer to him made you wet.

You pulled away from his lips, a string of saliva linking you too together which makes Harry smirk, his eyes glossy and lips bruised red. You wanted to fuck him so bad.

“You’re a shit kisser.” You remark. His smirk falling as his hands tighten around your ass.

“Shut up,” He mutters before pressing his lips roughly against yours, his fingers slipping deeper to cup your bum, some digits gliding over your heat only making you whimper at the touch.

His tongue tangled with yours as his chest closed the space left between you two. Harry’s weight molding onto you as he forces you to take steps back until your knees hit the bed frame and you’re falling back onto the mattress. You let your elbows push you up on the bed, your eyes locking with his as he lowers himself on you, his lips pressing back against you as your thighs bring him in.

His clothed member pushes against your heat which only makes a whimper escape, you still can’t get over that he has his tongue in your mouth but now you’re making him hard. Was this really the same guy you were cussing at just a few hours ago.

Harry’s hands move away from your shoulders and spread to where your thighs hold him, the way his hands feel running down your skin has you pushing yourself deeper into his touch.

“Easy there…” He mutters against your lips when he pulls away, his lips traveling to your neck to then run over your clothed breasts, his eyes looking to yours as his lips gaze your nipples. You wanted to moan at the sight, the way his curls surrounded his face, his green orbs staring back at you while he descended down your body.

“Harry,” You whisper when you feel his breath rush over your stomach, his hands slipping under his shirt and feeling over your hips before playing with the band of your panties.

His response to the call of his name, was peeling the material down your legs and his mouth pressing open kisses onto your hip bone. Your heart beat was making your chest hurt from how nervous yet excited you are; was this really about to happen?

Your question was soon answered when you felt his breath against your heat, his hands pushing the shirt over your hips as you watch his curls brush against your inner thighs when you feel him lick a stripe up your folds. This made you dig your teeth into your bottom lip because, yeah this was happening.

Green eyes looking back at you as his tongue runs back up your slit to let it circle around your clit, lips suckling on the nerves before dangling it with his tongue again. This made your head knock back and your eyes flutter shut, he was teasing you, like he always does.

His mouth repeats those motions as moans tremble from your lips, head resting on your shoulder as you look at him sucking your folds. You let your free hand run through his hair, tugging at it lightly.

“I know you can do better than that.” You remark, eyes batting at him slowly as you push back down on him. In that moment you swear you watched his eyes glaze over a different shade, his hands gripping against your hips roughly as he lets his tongue delve into you.

Thick and slicked with spit his muscle flexed it’s way between your folds, his nose rubbing against your clit as he licked into you, humming against your heat as his nails left indents in your skin. Words can’t even express how it felt, the way his tongue just roamed inside you so wickedly that it had whimpers and moans leave you.

The view of him was even better, his eyes fluttering as he looked like he was pleased with the way you tasted, his hair falling over his forehead. The look of Harry between your legs only makes you moan again and squeeze your thighs against his face, his fingers bruising your skin from how hard he’s holding you.

You let your back completely fall to the mattress, both hands now carding though his hair as you let your hips roll against his mouth, his tongue now lying flat against your heat as he lets you ride him. Hips running up and down the expanse of his muscle, clit smoothing against taste buds as you work yourself on him, Harry’s mouth moaning against your pussy as he peeled his eyes open to stare at you, the sight making you moan immediately.

You were too tipsy to even comprehend that this was actual reality; you were suppose to hate Harry, despise him! Yet, he was between your legs and sending shockwaves throughout your nerves.

Fingers tighten in the curly locks as your hips stutter and jerk on his tongue, the sinking feeling in your abdomen tightens as your orgasm creeps upon you. The feeling of his fingers pushing down on your hips making you seep deeper into the mattress, and moan at the roughness of his touch.

The ball in your stomach begins to build, your chest breathing in shallow breaths as your thighs twitch, his tongue licking you into bliss. Just as you feel the nerves in your stomach nearly burst, the heat of his muscle tears away and makes a cry leave your lips while Harry placed wet kisses up your body.

“You didn’t think I was gonna let you get off this easy,” Harry hums against you, his hands leaving your hips and letting it rake his shirt over your head. They then go to take off his jacket and tug his jeans down, your hands immediately going to peel his boxers down his thighs.

“For someone who hates me so much, you really want my dick right now,” He mutters, his hand going to his exposed member and rubbing himself, the sight making you clench your legs.

Now, you can really see what the girls on your campus were talking about; the way his hair dropped in loose curls surrounding his face, tattoos that flex so nicely in the dim lighting of the room, and the way he’s staring at you like he’s craving you. You finally see it.

Harry lets himself run against your heat, his head lying on your clit and rubbing over it only making you suck in a breath. He was pressed so nice and warm against you while toying with your nerves. Seconds later, he leans down and lets drool slip from between his lips to trace down his dick to drip between your exposed folds. You wanted to look at this sight forever, but you hate the fact that you like this so much but can’t help but too, Harry was hot you had to admit.

The thoughts leave your mind when you feel his head slip into you, edging himself back out slowly before continuing to seep back in. Once again, he was teasing you but you had enough with this game since you just wanted the feeling of him inside you finally.

You let your hands dig into the sheets while moving your hips down on him, his dick slipping deeper into you which only elects moans from both of you. The thickness of him buried around your tight walls sends a blissful sensation of yourself stretching around him, your mouth hangs slightly open while your eyes flutter.

Harry doesn’t take the chance to tease you anymore, instead he slips all of himself inside of you before drawing back slowly and sinking into your dripping pussy. His head leaning down to lay in the crook of your neck and press kisses against the skin there, while he continue to peel his hips back and dive back into you.

“Pussy feels so good,” Harry grunts into your ear as he begins to pick up the pace and smack his hips against yours.

Your eyes peel open and let your hands rest along his ribs, your head knocked back into the pillows and gaze caught between the loose ringlets of his curls and the popcorn ceiling, as the sound of the wetness between your legs is accompanied by the slamming of his hips fills the room. You couldn’t remember the last time you had mind blowing sex like this, it must be months now. But, the wait was definitely worth it, because the feeling of Harry’s dick diving into you while his grunts and moans filled your ear was something that you wanted to last forever.

Yet, you still couldn’t believe it was him doing this to you. You don’t think you’ll ever get over this. The man you’re suppose to hate is filling your walls and captivating every cell in your body to fall under his spell.

“You fill me up so—“ You’re words being cut off when you feel Harry pull himself out until his head is breached and thrust back into you, the motions repeating themselves which only makes your mouth hang open and your nails sink into his skin.

Completely cut off guard by the change of his rhythm, you were starstruck. Your eyes fluttering close and letting him do absolutely whatever he wanted to you, just accepting the fact that he was digging into you so deliciously that you had no words to express what you were feeling.

The smell of rum and cherry fills your nose as you feel his lips link with you, his mouth moaning when your tongues lock together, hips never stopping their tantalizing movements. The feeling of him filling up your pussy with his thickness, the way you managed to become more wet by the different flow of his hips, the way his body heat covered you like a blanket.

The familiar feeling of your climax welcomes you again as Harry keeps on thrusting himself inside of you. The ball in your stomach, unraveling with each stroke only making your thighs clench tighter and pull him into you more.

“Mhm… you like me fucking you?” Harry breathes against your lips only making you cry out in frustration as you feel yourself beginning to come apart underneath him, and the fact that he’s talking to you like this is only bringing it on even more.

You nodded your head silently, eyes fluttering open to peer into his olive ones while his bushy eyebrows were knit together.

“Answer me,” He continues his hand that was by your head wrapping around your throat and you knew just by the feeling of his fingers against the skin there, you were done.

“Yes,” You cried out, eyes never tearing away as you felt the bundle of nerves in your stomach burn inside you. Your legs shaking, thighs wrapping tighter around him and nails now dragging down his sides tiredly as the feeling of pure euphoria washes over you.

Harry thrusts however never slowed down, he kept the rhythm while staring down at you, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip as he watched your face go through phases of pleasure. Your fingers leave his back and trail to his neck, legs hanging loosely around him while you stare back up at him, the beating in your heart slowing down compared to the way it was erratically beating before.

“You’re so hot when you come all over me,” He mutters, his head dipping down and now sucking bruises onto your skin. Butterflies spread in your stomach and to stop a smile from forming you bite the inside of your cheek.

His hips begin to slow, breath blowing over you shallowly and the feeling of him sliding between your walls steadily, only making you crane your neck to the side to get him to look at you. Harry tears his head away from your neck, his lips stuck between his teeth and brows still furrowed.

“Fuck,” He grunts, the feeling of him buried in your heat immediately withdrawn as his warm seed spills on your stomach. You watch his chest heave up and down as he regains his breath. Soon, the warmth of him leaves your body as you watch him sit back on his knees, his arm reaching over to his discarded shirt you once wore and wiping away the fluid.

“Seems like you just make a mess everywhere you go,” You remark, that only makes Harry let out a small laugh before tossing his shirt on the floor. He tugs his boxers over his hips and kicks the rest of his jeans off, you let yourself slip into the sheets while he lies next you.

The room grows quiet, the only sound being heard is the party downstairs. Now your thoughts run wild, you’ve sobered up a bit but still in a daze, wondering if Harry is regretting what just happened.

“Are you going to go back to hating me after this?” Harry asked, his voice deep as he turned to look you.

Fingers twisting together, you let your gaze turn away from him and look at the sheets before you. If you were being honest, you were more confused then anything about what this meant and how you felt towards him now; you couldn’t explain how you felt, still stuck between the way he treated just hours before to how he made you feel just minutes ago, how can you explain what you feel?

“You’ll just have to wait and see…”

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #smuttyaf #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #hs #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fandom #harry styles fic rec #frat boy harry #fratboy!harry

[stylesloveclub]

sunshine (making out blurb)

first blurb for grumpyrry x sunshine virgin y/n!!!

sunshine masterlist

+++

Y/n’s math homework is always a little less horrible when she’s doing it with Harry.

When it’s just her doing calculus by herself, it’s miserable. She gets stressed out as soon as she gets a problem wrong, overwhelmed by all the weird symbols and shortcuts that she doesn’t know. Calculus is just so stupidly hard! She usually has to spend an hour just reading the textbook and finding videos to help her understand whatever they just learned in class… until she eventually gives up and goes to bed. 

It’s different with Harry though. There’s something about the way he explains things to her that just makes it make sense. She’s told him time and time again that he should be the one up there teaching the class instead of her stupid professor. He makes math easy. A big part of it might be because he’s right there to catch her mistakes and answer her questions if she gets stuck, but also he’s just a really good teacher. He breaks concepts down for her in a way that isn’t all complicated and math-y, but like a fun little puzzle. And if she doesn’t get it, he’ll do the problem right in front of her, explaining every step and pausing to make sure she gets it. He’s patient and motivating, and pushes her to solve problems by herself, even if she’s scared that she’ll do it wrong. 

Plus, he gives her a nice little kiss as a reward every time she solves a question right, so you best believe she’s not giving up until she gets every damn question in that textbook right! 

“Good job sunshine,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. 

They’re sitting thigh to thigh on her bed, y/n’s ipad in her lap and her textbook right in front of her criss-crossed legs. She’s in a cutsie little pajama set, matching white pj shorts and a tiny tank top with little roses printed all over it. Harry sits with his legs spread out in front of him, with one of his hands gently resting on her back as he leans over her shoulder and checks her work. She smiles cutely, the apples of her cheeks rounding out as Harry’s pink lips pucker against her cheek as a reward. Not only does she feel proud of herself for getting the math right, but she also feels her heart do a backflip every time Harry gives her a kiss. Who knew doing her math homework could be so fun! 

She flips her pencil around in her fingers, turning her head to the side so she can get a proper reward. Kisses on the cheek are good motivation for when she’s struggling and she needs a little something to keep her going through a hard problem… but she got this one right. Her eyes meet his bright green ones, which are glimmering softly. He’s already smiling at her, his thumb tracing soft little circles on her back, and he doesn’t deny her when she leans in for a soft, sweet, and innocent kiss on the lips. In fact, when she tries to pull away from her soft little peck, he follows her forward, refusing to disconnect their lips until he gets a few more kisses in. 

It makes her giggle against his lips, pushing on his shoulders. “I only have one more,” she says, not wanting to get distracted when she’s so close to being done.

The dimple in his cheek deepens, and he stares at her softly. His eyes are so intense, as if he’s looking straight into her heart, as if he’s trying to see into the depth of her soul so he can really understand her. They flicker back and forth between hers, filled with just pure adoration. “If you get this last one right, I have a surprise for you,” he whispers mischievously.

Y/n’s eyes widen, a flash of excitement flickering over her irises. “What?” she asks eagerly, her hands landing on his thigh.

His lips twist in an impish smile, and he nods towards her homework. “Do it and you’ll see.”

She gets it right in one try, zero questions asked. It seems like kisses and little surprises are really all it takes to teach y/n math. She’s looking back at him with giddy eyes, basking as he gives her one last kiss for doing her homework correctly. “Go look in my bag,” he mumbles against her lips, one of his hands coming up to tuck her hair behind her ear. She pulls away from him, giving him a suspicious look with squinted eyes and pursed lips, but he just smiles and nods his chin towards his bag.

She gets up and cautiously approaches, peeking back at him nervously. All he does is smile, leaning back onto her pillows and putting his hands behind his back. She unzips his bag, and inside of it… 

“Oh,” y/n’s eyes round out as soon as she sees it. “Harry,” she whimpers, turning around to face him with a pout. Inside of his bag is the cutest pink stuffed elephant, with a little elephant nose that makes y/n want to cry. The elephant has animated eyes and big floppy ears, and it’s soft and fuzzy and just makes her heart melt because it’s so her and it’s so Girl and her grumpy boyfriend just knows her so well!!! She picks up the elephant and runs over to her bed with it and she gets extra excited when she sees how perfectly her new friend fits in with the rest of her pink stuffies and pillows. She climbs straight on top of Harry, putting the elephant next to her worn out stuffed bunny, and throws her arms around his shoulders. 

“Thank you, I love it, it’s so cute,” she babbles, burying her face in his neck. She’s almost getting emotional because there’s absolutely no occasion for him to be getting her gifts, her voice getting a little high pitched and wobbly. Harry smiles like it’s no big deal, his hand petting her hair softly as he chuckles softly. “What’s it for?” she asks, pulling away and looking at him with big round eyes.

He shrugs. “Saw it when I was out last night. Thought you would like it.” 

She stares at him with that endearing little pout, not knowing what to do except to lean in and kiss him. She puts her hands on his face, her fingers cupping his and his smiling cheeks pressed against her palms, and pulls him forward so she can press her lips against his. 

His lips struggle to kiss her back with how big he’s smiling, so in awe of her and how cute she is, but he manages to rest a hand on her hip and pucker his lips against hers. Her hands slide down to hold onto his shoulders, and her fingers twist in his shirt as their lips fold over each other. She loves kissing him, she really does. Whenever she flutters her eyes shut and presses her lips against his, all her worries melt away. Her shoulders relax and her mind goes blank. Harry brings up a hand to cup her jaw, and his thumb traces over her cheekbone softly, just feeling her delicate skin. 

They haven’t gone any further than these innocent kisses so far, except for that first time in his room, when he’d turned what should have been her romantic first kiss into an impromptu makeout sesh. He felt horrible when he found out that he’d tried to casually hook up with her when she hadn’t even had her first kiss! And absolutely sick to his stomach when he realized he’d been her first kiss, and that he had fucked it all up! 

A sweet little sunshine girl like her deserved to have the first kiss of her dreams, he mourned. At a moonlit picnic or in a garden of roses. And he’d given her the worst first kiss. He literally made her cry. 

Since then, there have been plenty of better, sweeter, more romantic kisses, to make up for that teensy little blip of a first kiss – kisses on her front doorstep after the most magical first date, kisses at the park underneath the cherry blossom trees, goodnight kisses in her bed before he tucks her in and heads home for the night. But nothing more than that.

Tonight though… he’s tempted to try a little something more. 

He kisses her lips one final time before pulling away with a soft click, his hand still gently cupping her jaw. His eyes slowly open, and he finds his sunshine already looking right back at him, her eyes wide and moony. Her lips are parted, so soft and delicate and kissable, and she blinks innocently. She’s so cute, so reactive and eager. She’s staring at him like he just gave her the world with that little kiss. 

His fingers trace down from her cheek to her lips, and then to her jawline. With the softest nudge he tilts her head to the side, then brushes her hair off to the side to expose her neck. When his lips skim the sensitive skin right above her pulse point, her breath catches in her throat. Her grip on his shirt tightens, and her thighs tense from where she’s sitting atop him, straddling his hips. 

His lips press against her neck so softly, the most delicate kiss he’s ever pressed against her skin. His eyes flutter shut and he just lingers there, inhaling deeply. She smells like vanilla and sugar cookies. She makes his heart pound and his head spin. His hand on her hip holds on tighter, his fingers dimpling her soft skin as he starts to press more kisses up her neck and around her jawline. 

Y/n’s eyes flutter shut and she tries to regulate her breathing, but her breaths are short and shaky and she can’t think straight. Harry’s breathing sends shivers down her spine, tickling her ear every time he exhales. His cotton candy lips tickle her throat and press down in hot, slow, gentle kisses. She swallows thickly and tries to hold down all the noises that want to escape her, but somehow a breathy moan leaves her lips. She feels herself grow hot and she’s not sure if it’s embarrassment at how weak she sounds, or if she’s just getting all hot from how Harry’s tongue just darted out to lightly tease her neck. 

Harry smiles to himself lightly, deciding to test the waters and suck a little bit at her neck. He forgets, sometimes, just how innocent and inexperienced his angel of a girlfriend is. She gets worked up easily and is so responsive to his touch. Even the lightest of kisses against her throat have her whimpering and floating in another world. He loves it. He can sense how antsy she’s getting now, how she’s shuffling around on his lap and fisting at his shirt. She hopes he can’t tell how sweaty her palms have gotten, and she’d actually die if she knew that he could feel her clenching around nothing through her tiny sleep shorts.

He doesn’t spend too much time on her neck, not wanting to leave any marks without her permission, instead sliding his fingers into her hair and tilting her head down again so it’s no longer thrown back. She lets him maneuver her easily, opening her eyes, her chest rising and falling heavily. Her eyebrows pinch together as she briefly looks down at his lips, longingly. She tries to get ahold of herself, but just a few seconds of him loving on her neck have sent her into a spiral. She’s so sensitive, so reactive – she jumps when his hand migrates to her thigh, goosebumps rising as he rubs up and down her bare leg. 

Harry’s eyes are warm and fond as he just stares at her– her pretty eyes and her delicate eyelashes, her lips, her cheeks, her smile. He tries not to linger too much on how cute she looks in her pajamas, how the low neckline accentuates her neck and her collarbones or how the thin material fails to conceal her peaked nipples. If he thinks about it too hard, he’ll get hard. And he doesn’t want that yet, doesn’t want to overwhelm his sweet, pure, innocent sunshine with his horny thoughts. 

He kisses her again as a distraction, slotting their lips together, and it’s sweet and simple and calming. Kissing her is comforting, her lips a safe haven. She could be an angel, for all he knows, with a halo and wings and everything.

“Sunshine,” he murmurs between kisses, “do something for me?”

“Hm?” she hums, hazy and half-paying attention. She stutters a bit when Harry’s tongue flicks at her bottom lip, and then at the seam of her lips. He gives a reassuring kiss.

“Open up f’me a bit.” His hand cups her jaw and he soothingly pets her face, as if coaxing her to part her lips. “Wanna– wanna taste you.”

She can’t help but pause, pulling back from the kiss for just a second to process what he’s said, but she’s nodding yes before any insecurity can fill her mind. “Okay,” she says softly, swallowing nervously. “Um–” she tries to ask this without embarrassing herself, “What do I do with my tongue?”

He continues pressing kisses to the corner of her mouth, “Jus’– um – lick against mine, sunshine.” He pulls away for just a second, eyes half-hooded and not at all fazed about having to explain this to her. “Dunno how to really explain it. You’ll get the hang of it, though.” 

She nods once more, insecurely, and flutters her eyes shut as Harry leans back in to continue kissing her. His fingers scratch deliciously against her scalp as he licks against her lips again – this time, she opens. His tongue dips in slowly, like soft honey, warm and wet. It’s unfamiliar, sure, but it doesn’t bother her. She tries to mimic the way his jaw falls slack, and how his tongue dips forward and back softly, opening up for him more and more as he continues to gently kiss her. He licks into her again, brushing his tongue against hers and she finds herself not even thinking as she brushes back. Her eyebrows pinch together and her nails start to dig into his back as she unconsciously leans closer to him. 

Their lips move against each other slowly, a sultry dance that’s all brand new to y/n… but god is it hot to have his tongue in her mouth. He’s warm and wet and playful, using his tongue to tease her lower lip while they kiss, flicking against her tongue flirtatiously. A whimper crawls up her throat, needy and desperate for more. He’s showing her things that she’s never experienced before, and all the pent up sexual desire she’s had is bubbling up in her tummy, begging to be released. 

She’s started to move her hips against him in soft rolls, grinding herself down as subtly as she can, and Harry’s hands on her hip seems to be encouraging her, gripping her tightly and pulling her closer and closer. Her arms unravel from around his shoulders and sneak their way down to the hem of his shirt, fingers finding the firm, warm skin of his abdomen. Her hands skim upwards to feel the lines of muscle that line his tummy, and she can’t believe that this green eyed adonis is literally her boyfriend. She lightly tugs on the shirt signaling that she wants it off, and starts whining while her hips move against his and Harry lets out a deep, low groan. 

He gently grabs her hands that are toying with the edge of his shirt and guides them back around his neck. “Not yet, baby,” he mumbles, giving a couple of soft, more tame pecks while his hand slows down her hips. He gives her one firm kiss to her lips to leave her breathless, then traces some more down her neck while she pants up towards the ceiling. Her throat bobs as she swallows thickly, and for the first time, her eyes are filled with lust, arousal, and need. Harry looks just as bad as her, his eyes dark, pupils blown out, lips pink and swollen. 

“Need t’take it slow,” he rasps, sounding more like he’s trying to convince himself rather than y/n. 

She takes a deep breath, and nods her head, understanding. He’s doing this for her, saving her firsts so that they can be comfortable and memorable and special special… but god, sometimes she wishes he would just rip her clothes off and stuff his cock inside of her the way Rhysand does in the book she’s reading right now. Virginity is overrated anyway, who cares how she loses it! (she does)

But she agrees nonetheless, rolling off of him with a heavy sigh and wiping her lips with the back of her hand. She feels sticky in between her thighs and her heart has not beat at a normal pace for the past ten minutes of kissing Harry. But, whatever. She picks up her new stuffed elephant, petting its floppy ears softly, and thankfully doesn’t notice the way Harry has to subtly adjust his plumped up cocked. 

She just flops down next to him, elephant in hand, kicking her feet in the air behind her, and asks, “What do you think we should name her?”

+++

It’s become a sort of routine for Harry and y/n to hang out after class on Friday nights. 

Monday and Wednesday nights, y/n is usually at the library studying, and on Tuesday/Thursdays, Harry has a math lecture from 6-7:20. Of course, Harry will oftentimes sit at the library with her, maybe do some homework (or usually take a nap) while she reads her biology textbook and takes color coded notes. And on the nights that Harry has his late night lectures, she’ll stay on campus a little later so that they could get dinner together before class. 

But Friday nights are when they really get to see each other. Sunshine is usually too burnt-out by the end of the week to even think about studying, and Harry is more than content to sit at his apartment and play video games while she reads a book in his bed.

It’s their favorite way to hang out after a long week. No loud parties, no stinky rooms, no distractions. Just them, together. 

Blake’s gone back to visit his hometown for the weekend, so Harry and y/n have his apartment all to themselves. That means that instead of hiding out in his room like usual, they’ve migrated out to his living room. Harry’s playing some video game on the TV, filled with blood and war and gory stuff, but he’s turned down the volume so that the gross sounds don’t bother sunshine while she’s reading. She’s got a big hardcover book in her hands (Happy Place by Emily Henry), a book that she’d gotten when they went to Barnes and Noble together last Friday. She’s only just had the chance to start it, though, since she had a big bio midterm earlier today. 

Harry sits shirtless on the couch, his eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched in a serious way that looks insanely hot from where y/n is sitting. Her back is resting against the other arm of the couch, facing Harry with her feet up and crossed at the ankle, her pink fuzzy socks almost brushing against his elbows. He’s shirtless, only wearing a pair of gray sweats (!!!), and his arms just look so… big and yummy. She can see the small freckles and bumps on his tanned back as he hunches over his controller, and can’t tear her eyes away from the shadows of muscles along his back and shoulders. And his heart shaped lips… so pink and plump and kissable…

An amused smirk gradually spreads on Harry’s face, signature dimple denting his cheek as he feels y/n’s hungry eyes feasting on him from the other end of the couch. From the corner of his vision, he can see the way she’s chewing on the inside of her cheek, how her eyes are captivated by his bare torso with such fascination. 

He doesn’t think she even realizes how long she’s been staring at him.

He gives her a quick glance, eyes glimmering teasingly, and she realizes that she’s been embarrassingly caught. Quickly, she averts her eyes back down to her book, pretending like nothing happened.

Harry chuckles. “Whatcha starin’ at, sunshine?”

“Nothing,” she hums casually, despite her burning hot cheeks.

He pauses his game, putting the controller down onto the little coffee table next to him, and turns towards her. She refuses to meet his gaze this time, continuing to stare down at the page even though she’s processing about 0% of the words that she reads. No, her brain is exceedingly preoccupied with how her very attractive and very shirtless boyfriend is staring at her right now, with that teasing look in his eye. And that stupid, smug smirk. He’s like a snake about to attack a tiny little garden bunny. 

“Baby…” he goads, but she continues to pretend-read her book. Only when he lightly tickles her sock-covered foot does she pay any attention to him, yelping out and jolting her feet away. He snorts out a laugh as she folds both her feet underneath herself, clumsily protecting herself from Harry’s devilish fingers. It wouldn’t be hard for him to tackle her right now, hold her down on the couch while his fingers dig into her ribs and under her armpits until she's cry-laughing. He’s done it plenty of times before, and has found it to be the most effective way to get her attention… so she puts the book down obediently and looks up at him with a shy smile.

“Hi,” she says innocently, pretending like she hadn’t been ogling him for five minutes straight while he’d been playing his game. She just sits there with her hands in her lap, as if she’s an angel. 

He smiles knowingly. Her longing stares and hungry eyes are her silent indication that she wants a kiss. The type of kiss where he pulls her into his lap, licks into her mouth, and palms at her ass. A real, proper make out. 

She probably doesn’t know that she’s so obvious about it, he thinks – staring at his lips with puppy dog eyes and drooling over his bare chest. She’s trying to play it casual, but he can see the needy glimmer in her eyes. It seems like making out with her that first time in her bedroom opened the floodgates, unleashing something in y/n that had been so innocently contained by her angelic, virginal facade. Ever since then, she’s been giving him these eyes, begging for more. 

He shakes his head to himself, still smirking, before leaning forward to kiss her. This is exactly what she wants, and Harry knows it. Her longing stares and hungry eyes were just her silent way of asking for a kiss, since she’s a little too shy to ask for it straight up.

Their lips fold over each other, a slow kiss, gentle and meant only to subdue y/n. The only sound in the room is the soft smacking of their lips against each other, the little click that comes every time his lips slide off hers and then reattach milliseconds later. He leads the kiss (he always does), so every time he tilts her head, sunshine tilts the other way. When he slides his fingers into her hair, she stretches her neck upwards. When his teeth nip at her bottom lip teasingly, she whines with furrowed brows, pressing herself against his lips harder. And when he licks at the seam of her lips, she opens up for him, just like he taught her. 

He can feel his cock stirring, and forces himself to pull away. It’s a kiss deep enough to satisfy most of sunshine’s needs – to quiet her racing mind and get her focused on just him and nothing else – but it’s also nothing too intense to overwhelm her. And, it’s tame enough for Harry to be able to show some restraint. 

He has to take a second, hovering in front of her with his eyes still closed. His hand is still cupping her jaw, just reveling in the taste of her chapstick that lingers on his lips… he takes a deep, calming breath. Breathe in, hold for seven seconds, then out. He’s strong. 

But… when he opens his eyes, she’s looking up at him with disappointed and longing irises, her bottom lip jutting out sadly. She wants more, her eyes clearly say, and she’s needy for him, her pouted lips tease.

Okay maybe he’s not that strong. 

He’s barely kissed her, and yet her pupils are blown out with desire, breath already catching in her throat. He wonders how disheveled she’d look if he really kissed her. How she’d whimper out little noises if he licked into her mouth, or how her chest would rise and fall while she tries to catch her breath. She’d probably grip onto his shirt, wrap her arms around his neck and twist her fingers into his hair, tugging on it desperately.  And he’d grip her hips, grind her down onto his cock, bite on her bottom lip and suck on her tongue… god, his dick twitches at the thought of it. 

If he were strong, he’d shut his eyes and get a hold of himself – but he’s not. Instead he stares at her pretty lips, slicked and swollen just from that little bit of kissing. His thumb softly brushes against the apple of her cheek, while her eyes only grow wider and more pleading. If he likes her lips so much, then why doesn’t he just get back to kissing her! 

His thumb comes down to tug on her pouty lip so he can watch it bounce back into place. His eyes darken, his nose flares, and his eyebrows furrow, and then he hears her whimper, literally whimper because of how pent up and needy she’s feeling. His resolve crumbles.

If she wants more, he’ll give her more.

He kisses her again, still soft and gentle, but somehow it’s hotter. Needier. Their lips fold over each other over and over again, an eager, spit-slicked exchange. The only sound in the room is the soft smacking of their lips against each other, the little click that comes every time his lips slide off hers and then reattach milliseconds later. 

Y/n is unconsciously lifting herself up to be closer to him, nearly sitting on her knees now, pressing herself upwards and upwards. At this point he should just pull her on top of her, he thinks, so he puts a hand on her hip and coaxes her onto his lap. 

She’s clumsy as she climbs onto him, too concentrated on not messing up their kiss to successfully untangle her own legs (she’s still new to all this), but Harry doesn’t mind it. It’s endearing, how her foot gets stuck underneath her butt as she presses herself closer to him, or how her knee knocks against his hip as she tries to straddle him. His hands gently guide her thighs as she maneuvers herself onto his lap, hands encasing her ribs and steadying her uncoordinated movements.

His thighs spread open in a natural manspread, and he slouches down enough on the couch so that y/n’s a head above him. She has to lean down to keep their lips connected, her hair falling into his face, and her hands tentatively find their way to his shoulders so that she can keep her balance and not fall on top of him. Harry’s fingers gently brush the hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear, then linger on her face, tracing over her cheekbone and cupping her jaw. He loves holding her face when he kisses her, especially because she unconsciously leans into his touch, sighing happily the way a kitten being pet would purr. 

She never knew the simple act of kissing could be this hot… but there’s something about having his warm mouth against hers, feeling the slick of his spit as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth… even just feeling his heavy breaths against the side of her cheek. Soft sighs and little moans escape her in a way she can’t control, and her brows pinch together in the cutest, most desperate way when his hands migrate over her bum and start palming her.

She just wants to kiss him over and over and over again! No breaks, not even to breathe. She wants to feel his lips against hers until she passes out.

She reciprocates his every move eagerly, like a little puppy learning how to do tricks. She’ll move her head whichever way his nose nudges her, slot her lips against his at whatever pace he decides on. When he breathes, she breathes, and when he slides his fingers into her hair, she stretches her neck upwards. He’s constantly tilting his head to the left and then to the right, switching between suckling on her top and bottom lip, alternating between open mouth and closed mouth kisses – just teaching her as he kisses her. 

Harry pulls away softly, pressing his forehead to hers and petting the apple of her cheek with his thumb, giving her a break to catch her breath. “Alright?” he asks a bit breathlessly. She nods, eager but apprehensive. Harry calms her with a simple peck, soft and familiar. “Y’doing so good, sunshine,” he murmurs reassuringly. 

He’s kissing her again three seconds later, slower and more deliberately this time. She parts her lips once more, more sure of herself this time, and when his tongue flicks against her bottom lip softly she experimentally licks back. It immediately illicits a deep groan from Harry. He slides his tongue past her lips, tasting her, licking into her. His teeth nip at her bottom lip teasingly, and she whines with furrowed brows, pressing herself against his lips harder. He’s obsessed with her. Her lips are so soft, her body so pliant, he could kiss her for hours on end. 

She’s growing more and more desperate as their kiss grows hotter and hotter. Her hands on his shoulders start to wander, grazing over his tattooed chest, and she shuffles around on his lap, trying to wriggle closer to him. She’s getting that tingly feeling in her center that she only gets when she’s reading one of those books, and unconsciously, she starts grinding her center down on his lap. 

Harry lets out a strained groan, his hands immediately shooting down to hold her hips still. “Fuck,” he rasps, throwing his head back.

“Hm?” Y/n is out of it, chasing after his lips as he pulls away, completely unaware of Harry’s discomfort. She pouts at how his fingers are digging into her hips, preventing her from wriggling any closer to him when it’d felt so good! “What’s wrong?”

She threads her fingers through his hair, her nails scratching against his scalp, and tries to pull him back for a kiss – but he turns his head to the side, refusing. The abruptness leaves y/n disgruntled and confused. She’s panting, a bit breathless from how his tongue had been licking in her mouth, the electricity that had been flowing through her veins slowly fizzling away. Her lips are swollen, nearly bruised, and furrows her brows at the abrupt end to this >very nice kiss. 

"Need–" he licks his lips, "need t'take a second."

"Why?" she whines, staring down at his mouth. 

"M'bout to cum in my pants, sunshine. Gimme a bit." 

Her eyes widen. She looks down and sure enough… there’s the outline of his hard cock, a prominent bulge in his sweatpants. She’s never actually seen one in person and– gosh the size of it makes her tremble a little bit. Is that normal or is he just really big? He looks thick, and the tip of his cock is a significant length down his thigh. Why is her mouth watering? She swallows thickly and looks back up at him, like a deer caught in headlights.

She tries to give him some space, moving her hips back so that she’s not brushing against his erection… but even that small movement is painful for Harry, making him throw his head back with a loud groan. “I need to go to the bathroom,” Harry pants, hands on her hips, already lifting her off his lap. 

“What– oh!” she squeals as she’s suddenly thrown onto the couch.

She blinks. The bathroom door shuts. 

She’s never been more aroused in her life. 

+++

Harry has his hand down his sweatpants before he can even lock the door, fishing out his cock and palming himself with a deep groan. His pants slide down to midthigh as he spreads his own precum over his shaft, his fingers wrapped around himself in a tight fist. He pumps quickly, making sure to rub a thumb over his tip every once in a while, as that's one of the easiest ways to make himself cum. He wants this to be quick – he’s not in the bathroom jerking off because he wants an insane orgasm… he just wants his cock to stop hurting while he’s kissing his girlfriend! 

He throws his head back against the wall and thrusts his hips into his own hand, conjuring up all the images in his head – y/n’s pretty lips, slicked and swollen with his spit. Her disheveled hair, mussed up from his fingers. Her wide, moony eyes, her dreamy sighs and whimpers. Her cute bum in her tiny shorts, that had fit so nicely in the palm of his hand, that had jiggled so prettily when he lifted her onto his lap. His toes curl as he lets his thoughts get more explicit – how pretty would she look if she were the one jerking him off right now? If she was down on her knees with her tiny hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him and looking at his prick with those bambi eyes. What if she took him into her mouth? Laved her tongue around his tip the way his thumb is doing now? His biceps bulge as he jerks himself off, harder and faster, more cum leaking from his tip and making the glide smoother. If only he could fill up her mouth, cover her pretty lips with his cum…

His entire body shivers, long white streaks bursting from his cock and all over his fist. He bites his lip, refusing to let any sound escape the bathroom for y/n to hear. She’s not ready for… this. 

He looks at himself in the mirror– his cheeks are flushed, his hair is a mess, and his cock looks worn out. He washes his hands in the sink with soap, shamefully washing away the mess he made on his own hand, then splashes his face with water. His prick is still sensitive and he winces as he tucks himself back into his sweatpants. It’s barely been five minutes since he first entered the bathroom, meaning that he lasted a whopping… three minutes. 

She says nothing when he comes back, already back to reading her book. He lets out a sigh of relief. 

He stays firmly on his side of the couch for the rest of the night. 

+++

“Harry,” y/n moans.

Her hair is splayed out on Harry’s pillow underneath her head, Harry hovering right above her. He has one hand pressed on the bed to keep him above her, and the other on her hip, roaming up and down her body. One minute he’ll be cradling her ribcage delicately, and the next he’ll be gripping her thigh and hoisting it up and around his waist so that he can fit his hips in between hers.

Her hands are similarly roaming up and down his chest and his back, holding onto his shoulders and grabbing his biceps as he kisses her. Her back arches as his hand squeezes her bum, and a broken whimper filters between their lips. His tongue slips into her mouth when she whines, gliding against hers smoothly. And when he pulls off from the kiss, he lightly bites at her lower lip, tugging on it playfully before letting it bounce back into place. 

He buries his face in her neck, kissing down to her shoulder and over her collarbones, sucking lightly and then smoothing his tongue over the abused spots soothingly. His teeth nip and graze the thin skin of her throat, and his chest rumbles when she throws her head back to grant him more access. 

This is torture for him. 

It had started off so innocently, just the two of them watching Netflix together. His head was laying on her chest while they watched their movie, her fingers brushing through his hair (he loves it when she plays with his hair). But then – god, he’d been so stupid!!! He looked up at her, and saw her pretty face and her pretty eyes and her pretty lips… and he just wanted to kiss her so bad. One kiss wouldn’t hurt, he told himself!!!

He lifted his head from where his ear had been pressed against her breast, and leaned up to just press one sweet, innocent kiss to her lips. But then, one kiss turned into two, and two turned into three. He hated how she had to strain her neck and lean down to reach his lips, so he twisted around to make it easier for her. But then his neck started to hurt, so he pushed himself up so he was hovering above her. And now his dick is hard, and he’s grinding it down into her most intimate area.

He’s mentally bashing himself while kissing her – he should’ve had more self-control, he should pull away and go to the bathroom to sort himself…  but also he can’t stop kissing her. 

Y/n has zero complaints either, practically egging him on, begging him to go further. She threaded her fingers through his hair while they kissed, and wrapped her arms around him so that he wouldn’t pull away. She whimpered and whined prettily, fluttered her eyes when he kissed down her throat, arched her back into him and lifted her hips so that she could press herself into the area where he was obviously very hard.

He’s literally just a guy. How is he supposed to pull away when his soft and sweet girlfriend is pressing herself against her cock and moaning against his lips?

“Fuck,” his voice is strained and there’s a vein bulging in his neck as he takes a second to breathe. Y/n has learned well, and starts trailing kisses along his jaw while he catches his breath. She tries her hand at sucking marks on his neck, but finds herself too impatient to focus all her energy on one spot when she just wants to kiss all over his neck and cheeks! Her lips skim the corner of his mouth, pressing soft, teasing kisses. 

He breathes heavily, shutting his eyes and trying really, really hard to not cum in his pants.

Y/n makes it practically impossible though, whining “kiss me,” as her nails scratch deliciously at his scalp. Fire rushes through his veins at the sound of her voice and he nearly collapses on top of her.

“Baby…” he says, half warning and half pleading. She’s literal heaven on Earth. Her lips are like magnets, and when she skims her lips over his he can’t help but pucker to connect them in a kiss. She bites down on his lip, teasing him, and licks into his mouth, desperately wanting to feel his tongue gliding against hers again. 

She’s a riled up little thing, concupiscent and needy, eager to kiss for hours at a time. He’s had to invest in a jumbo sized vaseline to keep his lips hydrated with how overworked his lips are. And she’s naughty under her good girl, studious, bookworm persona. She tugs on his hair and leaves scratches on his back when they kiss, wraps her legs around him and lifts her hips to grind her softest areas against his hardness. She moans and whimpers and tells him how good he feels, presses her breasts up to his chest… god he can only imagine how she’ll act when he actually gets to touch her. 

His hand slides up her side, over her ribs and to her breast, palming it over her t-shirt. She loves being groped, apparently, always leaning into his touch whenever his hands pinch her tits teasingly or cup her ass. It makes her even needier for him, makes her more desperate to get rid of the clothes and jump straight in. Neither of them know how they’ve managed to go this long with only make outs and groping, when they’re just so obsessed with touching and feeling the other. It’s mostly only Harry’s romantic heart that has managed to keep them strong, who is absolutely adamant on giving y/n sweet and cherishable firsts. These hot makeouts are just a loophole around his rules.

Harry loses himself in her, lets her fill up all his senses. She’s all he can hear, all he can smell, all he can taste, and all he can touch. His mind is void of anything except for getting closer to sunshine, kissing her more and touching her more. Her tits are soft and warm, her bum is round and biteable, and her cute little tummy jumps whenever his fingers skim over it. He unconsciously grinds his hips into her center, the tip of his cock rubbing against her clit, from what he can feel through her thin shorts. His jaw goes slack every time he grinds himself against her, the pressure in his pants growing tighter and tighter– until he groans loudly above her, hiding his face in her chest as his entire body shudders and his arms grow weak. 

Y/n freezes, knowing that this particular grind of his hips was different from the rest. Instead of rolling his hips forward and backward, the way he’d been doing before, he presses his hips firmly against her and ruts forward in short jolts, hips twitching and abdomen clenching. A raspy groan leaves him, his cheeks red as cherries and his eyes hooded with pleasure. Y/n feels herself gushing at the thought of what just happened, and replays it in her head over and over and over again. Her voice cracks around a moan as he gives one final thrust against her, his hand squeezing around her tit firmly and erotically brushing against her nipple.

Their eyes meet, hers wide and blown out with a mix of innocent shock and filthy thoughts, while his are clear as the morning sky after a night of cleansing rain. He radiates post-orgasmic bliss.  

His cheeks are red like cherries and his eyes are lust-filled and hazy, hooded with pleasure. He radiates post-orgasmic bliss.

“Well, shit,” he chuckles at himself. He’s kind of embarrassed that he literally came in his pants by making out with his girlfriend, but for the most part he is just relieved that his balls aren’t bursting anymore. “Sorry, sunshine. I couldn’t– um, I couldn’t really control it.” He pushes himself up, feeling his own cum slowly against his thigh. “Are you okay?”

She nods, almost as if she’s in a trance. “I… want to do that again,” she whispers bashfully.

“Y’want to make me cum in m’pants again?” he asks with a soft, confused laugh.

“I-I just want to watch you… cum, again,” she hesitates around the word, feeling dirty and shy, despite how true the statement is. “Next time… next time, can I help?” she asks hopefully.

HIs eyes roll to the back of his head and he leans back down for a kiss.

“Y’gonna kill me, sunshine.”

+++

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[stylescine]

I literally can’t stop thinking about riding Harry first thing in the morning. The sunlight is just barely passing through the window and his arms are wrapped tightly around you.

He’s awake and leaving small kisses all over your neck, one hand splayed across your stomach. It’s when you wake up too that you notice his arousal pressing against your back. Your legs are intertwined and you gently move your foot up and down his leg before you turn around to face him.

Harry’s curls are all over the place, but his gaze seems quite defined. Lust. Desire.

“Good morning, love.” His voice is raspy and still unused from last night’s sleep. Your lips finds his in a sloppy and short kiss. Harry’s hips press against yours, a firm reminder of what’s going through his mind. He always looks so beautiful in the first light of the morning and his bare chest is enticing you once again.

It doesn’t take long for you both to be naked, Harry sitting against the headboard and his cock filling you. Your hands caress his strong chest, fingers moving over the tattoos as you just look at each other for a long moment.

“I love you,” he whispers, hands finding your hips even in the dim light and he’s helping you move up and down on his cock. As always, it feels as if he was made for you, filling you to the brim and giving you the right amount of pleasure. Your legs press close to his hips as you support yourself on his chest, moving up and down with more speed now.

Harry’s head tips back against the headboard, revealing his beautiful neck to you. You’re quick to plant kisses along his jawline, only being interrupted by your own moans as Harry starts thrusting up into you as well. Every thrust brings you a little closer to orgasm, the tension in your abdomen building. His nimble fingers dig into the flesh of your hips and his pink lips part for a low moan as his muscles flex underneath your touch.

“M’close,” he announces briefly before his gaze is searching for yours. He loves to watch you come all over his cock and that’s the sight he wants for when he’s reaching his own high.

Just a few more thrusts and you’re both there, Harry’s head falling back against the headboard with a thump and his name echoing from your lips throughout the bedroom. His arms wrap tightly around you, pulling you flush against his chest before he plants soft kisses against the top of your head.

His cock is still twitching inside you and as you close your eyes against his chest, you let out a long breath.

“Good way to start the morning…” you mumble softly and Harry’s chest rumbles with his laugh.

~~

just a little thought i had in mind 🤭

masterlist

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #daydreams #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x you #harry styles fics #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles headcanons #love on tour

[cupid-styles]

call it fate, call it karma (olderry x alt!y/n)

in which harry's getting an unfortunate tattoo covered up at the shop y/n works at, they're 12 years apart, and they have big, fat crushes on each other. also, harry hates frappuccinos. 

word count: 10.1k

content warnings: age gap (12 years), harry's kind of an idiot at first, angst (all is solved in the end), smut (daddy kink, p in v penetration, fingering, dirty talk, choking, slight size kink, crying)

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

When Harry was 29, he made a mistake.

Well, maybe not a mistake. Perhaps… a series of poorly thought out decisions. 

It started out when he met May. They were seniors in college and for years, Harry swore it was love at first sight — and with the enthusiasm and dopey, loved up grin he had when he told the story of how they met, May believed him for a long time. It always started the same: He didn’t want to go out that night but his friends begged him, telling him it was his last year in college to party before they went into the real world at full force. Finally, they wore him down enough to the point where Harry agreed, except he felt no desire to drink or smoke once they got to whoever’s house was throwing the get-together. He sat on the couch all night, nursing a warm beer from a plastic red solo cup, waiting for his buddies to decide when they’d had enough so Harry could ensure they got home safe — and then, May Wilkins walked in.

Harry always claimed that it seemed like the weed and cigarette smoke parted the second she entered the room, though he promised to revise the story when they told their future children. As soon as he laid eyes on the clean-cut brunette girl, he insisted that May would be his.

And, by the end of the night, May was his.

In fact, May continued to be his until he was 32 years old. 

For the first few years, it was heaven. People doubted them — they said it was stupid to get into such a serious relationship when graduation was looming, just a few months away, but it only fueled them further. After they received their degrees, they moved in together. The following year, Harry proposed. By 25, they were married.

Within a year of marriage, the fighting started. 

It seemed that they had a problem with everything the other did — if Harry stayed late at work, May was angry and accusing him of cheating on her. If May went out for a girls night with some friends, Harry was calling her at 1 a.m., demanding to know where she was. They didn’t trust one another, and the insecurities ate at them; first slowly, and then all-consumingly. Eventually, May couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as Harry. He started getting tattoos and she hated every single one. Every time he came home with a new one, she rolled her eyes and asked why he couldn’t put that money towards their savings, so they could buy a house in the suburbs like they’d planned to five years prior. 

Harry wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet, though. After that, they tried couples counseling. When that ended in a screaming match, they decided to try sleeping in separate beds to put some space between one another. That worked for about three days before May got wine drunk one evening and crawled into his new bed that he purchased for the guest room. By the end of the week, they were back to sharing a mattress again.

And, believe it or not, it’s only then that he made his big mistake. 

He thought maybe May despised his tattoos so much because he had so many for other people — his sister, his mum, his godchildren. Maybe if he got her name inked on his skin, she would see how much he really did love her, despite all the arguing and fighting. 

Except, when he walked through the door to show her that evening, she was so angry that she stayed at her friend’s house that night. 

A week later, May filed for a divorce. 

He was exhausted. He wasn’t sure how they got there, but he knew it was time. There was nothing they could do to save their marriage.

The divorce was settled relatively quickly. Neither of them had much more fight left in them. They split all their assets down the middle and since they didn’t own a house together, Harry offered to move out of their shared apartment and let May live there until the lease was up. She didn’t, though. She broke their lease four months early with a mumbled explanation of not wanting to live there anymore. 

When it was officially over, Harry’s friends took him out to celebrate. An evening of debauchery filled with enough alcohol and drugs to keep Harry satiated for the next decade. 

But that’s when he realized that the hard part was just beginning. 

Divorced life in your early 30s wasn’t easy. He threw himself into his job, but he felt lonely and empty without May by his side. It wasn’t even because he loved her anymore — he’d just spent so many formative years with her that he didn’t know who he was without her. 

For five years, Harry focused on himself. He worked hard, he bought a house, he spent time with his family. He made himself the best son, brother, friend, uncle, and godfather he could be. And at 37, he was mildly content with that — he owned a beautiful home and was at the top of his company. Dating was so far down on his list of priorities that he didn’t even know how people met anymore. His friends encouraged him to join “the apps”, offering to help create a profile for him, but the only girls he dated had been from his years in school. He could admit that he was a little lonely, but the thought of starting over with someone completely new was intimidating and scary. Plus, there was one very big reminder of his past still inked on his arm. 

So, that’s when he came up with his plan: He would cover up his tattoo of May’s name. He’d never gotten a coverup tattoo before but based on his research, they weren’t easy to do. It could take multiple sessions, which he was more than okay with — because, when her name was finally banished from his skin, he would officially throw himself back into the dating pool and try to find someone new.

A month later, he was walking into Jaded Tattoos for his first session. 

. . .

Tuesdays are Y/N’s least favorite days.

When she comes into work on Monday, she at least has some sort of energy. She typically feels semi-refreshed from the weekend and always makes sure to stop for an iced latte on her way into the shop. Plus, Mondays are one of the calmer days at Jaded Tattoos — after all, there weren’t a ton of people coming in to get tattooed on the first day of the workweek.

But Tuesdays are just… icky. Y/N works as the makeshift secretary at the shop, so she manages everyone’s schedules and handles client booking — it would all be terribly boring if she didn’t work at Jaded, but she can get a new tattoo or piercing anytime one of the artists has some down time. Plus, no one ever judges her for the existing art on her skin, which she can’t say about other jobs she’s had in the past.

However, on Tuesdays, for some reason, the shop is always bustling. Clients are always canceling or showing up late (or, worst of all, missing their appointments altogether without saying a word), which in turn makes the artists annoyed. Y/N understands that — it’s annoying and rude, but then the energy in the shop gets all wonky and everyone feels tense and stressed out. Even her mid-afternoon break, when she takes a walk around the block to get herself a coffee and a pastry, isn’t enough to pull her out of the weird mindset. 

She’s just settled into the last part of her day, using the iPad to look through the schedule when a fairly looking clean cut man walks through the door. At first, she assumes he’s lost, but only an idiot would come in without knowing it’s a tattoo shop. He has neatly groomed brunette hair and wears a navy blazer over a white tee-shirt, complete with matching trousers. It makes Y/N involuntarily quirk her eyebrows, a pesky wrinkle appearing between them as she accidentally stares at him. He offers a tight, awkward smile when he walks up to her desk, placing his elbows on the surface. 

“Hi. I have an appointment at 3 with Jan.”

Y/N tries her best not to let her jaw drop. She knows she should really be less judgemental, but based on the slight crows feet wrinkles that creep at the edges of his eyes, this guy has to be nearing his 40s. Was he having some kind of midlife crisis? She supposes it’s possible, but why wouldn’t he just opt for buying a new car or house or something? He looks rich enough. 

“Hello?” 

Y/N realizes that she hasn’t said a single thing since he approached and parts her lips, mumbling out an embarrassed apology as she scrolls on the iPad to look at Jan’s schedule. Sure enough, she’s blocked off from 3 to 4:45 p.m.

“Um, is this your first tattoo?” Y/N asks, cocking her head to the side. Her eyes quickly roam over his body, but most of his skin is covered. There’s a spiel she says with people who are tattoo virgins — making sure they’ve eaten and they’re hydrated and if they’re not, she gives them snacks and water. It was one of the policies she implemented when she started a few years back, and it makes her happy to know that she helps newbies feel more comfortable before getting jabbed with a needle for an hour.

“No,” he chuckles with a shake of his head, “No, sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. Jan’s helping me with a coverup.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, Jan is great with those.” she replies as she slides the iPad across to him. “I’m just gonna have you fill out this consent form and some other fun stuff. I’ll let her know you’re here, but my name is Y/N if you have any questions.”

He nods and flashes her a bright smile, and Y/N swears her heart skips a beat. She wonders what tattoo he’s getting covered up. She doesn’t often ask clients what they’re having done unless they decide to talk to her about it. It can be a rather personal experience for some — while she has some completely asinine, ridiculous tattoos herself, she also has a few with meaning, and she would certainly be taken back if someone randomly asked her about them.

Jan is busy getting some sketching done when Y/N gently knocks on her open door. She turns around in her wheely chair and smiles before asking her what’s up. 

“Your 3 p.m. is here,” she says, leaning against the doorframe, “He says you’re covering something up for him?”

“Yup, that’ll be Harry Styles.” Jan replies with an affirmative nod. “We chatted a decent amount through email. Took the guy like, a month before deciding to come in.”

Y/N raises an eyebrow. “What’s he getting done?”

Jan stands from her chair and stretches her back and arms out, revealing a sliver of her tattooed stomach. “Wants his ex-wife’s name covered up. You know how it goes. You can send him in whenever he’s ready, I just need to photocopy some stencils.”

Y/N nods and hopes Jan didn’t catch the way her eyes widened at the mention of an ex-wife. She supposes she shouldn’t be too surprised — she did figure he was on the older side, at least 10 years her age — but is still a bit shocked that someone who looks that wealthy and put together would tattoo his partner’s name on him. Y/N, despite having a plethora of permanent tattoos herself, didn’t believe in any of that. She felt like it was bad luck. Plus, she didn’t see herself ever loving anyone enough to do that. The thought itself made her shudder.

When she returns back to the front, Harry’s drumming his fingers along the surface of her desk and looking around the interior of the shop. He doesn’t look nervous, but she wonders if he is. She’d seen her fair share of grown men pass out or vomit from being under the needle.

“All done?” she asks, pointing to the tablet. He nods. “Cool. You ate before this right? Hydrated and everything?”

Again, Harry nods, but this time a crooked smirk appears on his face. “Yes. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

“Just making sure,” she murmurs, plugging the iPad back in the charger, “Okay, you can follow me to Jan’s workstation.”

“Sure. Just one question — is there a place I can put this?”

Before Y/N has a chance to ask him what he’s talking about, he sheds the blazer he’s wearing to reveal two heavily tattooed, very muscular arms. She has to forcibly prevent her jaw from falling to the floor as her eyes roam over the myriad of black ink that swirls over his tanned skin. There doesn’t seem to be much of a theme, but her tattoos lack coherence, too. She swallows like some kind of lovestruck cartoon character, and when she finally glances at Harry’s face, he has a stupid, cocky smirk on. 

She narrows her eyes. “There’s some jacket hooks by the door.”

“Perfect,” he grins cheerfully. He turns, showcasing a few more scattered designs on the backs of his arms, and places his jacket on one of the hooks. “Now you can stop judging me like I’m some old man going through a midlife crisis.”

This time, Y/N’s jaw really does drop.

“I’m not!” she immediately scrambles, even though they both know it’s a complete lie. “I just— I didn’t see any tattoos and I wanted to make sure you were prepared—”

“Sure, sure,” he cuts her off, pointing to some of the workstations in the back. “Jan’s is back there?”

“Yes, but I really wasn’t judging you, I have a million stupid tattoos myself—”

“Right, but because you’re half my age, it’s fine, right?” 

“That’s not what I thought at all—”

“Have a good rest of your day.”

Y/N’s left standing there, confusion and embarrassment seeping into her bones, as Harry walks over to Jan’s station.

. . .

Exactly one hour and 45 minutes later, Harry leaves the shop.

Y/N spent the entire time nervously straightening up, sweeping the floors and rearranging their supply closet, trying to decide on what she would say to him when he walked by. She wanted to apologize, especially because she hoped he didn’t say anything to Jan. A client had never complained about her — not once in her three years of working at Jaded, and it would ruin her to know that somebody had a poor experience because of her. 

Instead, she chickened out and watched him grab his jacket off the hook. Like every tattoo client leaving, he had a clear piece of film wrap stuck to the inside of his left arm. She wished she could see Jan’s work. 

A few minutes later, Jan is heading out, too. 

“Don’t stay too late tonight, Y/N. The needles and ink can get sorted tomorrow.” she says, nudging her chin the direction of the closet she’s currently busying herself with. Y/N hums and peeks her head out.

“How was the coverup?” she tries her best to make her voice seem nonchalant, as if she’s sincerely curious in how it went as opposed to finding out if he made any mean comments about the nosy girl in the front.

“Fine,” Jan shrugs as she pulls her car keys from her tote bag, “We didn’t get too far. He’ll be coming in for the next three or four weeks. It’ll take some time to cover that shit up. I’ll see you tomorrow though, yeah?”

Y/N nods robotically and forces out a “get home safe!”. 

Three to four weeks?

Harry Styles is going to be the death of her. She’s sure of it.

. . .

The following Tuesday, Y/N has a plan. 

When she arrives to work that day, she double checks the schedule to ensure she hasn’t been driving herself insane for a week over nothing (and maybe she has, considering her brain has been a hamster wheel of overthinking a man who uttered a few snarky sentences to her). Sure enough, Harry Styles is scheduled to come in for his second session of covering up his tattoo at 3 p.m. sharp.

Here’s what she decides to do: She’s going to dig her Doc Marten-clad heels into the (metaphorical) ground and politely but assertively tell this Harry Styles that it wasn’t very kind of him to assume she was judging him. After all, isn’t that more judgemental on his end? He had been acting like a classic, wealthy, powerful man, asserting his so-called power over a young woman who was simply trying to make his tattoo experience as seamless as possible. What a dick! 

It goes without saying that when he shows up at Jaded at 2:45 p.m., her eyes automatically narrow his form. She’s slightly hopped up on caffeine (she’ll admit, she’s been waiting for this moment all day). She doesn’t even allow herself to to assess his outfit today, which consists of another white tank top, a dark gray blazer, and a pair of matching trousers. It’s similar to what he arrived in last week — all business and ridiculous and stupid, she thinks, especially in comparison to her cutoff denim shorts, vintage band tee-shirt, and platform shoes. 

“Hi Harry,” she says, greeting him with a fake, rage-filled smile, “Do you have a moment to chat before your appointment?”

Harry raises his eyebrows, almost as if he’s surprised that she’s even speaking to him to begin with.

“Sure.”

Y/N nods and stands from the front desk, motioning for him to head outside. He does and she follows him, immediately crossing her arms over his chest the second they’re no longer within earshot distance of the shop.

Instantly, a stormy look comes over her face and she flares her nostrils. “Last week when you accused me of judging you for going through a midlife crisis? Yeah, that wasn’t cool. You can’t just do that to people. I get it, you’re a privileged guy who’s used to getting whatever you want in life, but I’m here to put my foot down and tell you that it wasn’t nice. It actually really hurt my feelings! And, you know what, why does it even matter what—”

“You’re right.”

Y/N’s head snaps up. 

“What?”

Harry shrugs and stuffs his hands in his pants pockets. “You’re completely right. The second I left, I felt awful. I wanted to say something when I was leaving, but I felt it was better to give you your distance.” 

Confused, she fumbles over her words, forgetting where she was in her speech. She clears her throat and nods curtly. 

“Yeah. You should feel awful.”

A small smile appears on his lips. “I do. I even brought you a cookie from my favorite bakery by my office building.”

“Really?” she asks, raising her eyebrows. 

Harry nods and digs into the work bag on his shoulder. Sure enough, he produces a cookie that’s the size of Y/N’s face. She recognizes the sticker on the wrapping as a bakery that’s downtown — she’ll order pastries and snacks from there for the staff sometimes, but it’s usually too expensive and far away for her to treat them. She accepts it from him, but not before she peers up at him with narrowed eyes.

“What kind is it?” she questions, as if it’s a test.

“Raspberry white chocolate,” he answers. “I didn’t know what you like, obviously, so I went with my favorite. I hope that’s okay.”

She won’t tell him that that’s also her favorite, but she offers him a short nod of approval. She swallows tightly as she looks back up at the taller man. “Thank you for the apology cookie. Do you wanna share it with me?”

The edges of his lips curl up into a grin. “Sure. I have some time to spare before my session.”

Y/N digs into the bag and retrieves the cookie, breaking it in half. She hands a piece to Harry, who murmurs out a soft thank you. Together, they stand outside the shop in silence, each nibbling on their half of the cookie. After a few moments of quiet, Y/N sneaks a glance at his tattoo. Jan was right — they haven’t gotten very far in covering it up since she can still clearly read the three letters that spell out MAY.

Harry must have followed her gaze because he glimpses down at her. “Do you guys get a lot of people covering up dumb tattoos?”

She does her best not to choke on the bit of cookie in her mouth. 

“Um, I mean, some people end up regretting… certain things they get,” she replies, stumbling over her words. “You’re, um, definitely not the first to… y’know. Get their partner’s name done.”

He chuckles, but it seems more humorless than anything. “Yeah. Stupid mistake for sure.”

Y/N shrugs her shoulders. “It can’t be that stupid if you learned something from it.”

“What do you mean?”

She swallows the rest of her cookie and leans back against the cool, brick wall of the shop. It feels nice in comparison to the rising temperatures outside. Now that they’re slowly dipping into warmer climates, she finds herself appreciating small instances of cooling down, like an air conditioned coffee shop or the evening draft when the sun’s gone down.

“We all make mistakes or decisions that don’t end up working out. You’re certainly not the first person to get divorced or even get their significant other’s name tattooed,” she explains. “But did you get anything out of the process? Did you learn anything from it?”

Harry thinks for a moment. He hadn’t really considered that — not in the five years since he and May made their divorce official. It was a shitty experience from start to finish, that much was apparent. But when he ponders whether or not anything decent came out of it, he wonders if she has a point. 

“I mean, I guess I did. I don’t think I would be where I am, standing here now, if it hadn’t happened.”

She hums. “It wasn’t a complete waste then.”

He shrugs. “I guess not.”

Y/N pulls her phone from the pocket of her shorts and glances at the time. 2:58 p.m.

“We should probably head back inside. Your appointment’s starting soon,” she says, straightening out her posture. “Thank you again for the cookie.”

“Sure,” Harry nods. “Thanks for the advice.”

She shoots him the smallest of bashful smiles in response.

. . .

The following Tuesday, Y/N feels far less intimidated about seeing Harry. 

In a weird way, she’s actually looking forward to his 3 p.m. appointment. He’s way more talkative than some of the other clients that come in, and she’d be lying if she said his little cookie stunt from last week hadn’t placed him in her good graces. She also felt as though it was a crime not to acknowledge how attractive he was — she’d noticed it from the first moment he stepped into the shop, but now that they were on better terms, she was more open to recognizing it. Beyond the plethora of tattoos that covered his skin, he didn’t look much like other people Y/N had gone after in the past — not that she was going after him in any way. 

Her exes consisted of a rough roster of less than satisfactory partners: There was Declan, who she dated in college, but they broke up after he got kicked out for doing stick-and-poke tattoos in his dorm room. After that was Alice, but it turned out she was just using Y/N to figure out her sexuality and, after three months of dating, decided she didn’t like going down on girls. Lastly and most recently there was Jonathan, who had so many tattoos he lost count. He had big dreams of becoming either a professional skateboarder or a drummer in a punk band, but he didn’t own a bed frame so his mattress took permanent real estate on the dirty, hardwood floor of his loft, and he was constantly sending Y/N Venmo requests for money with captions like “pls babe haven’t eaten in 2 days.” (It’s safe to say that all of those relationships ended for good reasons.)

While she didn’t have any plans to approach Harry romantically, there was something about him that piqued her interest. Well, maybe it was multiple somethings. For one, he was 12 years older than her. She’d never thought about dating someone that much older, but she happened to sneak a glance at his consent form to see his date of birth just out of plain — and legal — curiosity. Harry seemed to have his life together. Every time he came to the shop, he was coming straight from work in what appeared to be a put-together, expensive suit. He always tipped Jan well (30% for each session — Y/N knows because she did the math) and he was kind to all the artists, even if he’d never spoken to them before. And, she had to admit that the communication and vulnerability he offered last week had been a stark change from the treatment she was used to. 

Yeah, so maybe she had an eensy, tiny, miniscule crush on Harry. But she’s sure it’ll fade away once he’s finished with his coverup — he only has two sessions left, anyway. How much damage could be done in that small of a timeframe? 

. . .

“Y/N, I need you to postpone Harry’s session today!” 

Jan’s haphazardly running around and grabbing her things, mumbling out nonsense as she looks for her car keys. Confused, Y/N gets up from her seat at the front desk. 

“Is everything okay?” she calls out as she walks over to the jacket closet, grabbing Jan’s keyring off the hook. Shutting the door behind her, she finds Jan scrambling through her office. When her eyes flit up to see the keys in Y/N’s hand, her eyebrows relax as she grabs them. 

“Not really,” she mutters, yanking her phone out of her pocket, “You know that girl I’ve been seeing? Lizzy? She was at my place with my dogs today and apparently one of them must’ve eaten something bad because now they won’t stop throwing up. I’m meeting her at the vet downtown. Tell Harry I’m really sorry, okay?”

Jan is gone in a flash, running down the sidewalk to get in her car. Y/N can’t blame her — her dogs are her entire life, so her stomach sinks as she thinks about something bad happening to them. She makes a mental note to text her and check in with her later, but not before she messages Harry to let him know that his appointment is canceled.

When she heads back to her desk, she brings up Harry’s digital paperwork to retrieve his number. They don’t have a phone specifically for the shop, so she has to text him from her personal number, which makes her heart beat a little too quickly for her own good. She nibbles on her bottom lip as she types out a message: Hey Harry, this is Y/N from Jaded. I’m just texting to let you know that Jan had an emergency and can’t tattoo you this afternoon. She’s really sorry about the inconvenience. 

She places her locked phone down on the dark mahogany of the desk and tries to ignore the pit of disappointment that settles in her stomach. Had she spent a few extra minutes primping her appearance this morning in preparation to see him? Maybe, and there’s a teensy, tiny part of her that despises herself for it. Harry doesn’t want anything to do with her. She’s 12 years his junior and she’s nothing more than the nice receptionist at the tattoo shop he’s getting a piece done at. 

With a self-deprecating sigh, she picks at her fingernails when her phone lights up. She reads Harry’s name across the screen and assumes he’s probably responded with something kind and unassuming; something that will make her heart beat embarrassingly fast in her chest. 

That’s okay. Thanks for the heads up. 

Are you still at the shop? Maybe we can get together instead.

Y/N’s eyes are the size of saucers as she quickly replies: okay! Where should we meet?

. . .

Harry chooses a coffee shop that’s within walking distance of Jaded. He’s never been there before but each week he noticed Y/N sipping on iced drinks with the name of the cafe sprawled across the cup, so he figured she must like it.

It’s been a long while since a girl has been Harry nervous, and he’s somewhat surprised that she comes wrapped up in a body with sprawling tattoos and piercings, always in cute skirts and platform Doc Martens. She’s sweet — he likes that her shoes are so heavy that he can hear her walking before he sees her and that she fiddles with her nose ring when she’s bored. He likes that her wardrobe is a rotation of baggy band tee-shirts and black jeans or plaid skirts, that her soft, smooth hands are covered in nonsensical designs that likely have stories similar to his — a friend with a tattoo gun, a boring Tuesday afternoon. She’s nothing that Harry has ever been attracted to and yet, she’s everything he wants.

He’s made careful efforts not to put her on a pedestal. At first, he wasn’t sure if he was just horny and depraved — I mean, what kind of guy would walk into the shop and not drool over the pretty, young girl working the front? And while he’s not entirely proud of what he did next, he found it to be a necessary next step: He sorted through his rolodex of hookups, texted his most foolproof girl (a tall, leggy brunette who modeled on the side), and invited her over. 

It turns out, Harry could only come when he pretended she was Y/N. 

In hindsight, it made him feel gross and icky; lusting over a girl who’s certainly at least 10 years younger. It’s why he forces himself to try — if she rejects him, he can move on with his life and find someone more age-appropriate. 

But she doesn’t. In fact, she replies within a minute and asks where she should meet him.

It’s how Harry ends up clutching a small Americano in his hand, sitting in a back booth at Buzzybee Cafe.

He’s nibbling on his bottom lip, nervous and jumpy, keeping his eyes glued on the front entrance. Every now and then, he’ll glimpse down at his phone on the table to check the time. He halfway expects her to text and let him know that she’s not coming — an understandable and believable excuse about getting busy at work or, Harry doesn’t know, maybe not wanting to meet up with someone who’s older. Why would she? She’s capable of getting nearly anyone she wants in this world, she’s pretty and funny and smart and stands up for herself and—

“Hey, Harry.”

His spiraling thoughts come to a screeching halt when he glances up to see the object of his affection standing over him with a small, timid smile on her lips. He blinks, somewhat surprised that she’s there. 

In front of him. 

And he hasn’t said a thing yet. 

“Hey,” Harry finally forces out, his throat bobbing as he swallows nervously, “You made it.”

“Of course!” her eyes light up and he feels his heart thump noisily in his chest, “What’d you get to drink? Do you need anything?”

“Just an Americano,” he answers, trying not to feel lame about his boring drink choice. Y/N wrinkles her face in response. 

“You would be one of those manly ‘I-only-drink-espresso-and-black-coffee’ kind of guys, wouldn’t you?” 

She says it with a teasing smile and it offers him permission for a small scoff to leave his throat followed by a joking roll of the eyes. 

“What, was I supposed to get one of those sugary drinks you always seem to get?” he fires back, making Y/N’s eyes widen.

“They’re not that bad!” she exclaims through plush, lipstick-stained lips, “Here, now I’m gonna order one and make you try it. You’ve dug your grave, Styles!”

She’s turning on her Doc Marten-clad foot to order before Harry has the chance to offer to pay for her order. That had been the plan, but like most things about Y/N, he realizes, those pre-decided upon strategies get tossed out the window the second she pops up. It makes Harry jiggle his leg beneath the table, both as an expression of unfamiliar excitement and nervousness. 

She returns to their table with some sort of coffee-hued concoction with whipped cream piled high. It makes Harry’s nose crinkle, and he doesn’t notice that Y/N smiles at the way his skin ripples underneath the cute expression. 

“Okay, since you were kind of a dick to me the day we met, you have no choice but to try it.” 

Harry’s eyes instantly form into rounded saucers, apologies quick to make it to the tip of his tongue. Before he can start, she puts her hand up. 

“I don’t care about it now, you’ve already apologized for it. But the only way for us to move on is if you try my white mocha frappé.”

“Y/N,” Harry sighs. He scoots his elbows forward and peers up at her. “What the fuck is a frappé?”

She giggles before wrapping her lips around the straw, taking a hearty sip of the drink, “It’s like a blended coffee. It’s my go-to when I’m having a shit day.”

“You drink this when you’re having a bad day?” Harry asks as she pushes the cup in his direction. “You don’t think this will fuck your stomach up enough to absolutely ruin your day?”

“No, because it’s a fun treat. And a little treat will brighten up anyone’s day.”

Y/N answers his question like it’s plain and simple science. He wants to continue on about the sugar content, how this is likely a heart attack neatly compiled into a 16-ounce cup, but he can’t — not when he looks at her and she stares back with an expectant expression, waiting for him to take a sip.

“Fine,” he mumbles, flexing his fingers to wrap them around the cold plastic cup, “But promise you won’t bring up my… shortcomings anymore?”

Y/N grins. “Scout’s honor.”

It tastes exactly how Harry expected — sugary, way too sweet, and slightly nauseating. But when he sees that puppy-like look of excitement painted over her face, he can’t help but let out a quiet laugh and shake his head. 

“See? That wasn’t too bad.” Y/N replies as she takes her drink back. 

“No,” not when you look at me like that, “Not at all.”

. . . 

Harry and Y/N sit tucked away in their booth at Buzzybee for far too long.

It’s easy to talk to her, Harry finds. She’s receptive and kind and lets him finish his stories without interrupting. She doesn’t judge him for his divorce, not even when he tells her that he played just as much of a part in ruining his marriage as May did. He tells her about his job as a museum curator, his affinity for playing tennis on the weekends, his six year-long trek with veganism, and his secret passion for hunting down vintage band tee-shirts from the 1970s and ‘80s. 

Y/N isn’t ashamed to reveal just as much which, if she’s being honest, is quite uncharacteristic for her. It typically takes weeks, if not months for her to completely warm up to a person and start telling them about her hobbies, family dynamic, and the time her grandma cried when she realized she got her nose pierced. She tells him about how much she loves playing cozy video games on her Nintendo Switch, the myriad of plants and greenery that decorate her loft apartment, and how she actually started working at Jaded to become a tattoo apprentice, but ended up falling in love with working the front instead.

By the time the cafe is closing up and the nice employees are now glaring at them, silently pleading that they leave, Harry feels like he’s known Y/N for a million years. In some weird way, he doesn’t know how he’s gone this long without her bright smile and saccharine laughter in his life. It’s all he can think about as they throw their empty cups away and slowly stroll down the sidewalk, back in the direction of the tattoo shop. He doesn’t mean to be lost in his thoughts as 

Y/N chatters on about the latest game she’s been playing in her down time, but he can’t ignore the small shining pit of happiness that’s glowing deep in his belly right now. He’s missed this — this hopeful feeling with the promise of someone special on the other end. 

It’s all he can think about as they approach Y/N’s car and, when she turns to face him to say goodbye, he’s already blurting the words out without a second thought.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

She blinks, parting her plush lips as her tongue peeks over the ridges of her two front teeth. “Oh… I thought— this wasn’t a date?”

Harry’s eyes widen, “Oh! I mean— it could if you wanted it to be. I just— I didn’t ask you beforehand and I’d want to do that. And pay for you and all that.”

“I’m sorry if I misunderstood, I just thought— I don’t know what I thought—”

“No, you were right, I was just being dumb—”

“No, no!” Y/N shakes her head and the smile that edges at her lips makes Harry’s chest pulse with relief. “We’re both being silly, I think. I would love to go on a date with you, though.”

“Yeah?” he asks, the slight disbelief apparent in his voice, “Are you free this weekend?”

She nods with a small smile.

“How about Saturday? You can come over and I’ll cook you dinner?”

She has to bite her lip to hide the growing grin on her lips. “Okay. I’ll see you Saturday.”

He watches as she starts her car and pulls away from the curb to make sure she’s safe on her way home.

. . .

On Saturday evening, Y/N shows up to Harry’s house. She wears her favorite black midi dress and matches them with a pair of clunky boots. When she arrives, the smile that encompasses Harry’s face makes her chest glow. 

He’d texted her earlier that day to make sure she didn’t have any dietary restrictions and made them a delicious pasta dinner. Afterwards, they cuddle on the couch, Y/N’s heart thrumming quickly in her chest at the close proximity. When it’s finally time for her to go home, Harry seals the deal by smearing his lips against hers. It’s warm and soft and his large palms splay over her hips as she wraps her arms around him, gently playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.

By the time she gets home that evening (texting Harry to let him know she got back safely, per his request), they both know they’re head over heels for one another. 

. . .

Perhaps quite predictably, Harry and Y/N start seeing each other more regularly after that first afternoon at Buzzybee Cafe. It’s slow at first — Harry’s nervous about scaring her away, so he sets boundaries with himself, only pledging to text her a few times a week. She’s receptive, though, and he’s thrilled that her messages start coming in more often: Sometimes pictures of dogs that come in with clients to the shop, other times it’s memes that remind her of him. (She’ll sometimes have to explain them to him because he, embarrassingly enough, doesn’t always understand.) Weeks of casual texting complimented by his weekly appointments with Jan tumble into daily good morning texts accompanied by selfies and outfit shots. When his tattoo of his ex-wife’s name is finally covered up by a detailed illustration of a sailing ship, he’s anxious in his realization that he’ll have to come up with new ways to regularly see her, but she’s already two steps ahead of him with an invitation to their second (official, third unofficial) date for the upcoming weekend. 

The rest is somewhat history. 

Well, sort of.

It’s a month and a half in when Harry asks Y/N to accompany him to a work event at some smarmy art museum in the city. His office had had a huge hand in sourcing the pieces and there were a ton of donors involved, so the museum’s director was throwing some type of soiree to celebrate the opening. Inviting Y/N as his plus one was a no-brainer — call him old fashioned, but he had plans to ask her to be his girlfriend sometime soon. He wanted to make it special, though, maybe with a candlelit dinner at her favorite Thai restaurant or a well thought-out picnic in the park they loved to walk through on the weekends. 

“This isn’t, like, on the level of the Met Gala or something, is it?” Y/N asks that evening as she swipes a q-tip beneath the sharp cat eye of her eyeliner. Harry snorts and shakes his head from his spot in the doorway, where he watches as she diligently finishes up her eye makeup. He’d picked her up from work and eaten an early dinner together before they planned to head out to the museum. 

“It’s really not a big deal, it’s just a small event with a bunch of snooty art people,” Harry replies nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s wearing a fashionable set tonight, consisting of a powder blue undershirt and a navy blazer with matching trousers. As usual, his fingers don their usual jewelry. When Y/N saw what he was wearing, she’d wanted to match him, but she didn’t have any dresses in her closet that weren’t black. He insisted that it was fine, but there was a teensy sliver of her that felt bad about it. 

“How snooty?”

He thinks for a moment. “I mean, no one will be mean to you if that’s what you’re worried about. I’d never let that happen anyway.”

She ignores the way her cheeks warm as she sweeps some bronzer over the structure of her face. 

“It’ll be fine, baby,” he murmurs, coming up from behind her. He knows better than to disturb her while she’s doing her makeup, so he waits for her movements to still before he drops a kiss to the top of her head. Her heart stutters at the pet name. “Almost done, yeah? We gotta leave soon.”

“Mhmm,” she nods, picking up her freshly sharpened lip liner, “Just gotta do my lips and put my dress on and we’re good.”

“I don’t know why you’re putting lipstick on when I’m not gonna be able to keep my mouth off yours all night.” he instantly fires back as he issues a squeeze to her waistline. Y/N squeals and bats him away, eager for some peace from Harry’s playful teasing. He chuckles, presses a kiss to her temple, and murmurs out something about calling the Uber as he leaves the bathroom. 

Y/N has to force the smile off her face so she can finish applying her lip liner.

. . .

Apparently, when Harry meant “snooty”, he really meant to say, “the most annoying, judgemental, snobby people on planet Earth”. 

From the second Harry and Y/N had stepped into the museum that evening, she was on the receiving end of horrified stares. From the colorful ink that decorated her arms to her arm being threaded through Harry’s, it seemed like everyone had something to gawk at. Truthfully, she was used to people looking at her — not in an arrogant, “pick me” kind of way, but in the way where she understood she had tons of tattoos that some people liked and others hated. 

But the snide eyes weren’t just because of her ink, and she knows that. It’s because she’s here with Harry.

Harry, who knows nearly everyone at this event.

Harry, who’s apparently one of the most high up curators at his job and Y/N had no idea.

Harry, who’s capable of rubbing elbows with even the rudest of people while Y/N just stands there, unsure of what to say, because when the first person asked her what she does for work and she said “I work at a tattoo shop”, they replied with a simple, disgusted, “oh.”

She feels like an idiot.

She feels small.

She feels judged.

And the person she came here with is doing nothing, aside from the occasional grimace when the conversation finally ends.

Y/N’s last straw comes in the form of one of the museum’s assistant directors, who comes over to thank Harry once again for all of his hard work. When her eyes dart to Y/N, who has one hand curled around yet another glass of fizzy champagne, they widen and pingpong back to Harry. 

“Harry, you didn’t tell me you had a daughter!” she exclaims as her lips stretch into a huge grin. Immediately, Y/N’s arm drops from Harry’s and she swallows as bile begins to build in her throat.

“Oh— Gwen, no, this isn’t— t-this isn’t my daughter,” Harry stutters nervously, blinking as he watches the horrified look in Y/N’s eyes. “Um, this is Y/N. We’ve been seeing each other.”

Gwen’s eyebrows raise, “Oh, my mistake. Apologies to you both. I just assumed Harry would spend his time with someone a bit more… savory.” her gaze flits back to Harry. “You must understand.”

Y/N doesn’t allow herself to hear Harry’s response. She knows he’s too kind and professional to chew her up and spit her out the way she wants him to. Instead, she simply slams her glass down on the nearest waiter’s tray, turns around, and rushes out of the building. 

The words continue to replay in her head as tears flood her vision. All she wants to do is go home. She never should have entertained this relationship — who does she think she is? Someone a bit more… savory.

You didn’t tell me you had a daughter!

You must understand.

Fat, salty slip down her cheeks as she walks outside, her platform heels clicking against the concrete sidewalk. She doesn’t know where she’s going, instead just picking a direction and walking in it as she uses the back of her hand to wipe the wetness away.

You must understand. 

You must understand.

You must understand.

Because everyone, including Y/N now, gets it — she doesn’t fit in to Harry’s world. She never has and she never will, and it was pathetic for either of them to think she ever would. 

Gripping her silky dress in her hands, she continues walking as far as she can get from the museum. As her vision begins to clear, she makes half-baked decisions: She’ll order an Uber when the distance from Harry is decent enough to feel comfortable. She’ll block his number. She won’t even care to pick up any of the clothing she’s left at his house, and she’ll simply throw away the few tee-shirts and sweatshirts he’s left at hers. 

She doesn’t know how long she’s been walking but she’s ripped from her thoughts when she hears loud calls of her name. She recognizes the voice — how couldn’t she, not when he’s the only person that’s seeped through her psyche and into cotton candy tufts of her dreamland — and tries to quicken her pace. She mentally curses the heels on her feet, sniffling as she begins to limp from the pain of the high platforms.

“Y/N, please! Stop!” 

The sound of his shouts only makes her eyes blur with tears once again and suddenly, the tall figure is beside her, panting and breathing loudly. He wraps a careful arm around her shoulders as he matches her slow pace and shushes her, caroling them over to the side in front of a business that’s already closed for the night. Through weepy eyes, she can hardly make out his face, but she can tell it’s Harry just from his touch and scent alone. 

“Baby, please,” he says, slowly smoothing his hand down her back. It’s comforting and she wishes it wasn’t. “You have to breathe, honey. C’mon, inhale and exhale.”

Y/N’s brain is a wash of noisy static so she welcomes the direction, quickly abandoning her plans to remove herself from Harry’s life. It helps that he’s reminding her of how to do the most basic of human functions, guiding her in slow, deep breaths that start to regulate her speeding heart. 

“There you go, sweetheart. You’re doing so good.” 

When she finally manages a glimpse up at him, his eyes are bleary and red-rimmed. She finds it difficult to believe that he would’ve been crying over her, too, so she quickly blinks and looks away. 

“What happened back there?” Harry asks, his throat bobbing with a swallow, “I know that was weird, but why did you run? Why couldn’t you have talked to me?”

Y/N can’t fight the scoff that forces itself free from her chest. “All night, people were staring at me like I was some kind of alien. As if my tattoos weren’t enough of a reason to gawk, they were looking at me like I didn’t even deserve to be standing next to you. I felt pathetic, Harry. I just— I don’t fit in with this lifestyle and I think it’s better if we just… just leave it.”

“What lifestyle?” Harry demands as his eyebrows thicken with anger, “I’m not like them, you know that—”

“I don’t want to go places and have people think I’m your daughter, Harry!” she yells with wide eyes, “I don’t want to be looked down upon if we go to a work thing for you! People acted like I was your fucking sugar baby. Do you know how demeaning that is?”

“And do you realize how disgusting that makes me feel?” he seethes. “Bringing someone 12 years younger than me? Being in love with someone who wasn’t even around for the first part of my life?”

“You don’t mean that,” Y/N breathes, shaking her head in angry dismissal. “You’re just saying that.”

Harry takes a hesitant step closer and reaches out to cradle her elbow. “Yes, I do. I would never lie to you, Y/N. But I love you— I love you so much that it’s killing me that you would ever think you don’t have a place in my life.”

“I don’t, Harry—”

“You do,” he cuts her off and reaches to take her hands in his palms, squishing her cheeks together. “I don’t give a fuck what anyone else says or thinks. I don’t care what they think of us. I love you, Y/N. I want you in my life.”

Y/N swallows harshly. She can’t escape his locked-in gaze, but she doesn’t want to. It’s all she needed, even if she didn’t realize it until now — the verbalization that he wants her there. And that’s enough. 

“Okay,” she whispers, nodding her head in his grasp. His eyes widen. “Okay. I want to be in your life, too.”

“You promise?” 

A small smile curls at the edges of her lips. “I promise,” she says, leaning forward to press a light kiss to his lips. “Take me home now, please.”

. . .

The second Harry and Y/N walk through the doorway of his place, it’s a blurry scene of spit swollen lips, wet kisses, and sprawling touches. 

Harry imagined their first time being far more romantic than this, but he doesn’t care. Neither of them do. Now, more than ever, they need each other. 

The air is thick with tension when Harry momentarily breaks their kiss only to shed Y/N of the straps on her shoulders. He gently tugs them down to her shoulders before slowly traveling down her body, sliding his large palms over the silky fabric of her dress to meet her platform heels, where he diligently unbuckles them and slips them off her feet. 

“Thank you,” she breathes, watching as he gets back up from his knees. He hums and cups her chin with his fingers, bringing her closer to lightly kiss her lips. 

“I want to show you that you’re not making a mistake,” he whispers as he gently leans his forehead up against hers. “That giving me a chance is something you won’t regret.”

Immediately she shakes her head. Despite the close view of her face, Harry can tell her eyebrows knit together; a familiar furrow whenever she’s particularly determined. 

“I know it’s not. You don’t have to show me anything.”

He notices that her fingers shake as she brings them up to his neck, winding them around to the back of his head. He swallows, allowing her the space to experiment, both verbally and physically. 

And then: “I love you, Harry.”

At first, he doesn’t say anything. His heart races and his chest feels warm as he blinks, repeating the words in his brain. 

Finally, raspberry lips part. 

“You don’t have to say that just because I said it,” he murmurs, thumbing over the apple of her cheek. “We can go slow. There’s no pressure.”

“I know,” she nods, “I know. But I do. I love you so much.”

A pause. 

“I love you,” Harry says, sliding his hands down the curves of her sides and to her waist. “Fuck, I love you, Y/N.”

“Don’t stop saying it.” she whispers. His fingers dip below the material of her dress and she swallows when he finds the bare skin of her hips. Exhaling shakily, she allows him to pull her lacey underwear down over the bend of her bum, letting them pool uselessly at her feet. 

“I love you.” he says again, his hands suddenly at her wrists. He uses his gentle grasp to lift her arms up so he can push the dress up and over her body, leaving her in just the strapless bra she’d fit herself into for the evening. Just as quickly, his skilled fingers pop the clasp open, and they’re in a futile pool of Y/N’s clothes while Harry stands before her, still in his navy blue ensemble. 

It’s a vulnerable place to be but she doesn’t hate it — not when he stares at her with soft eyes, dragging his gaze up and down the expanse of her form. She wants to cover herself, but she doesn’t. Instead, she reaches forward and thumbs open the button of his blazer before sliding the fabric off his torso. Just as he did to her, he watches as she slowly sheds him of his shirt, then his trousers, and finally, his briefs. 

His cock is thick and long and Y/N’s hand immediately loops around it the second it slaps up against his lower belly. He hisses and grabs her hips, pressing blunt fingernails into the soft skin as he pushes her back against the couch. All too flawlessly, he’s now given himself the upper hand, hovering over her naked body, his biceps bulging as he keeps himself up. 

“Please,” she says breathily, “I want you. No teasing.”

Harry huffs out a guttural chuckle as he begins to plant kisses along her collarbones and down to her chest, landing just above her belly button. 

“I’m big,” he murmurs into her skin. “‘M not trying to tease. Just don’t want to hurt you.”

“I can do it,” Y/N insists, her voice growing whiney with need. “Don’t wanna wait any longer.”

"You're cute when you beg." Harry mumbles out in response as his lips curve into a smirk. Her jaw drops a smidge, prepared to respond, but he quickly stretches over her body to press his lips to hers again. Just as it was the moment they came home, the kiss is frantic and driven with energy, filled with tension and electricity. Harry catches each of her noisy whimpers with his lips, a groan of his own on the verge of tumbling out. He feels her squeeze her thighs together and assumes it’s an attempt to relieve some of the pressure building in her core, making his cock continue to swell between their bodies. If he wanted to, he knows he could get them off just like this — him grinding against the soft skin of her stomach while he dips a few fingers into her sopping pussy. But they both need more than that.

Again, he breaks this kiss, this time resulting in a rather frustrated Y/N. Her lips are slicked with spit and swollen from the frenzied kissing, his likely appearing the same.

"Is this okay?"

"Yes," she breathes, nodding her head like a bobblehead, "Yes, I want you. Please."

"You want me?" he teases, and she has to resist rolling her eyes at the sudden uptick of arrogance. "That's awfully forward of you. What happened to my sweet good girl?"

"I'm still here," she whines, "Harry, please, you're— you're being mean, you know what I want."

He ducks under her jaw to press soft kisses along her neck, gently sucking at spots of skin. Light splotches appear from the welcomed assault, ensuring that they remember this long after it’s over. She instantly weaves her painted fingernails into his curly hair.

"Tell me what you want." Harry demands, placing his hands on either side of her head. He keeps his palms flush against the throw pillow, caging her in. Her face begins to flush and her lips flutter over the words, so he leans down to brush his nose against hers; a reminder that she’s safe. "Go ahead, bun."

"I want you to fuck me," she mumbles, her bottom lip nearly quivering with need. She looks like she could cry all over again — only this time, for good reasons.

He reaches his hand up to her mouth, jutting his thumb out to pull at her lip. Immediately responsive, she parts her lips, making him smile as he pushes his finger inside. She sucks at it lightly.

"You're so good. So cute, so good," he says softly, watching her. "I want you just as bad, sweet girl. Y'sure you're ready for my cock? I haven't even seen your pretty pussy yet—"

"Shut up," she mutters out, his thumb laying heavy on her tongue. "I can take it. Promise.” He lets out a laugh at her sudden boldness. He removes his finger from her mouth, mumbling out a greedy girl as he leans down to wrap his lips around a nipple, moving his hand down to her mound. 

At risk of her snapping at him again, he presses a thumb to her clit, applying just enough pressure to make her gasp. He begins to circle his thumb tightly, her muscles suddenly tightening underneath his grasp. Selfishly, he takes joy in watching her slowly crumble underneath him, her soft whimpers growing into moans when he dips his finger further down, circling her hole once, twice, before dipping in.

"H," she whined, her eyes screwed shut."What, bunny?"

"I— please, need your cock, no more teasing."

He stills his fingers inside of her, gently pulling them out. On any other day, maybe he would have persisted with the slow burn of pleasure, but he’s feeling just as desperate as her. He wraps his fist around the head of his cock, using strings of her arousal to slowly pump, relieving some of the built up pressure.

"Y'still good, baby?" he asks, resisting the groan at the tip of his tongue.

"Yes, daddy."

His head snaps up to see an arrogant smirk painted on her features. "Are you gonna fuck me now?"

This time, he finally does let out a moan.

Shuffling his knees forward, he rubs his cock against her core, painting the tip from her clit to her hole, up and down, until she wiggles her hips down. He smirks as she lets out a pathetic whine. Slowly, he pushes forward, the tip of my cock instantly encased by her tight walls. He hisses at the feeling and reaches down to grab her hip, his hand gripping her skin tightly.

"More," she chokes, nodding her head eagerly, "Please, more, daddy."

Once he knows that she’s not in any pain from the intrusion, he keeps going until his hips are flush against her warm skin, his cock buried deep inside of her. Her plush lips form a soft 'o' as she reaches forward to rake her nails down my chest, a silent plea to move.

"You feel so fucking good, bunny," he mutters out as he begins to snap my hips, slowly building a steady pace. He’s careful not to push her too quickly, but the fear of coming too fast is consistent in his brain. Despite sleeping with his fair share of people, he’s never felt so complete inside of someone. The way her pussy is so snug and tight around his cock makes him feel like an addict.

She’s a moaning mess beneath him, her fingernails pressing harshly into his back. Her eyes are wide and teary now, making him smirk as he lifts a finger to wipe the liquid away.

"Don' need to cry, babe, you're doing so good for me." he says, leaning down to pepper kisses over the surface of her face.

"Yeah?" She gasped, her hand snaking down the length of her body. Her fingertips quickly find her clit and he looks down to watch her make tight little circles into the skin.

"So fuckin' good," he mumbles, entranced by the sight of her touching herself, "y'gonna cum all over daddy's cock, angel girl?" She nods eagerly and he speeds up his thrusts, desperate to make her finish before he manages to explode. He can feel his muscles clenching, her pussy somehow getting even tighter with every movement.

"What do you need?" he grits out with a clenched jaw.

She’s moments away from finishing now; he can feel and see it, but he’s determined to push her over the edge. Swallowing harshly, her jaw drops as she mumbles out, "c-choke me, please." 

Groaning, he wraps his hand around the column of her throat, pressing gently against her windpipe. He watches as her eyes roll back and feels the way her muscles instantly contract around his cock, triggering his own orgasm to approach. At the sounds of her moans, he quickly pulls out and pumps his cock twice before finishing all over her stomach and chest, a splatter of come painting itself on her soft skin. They’re both breathless and Harry resists the urge to completely collapse against the girl beneath him. He would have, if not for Y/N’s closed eyes as she catches her breath. In the silence of the moment, he takes in the appearance of her naked body covered in his come. Grimacing slightly at his softening prick, he grabs his boxers and shuffles them over his hips. He stands from the couch and straightens his posture when he hears a sleepy mumble from below. "Where are y'going?" "Gonna clean you up," Harry says softly, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead, "be right back, 'kay, bunny?” Y/N asleep before he returns a few minutes later with a wet washcloth. He sits at the edge of the couch and gently runs it over her body, wiping away the remnants of their intimacy. Her eyes blink open when she realizes he’s returned, granting him a small, lazy smile. He returns it. “You did so good for me,” he murmurs, tossing the dirty cloth on the floor. He’ll throw it in the washing machine later, but right now, taking care of this sleepy, fucked out lump is the top priority. “Do you wanna go upstairs and change? Go to sleep in my bed?” She shakes her head. “Let’s sleep down here. Too tired to move.” And yeah, maybe Harry hasn’t slept on a couch since he was in his 20s because he has back problems. Yes, his hips will surely ache from sharing the space with the girl he’s been crushing on for months. Surely, they’ll shift positions multiple times throughout the night as they attempt to find something that’s semi-comfortable for the both of them. But he’ll do anything to see Y/N smile. “Sure, baby,” he replies, grabbing a soft throw blanket from the end of the couch. He wiggles himself into her side so he’s holding her from behind, tossing the cozy material over their bodies. “G’night. Lemme know if you need anything.”

She hums, and then it’s silent.

Harry allows his eyes to fall closed, sinking into the comfort of the warm girl beside him. It’s only then that he hears her inhale, followed by seven soft words: “I love you, Harry. I mean it.”

He tucks his face into her shoulder and hides the grin that stretches over his face.

“I love you, Y/N. I mean it.”

#writing #olderry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles one direction #one direction #harry styles fic rec #harry's house #hs4 #fine line #harry styles story #harry styles short story #harry styles series

[justlemmeadoreyou]

solace* (famous!harry x masseuse!y/n)

summary: harry is in need of some unwinding and destressing, and he finds the perfect masseuse for that. they end up growing much closer than the relationship they began with, but it's never that easy, is it?

words: 6.4k (she's long)

warnings: smut in this one: p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), cursing, dirty talk, fingering, creampie.

"Just lay down on the table and relax. I'll take good care of you."

Y/N tried to keep her voice steady and professional as she greeted her new client, the one and only Harry Styles. The famous former athlete turned singer was lying face down on the massage table, a towel draped over his lower body.

Y/N had been a masseuse at this high-end spa for two years, but she had never worked on someone so famous before. She was intimidated but determined not to show it. Treating Harry just like any other client was the only way she could get through this.

"You're the expert," Harry's muffled voice came from the face cradle. "I'm in your hands."

Y/N gulped at the unintended innuendo. Get it together, she scolded herself. This is strictly business.

She warmed up some lotion in her hands and began working on Harry's muscular back and shoulders. Almost immediately, she could feel the tightness and knots from years of intense athletic training.

"You've got a lot of built-up tension in here," she commented, digging her fingers in to loosen a stubborn knot. "What sort of athletic background are we working with?"

"Footie, if you go by my English roots," Harry said, sucking in a sharp breath as she worked a particularly tender spot. "Played striker on an academy team as a kid before my interests shifted to music in my late teens."

Y/N raised her eyebrows, impressed. She had no idea Harry was such a talented athlete on top of his musical skills. Somehow that made her former crush on him even more intimidating.

As she moved down to his lower back, she tried to keep her touches clinical and impersonal. But she couldn't help noticing how toned Harry's body was, the muscles rippling beneath her hands. 

Stop ogling him, you're being completely unprofessional! She gave herself another firm mental rebuke.

For a while, the only sounds were Harry's occasional groans as Y/N dug into his tight knots and the relaxing spa music playing softly in the background. But eventually, Harry broke the silence.

"You know, you seem a bit nervous around me. Is it because I'm....well, me?"

Y/N felt her cheeks burn. She should have known he would pick up on her awkwardness.

"I'm just trying to stay focused," she mumbled, unable to keep the embarrassment out of her voice entirely. "I don't want to slip up and disappoint an important client like yourself."

To her surprise, Harry let out a low chuckle. "Love, I may be famous but I'm just a regular bloke like any other. No need to be nervous."

His voice was warm and full of humor, putting Y/N more at ease. She realized she had been building him up as some intimidating celebrity in her mind when really he seemed down-to-earth.

Feeling emboldened, she decided to open up a bit. "To be honest, I may have...had a bit of a crush on you back in the day. Your music was a big part of my teen years."

"Is that so?" Harry sounded both flattered and amused. "Well, I'll take it as a compliment from a pretty lady like yourself."

Y/N felt her traitorous cheeks heating up again. Were they...flirting now? She couldn't tell if he was just being charming or if there was real interest there.

She tried to keep things professional as she moved on to his arms and legs, though her lingering shyness made it difficult. Harry seemed to sense it, not pushing things but keeping up his friendly banter that had her laughing in spite of herself.

By the end of the ninety minutes, Y/N was disappointed for the massage to be over. Some of the intimidation had faded, replaced by an easy rapport. Almost as if...they could really be friends, or more, not just client and masseuse.

As Harry redressed and prepared to leave, he paused and gave her a heart-stoppingly charming smile. "Same time next week? I'll need to keep these knots at bay."

Y/N couldn't resist smiling back, a warm flutter in her belly. "I'll be here. It's a date."

Wait, did she actually just say that?! She wanted to cringe at her awkward choice of words.

But Harry just chuckled easily, not seeming bothered at all. "A date it is, then. I look forward to it."

As he sauntered out, Y/N exhaled a long breath. Suddenly, her job had gotten a lot more...interesting.

Over the next few months, Y/N looked forward to Harry's weekly appointments increasingly more. They had fallen into an easy, teasing back-and-forth during their sessions peppered with plenty of flirtatious banter. 

At first, Y/N firmly kept things within professional boundaries, no matter how strong her crush was growing. Harry may be a laid back, regular guy, but he was still a client at the end of the day.

However, the more she got to know the real Harry beyond his famous persona, the harder it became not to develop deeper feelings. His sharp wit, endless warmth and care for those around him, and genuine humility all endeared him to Y/N enormously.

For his part, Harry seemed to be growing quite fond of Y/N as well. He playfully requested she work extra hard on his "problem areas" and loved to tease her about her technique and bedroom eyes whenever she was really concentrating. Y/N would pretend to be flustered, but secretly loved their charged back-and-forth.

One week, Harry didn't show up for his usual appointment. Y/N tried not to feel too disappointed, figuring he must have just been busy. But when he missed his spot the following week as well with no notice, she began to worry something was wrong.

"Everything okay with Harry?" she couldn't help asking the spa receptionist. "I haven't seen him for his appointments lately."

The petite blonde receptionist gave her a sly grin. "Haven't you heard? There was an issue with his latest music release, so he's been dealing with that whole mess the past couple weeks."

Y/N frowned, concerned. Harry hadn't mentioned anything about work issues. Then again, she realized they had become so comfortable with each other that she always viewed him through a friend's lens rather than a client's now. 

Making a snap decision, Y/N pulled out her phone and drafted a text to the number Harry had given her months ago, just in case she ever needed to reschedule his slot.

"Hey there, just checking in! Missed you the past couple weeks and wanted to make sure everything is alright?"

She hit send before she could overthink it, her heart fluttering nervously. This was wildly unprofessional to text a client like this, even if Harry had become more of a friend really.

To her surprise, Harry texted back almost immediately.

"Y/N! Was just thinking about you, funny enough. I'm so sorry for going MIA, it's been a madhouse with this new album mess. Let me make it up to you with dinner this weekend?"

Y/N's eyes widened as she re-read the text. Was Harry...asking her on a date? Or was he just being friendly and suggesting they grab a bite to catch up? She wasn't sure, but her heart was pounding either way.

Throwing caution to the wind, she typed: "It's a date. Looking forward to it!"

If her massages with Harry had been growing increasingly charged lately, Y/N could only imagine how electric an actual date with him would be...

The rest of the week dragged by interminably for Y/N as she counted down to her dinner with Harry. She agonized over what to wear, settling on a slinky red dress that walked the line between casual date and fancy night out perfectly.

When Saturday evening finally arrived, Y/N felt uncharacteristically nervous as she pulled up to the chic restaurant Harry had chosen. What if she had been misreading everything and this was just a friendly dinner after all? She didn't want to make things weird if that was the case.

But the second Harry opened the door to greet her, looking unfairly handsome in a slick black button-down, her worries melted away. He was giving her the same heated look he got when she was working out a tight knot in his muscles - unmistakably attracted and intrigued.

"You look positively stunning, love," he murmured, taking her hand and giving it a delicate kiss. "Though I don't know what I was expecting, you always manage to blow me away."

Y/N felt her face heating up at his unabashed flattery, her pulse racing. She couldn't resist giving his bicep a playful squeeze.

"You're not looking too bad yourself, popstar. Now are we going to eat, or did you just invite me out to shamelessly flirt?"

Harry grinned wickedly. "Why can't we do both?"

The evening passed in a blur of delicious food, sinfully good wine, and the most scintillating conversation Y/N had ever experienced. She and Harry swapped stories, teased and joked, and delved into surprisingly deep philosophical discussions, all without missing a beat.

By the time they were splitting a decadent slice of chocolate cake for dessert, Y/N felt more relaxed and giddy than she had in years. Despite all her nervous buildup, the date was turning out perfectly.

"You know," Harry began conversationally as he licked some icing off his fork in a way that made Y/N's mouth go dry. "When you started as my masseuse, I'll admit I figured you were just another pretty face hired by the spa. Starstruck and nervous around me because of my image and all that rot."

Y/N felt her cheeks warm at his words, but Harry grinned teasingly to show he meant no offense. 

"But you proved me absolutely wrong in the best way possible, darling. Your skill and your spirit both blew me away. You're always so professional, but with this amazing warm heart and sharp wit just beneath the surface."

Y/N couldn't help smiling bashfully at his earnest compliments. "Well, you hardly made it easy to stay focused and impersonal, Mr. Cheeky Flirtmaster. I'm just glad we were able to become...friends."

She said the last word tentatively, wondering if Harry felt the same growing sense that they had become something more than that recently. His heated gaze and body language said as much, but she didn't want to assume.

Harry seemed to pick up on her hesitancy, his green eyes crinkling at the corners fondly.

"Y/N, I think we both know our 'friendship' has evolved into something deeper, at least for me. I've fancied you for months, maybe longer if I'm being honest with myself. You're bloody brilliant - smart, talented, caring, with a rocking body that drives me spare in the best way."

He reached across the table to take her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. The tender intimacy of the gesture made Y/N's heart skip a beat.

"What I'm asking is...would you want to make this official? Give us a real go as more than just mates?"

Y/N felt like the breath had been knocked out of her lungs. She had imagined hearing those words from Harry's lips more times than she could count. But now that he had actually said them, she was temporarily stunned into silence.

Seeing her speechlessness, Harry chuckled warmly. "No need to answer right this second, love. I know it's a lot to process coming from your formerly famous client-turned-mate. Just think it over, yeah?"

Y/N finally managed to find her voice, emboldened by the caring warmth in Harry's eyes. She turned her palm over, lacing their fingers together decisively.

"You don't have to give me time, Harry. I've been crazy about you for ages if I'm honest. Of course I want to give us a real shot. I can't think of anything I want more."

The brilliant smile that spread across Harry's face sent tingles down Y/N's spine. He brought her knuckles to his lips, brushing a soft kiss there.

"Then it's official. We're a couple now."

Y/N felt giddy, like the words were a dream. Her and Harry Styles, the man she'd fancied for years, were entering a relationship together. What were the odds?

"Should we, uh, keep things professional at the spa still?" she asked, suddenly wondering if their new situation would make things weird.

To her surprise, Harry shook his head adamantly. "Actually, I was thinking of finding a new masseuse. I wouldn't want to put you in an awkward position having to work on your boyfriend's body every week, tempting as that sounds."

He gave her a heated look and Y/N felt a rush of arousal, imagining all the new layers their massages would take on now.

"Fair point. I don't think I could keep things totally professional anymore either," she admitted with a coy smile.

Harry signaled for the check, keeping Y/N's hand linked with his posessively. "Then it's settled. I'm all yours now, darling. Though fair warning, I'll expect my massages in private from here on out."

The tone of his voice made Y/N shiver pleasantly in anticipation. Oh, this romance was going to be incredibly fun.

***

Over the next few months, Y/N felt like she was living in a wonderful dream. She and Harry were inseparable, their bonds of friendship strengthening into an unbreakable foundation as their passion grew.

They went on romantic dates, attended glamorous celebrity events, and spent long cozy nights together at Harry's place. Y/N felt herself falling harder and harder for the kind, charismatic man who never failed to dote on her or cheer her on.

One evening, Harry surprised her by having a limo pick her up from work at the spa. Y/N raised her eyebrows in amused confusion as she slid into the sleek black car, wondering what her doting boyfriend was up to now.

To her delighted shock, Harry was waiting inside wearing a dashing tuxedo. He held out a rose to her with a warm smile. 

"My love, you look as breathtaking as ever. Are you ready for our night on the town?"

Y/N laughed giddily, feeling like a princess in a fairytale as Harry showered her with kisses. "You'll have to tell me where we're going, love!"

"Well, first we have dinner reservations at the city's most exclusive new restaurant. And afterward..." Harry trailed off teasingly before pulling a pair of tickets from his inner jacket pocket. "I've arranged for us to have a private vip loge at the opera!"

Y/N's jaw dropped. She knew Harry took great pride in planning thoughtful, romantic gestures, but she was blown away by this grand occasion. The evening was straight out of a storybook.

"Harry, this is...I can't even put into words," she breathed in amazement. "You are the singularly most incredible, thoughtful man in existence. How'd I ever get so lucky?"

Harry just grinned boyishly, giving her a wink as the limo pulled away from the curb. "You deserve all of this and more, darling. Tonight is just a start."

The rest of the evening passed in a blissful whirlwind. Y/N and Harry sipped gourmet cocktails as candles flickered between them at the restaurant. Their heated looks and brushing footsies beneath the table made the anticipation crackle deliciously. 

After the stunning five-star cuisine, Harry surprised Y/N again by hiring a violinist at the opera to serenade them privately in the vip loge while the show played out on stage. He held her close as they swayed to the rich, emotive music, looking into each other's eyes adoringly.

By the time they arrived back home in the limo, Y/N could barely keep her hands off her romantic prince of a boyfriend. She attacked his mouth hungrily as he lifted her into his arms, stumbling inside as they continued to devour each other.

That night was a blur of frantic lovemaking, tearing at clothes and tangling in the bed sheets as release was desperately chased between them. Y/N had never felt so thoroughly worshiped and cherished as when Harry was passionately laying claim to every inch of her body, branding her as his own with his scorching caresses.

"You're everything, Y/N," he groaned into the slick skin of her neck as she writhed beneath him. "My whole bloody universe, all the stars in the sky. Nothing means more to me than you, my perfect girl."

After, when the frenzied haze cleared, Harry held Y/N with indescribable tenderness like she was the most precious thing in existence. Which to him, she absolutely was. Her hands stroked through his sweat-dampened chestnut locks as he pressed fervent kisses to her collarbones, her sternum, everywhere his full lips could reach.

"How did I ever get so lucky?" he murmured, more to himself than her as he gazed up at Y/N reverently. "My entire world in these arms."

Y/N had no words, rendered speechless by the depth of love emanating from her man's bright green eyes. So she simply held him closer, letting her touch express everything her heart was too overwhelmed to put into phrases.

Of course, there were still hints of Harry's internal struggles with fame and the immense pressures of his career. The more Y/N got to know him intimately, the more she saw the tightly-wound tension that still crept into his muscles and posture frequently.

It killed her to see Harry in pain or overwhelmed, dealing silently with the weight of Hollywood's demands. So she made it her mission to take care of him, just like when she was his masseuse but in more intimate ways now.

After an especially grueling day of meetings and recording sessions, Y/N would draw Harry a hot bath infused with relaxing essential oils. She would gently undress him, unable to resist pressing soothing kisses along the protesting knots in his shoulders and back. Harry would let out deep rumbles of pleasure at her therapeutic touch.

One draining evening after he had done promo interviews all day followed by a high-energy concert, Harry came home to their penthouse utterly spent. His eyes were rimmed with exhaustion and his mouth was drawn into a tight line, shoulders hunched under the weight of his weariness.

Taking one look at her love in such a depleted state tore at Y/N's heartstrings. She quickly sprang into action, knowing just what he needed to recharge and find his center again.

"Go have a long, hot shower, babe," she murmured, pressing a tender kiss to Harry's furrowed brow. "I'll take care of everything else."

While Harry dragged himself to the bathroom, Y/N set about creating the perfect soothing atmosphere in their bedroom. She dimmed the lights to a warm golden glow and lit a few spicy aromatherapy candles. Then she pulled out her professional massage table and arranged it with all her favorite oils and lotions.

By the time Harry emerged from the steamy bathroom wearing nothing but a plush robe, Y/N had the space utterly transformed into a private spa oasis. Soft nature soundscapes played lightly in the background, blending with the flicker of candlelight to create an ambiance of pure tranquility.

Harry's brow unfurrowed slightly as he took in the scene, a small smile playing at his lips. "You're too good to me, darling," he rumbled in that gruff, sleepy tone Y/N adored.

"Mmm, not possible," Y/N assured with a soft smile, helping Harry shrug off his robe so he could climb onto the table completely nude. 

She warmed up some of the aromatic sandalwood oil between her palms before beginning her sensual ministrations along the perfect terrain of Harry's back and shoulders. His tight muscles instantly began loosening under her skilled touch.

Harry let out a deep, relieved groan as Y/N's strong hands found each knotted snarl and gently worked them loose. He practically melted into the table, boneless and pliant beneath her.

"S'why I love you so much," he slurred, the profound tension seeping from his body. "Always know just how to take care of me, dove."

Y/N hummed in contentment, leaning down to press a line of soothing kisses along the dips of Harry's spine. Between her mouth and her fingers spreading hot oil into every bunched muscle group, he was soon utterly liquid and relaxed. 

This went on for almost two blissful hours, Y/N taking her time to reverently cover every last inch of Harry's body in her healing touch. At one point she gently turned him over to tend to his chest, abdomen, and the handful of other areas he accumulated strain.

By the time she was finished, Harry was borderline unconscious - eyes hooded, face perfectly lax, breaths coming in deep and even pulls. Y/N trailed one last stroke down the miles of inked and toned skin he had exposed to her. Her beautiful boy, wholly at peace once more.

Pressing tender kisses to each of Harry's closed eyelids, Y/N carefully covered him with a plush duvet before slipping out of the bedroom. As much as she would love to stay and watch over him, she knew he needed to fully surrender to restorative sleep now.

Y/N headed to the kitchen, deciding to prepare one of Harry's favorite home cooked meals for when he woke feeling replenished and ravenous. As she moved around the space chopping vegetables and searing chicken, her mind couldn't help drifting to thoughts of the wonderful man in the other room.

She felt so unutterably lucky to be the one person in Harry's life allowed to take care of his weary body and soul in such an intimate way. All the fame, fortune, and success in the world was meaningless to Y/N, compared to earning his unwavering trust and being able to soothe away his struggles whenever they arose.

When Harry finally padded into the kitchen a couple hours later, he looked noticeably refreshed and at peace. There was a soft, dazed expression playing on his features as his bright eyes landed on Y/N in an oversized shirt cooking away.

"There she is," he rasped in that deep, gorgeously gravelly morning voice of his. "Most beautiful sight in the world."

Y/N grinned, warmth blossoming in her chest at the open adoration on Harry's face. Even after going through a draining day, he still couldn't help being an outrageous charmer with her.

"Did you get enough beauty sleep, love?" she teased lightly, moving across the room to wind her arms around his trim waist.

Harry hummed in contentment, ducking his head to nuzzle into the crook of her neck. He inhaled her familiar honeysuckle scent deeply, as if letting the aroma soothe his very soul.

"More than enough. I feel reborn, all thanks to you taking such incredible care of me as always." One of his large hands trailed up and down her back. "You spoil me rotten, darling."

"And you love every second of it," Y/N murmured with a soft laugh, tilting her chin up to search his sparkling green gaze.

The tender look Harry returned her with stole her breath away, like it still did even after all this time together. His calloused thumb traced the line of her cheekbone reverently.

"How could I not?" His low rumble sent tingles down her spine. "When you pour so much love and devotion into everything you do for me. Makes me fall deeper every damn day, dove."

As their mouths slanted together in a searing, drugging kiss, Y/N couldn't dream of a response. Because there were truly no words sufficient enough to capture the cosmic love between them in that moment.

Of course, their intimate times weren't always just about relaxation either. Y/N's massages frequently led to much more heated activities once Harry was completely de-stressed, his desire for her building as she worked her magic on his body.

Harry loved nothing more than to suddenly flip their positions, pinning Y/N to the bed and attacking her neck and collarbone with hot, hungry kisses. His hands would grip her curves possessively as she writhed beneath him.

"You've woken the beast, darling," he would growl in her ear, making her shiver with delicious anticipation. "Now you'll have to tame him."

Their lovemaking was always passionate and intense, the depth of their connection shining through in how perfectly in-sync their bodies were. Y/N never felt more beautiful, powerful, and utterly cherished than when Harry was worshiping every inch of her with his hands, lips, and tongue.

Sometimes their couplings started not from a massage, but simply from them stealing heated looks while going about their day. Like the time Y/N was baking in the kitchen, shaking her hips to the beat of the pop song playing while she rolled out pie dough, careless and free of the world around her.

She didn't notice Harry sidle up behind her until his strong arms wound around her waist, tugging her flush against his solid chest. His lips found the juncture of her neck and shoulder, sucking a blistering path up to the spot behind her ear that drove her crazy.

"Look at you," he rumbled in that gravelly morning tone of his as Y/N gasped and arched back into his sturdy frame. "Being all sexy and domestic, tempting a bloke with something fierce."

Y/N bit back a throaty moan as Harry's nimble fingers slid beneath her loose shirt, calloused palms blazing a path up her ribcage. "Harry, what-what are you doing?" she breathed, though she already knew the answer if the hardness pressing into her backside was any indication.

"Having a nibble of my favorite snack," he replied cheekily, punctuating his words with a sharp nip to her earlobe that made her inhale shakily, her heartbeat accelerating in her chest.

Before she could really process what was happening, Harry had easily turned Y/N in his arms and hoisted her up onto the wide kitchen counter. She reflexively wrapped her toned legs around his trim waist to anchor them together as he attacked her mouth in a desperate kiss.

His tongue plundered deep, tasting every crevice as Y/N clutched at the dense muscle of his biceps and back. One of his large hands cupped her jaw to angle her how he wanted while the other palmed her breast through the thin fabric, brushing a calloused thumb over the peaked nipple there.

Y/N whimpered into Harry's mouth, already spiraling from how quickly his talented hands and lips had her arousal spiking. He was single handedly unraveling her till she was putty in his hands, the only thought in her mind was what he was planning to do to her next..

Finally, Harry broke the filthy clash of their mouths, panting harshly as he pinned Y/N with a look of pure hunger. His green eyes were near black with want, wandering possessively over her flushed state.

"You make me so bloody crazy, dove," he rasped in a low rumble that had her pulse kicking up another notch. "I can't keep my hands off you."

Y/N whimpered at the pure need saturating her boyfriend's deep tone. She squirmed deliciously against him, desperate for more friction.

"Then don't," she managed to gasp out through her daze of arousal. "Take what you want from me, Harry. I'm all yours."

The low, guttural groan Harry let out at her breathless plea, very nearly had Y/N coming undone right then. His smoldering gaze somehow burned even hotter with carnal intent.

Before she could process what was happening, Harry had ridden her of her shirt and shorts in two effortless tugs. His big palms instantly settled at the curves of her waist, thumbs dipping beneath the lace waistband of her underwear teasingly.

"Look at you...so gorgeous and flushed, ready and waiting for me," he praised in a low rasp, leaning in to drag his tongue up the slender column of her throat. "You have no idea what you do to me, do you baby?"

Y/N was too far gone in the spiral of her own pleasure to respond with anything more coherent than a choked-off whine that had him thickening in his pants. She writhed against Harry's solid frame, silently pleading for him to end her torment.

Seeming to take the hint, Harry ducked his head to mouth along the swell of her breasts and sternum, layering nips and sucking kisses until her skin was covered with marks of his devotion. Y/N arched her back hair sticking to her rapidly dampening skin as breathy moans tumbled from her parted lips.

"So responsive for me, dove," Harry grunted in approval, his big hands sliding around to shamelessly cup and squeeze her backside. "So perfect at taking everything I give you."

With one swift movement, he tugged her skimpy panties aside and plunged two ring clad fingertips through her dripping folds. Y/N cried out shamelessly at the long-awaited relief, her hips bucking forward uncontrollably to maximize the delicious stretch and burn.

"Christ, so wet and tight," Harry ground out, sounding utterly wrecked as he swirled his fingers around her throbbing entrance teasingly. "Made just for me, isn't that right lovely? Made to take my fingers, my tongue..."

His voice dropped to a sinful baritone as he slowly pumped his thick digits in and out of her fluttering, slick heat. Y/N let out a shrill whine of complete surrender, eyes rolling back as she fully gave herself over to the glorious sensations sparking along every nerve-ending.

"Made to take every hard inch of my cock, pushing deep inside this perfect little cunt," Harry continued in that gravelly and raspy tone, leaning down to whisper the obscene words directly against her damp skin.

True to form, his skilled fingers had Y/N right on the edge of shattering with dizzying speed. Her thighs quivered with the coiled tension, inner walls fluttering madly around the deliciously intrusive stretch of his thick digits.

Just when she thought she couldn't take any more of the exquisite torment, when stars were bursting behind her eyelids, Harry abruptly curled his fingers upward in a devastating stroke against that magic spot inside her. Y/N's entire body convulsed as she broke into a thousand kaleidoscopic pieces, a strangled scream of pure euphoria ripping free from her throat.

By the time her vision finally began refocusing, her loose limbs were draped bonelessly over Harry's shoulders, her head spinning in dizzy bliss. She clearly registered the achingly slow push and pull of his fingers continuing to work through her fluttering, overstimulated cunt.

Harry's burning gaze was locked onto her sweat-slicked, flushed skin as he methodically wrung out every last spasm of ecstasy from her boneless frame. The soft, reverent look of awe on his handsome face stole what little breath Y/N had managed to recapture.

"Look at you, darling...absolutely wrecked for me," he husked "So stunning like this, falling apart on my fingers. All fo’ me"

Despite feeling completely satisfied, Y/N couldn't help but feel a rush of desire at Harry's words.  He always had been equal parts tender and filthy in his erotic praise and endearments.

Case in point, his next words as he slid his glistening fingers into his mouth to taste her essence were absolutely scorching.

"Clean that essence up for me like a good girl, dove...because I'm going to need you soaked and begging again in about five minutes."

Y/N let out a breathy moan at the promise in his words, knowing full well her legs were going to absolutely sore tonight, her knees wobbly and unable to walk by morning.

She nodded around the slick digits, swirling her tongue around the fullness of them as he sighed at the way she sucked his fingers.

“God, I wish it was m’ cock behind those pretty lips, dove” he pulled them out, placing his hand right over her naked thigh, “but I want it inside your pretty pussy for now”

She nodded, too awestruck to actua;ly process her mind to his words.He shook her head at her, pulling down the pants he had put on earlier.

“Got me so hard. Could’ve burst from listening to you being so filthy for me”

Her cheeks flushed at his risque words, thighs pushing together as his cock sprang free, the angry, red tip throbbing as he took himself into his palm, stroking his length to relieve some of the tension.

She pushed her thighs above each other, feeling utterly flustered and dizzy. He was gong to fuck her, and memories of all the times he had, flooding her mind like ocean water.

Finally, he let go of himself, parting her thighs and slotting himself in between. She let out a broken gasp, mouth going dry as she took a look at her own desperation, red and swollen, yet, so needy and wet.

“Could never get enough of you” he said into her mouth, swallowing her gasp as his cock stretched her open deliciously. A broken moan made its way past her lips, her quivering legs wrapping around him as he slid himself inside her. Her wetness swallowed him up, her pussy gushing with arousal as he angled her hips higher.

“Good, fucking–so damn tight for me” eh cursed, her mouth parting open into another broken sob as he thrust in and out of her, her wet walls taking him in so well. He felt so heavenly, his cock buried inside his pretty, so pretty and perfect girl.

“How did I stay so long without you? Hm?” he asked rhetorically, and she opened her closed eyes. His hand reached between her parted legs, his skilled digits teasing her clit, while his practised strokes made her fall apart under him.

“Oh fuck, yeah–right there” she begged him to keep fucking her, his cock hitting the deepest of spots inside her. It had her mind going numb, her toes curling as he fucked her with delirious intent.

“Pussy’s so good–:” he praised her once again, his fingers finally landing on her clit, a sharp spank that made her cum right then and there.

She arched her back, her head falling back till it touched the counter. She grabbed her nipples, pinching them as he rubbed circles over her clit, his cock fucking her at a pace that had her screaming and begging for more.

“Oh fuck, Harr–Harry, oh my fucking god”

He grabbed her hips, laying her down flat as she choked on another sob, her wetness gushing out and wetting the cold marble counter. Harry was grinning and smirking, watching her fall apart beneath him. He was the only one who could make her mind go absolutely detached, the only thought in her mind being of him. His name. His cock. His hands. The way they made her feel.

“Her orgasm prolonged as he kept her on the edge, her pussy short circuiting is the overstimulation kicked in. She was sore, two orgasms after a day of work would do that to her.

“Harry–” she pouted, her hands reaching out for his, to which he immediately complied, intertwining their fingers.

“Just a little longer, Almost done”

He promised, and began fucking her at the vicious pace again. The room echoed with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, her hips bruised as he sucked a breath in, teetering on the edge of sweet, sweet release.

He came inside her that day, his cock leaking inside her warm, warm cunt till he was fully spent and empty, her cunt full of his load as he stayed inside a little longer, relishing in the way she fluttered around him, squeezing and milking his cock for all he had.

He kissed her knuckles, murmuring sweet words of love as they lay on the counter for a while, her bake affair long forgotten, since she had already gotten a taste of something much sweeter.

***

The next morning, as Y/N was featherlight kissing her way down Harry's chiseled torso with the intent of rousing him for another sensual round, her lips brushed against something unfamiliar on his skin. Frowning, she pushed back the bedsheets to get a better look.

There, etched in thick black ink just above Harry's hipbone, was a new tattoo she had never noticed before. It was a series of numbers, almost like...coordinates?

Y/N felt her breath catch as she recognized the distinctly precise numerical patterning. She had taken enough coding classes to spot geographic coordinates when she saw them.

"Harry..." she gulped, tracing the new ink with a trembling fingertip. "What is this? Why do you have map coordinates tattooed on your body?"

The sleepy, blissed-out expression on Harry's face instantly shuttered closed as soon as the words left Y/N's lips. He seemed to almost freeze for a moment, grimacing ever-so-slightly as he struggled to keep his expression neutral.

"It's...nothing to concern yourself with, darling," he finally replied in a tone that was just a bit too overly-casual. "Just a drunken mistake from a mate's stag night a few weeks back. Doesn't mean anything, I swear."

But Y/N knew her boyfriend too well to be convinced by his nonchalant dismissal. She searched his bright green eyes, unable to shake the feeling that there was much more to this strange new tattoo than he was letting on.

What secrets could Harry possibly be keeping from her? And just where exactly would those map coordinates lead if she dared to follow them?

The delicious haze of their previous intimacy was shattered, replaced by a gnawing sense that Y/N was missing out on some important truth about her boyfriend's life. And she knew their relationship could never regain that blissful closeness until she uncovered what Harry was hiding...

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! i want to do a part 2, but this one's long, so we'll see! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)

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[gurugirl]

ex-boyfriend's dad!harry part 1

Summary: After you break up with your boyfriend, his dad, Harry, stops by your apartment to drop off a few of your things. But that's not all he's there to bring you.

A/N: This full series is already live on Patreon, with all 4 parts up! Part 2 will be posted here in one week.

Word Count: 8.17k

Series Warnings: explicit content, smut (including anal, rough blow jobs), age gap, angst, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, choking, slight degradation, use of small implements (collar and leash, anal plug)

Part 1 Warnings: angst, slight inappropriate moment between you & Harry at the beginning featuring skinny dipping and subtle flirting

Ex-boyfriend's Dad masterlist

. . .

You didn’t know what had gotten into you. Skinny dipping in the pool at midnight under the stars. Well, you did know, actually. Two bottles of Italian red wine. That and your boyfriend’s dad, Harry, encouraging you. You were both at least two bottles in.

You’d been dating Tyler for nearly two years, and so Harry told Tyler to invite you to come along to their yearly vacation in Lombardy, Italy. The Style’s family owned a small villa in the hills and Harry made it a point to take a couple of weeks there every year.

So you were honored and more than excited when he invited you. Of course, you weren’t going to miss it.

And now you’d been in Lombardy for 5 days and Tyler went to bed a little early on this particular evening while you and his dad stayed outside on the patio overlooking the lighted pool drinking bottles of wine and talking about relationship things that may or may not have ebbed into very slightly inappropriate territory. But you’d think about all that later on.

Because here you were swimming buck naked with your boyfriend’s very handsome dad. You didn’t peek (not really) when he dove in with a big, dimpled smile after you slid in quickly with a squeal and he laughed with his back turned and a promise he wouldn’t look.

Because here you were taking another pour of wine with him and clinking glasses while you laughed. Wearing nothing. With your boyfriend’s very very handsome dad.

Of course, it was difficult to see fully what was going on under the reflection of the water. But you did notice a few things about Harry. About your boyfriend’s dad. One was that he had way more tattoos than you originally realized. You knew he had tattoos on his arms and you’d seen peeks on his chest before. But with him completely naked you saw a lot more. And you could tell he had a tattoo on his left thigh – something large. There were also tattoos on his hips, both sides. But more than that, you couldn’t help to notice the dark patch at his crotch and the floating thing attached to said dark patch, which you were sure was his dick. Obviously.

But you didn’t stare too hard. Well, you tried not to look anyway.

You tried keeping your tits under the surface of the water as well but every time you bounced to get toward the edge of the pool they did make an appearance. You crossed your arm over your nipples as you reached for your glass and Harry laughed.

“I’m not looking. I swear!” He raised his arms and grinned.

“I mean it’s just in case,” you giggled before you took a big gulp from your glass.

Harry was swimming toward the far end of the pool away from you, his back muscles flexing with each stroke. The lights in the pool were illuminating every one of his movements, and yours too, you were sure, as you placed the glass down and plunged under the surface of the water to swim toward him.

It felt so freeing and light to swim naked. You’d never done it before and when Harry suggested it as a sort of dare you told him how you always wanted to and that’s how this all happened. You didn’t regret it even though you were sure Tyler wouldn’t appreciate it. But you were having fun.

Suddenly you felt Harry’s hand on your ankle as he pulled at you, causing you to twist under the water. You reached toward his hand just as he let go and then pushed your head out of the water with a gasp, “Hey!”

Harry laughed. He was already swimming toward the other side of the pool, away from you, “What? What happened?” He stopped and turned toward you, a look of faux concern on his face.

“What do you mean what?!” You pushed yourself off the wall to swim toward him, “You grabbed me!”

Harry watched you dog paddle toward him with a big smile on your pretty face. He was just trying to make you laugh. Liked hearing it. Liked seeing you smile. Because he had noticed how you weren’t quite as carefree around Tyler lately. He noticed how your demeanor had changed from what he used to know of you, and he’d even overheard an argument you and his son had just the night before. He was worried that you and Tyler were drifting apart. Though it wasn’t his business at all, he figured the least he could do was to make you smile. This was your vacation too.

“Nope. I’m over here,” he laughed, “Couldn’t have grabbed you. Must have been like one of those pool monsters or something.”

You laughed loudly, the sound bouncing off the water and the trees all around. Harry smiled widely.

“You’re so cheesy, Harry,” you splashed water at him and clung to the edge of the pool.

Harry swam next to you and put his arm on the edge of the pool facing you, “Cheesy? How so?”

He was a bit close to you. Not that you minded. You trusted him but you didn’t trust yourself not to let your eyes wander. His chest was delectable and the muscles on his arms with his tattoos… his jawline.

You cleared your throat before smiling, “Pool monster?”

Harry laughed and nodded, “Yes. Pool monster. There’s one that lives in this pool. Did you not know?”

You shook your head, “That’s what I mean. Cheesy. Such a dad thing to say even to a grown woman.”

“Oh you’re a grown woman are you?” Harry blew out a laugh through his nose as he kept his lagoon-green eyes on yours.

You splashed at him again but then Harry retaliated with a massive spray of water back in your direction. You had no idea how he did it, but it was like a bucket of water was thrown at you.

Gasping you let go of the edge of the pool and flailed in the water coughing. It was dramatic but you’d swallowed a big gulp of pool water and sucked in some through your nose.

You heard Harry laughing and then felt his hand on your sides to lead you toward the side of the pool, “Take it easy. Here, back to the edge. You okay?”

You put your arms over the side and coughed, momentarily forgetting your tits were out and about for anyone to see. For Harry to see.

Harry patted your back and then as you calmed you felt his palm smoothing up and down your spine, “Sorry, Y/n. Didn’t know you’d open your mouth up and take a gulp like that,” he laughed softly.

You smushed yourself to the edge and took a breath before looking at him, “You’re trying to drown me,” you chuckled.

He didn’t mean to look. He told himself to keep his eyes on your face but you were half out of the pool, your breasts pressed into the tiles and when his eyes lowered you saw it clear as day. But maybe a small part of you liked it. He quickly moved his gaze elsewhere and you smiled as you lowered yourself back under the surface.

“Really wasn’t. Just figured you’d be ready for splash retribution. You have to keep your guard up, Y/n. Rule number one of pool play,” he laughed and then finally looked back at you. Into your eyes this time.

“I’ll remember that from now on,” you grinned and then with all you had, cupped your hands and splashed him directly in his face before you swam away laughing as he thrashed in his spot.

You heard him let out a short cackle before you heard the water moving under him. He was swimming toward you quickly. And Harry was a much better swimmer than you so in only seconds he was grabbing your arm and then pulling at you to lift and fling you forward, all your bits out for him to see before you landed in the water with a splatter and a plop.

His laughter was contagious. You turned to him with your mouth dropped open in surprise but couldn’t help but giggle.

“Sorry, Y/n! Fuck…” he shook his head and smoothed his wet hair back, “Forgot we’re in our birthday suits,” he pulled his lips into his mouth, his elbow at the edge of the pool. You followed and hung on to the edge for a reprieve from needing to kick your feet and flap your arms for a moment.

“I guess that’s just part of pool play,” you laughed. Harry nodded, his dimples casting shadows into his cheeks.

You both took a sip from your glasses.

“You and Tyler had an argument last night,” Harry suddenly spoke what was on his mind, “Couldn’t help overhear it. Didn’t mean to but…” he shrugged.

You nodded before placing your glass along the tiles next to the pool, “Right. I mean, I know we were loud. We’ve been arguing a bit more lately. Sorry about that.”

“What’s wrong? Anything I can help with? Hate to know you two are having any problems.”

You smiled at him, “No. Nothing you can help with. We just sometimes don’t see eye to eye on certain things.”

Harry sat his wine glass down next to yours, “Like what?”

“Harry, I don’t know… it’s not something I think Tyler would want me to tell anyone.”

He laughed and began to backstroke away from you and then turned and swam back, “So don’t tell him you told me,” he licked his lips and you watched as his deep pink rose-colored lips quirked up.

You raised your brows and grinned back, “You can’t say anything. Swear to me,” you pointed.

Harry moved in closer, his eyes on you, “Of course, Y/n. I would never say anything.”

You believed him. Maybe it was because he had always given you the vibe that he was a good person to tell secrets to. Or maybe it was two bottles of wine making you more likely to gab.

“He… well he’s not super adventurous in bed,” you bit your lip and looked down at the water, of course noticing the fleshy bit swaying between his legs had you averting your eyes quickly to the edge of the pool.

“Oh?” Harry hadn’t expected you to say that. “Tell me more. Why did this turn into an argument?” He put his elbows on the edge of the pool as you moved to pick up your glass.

“Like…” you glanced at him and laughed as you shook your head, “I’m not gonna tell you everything but for example,” you placed your elbows over the edge, mimicking Harry, “I… you know, enjoy giving him blowjobs. But… he doesn’t want to like,” you looked down at the tile and laughed, “Oh my god I can’t believe I’m about to say this… he doesn’t want to thrust into my throat because he thinks it’ll hurt me.” You placed your face into your hands and chuckled.

You turned to look at Harry slowly only to find a soft grin on his face, “And? Why did this turn into an argument?”

Swallowing down your saliva you decided to just drop the bigger bomb because none of it made sense without that big detail and, well, you were two bottles of red deep so why the hell not?

“He never returns the favor,” you watched his eyes widen.

“What? He doesn’t? Like ever? Ever?” The look of horror on his face was almost comical. But it definitely matched your own feelings about the whole thing.

You shook your head, “So, sometimes he does. But he’s only down there when I beg him and then it’s for two minutes tops and it’s awful. He hates doing it and it makes me feel awful about myself and he always reassures me but it’s so hard not to take personally because I am so excited to do it for him. I just don’t get why he doesn’t like it with me. And that just leads to us fighting."

Harry nodded, “Well I get why this would be an argument. And I can’t believe he doesn’t…” he shook his head, “I’m kind of surprised to hear this to be honest. Just,” he scratched his head and looked back toward the house where Tyler was probably fast asleep, “Don’t take it personally. I can guarantee it has nothing to do with you, Y/n.”

You took another sip of your wine and then pushed yourself off the wall to float back into the water, kicking your legs as you looked up at the sky, “But it’s okay I guess. Sex isn’t everything, right?”

Harry watched you float back toward the opposite side of the pool, “Right. That’s definitely true.” But while those words were true, Harry didn’t quite believe the deeper sentiment of it.

He swam toward you, taking two long side strokes, and dunked his head under the water. You lowered your legs to float upright when you felt the ripples just as he popped out in front of you, wet hair flopping over his forehead before he took his hand and ran it into his hair to push it back.

“We probably shouldn’t tell him that we did this,” you spoke as you watched Harry’s chest drip with water.

“Wasn’t planning on it. It’ll be our secret.”

That dimpled grin again made you grin in return.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” you laughed.

Harry lifted his arms from the water, “What? You said you’d never done it and that you wanted to?” He laughed.

“I did. It’s actually really fun.”

“Isn’t it?”

You nodded and glanced at the house and back to Harry. The quiet was making you feel something. Not quite nervous, but definitely something that had your skin rising with goosebumps, and your heart rate increasing. It could have been Harry’s eyes on you. The warmth you felt on your spine when you thought about how you two were both naked and that he’d most definitely seen your breasts when he flung you out of the water. His hands pinched into your thighs as he pushed you upward, which meant he probably had also seen your bottom, perhaps more.

But somehow he didn’t make you feel like you should be ashamed or embarrassed. It was quite refreshing to be around Harry. Even if you were nude and it was probably inappropriate to be doing such a thing with the father of the man you were intimately involved with. Even still, with Harry, it felt honest and natural.

“Harry, this might be one of the best nights I’ve ever had. Seriously. Thank you for having Ty invite me. This feels really special to be here in Lombardy.”

“I’m glad you could come. Honestly, I love Tyler but he’s not nearly as much fun as you.”

You chuckled softly as you looked up at the dark sky, clinging to the edge of the pool. When you kicked, your leg slid against Harry’s. You could feel the solid warmth of his shin and the virile hair that tickled your skin.

“Oh. Believe me. I know I’m way more fun than he is,” you spoke the words as a joke but both you and Harry knew that you were saying something a bit bawdy regarding Tyler’s prudishness.

You gazed at the night sky, the stars bright and flickering in and out of existence before your eyes. Every now and then Harry’s leg would bump against yours but you liked it. Neither of you would do anything to stop the subtle and innocent brushes of skin.

“Isn’t it wild how right now, as we’re looking up at the stars that some of them are already burned out, while others are coming to life and being born right before our eyes? But they’re light years away so we have no idea of the magic that’s taking place.” You spoke quietly.

You could see in your peripheral that Harry had turned his head to look at you, “We’re just at the mercy of the universe, Y/n. Me, you, and everyone else here. It’s beautiful and exciting, isn’t it?”

You smiled, keeping your gaze upward, “I love that. Just as the mercy of the universe,” you turned to look at him as your leg floated against his, “It’s beautiful.”

. . .

“So then you are cheating on me!”

You shook your head and pinched the bridge of your nose. Tyler was always jealous. Always worried you were cheating on him somehow. He didn’t trust you. And that made you not trust him.

“This is a great example of why I’m breaking up with you. You always accuse me of cheating on you, yet… I have never and would never! It’s such an insult! You just don’t get it, Ty!”

He put his hands on his hips and laughed coldly as he paced around you, “Something is up. I don’t buy that you just suddenly want to dump me. We’ve been together for almost two years. Why now if it’s not because of someone else?”

Rolling your eyes you crossed your arms over your chest, “Something is up! But it’s not because I’ve been cheating. Fucking Christ you’re insecure.” You sat down on the couch in your two-bedroom apartment. You were glad your roommate was not there. “You and I just… we’re not good together I don’t think. At first, it was good, Ty… So good. But… when I opened up to you and told you what I like, what I wanted to try… you made me feel like a cheap slut. Like my request was unreasonable and how you said you would never look at me the same again… and I don’t know,” you put your head in your hands and looked down at your knees, “You’re not willing to meet me in the middle at all and I just think that it’s a deal breaker.”

“A dealbreaker because I won’t spank you like you want to be spanked? It’s so weird, Y/n! How can I feel good about hitting you?”

“Yes, actually it is a dealbreaker. Because you don’t have to beat me. Just spank me with an open palm.  And not only that, you don’t like going down on me, yet I give you half-hour-long blow jobs and I fucking love it. Why don’t you reciprocate?” You shook your head and held your hand up, “Never mind. It doesn’t matter why you don’t, it’s over. This is over.”

“You’re shallow. You always have been. You were just with me because I have money and could buy you whatever you wanted. And I did. But now you’re done and on to the next thing. I know you, Y/n. You forget.” He stepped toward you as he pointed his thumb at his chest, “I put up with it for so long because I actually loved you. And I still do. I could overlook it all. Everything you’ve done I’d just forgive you because I love you. Knowing you would break up with me for this just proves to me you’re lying. Just remember that,” he pointed at you with his brows raised in warning, “That I loved you despite the fact that you lied to me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. His stupid words made you lose it. You leaned forward and your body shook from how hard you’d begun to laugh until you cackled in loud guffaws like an idiot. Tears poured from your eyes as you tried to stand up and compose yourself but you couldn’t stop the scene you were making. It was one of those fits of laughter that make it look like you’re crying because your face was scrunched up and big wet tears were pouring from your eyes. And you tried to stop but it was so hard to calm yourself that you only got even more wound up trying to stop and the whole thing started all over again.

Yeah. That’s what was going on when you broke up with Tyler Styles. Your boyfriend of almost 2 years. You were laughing uncontrollably after his usual bullshit spiel had pushed you over the edge. And you knew he believed his own bullshit and that just made it even funnier.

You loved him. From the beginning he was amazing. You two really got along well but then you started having sex regularly and things changed fast. When you two first started having sex it was infrequent due to your distance (you were away at a college in a different state) so when you could have sex it was wild and hot and it didn’t matter what sort of preferences either of you had. You didn’t care. You were getting to have sex. Good sex. And that’s all that mattered.

But then you moved back into your hometown to finish off the last year of college at home and you had access to Tyler every day. Then you got an apartment with a roommate and Tyler began staying with you and you two were going at it a lot more.

It was great. Until it wasn’t.

You also realized, during that year of being with him every single day, that he was insecure and manipulative. And that wound up turning into very insecure and manipulative after you told him you wanted to be choked a little. Wanted to be spanked. Wanted him to spit on you and in your mouth. Wanted him to rail you. Wanted to try anal.

You thought if you told him what you wanted things would get better in bed because, in all honesty, he wasn’t doing it for you anymore. Not that you didn’t love him and enjoy him. But he hardly ever ate you out, and you got bored of that same old thing. He didn’t seem to mind. He got to nut in you and roll over and go to sleep. Like you were an old married couple.

And that just wasn’t going to cut it for you. You were too young to have underwhelming sex with a guy who thought less of you for liking the things you did. You just weren’t compatible anymore.

But what was worse? The way he didn’t trust you. The way he tried to make something that was his fault into your fault. The way he’d talk in circles and would never own up to his mistakes and point out what he felt you’d done wrong.

And of course, there were the questionable texts you found between him and your friend Yola just a few months before.

That was not your finest moment. You were tired of him accusing you of cheating or acting suspicious of you every time you went out with the girls and so you wondered if he was cheating on you. And the moment you and access to his phone after he drank himself into oblivion one night you went through it. You always swore you would never be one of those women to go through their boyfriend’s phone. But you were in the end. And while the texts between the two of them weren’t all that bad, you still had your guard up.

So you paid close attention to him and how he acted when she was around. You started checking his phone regularly. Started looking through his comment history on Reddit. Perusing his likes on Instagram.

You became what you never wanted. In the end, you never found anything incriminating. Which was a relief, of course, but even if he wasn’t cheating there was no more love there. You were done.

“What the fuck is so funny?”

Still laughing, you wiped your tears and stumbled dramatically, holding onto the wall between your couch and the front door. You’d just about had enough of him. “You–“ you hiccupped a laugh and wheezed as you bent forward to calm down. Sticking a finger up to indicate you needed a minute you shook your head and finally stood upright to look at him in the eyes, your breaths and bursts of giggles slowing, “You are so full of shit. Did you just hear yourself? I can’t handle the way you always minimize your own issues. Just…” you pointed at the door, “Leave. Okay? This is over.”

. . .

“She laughed in my face when I told her I loved her and that I would forgive her for cheating,” Tyler went home and cried to his dad about you breaking up with him.

“She was cheating on you?” Harry raised his brow at Tyler who was slumped pathetically on the couch.

“Probably. I think so because she’s been interested in doing things in bed and I can’t figure out why. It’s gross.”

Harry sat down and draped his ankle over his knee, “What’s gross? I’m confused about what happened?”

“She’s a bitch. She was using me–“

“Whoa, hold on there. Watch how you talk about her. You were with her for almost 2 years. Don’t say that about Y/n.”

Tyler sat up straight and looked at his dad, “But her reasons for breaking up with me are so shallow. I’m not pleasing her in bed? Because I won’t choke her or spit in her mouth? It’s like she turned into a different person. I think she must have been seeing someone else because she broke up with me over it.”

Harry nodded wondering what could be so bad about any of that. But of course, he enjoyed a little bit of rough sex himself. He was surprised Tyler seemed so put off by it. But after learning what you had told him that night in Lombardy, he figured this shouldn’t be too big of a surprise.

His son didn’t even like to eat pussy. If Tyler didn’t look almost exactly like him, he’d wonder if this was even his son. Because Harry liked all kinds of kinky shit in bed.

“So she wanted to try some kinkier things with you. Did you try any of it with her?”

“You don’t even know the half of it, Dad,” Tyler shook his head, “Anal sex too. I mean… what woman wants that? I don’t know. Maybe she was addicted to porn or something.”

Harry swallowed thickly and looked toward the window for a moment in thought as his back heated up at that comment. Anal sex. He tried not to imagine you in that way but it was hard. He’d already gone down that tricky little road in his imagination after that night you both skinny-dipped together. He’d seen you completely naked. He hadn’t meant to look but when he grabbed you by the back of your thighs and pushed you out of the pool he slid his hand up to your bottom and your legs spread as you landed into the water and he saw it all. He’d lost his damn mind when he did it. It was like he was playing with a lover there for a moment and he’d forgotten you were his son’s girlfriend. Well, now ex.

“You didn’t answer my question. Did you try exploring with her at all? See what you might like?”

He shook his head, “I’m not going to choke and spit on someone I love. And anal?” He said the word as if it were disgusting, “It’s so weird. I don’t know what happened to her. She used to be so sweet.”

“I see. So it sounds like you two were no longer sexually compatible anymore and you’re just assuming she’s been cheating.”

“Are you taking her side on this? She broke my heart, Dad. We used to be so good together. It was perfect and then suddenly she just wants me to hit her and be rough with her? It doesn’t add up.”

Harry sighed and shook his head as he leaned his back into the couch cushion. He and Tyler had always been able to talk about anything and everything, which he was proud of. But he wondered if Tyler really saw the bigger picture about you and how important it was to be with someone you’re compatible with. Harry wasn’t going to tell his son what happened that night. The things you’d told him in confidence. And between what his son was telling him now and what you had told him before, he could tell Tyler wasn’t telling the whole story.

“Look. I know you’re upset and hurt but from what you’re telling me it doesn’t sound like you actually know if she was cheating or not. Right?”

“But what else explains her breaking up with me?”

“Tyler, for some people, it’s really important to be sexually compatible with your partner. That can be enough to end a relationship. When someone isn’t satisfied in bed anymore, it might lead to other issues as well.”

“But she used to be satisfied. Something changed. I just don’t know what.”

Harry really wanted to be supportive of his son. But the way he brushed off his lack of effort to make you happy did concern him. It felt like Tyler didn’t think he’d done anything wrong. And it seemed to make sense based on what he knew. Based on what you told him.

He thought back to that night with you in Italy.

He draped the towel over your shoulders as you crossed your arms to cover your chest, “You know I would understand if you felt that was enough to break up with Tyler over. Things like that can slowly erode a relationship from the inside out.”

When you’d clutched the towel safely in front of yourself you turned and shook your head, “It wouldn’t be just for things like that. He’s also really insecure. Always thinks I’m doing something I shouldn’t. He’s even accused me of cheating on him,” you rolled your eyes.

Harry already had his own towel wrapped around his waist, his bottom half fully covered from view, “Well that’s definitely something. If you don’t mind me asking…, why are you still dating him?”

You both began to walk toward the house, clutching your clothes in your hands, “Because it feels like such a waste if we just end it after 2 years, you know? I just want to be able to make it work with him. But I don’t know how much more I can take. I love him… it’s just hard.”

He nodded and put his arm over your shoulder to bring you in for a quick side hug before you walked into the house, “Just do what’s right for you, Y/n.”

. . .

You slept like a baby that night. You weren’t sure if it was because you’d finally had the guts to end it with Tyler or because you wore yourself out laughing like a madwoman. Either way, you realized how easy it was to be without him. How good it felt to be done with him. Relief.

You thought about Harry and his words to you, just do what’s right for you. And this was right. He had given you good advice.

The last time you saw him was when you parted ways at the airport after spending two weeks in Lombardy with him. And while Tyler was there, you both fought the whole time. Tyler was more like an afterthought on that trip to you. After the big fight that Harry overheard, you didn’t even sleep in the same bed with him.  So you wound up spending a lot of time with Harry without Tyler around. It was fucking fantastic. Especially the night under the bright stars in that big pool telling each other secrets.

It was one of the best nights of your life. Harry was one of those men that were rare and truly kind and thoughtful. But he was handsome and charming as well. You’d always found Harry very attractive but you’d have never done anything with that attraction. Besides, you figured it was natural to find other people attractive. And not only that, the apple truly did not fall far from the tree in this case. Well, looks wise anyway.

Tyler was two inches taller than his father and a bit leaner, but he had the same brown wavy hair, green moony eyes, and raspberry-pink lips. Harry’s voice was deeper with more baritone but they did sound similar in some ways. Once you thought Tyler was talking to you until you heard him say your name, and then you knew it was Harry (you had your back turned). Harry said your name in a way that made your neck prickle with heat.

But as much as they looked alike physically, that’s basically where their similarities ended. Where Tyler was insecure, his dad was confident. Where Harry could laugh off a mistake, his son would explode and get red in the face and blame the nearest person for the problem even when it was something small. You could go on but it was useless to dwell on it. The truth was Tyler was nothing like Harry in the ways that mattered.

You didn’t want to think about Harry the way you had been. But it was hard not to. The way he handled himself and didn’t sweat the small things… how mature and understanding he was. How he didn’t get embarrassed easily and that allowed him to be more vulnerable and honest.

And all of that combined with his sturdy, masculine body and the more mature features on his face… Harry was indeed more physically attractive as well. Sure Tyler looked so much like him it was uncanny, but Tyler’s more youthful body and face were lacking something for you.

You’d never really been into older men. Harry was the exception to this. And you only allowed yourself to really see it on your Italian vacation with him.

You felt like you’d miss him more than Tyler. That was the only thing that really sucked about the breakup. Not seeing Harry again.

But it turned out, you would be seeing him again. Because two weeks later when you got a dm from Harry you were quite surprised. In fact, you’d just been thinking of him as you were settling into your bed. It was nearly midnight. It had become routine for you to think about him throughout your day. Especially at night. Maybe inappropriate but you were single and Harry Styles was very good fantasy material.

Hey. Hope you’re doing well. I have a box of your things and thought I could stop by tomorrow afternoon to drop it off if that’s good with you.

And you didn’t know exactly why you did it, why you suggested having him stop by on a night when your roommate was out of town instead, but you did. Maybe you were just feeling him out. Testing the waters so to speak.

You were certainly curious about what could happen if you and Harry were alone with no major consequences to hinder something from happening… you were both single and you had been severely neglected in bed. And something told you Harry would give you what you’d been seeking. That is if he were interested. It was a stretch to think he’d do anything. You were his son’s ex after all. It would be quite scandalous.

It was silly, you knew it was. But when he said he could come over at the newly arranged date and time, somehow it made you feel like you’d just set up your first date since breaking up with Tyler.

It wasn’t a date. No, you needed to get that silly notion out of your mind. Harry would be cordial and warm with you. You actually couldn’t imagine anything much happening in reality.

Yet here you were, an hour before he was due to arrive, making sure your skin was smooth and applying a pretty-smelling lotion all over your limbs. You’d even picked out an outfit. Something that wouldn’t make it look like you were trying too hard but that was just cute enough for him to hopefully notice. It was just a regular Thursday night after all. Well, it was supposed to be.

You could admit you were looking forward to seeing him again. Even if nothing came of it. Even if he just dropped off the box of your things and you handed him Tyler’s stuff and he hugged you and said goodbye… well. That would be okay. Disappointing but the more likely scenario.

When you heard the buzzer go off your heart rate picked up and you felt shaky as you ran to your front door to hit the button to let him inside the building. Your head was filled with images of what you’d imagined the night before but you pushed it down the best you could as you swallowed and took a deep breath.

None of that, Y/n.

The knock at your door came faster than you thought it would as you jumped and clutched your hand over your heart. You needed to chill. You needed to live in reality.

Unlocking your deadbolt, you took another breath in and slowly blew out to calm yourself and as you opened up the door you saw him. It’d been weeks. Just over a month since you’d seen him.

And he had a small box in one arm and a bottle of red wine in the other.

“Hi.” He looked handsome. His clothes were tidy and he looked fresh and clean and you could smell his cologne as you hugged him and then he followed you inside, “Hi. Thank you for switching the day for me,” you turned to him after closing the door, “How have you been?”

Harry looked around your living room and then back to you, those pretty green eyes taking you in making you feel that recognizable spine tingle. Your temperature began to rise without your permission.

“Good. Missed you coming around. Uh…” He held the box out to you, “Your things.”

You took the box with a small smile and then he lifted the bottle of wine by its neck, “And I brought this. Didn’t know if you had time to talk or anything but thought we could share a bottle and sit for a while. Only if you wanted.”

Yes. Yesyesyesyesyesyes… this was exactly what you wanted.

“Oh, that’s so nice of you. Of course, I’d love to sit and chat with you, Harry,” you grinned widely. There was nothing you could do to contain the broad smile that broke out over your mouth or the heat that rose to your neck, “I’ll just put this in my bedroom. Be right back!”

You quickly walked into your hallway, still smiling like an idiot, and then entered your bedroom and dropped the box to the floor. You squealed very quietly to yourself and stomped your feet lightly with fists balled up to get out the pent-up excitement, anxiety, and nerves you were feeling before pressing your palms down on your bed for a moment to relax. The grin on your face only got bigger.

“You okay?”

You shot up and turned to see Harry standing in the hallway outside of your room and your eyes widened. Had he seen your whole little display?

“Yeah! I’m fine.” You smiled.

“Sorry, I followed behind you to see if I could find the bathroom and noticed you were having some kind of fit.”

You pushed a quick laugh out of your mouth and felt your back and thighs scorch in embarrassment. He’d seen you. There was no way he wasn’t aware of what that was.

“Um… don’t worry. I’m okay,” your nerves were bubbling over, “The bathroom is the door at the end. The one that’s open.”

“Okay. I’ll be just a minute. Gotta drain the snake,” he grinned.

When he was out of sight you closed your eyes and shook your head. What an absolute dolt you were. But you did not miss the reference to his dick either. Maybe he was trying to feel you out as well.

In the kitchen, you uncorked the bottle and pulled two glasses down. You didn’t have proper wine glasses yet but figured he wouldn’t mind. Harry was not one to fuss about such things.

You placed the bottle and two glasses at your table and sat down just as he appeared and sat down in the chair next to you.

“How have you been, Y/n? With the breakup and everything?” He asked as he took the honor of pouring a glass for each of you.

You kept your eyes on the glasses as you spoke, “Good. Great even. I miss some things about him but it got too complicated at the end and I feel like I can breathe now.”

“That’s good to hear,” he laid his eyes on you as he handed a glass to you, “Cheers.”

You smiled and tapped your glass against his before taking a sip and then reaching for the bottle to see what kind of wine it was.

“Oh! Did you get this in Lombardy?”

Harry laughed, “Actually no. I bought it at the grocery store. They happened to have this wine there and thought it was fitting for the occasion.”

“Fitting for the occasion of you bringing me my ex’s things?” You puffed out a chuckle.

He nodded, “Yes actually. I mean just because you and my son aren’t seeing each other anymore, doesn’t mean I don’t still have good memories of you.”

You looked down at your glass and blinked. He was so nice. He always made you feel so cherished in some ways.

“Yeah. I guess that’s true,” you allowed yourself to set your gaze on his, “I feel the same really.”

Harry nodded, “He told me all about the breakup. That you told him you weren’t satisfied. I had to hold my tongue when he started talking about it. He doesn’t know I have inside information.”

You laughed, “Oh god. I did not go about the breakup in the best way. I wanted to tell him all the reasons I didn’t want to be with him but… I don’t know. There were just so many and I didn’t want to like, pile it all on him and hurt his feelings. I never got around to the bigger issues with his insecurity, the way he was manipulative at times,” you shook your head, “He made some speech about how he loved me despite my lies… and I can’t remember what he said but it was so phony that I couldn’t stop laughing. I broke down in laughter and I think I offended him.”

“Yeah, he told me you laughed in his face. I can only imagine what he might have said. He was pretty convinced you were in the wrong. Didn’t think he’d done anything to cause you to break it off with him.”

“I’m… I feel a lot better now that it’s over with him.”

“He said you suddenly wanted things in bed and you kind of alluded to wanting things he wasn’t willing to do before but was it sudden? Or is he just making that up?”

You shook your head, “I’ve always been into more adventurous things. Well, I mean since I was old enough to know what those things were. When we first got together we were long-distance so it didn’t matter as much but once I moved back here that’s when it got tricky. I tried to subtly initiate things but he wasn’t picking up on it. And then a few months of that I decided to just be straightforward and told him what I wanted. He flipped out and told me he’d never look at me the same.”

“Kind of figured it was more along those lines.”

“Yeah…” you tapped your fingers on the wood of the table and looked at him, “How about we talk about something else?”

Harry sniffed and turned his body toward yours, draping his arm over the back of the chair he was sitting in, “Good idea. I was just gonna suggest that,” he grinned and looked away from you as if to work up the nerve for what he was about to say before placing his eyes back on you, “So where’s your roommate?” His raised brows and the grin on his face felt like he knew something already.

“Oh. She’s visiting her parents for the weekend.” You swallowed thickly at the scrutiny of his eyes.

He nodded slowly, “I need to be honest with you,” he pulled his lips into his mouth and grinned before continuing, “I checked your Instagram and then found your roommate and noticed that she was away based on her posts. You didn’t happen to plan it like this on purpose did you?”

Your lips parted as you looked at his face in surprise. A thick blanket of embarrassment surrounded your body as you hesitated with an answer.

“And that little fit you had in your bedroom. Tell me what that was.”

You cringed and looked down at your lap. You’d been busted. There was no way out of this. Unless you lied to his face and you didn’t want that. Because he was asking you directly, which meant he had a reason for bringing it up.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I…” you shook your head and slowly dragged your gaze back up to his, “Yeah. I did plan it like this. Um… Thought it would be nice to see you without someone else here.”

He continued nodding, “And your little display? That was because you’re excited to see me?” He finished off the sentence with a grin which had you feeling at ease suddenly.

“Yeah,” your response was hardly a whisper as you smiled back at him.

His grin widened and he licked his lips, “Okay. I see. Well, let me tell you my thoughts because I want to be clear with you, Y/n.”

You nodded and angled your body to face him directly. Your heart was raging in your chest so wildly you were almost light-headed.

“I initiated coming over because I wanted to see you in person. To talk, to know how you are. I hoped you’d be just as excited as I am. And it appears that you are,” you watched his eyes drop to your outfit and wind down to the spread of your thighs over the chair you were starting to melt into.

“And since you wanted me here when no one else was around I think you wanted something to happen between us. Now, I hadn’t expected it really but I wouldn’t mind it going in that direction.”

You swallowed and felt every bit of your skin begin to overheat. You kept your eyes on him but you were unable to form a response.

“What is it you wanted to have happen tonight, Y/n? Hoped I’d show you something you had been missing out on? Do you want something from me?”

You flattened your palm on your thigh and averted your eyes to your glass of wine, “Yeah.”

The gentle touch of his finger at your jaw, nudging your face toward him made you inhale shallowly, “Keep your eyes on me, okay? You and I won’t be playing any games here. Understood? I’m gonna need you to be open with me. Tell me what you want.”

The way he was speaking to you and the soft touch of his hand had you almost convinced you were in some kind of sexy dream that you were about to wake up from any minute.

“I…” your voice was breathy, shaky, “I think… anything.” You worried at your lip between your teeth and hoped he’d take over for you. Hoped he’d answer the question for you.

He shifted his hand to thumb over your bottom lip and pulled at it, “Don’t do that. Gonna hurt yourself. Tell me what anything means, Y/n. I’m not a mind reader.”

You cleared your throat and looked to the edge of the room and he tiskd at you, “I said keep your eyes on me, love.”

“Sorry,” you turned your gaze back to his.

“You’re having a hard time coming up with an answer then? Want me to throw out some ideas you can say yes or no to?”

You nodded.

“Well, I’ll start off by naming something I think you’d like, something I’ve been dreaming about doing to you. Okay?”

You continued to nod.

Harry took your hand in his, pulling it to his lap, “I want to show you what it feels like to be eaten out by a man who enjoys it more than almost anything in the world. Would you like that?”

You let out a quiet moan and nodded, “Yeah.”

He nodded as he stood and pulled you up with him, “Let’s start there then.”

A/N: Hope you enjoyed part 1! I promise you that the smut will commence in part 2 (and be prepared, part 2 has approximately 9k words of smut out of 10.8k words total, so she's FILTHY)

PART 2

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#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #firstpost #harry edward styles #harrystyles #harry styles x yn #harry x reader #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles story #Harry styles fan fiction #older!harry #exbf dad!harry #ex-boyfriend’s dad!harry

[harstyle]

… I think I love you

Summary: you definitely like Harry, and he may like you, but your insecurities might be preventing you from ever finding out— featuring a friends-with-benefits situation, a heavy dose of self degradation (not the sexy kind) and miscommunication between both characters.

Pairing: normie!reader x famous!harry

Warnings: there’s a lot of crying

Word-count: around 3.2k

a/n: this idea came to me when I saw this couple at a party yesterday and she was sitting in his lap and he was peppering kisses along her neck and I just love love, so here we go (obviously it wouldn’t be fun without at least a little angst tho). I did write this in like an hour and I didn‘t edit, so go easy on me :).

Harry was being weird.

He was touching her all over, pulling her to sit in his lap and peppering kisses along the expanse of her neck, all while keeping his arms circled around her waist. He was resting his chin on her shoulder, staying mostly quiet even though he usually always had something to say. He was stroking her skin, touching wherever he could get through to her winter clothing. He was ignoring all of the strange looks he was receiving from his friends, lips molding into a slight smirk against her skin as they spoke politics and gossip at the table.

Y/N had a horrible feeling in her stomach. It was unusual for Harry to show so much affection around their friends— the two of them had just agreed that their friends didn’t need to see so much of their arrangement. It wasn’t like they were dating, or better yet, in love, so keeping it to themselves seemed like the sensible thing to do. Don’t get her wrong; their friends knew about it, but Y/N and Harry mostly kept the physical aspects in the bedroom for no one to see. He surely had never been so blatant about it.

Her heart was pounding. To be fair, her heart always did that when Harry was around. Y/N had had a crush on Harry since she’d met him years ago, but back then she hadn’t thought she’d have much of a chance with him. Y/N had heard of him dating supermodels, rich girls with a ‘perfect figure’ and scandalous backgrounds and had always kept the idea of a relationship with Harry Styles far far away in the name of self preservation.

But then he’d kissed her.

He’d been drunk when he’d done it, but Y/N hadn’t cared in the slightest. When morning came, Harry had explained that he wasn’t looking for a relationship and that while he thought Y/N was wonderful, he didn’t want anything serious with her.

She’d remembered those words and lived religiously by them.

Only ever calling him when she really needed him, allowing him to knock on her door whenever he felt like fucking her, being okay with acting in the role of little play toy even though she’d always liked him.

And it wasn’t like their arrangement wasn’t mutual— it had started out that way, but it was slowly eroding her mind— exhausting her until all she did some nights was cry.

And even though Harry’s touch felt wonderful, and his confident display of affection had initially warmed her heart, all she wanted to do right now was cry. Cry because she was realizing, through all of this, that something like this was all she’d ever wanted. With Harry, without Harry— she’d been needing something real, and this wasn’t real. This was all pretend, a silly arrangement between two incompatible friends; one famous bastard and one delusional office job girl, his handsome face and her insecure mind.

She couldn’t handle being with him sometimes. She would open the door of her apartment, let her eyes trail over his features and doubt that he wanted to be there with her. It seemed so farfetched that he would want to fuck her, that he’d want to touch her body and kiss away her fears. She almost felt disgusted by it, by his touch, knowing that he’d touched other, better women— and many of them.

She always made him turn the lights off.

So there was no doubt that he was drunk out of his mind right now. Because why else would inform their whole friend group— not just select friends, their whole group which consisted of some mere acquaintances, of their relationship. Situationship. Whatever it had blossomed into.

Harry’s hand was burning against her stomach and she couldn’t do it anymore. She excused herself quietly to the bathroom. Y/N knew Harry’s house like the back of her hand, so she found it rather easily and walked inside. She didn’t lock the door, just washed her hands. Over, and over, and over again. She washed away all of her horrible, degrading thoughts and tried to drown out the mean voices.

You are your own worst enemy.

The knock she heard on the door was loud, but it didn’t interrupt her train of thoughts. She kept her mind on his hands, his wonderful hands, on her disgusting skin. She wanted to wash away the pain.

She could see Harry out of her periphery. She went back to the soap dispenser.

“You okay?”

Her hands became rougher with it as his voice invaded on her privacy. Her eyes became glossy as she turned on the water again. There was no doubt in her mind that Harry was watching her every move, but she didn’t really care about that.

“Y/N, turn the water off.”

She did it almost instantaneously, like she’d been needing somebody other than herself to tell her to do it because her mind wasn’t strong enough to convince her of it on its own. Harry grabbed a towel, slowly drying her hands and massaging them until they were warm and dry again.

He was staring at her, but she didn’t care if she looked strange to him now. She was strange. She’d always felt like she was faking around Harry— like she needed to be a certain version of herself in order for him to like her, and so there was this wall of pretentiousness that came with being around him.

Sometimes she wasn’t perfect or sensible, sometimes she wanted to wash her hands like a lunatic and cry all the while doing it, so he needed to finally see that. See the pain he was causing her.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, eyes trailing over her features delicately.

“Nothing,” she answered with her gaze on her hands, which were still in the towel.

“Do you want me to kick them out?”

“No,” she shook her head quickly, very decisive in her answer. “Don’t kick them out.”

It was a weird concept anyway, kicking his own friends out so he could… what, comfort her out of whatever state she’d landed in?

He took her hands delicately and interlaced them with his, throwing the towel onto the floor somewhere. She watched as it fell, as her hands found their new home in his, and finally looked up to see Harry already looking at her.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, almost furious.

“Like what?” He had this innocent glint in his eye, void of any bad intentions and almost oblivious to her anger.

“Like you want to kiss me.”

“I do want to kiss you,” he smiled. Then he squeezed her hands, “can I?”

Y/N had never really learned how to say no, so with her silence, but also her body inching closer to his, came the approval he was looking for. He anchored a hand onto her jaw, allowing his lips to linger on hers with a solid grasp.

Her eyes fluttered shut, the tears forming in them finally released.

Y/N deepened it, trying to latch into him even more to make these feelings go away, convince herself that everything would be fine as long as Harry was actually kissing her, but the ill feeling in her stomach worsened.

She broke away from him, pressing her forehead to his chin, and shook her head. “I can’t do this anymore.”

He was still smiling. “What?”

Panic had risen in her chest, but she still wanted to go through with this.

“I want to end this.” This because she had no idea what they were.

Harry’s eyebrows drew together in concern but when he let his hands rest on her waist, she pulled away. “I can’t. I don’t want this anymore.”

“You mean— what, you mean us?”

She nodded, “I’m sorry.”

“Why… I mean, what… since when have you—“

“Weeks, I think. I need time alone, away from you. I can’t… I want something more than this.”

He pulled away, “oh.”

“Not with you!“ she rushed to say, later realizing that it had sounded a bit offensive when he frowned in response, “but I’m getting older and I need to feel like I’m going somewhere with my life, you know? Can’t just keep being somebody’s fuck buddy.”

The words tasted sour on her tongue.

“Oh,” he said again, and it drove her crazy. Why couldn’t he just say something other than that?

He was so enigmatic that it was hard to say goodbye to him, but she had to. She had to cut ties, at least for a little, so she could recover and find somebody who didn’t make her feel bad about herself, but also did everything else exactly the way Harry did them.

“Alright, if that’s what you want,” he nodded. It was robotic, his face stoic.

There was no fight in him— she didn’t know whether she was delighted or angered by it.

She was staring at him like she wanted to memorize every curve of his mouth, his nose, the exact shade of his irises. She knew this was the end, their demise, and if she never got to be close with him again, maybe it would be fine if she could look back and remember everything about him.

Y/N left Harry in that bathroom and headed straight home.

—

Y/N hadn’t seen any of her friends in a month. Her time had been overwhelmed with work and therapy, days spent at home crying because the lack of a romantic future in her life had finally sunk in. She was broken. She was hurt and ruined, and it had all really been her fault.

But she wanted to get out again. She wanted to see her friends and let her lips curl into a relieved smile at the sight of them goofing around drunk, or making jokes about how hellish it was to be alive.

She’d gone over the possibility of running into Harry and decided it would be fine, that she’d taken enough time away to cope with seeing him again.

He arrived at Sarah’s house at 10 pm, a glass of wine latched onto his glove-covered hand. Y/N watched from the kitchen as he gave her a hug, toed off his shoes and caught her eyes. He tried to smile, as did she, and raised his arm in a wave. Y/N nodded in acknowledgement, beginning to play with the bottle of beer in her hands. She was nervous. She was broken.

Her friends had seen it, of course, the exchange, but they stayed quiet. Neither of them had spoken about their falling out, but their scattered separate arrivals at house gatherings as well as her loud absence from the last few ones had confirmed things further.

She’d tried to avoid him, but Sarah’s house wasn’t as big as Harry’s. There was less space and everywhere she was, Harry couldn’t be more than a few feet away. There was a magnetic force that she was trying to ignore, as well as the pained looks he would be so blatant about.

Once things had quieted down, and the group had left to scatter in small gatherings around the fire place, on the couch, outside on the patio, Y/N felt it the best opportunity to sneak into the corridor where no one was around.

Well, no one but him. He always seemed to find her.

“I went on a date last week.”

Y/N sighed, “you’ve gotta stop following me around—“

“Because I hadn’t, you know,” he said, voice cracking and hand tightening around his glass, “I hadn’t been on one in months. Ever since we started, actually. Never thought it was necessary, or that I wanted to. But then you left, and I thought about what you said, and I really wanted to date. So I went to the bar, you know? I went to the bar and I… I saw this girl, and she was beautiful. She had long, wavy hair and she wore these really cute glasses, you know? Like, these brown tortoiseshell glasses similar to the ones you wear sometimes, and I fell in love with those glasses. Just fucking… couldn’t stop staring at them. I was thinking about you and about the night you left and I…” the words seemed to get lost somewhere in his throat, but he had this look on his face that mirrored painful confusion.

“Harry—“

“I want you to know that that was a really fucked up thing to do.”

That was it. After that, he left. He faced the other way and walked away from her. It wasn’t until he reached the door and opened it that she started following him.

“No!” She protested, “no, you don’t get to say that and walk away from me, you dick. You were the one who… who— just, you hurt me!”

That seemed to irk him (she’d wanted it to) because he turned again, stepping so close that she started backtracking, “I hurt you? I hurt you? You were the one who left!”

“Because you’re confusing as fuck!”

“What do you even—“ he shook his head, “you’re fucking quiet. You never tell me what you’re thinking or how you’re feeling and all at once, you burst at me. You never… you never say anything.”

“That’s what you wanted, Harry, so don’t tell me it’s only me when it was always about sex. You wanted the arrangement, you wanted booty calls, you wanted—“

“I wanted you to be you! The way you were when we were friends— so I tried to get you to open up, get closer to you, but you would never let me!”

Y/N was sure their friends could hear them from the living room, but she couldn’t find it in her to worry. “Why let myself get hurt when all this was was some stupid way to pass time? Cause that’s all it was, right? You call me, I call you— that’s fine, but it’s not worth exposing my secrets for.”

“Right, well I was under the impression things were going better but fine, if that’s what you think.”

She tutted. “Don’t do that. You told me you didn’t date, that we couldn’t start anything more and I never pushed you. I did exactly as you said.”

He blew out a breath, “things change.”

“I don’t know if you did, honestly.”

“I did.”

“You did?” She challenged, knowing it would blow up in her face. “What changed? Tell me exactly what changed, because it all felt the same to me! But I don’t know, maybe I missed your devastating declaration of love, or maybe I—“

“Alright, I love you, okay?” He was gripping his face in frustration, not nearly confident enough to look her in the eyes. In a more controlled tone, he repeated himself. “I love you.”

She scoffed. Out loud. It was followed by a laugh too, her scoff, and it reverberated through the room. Then she shook her head, and she couldn’t believe the audacity of him.

“Right, okay.”

He gave a sigh, tired. “Stop invalidating my feelings.”

His voice harbored just enough vulnerability for her to feel for him.

“You’re insecure about us, I get it. You were hurt, I understand. I didn’t want more when you did, I understand that too— but you weren’t the only one who got hurt in the end. It may have started out as a simple arrangement, but you know damn well things started changing months ago. I was showing you different sides of myself so that you would show the other, imperfect sides of you, but you never compromised with me. You wanted me to turn the lights off. You don’t even believe me when I say that I love you! Do you get how devastating it feels to tell someone that you love them and not only do they not feel the same way, they don’t even believe you could be capable of it?”

And she… she didn’t know what to say after that.

He was right, she supposed. She hadn’t considered his feelings in the matter.

“I do love you. I do. But if you think we’re a joke and we were never even real anyway, then fine.”

He’d started to distance himself, taking a few steps backwards from where she stood. She wanted to cry, but she didn’t want him to think she was trying to play victim— it was just what she did whenever she felt overwhelmed.

Y/N let him leave. Let him open the door and walk out, back to their friends, as she stood there alone. He was walking away from her.

And once the door closed, she burst into tears.

Her insecurities were mean, they were heavy on every part of her being right now.

She faced the front door leading outside and cried, trying to be as quiet as she could so nobody would hear her.

He did, though, or at least he had a feeling she was crying because he came back shortly after, almost like he’d been stood just outside regretting ever leaving. She could almost picture it, the door closing, their friends staring back at him with questioning glances— how he may have shut his eyes and released a deep breath before readying himself to get swallowed whole by the dramatics of it all over again. She was facing away from him, but her shoulders trembled in fear and he could kind of see her through the reflection of the door.

“Y/N.”

She shook her head.

“Y/N, turn around.” When she didn’t comply, Harry pulled her to the front of his chest, hesitant at first but becoming more confident as he felt her relax. His mouth was near her ear as he whispered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you cry.”

“Don’t, I’ve been horrible to you. And stupid.“

He shook his head. “It’s both of our faults.”

“I just… I always thought you wouldn’t like me as anything more than what we were and I wasn’t thinking.”

“I know,” he shushed her, pressing his lips to the side of her head and letting them linger there. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

He coaxed her around, never letting go.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

She sniffled, “I forgive you.”

He chuckled against her forehead, his chest heaving against hers. Her lips were curling into a small smile as well. She couldn’t help but mirror him.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, I didn’t mean to… you know, say it like that in the middle of an argument. Shouldn’t have done that.”

She thought for a moment before settling on a subtle shrug. “Think I do though.”

He laughed, “you think?”

She moved to rest her chin on his chest, a glint in her wet eyes as she spoke, “if I say I know, will you date me for real?” She still sounded nervous.

His grin was wide. “I don’t know, don’t you think it’s a bit too soon for dating? I mean, I just told you I love you.”

The delight that sparked in her was all he’d been looking for. “I wouldn’t be surprised with how anti-relationships you are.”

Harry pinched her bum, rolling his eyes. “That was before I knew you think you may be in love me. Now I’m considering it.”

She looked extra cute because her eyes were still glossy and red, but she seemed happier, a smile completely molding her features. “Hm, well I guess I better know then.”

He leaned down enough to nudge her nose with his, “you probably should.”

“I love you,” she whispered, breath hitting his lips. “I know I do.”

He kissed her then, pulling her impossibly close. “Again,” he’d said, and she obeyed. He gave her two short kisses, mumbling, “again” over and over again until he had his fill.

He couldn’t resist the last finishing kiss, lasting just a few seconds longer than the other ones. “Let’s go home.”

—

the end!

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles concept #famous!harry #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n

[justmystyles]

summary: a chance meeting at a diner turns your world upside-downand leads you on a whirlwind romance with one of the biggest pop stars in the world.

*back to my master list*

Chapter 1:

A work breakfast at a local diner leads to a meeting and unexpected invitation.

Chapter 2:

You attend your first Harry Styles show, but the most eventful part of the evening is afterwards.

Chapter 3:

Harry reaches out following your night together, and invites you to come visit him on tour.

Chapter 4:

Things heat up between you and Harry when you attend Harryween night 1.

Chapter 5:

It's Harryween night 2, and your last night in New York with Harry.

Chapter 6:

Harry invites himself to come spend some time with you while he's on break from tour.

Chapter 7 (NSFW):

Harry spoils you for your birthday.

Chapter 8 (NSFW):

It's the morning after your birthday, and it's finally time to have the talk you've been dreading.

Chapter 9:

Harry has dinner with your family.

Chapter 10:

You and Harry spend the rest of the week together, and have some conversations about your relationship.

Chapter 11 (NSFW):

Just as you settle into your long distance relationship, Harry returns for his New Year's visit.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x fem! reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles headcanon #harry styles meet cute #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry's house #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #love on tour #hslot #hslot harry #harry styles fic

[shawnxstyles]

personal

DATE: JULY 24, 2023

summary: you and harry are best friends who tell each other everything. or so you thought. when harry finds out you’ve barely done anything sexual, he offers to change that. and then things get a little… personal.

song: Glitch- taylor swift (this song seems fitting)

words: 6.5k

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [rubbing, fingering, nipple play, praise kink], mirror sex, cum tasting??, dirty talk), and language.

note: i literally wrote this in a few days i think. this idea is so basic, but who doesn’t love a cliché concept? PART 2

bestfriend!fratrry x inexperienced!reader (because i literally write no one else and fratrry is the love of my life)

—

Harry had a lot of friends. People that he grew up with and some that he met along the way that just stayed. But you were his number one overall, and he told you everything. You told him everything too.

Well, almost everything.

It never really caught his attention that you guys never talked about sex. You guys have been friends for 15 years, since you were five, so you’d think it would have been brought up at least once. But now that Harry thinks about it, he can’t think of one time you’ve talked about the act.

He didn’t think it would be like this. And he didn’t think you’d answer like that.

You and Harry were casually hanging out on a free school day, just like you always do. And then you start talking about this date you went on and how the guy was great. Harry was happy for you, he really was. All he wanted was to see his best friend happier than happy. However, being the best friend he was, he was nagging and joking with you.

“Think he’s the one, eh?” Harry jokes, nudging your shoulder playfully on your couch.

“Oh, stop it. Don’t get ahead of yourself,” You roll your eyes and cross your arms. Yeah, Mike seemed like a decent guy and maybe you could have a relationship for a short time, but he was nowhere near “the one.”

You weren’t too desperate for a relationship, you liked whatever came to you. This cute guy asked you on a date a week ago and you weren’t going to say no. Because what if he was the one? He wasn’t, but what if?

“Imagine it, Doll,” Harry started. He began calling you Doll when you two were just kids. You loved to collect dolls of all sorts, but you never dared to take them out of the box. Harry thought it was silly, but also cool. “picket white fence, beautiful lake house. Kids runnin’ ‘round—”

He saw your face cringe at the word kids. He tilted his head in confusion, arm moving to rest behind you on the couch. He scoots closer to you and waits for you to respond.

“No kids for me,” You awkwardly chuckle. It seemed almost sad the way you sounded.

“What? Thought you wanted to be a mum?”

“Not anymore,” You breathed out with an awkward smile, “need a husband to do that.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout getting a husband. Shouldn’t stop you from wanting ‘em,” Harry smiled sincerely at you and you nodded while looking down.

“Plus, you could always just go out on the street and ask some good-lookin’ lad to be the father of your kids!” You socked Harry hard in the shoulder. He lets out a hearty laugh because he always ruins a sweet moment with a stupid joke. That’s just how you like it though.

“I’m not a prostitute!”

“Never said tha’.”

“Can we just watch some TV? You’re annoying me,” You roll your eyes as you reach for the remote. Harry continues to laugh as you switch the television on.

When you’re indecisive, you toss the remote to Harry and he shuffles through the stations. He lands on a random one, also indecisive. You guys were too similar sometimes.

“Look on your phone for somethin’ and then I’ll find it. I’m done searching.”

“You looked for like two seconds!” You laughed at his laziness. He shrugs with a smile, leaning into the couch. Again, you roll your eyes playfully before doing a bit of research on your phone.

Suddenly, a moan echoes throughout your living room and your whole body stiffens up. Harry notices and tears his eyes away from the screen, which was portraying the sexy noises. You don’t look at him even though you can feel his eyes burning into you.

“Alright?” he asked out of concern, peering at your rigidness. He’s only ever seen you get like that when you were anxious or scared, but nothing happened. Maybe you saw something scary on your phone?

“Uh, yeah,” You squeaked as the TV moaned again. Your face cringes and you force yourself to keep your eyes on your phone.

“Y/N, seriously,” Harry stares between you and the screen when she noisily moans again. The woman was being eaten out by the man and was being overly loud. Her back was arching and her breasts were on display. The movie was inappropriate, 18+ for sure, but it was nothing you hadn’t seen before. Right? You were both 21 years old.

“This… just makes me a tad uncomfortable is all,” You answered honestly, voice quiet as your legs tightened together. Harry’s eyebrows pursed together.

“Uncomfortable? Why?” he couldn’t help the question that slipped out of his mouth. He was too curious to know why a little movie made you stiff yet fidgety.

Unless… you were feeling something different than uncomfortable.

“No,” You shook your head and attempted to push yourself off the couch. Harry didn’t hesitate to grab your wrist and pull you back. He didn’t want you to run away and for you to feel like you couldn’t tell him something.

“Just tell me.”

“No,” You stood your ground, way too embarrassed to say something. Way too embarrassed to admit that you’ve never had sex before. Way too embarrassed to admit you’ve never done anything more than rub your own clit. Once. And it didn’t even feel that good.

Your skin was fiery and… tingly. Harry was much closer to you than he previously was because he pulled you closer to him. Your bare thighs were touching, warm on warm with a sudden spark. You didn’t know you weren’t breathing until you inhaled deeply at Harry’s hooking stare.

“Doll, you tell me everything, but you can’t tell me why a little porn makes you uncomfortable? Because I know it’s tha’.”

“Ugh,” You groaned between clenched teeth. You threw your head back until it hit the top of the couch. Harry’s grip on your wrist never left you. He squeezed it reassuringly, letting you know that he supports you in whatever you’re going to say.

Are you really about to say it?

“Y/N, just—”

“No.”

“I thought we were best friends—”

“Do not pull that card!”

“But—”

“I’ve never had sex before, okay?” You shouted over Harry’s pleading voice and the echoing moans from the television. You’d think by the time you had a whole argument they’d be done having sex, but nope.

Harry was cut off, so his mouth was slacked open. Once he realizes his jaw is on the floor, he blinks a few times to really process what you’ve said. If you had told anyone else, they would have harshly judged you. Harry wasn’t necessarily too different, but he was your best friend, and he was going to try his hardest not too. Harry was just more shocked if anything. He had a handful of different bodies, enough to give him a good amount of experience. So when he finds out you’ve done nothing, he’s beyond surprised to his core.

“But you’ve had so many dates,” Harry looks over at your face, which was looking down at your lap. Your wrist was still trapped in his hand, but you were twiddling your thumbs like you were in trouble. He starts rubbing reassuring circles with his thumb over your knuckle. Your skin was so hot, and Harry’s theory of you being turned on continued in his mind.

Did you even know what that meant? You were naive, right?

“So? That doesn’t mean anything,” Your attitude was shining through. But deep down, you were more embarrassed than anything. This was just your coping mechanism. And of course, Harry knew that.

“Surely you’ve done something else,” Harry suggests. You pin him with a knowing look and a long blink.

“I haven’t,” You answered before even hearing his question. He clearly doesn’t care about your reply because he’s asking you a series of interrogation questions.

“Have you had someone eat you out—” Harry points to the screen, but it was on a commercial break now. You got the point, but Harry clearly didn’t.

“No,” You grumbled.

“What about fingering—”

“No.”

“A toy?”

“Where would I even buy that?”

“Or—”

“No, Harry. Nothing.”

“Not even rubbing?” he asks. You stay quiet, unsure if you want to admit the one-time experiment you did.

Why does it even matter? You tried it and you realized you don’t like it, so you never have to do it again right?

“Not… really,” You hesitated. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion while your skin burned at boiling temperature.

“Humping?”

“No—I tried to…” You couldn’t get the words out. Not ever you’d think. But especially not with Harry so close to you. His body was warm, not as warm as yours, but it was eliciting something inside of you that you couldn’t comprehend. The way he nonchalantly said so many dirty things made you dizzy.

“Tried to what?” Harry was thinking of so many things you could say. He wanted to finish your sentence, just like how he wanted to finish you until you were crying his name and soaking him. But he wanted to hear you say it. He’s never thought of you in such an explicit way, but with the words and tension floating in the air it was hard not to.

“…do it myself.”

“And how did that work out, Doll?”

“Um,” You didn’t expect him to ask. Your neck and cheeks light up in small flames. Where did this come from? “I…”

“What? I thought you could tell me anything?” When your eyes flickered up to his, they were a dark, swirling green you’ve never seen on his face before. Your heart skipped a dangerous beat, frightened with anticipation.

“I know, I can. But this… it’s different.”

“How so?”

“It’s personal—”

“Best friends are personal.”

“But not like this. Best friends don’t do this,” You tried to get up again, nearly ripping yourself away from his grip. But you were in too deep now. Harry wasn’t going to let this one slide. His mind was thinking about one thing and one thing only.

You.

He yanks you back and twirls you around, releasing your wrist in the process. He grabs you by the hips and pulls you down to his lap. You couldn’t contain the slight gasp you let out at the feeling of his strong legs beneath you. Your legs were on either side of him, tempting to squeeze shut. Every movement you made Harry would feel in this position.

“Best friends can say anything. They can do anything too,” Harry’s hands caress your thighs. They’re comforting and inviting, but are also sending a field of goosebumps along your skin warning you to flee. It’s hard to focus on anything but his touch and the vibration of his words through the air. “Now, tell me, did you rub yourself?”

“Yes,” You stutter, trying to stop your hips from squirming on his lap. He notices and grips one side of your body to steady you. It only makes you want to shift more. His touch was almost overwhelming, but you wanted more of it.

Was it wrong to want more of your best friend’s touch?

“Did it feel good?”

“No,” A part inside of you was a bit disappointed that it felt so bland. You thought masturbation was this great thing, and that’s why people did it so frequently. You heard it was also a stress-reliever, but for you, it was just a stress-inducer. Harry could tell by your tone that you weren’t lying.

“Well, you probably weren’t doing it right,” Harry replies and you look up at him with a slightly startled expression and a scoff. You didn’t expect his response to be so straightforward, like he was a doctor diagnosing you with some disease.

“How could I do it wrong? Don’t I just rub…?”

“Baby, it’s much more than that,” Harry said sincerely. He’s never called you baby before, but the nickname had your heart jumping. “Were you even wet?”

“What? I—probably? I don’t remember…”

“You would remember.”

“The experience wasn’t very memorable,” You grumble with an eye roll.

“Do you want me to show you?”

His question had your head spiraling. He wanted to what? There is no way. There is no way those words just left Harry, your best friend’s, mouth.

“W-what? That’s way too personal!” Your eyes were wide and your skin was burning. You were nearly dizzy with this whole conversation and your stomach was tight. You thought you might need to lie down for a while.

Maybe you were sick. Yeah, that’s it.

“Best friends are personal, Doll. Just let me show you, yeah? And then we never have to talk about it again. If y’don’t want. Please,” Harry’s charm was convincing you. Everything about him was luring you in, completely different than ever before. The way his eyes was dark and his touch was warm made you feel wanted and needed, which was contrary to your past dates. They didn’t look at you this way, nearly beg for you this way. They didn’t show you anything. They wanted you because they wanted to get their dick wet, but they hated the idea of a virgin.

And Harry’s familiar. He’s safe. You don’t have to be afraid when you’re with him. But then why are you so nervous?

Harry was willing to teach you how to do the one thing you’ve been curious about your whole life, and you’re going to pass up the opportunity, why? Because he’s your best friend?

Isn’t that supposed to make it better?

“Okay, fine,” You inhaled as your hands gripped onto his T-shirt on his shoulders. You had convinced yourself to let the words slip out. “Show me.”

You were agreeing almost as if this wasn’t a big deal for you. But to Harry, it was. He would take your firsts, and something about that filled him with pride. A smirk slowly rides up on his lips, “Now?”

A blush cascades through your body. Of course he didn’t mean right now!

“I-I thought you meant—”

“Shh, relax, Doll. I was just makin’ sure,” he smirks again, pulling you closer to him. He loved watching you get all squirmy and flustered more than he thought. You could feel his body heat more than ever now, and you’re surprised you lasted this long on his lap without dying. “I’m going to give you a few options, okay?”

With anxiousness, you nodded and swallowed.

“When we do this, you have to talk. So use your words, Y/N,” You knew he was being serious when he said your name, so you replied with yes and then he was giving you your options.

“So, I can lay you down right here on the couch and show you how to rub your little clit,” his explicit words were making your privates ache, but it wasn’t painful. It kind of felt… good? You felt a foreign liquid dampen your underwear, and you can only assume that’s the wetness Harry was talking about. “Or, you can do it yourself on m’thigh with my help. Which one sounds like something y’want to do?”

“The first one,” You answered, painfully desperate to squeeze your legs together to stop this ache. “But how will I see what you’re doing?”

Harry thought for a moment. You made a good point. How were you supposed to learn simply from feeling? Harry knew you were a bit of a visual learner, so he wanted to make sure you saw how to pleasure yourself correctly. And he knew the perfect way to do that.

“I actually have a third option. But s’not really a choice anymore,” Harry doesn’t say anything after, he just lifts himself and you off the couch without warning. You wrap your arms and legs around his body like a koala, making sure you don’t fall. His warmth encompasses you back and you wish you could just stay there forever.

Familiar. Safe.

When your head peers up from his shoulder, you’re in his bathroom. Your eyebrows pinch together, curious as to what his third choice was.

He sets you down on the floor until your feet are planted. You unwrap your arms from him, still confused.

“Do you trust me, Y/N?” Harry’s eyes were still dark, and you wondered if they would ever go back to the strong, emerald green they used to be.

“Yes, of course,” You didn’t hesitate to answer. There was no one that you trusted more than Harry that wasn’t in your bloodline.

“Okay,” Harry breathes, “Strip f’me. Keep your bra and underwear on.”

You nearly questioned him in shock. But then you remembered what the whole goal of this was. He was going to show you how and you were going to listen, right? So you did.

Carefully, you stripped yourself of your clothes. He’s seen you in bathing suits before, and some were revealing, so this can’t be as bad, right? Harry didn’t peel his eyes away although you wanted him to. He hasn’t seen you naked since you two were little kids, and even though you weren’t naked, it felt like you were with his burning gaze. Obviously, there were some changes too. Like height, hair, breasts, ass… the whole thing. Harry doesn’t say anything until you’re in your undergarments.

A swimsuit is definitely different.

“Good. Now, c’mere,” Harry sits down on the floor, a few feet away from his full-body mirror. His body was up against the bathtub wall to keep himself steady. You slowly lowered yourself to the floor, wondering what was going on through his head.

He pulls you between his legs until you’re pressed against his body. His warmth radiated through you far better with less clothes on and your body ached some more. Your legs closed to squeeze it away.

“Nuh uh,” he declines. Harry grips your thighs with his ringed fingers and yanks them apart. You gasp at the extreme vulnerability and the coolness that waves over your privates. He throws your legs over his and bends them slightly, making you unable to move at all. “Keep them open, yeah?”

You nodded, but that’s not what he told you to do.

“Words.”

“Yes. Keep them open.”

“Good girl. You’re learning,” Harry smiled and looked towards the mirror. His eyes instantly zoomed in on the growing wet patch on the front of your cotton panties, and he couldn’t help but smirk. He saw and felt your body squirming similarly like how you were on his lap. He’s had a rock-hard cock since this conversation started, so he’s not surprised if you can feel his hard-on poking your back through his shorts.

His hands rested on your knees as you watched him in the mirror. The entirety of it all was extremely erotic, like something that would be on TV.

“If you like something, tell me. If you hate something, tell me. It’s important that you do so, okay? It helps both of us learn.”

“Okay,” You were nearly shaking with anticipation. You were so nervous, but why? It’s just Harry. It’s just Harry. “I kind of like when you say I’m doing a good job. Makes me feel… nice.”

“Yeah?” Harry tried to conceal the smirk that threatened to rise on his lips. Of course his best friend, who happened to be the most innocent person in the world, had a praise kink. It just made too much sense. “Like when I call you a good girl?”

You sighed and nodded, but Harry didn’t say anything this time. He just kept going.

One of his hands rested on your knee, tracing delicate circles. He stayed in the same spot, for god knows how long, and you wondered when he would do something. He seemed to be in a trance. He was hyper-focusing on every centimeter with those circles, and although you were getting impatient, you felt cared for.

One of his hands snakes to your chest and rubs your nipple through your bra. Just when you were about to protest, his fingers moved a tad lower. The roughness of his pads tickled your skin just right and caused your thighs to squirm. It was entertaining for Harry to watch you get all squirrely from such a simple touch.

He’s going to have fun with you.

“It… tickles,” You observe as your eyes look down at his fingers, very gradually moving closer to that ache in between your legs. You felt like a kid exploring a new world for the first time; naive and curious.

“What does?”

“Your fingers,” You stare at him in the mirror almost as if he’s stupid. What else would tickle?

“Does this tickle?” Harry’s knuckle brushes the inside of your thighs, lower than he’s been. You inhale at the subtle sensitivity.

“Not much,” You answer, and his knuckle continues to sway leisurely. Your breath picks up, rising faster at his hand’s proximity.

“What about this?” His index finger traces the hem of your panties with purpose. You gasp when he gets deep in between your legs, outlining your cunt with ease. Your legs attempt to shut with a shake, shying away from the vulnerability, but it’s impossible with his strong legs prying you open.

“A-a little.”

“And this?”

As if his touch could be anymore teasing, he finally dances along your clothed cunt, tracing your lips with curiosity of how you’d react. A mix of a sigh and a moan wavers out of you unintentionally, hips pushing closer towards his finger. Your mind blanks, light and fuzzy. Your face immediately falls to gaze at his movements, attracted to the air-headed feeling.

“Eyes on the mirror,” Harry demands while delicately caressing you. It was ironic, really. His voice was so rough and stoic while his touch was ever so gentle. With a few blinks, you're focusing in on the mirror, obeying his command. “How does this feel? Does it tickle?”

“Good, and yes,” You swallow your moan as his finger keeps petting you lightly. You were almost getting used to it, but you wanted more. “Is this what I was supposed to do?”

“Sort of. This is called foreplay. Heard of tha’?”

“I think so?” You were breathless.

“S’basically where I get you all wet and ready f’me. You like that?”

“L-love and hate relationship right now,” You pant as his finger rises away from your weeping, covered hole and travels up to your clit. You choke out a gasp as he strokes it nonchalantly.

“Oh,” Your hand drops to his thigh, gripping it strongly as your body begins to tingle. You strain your neck to keep your eyes on the mirror ahead of you, trying to watch how he does it.

His familiar smirk never fades from his face, cheeks a tad rosy from the heat waving between you two. His wrist is probably sore from the tedious, repeated movements he does. His thick fingers delicately circle your covered clit, applying generous pressure until you’re panting.

“More. I think I need more,” You suggest when his pace stays a consistent speed. You needed to feel his fingers on your bare skin. If he was going to touch you, you wanted him to just do it already.

“Y’think?” Harry’s tone was taunting yet serious. He wanted you to be firm with what you wanted. He didn’t want you to second-guess your own pleasure. If you needed more, you needed to tell him that. The best way for that to happen was for him to train you. “Beg for it.”

As your head becomes floaty with the stimulation, you don’t even hesitate to throw out pleads.

“Please, Harry. I-I need it, need more,” Your head slowly falls back onto his shoulder before his touch is gone. “Wha—”

Harry couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to see you. All of you. He needed to see what he did to you, and if you were really as desperate as you seemed. As shocking as this all may be to you, it was just as shocking to Harry. He couldn’t believe he was this turned on from his best friend’s inexperience. He’s always liked when a girl knew what she was doing and knew how to reciprocate. But something about Harry teaching you and showing you the ropes just fills him with a kind of power and pride that he can’t get from anywhere else. And he’s feasting off of it.

“M’gonna take these off, alright?”

“Everything? O-okay,” He unclipped your bra as you slowly slid down your panties. The tile beneath you was colder than before, but Harry’s warm body behind you kept you comforted.

“Have you heard of the traffic light system?” he asks, hands resting gently on your bare shoulders. He gets straight into the safety part first. It also distracts him from ogling your naked figure against him. He could feel his cock twitch in his briefs at your fluttering pussy and peaked nipples.

“I assume you don’t mean the ones used for driving?” You both chuckle and break some of the swollen tension in the room. It was a nice little reminder that it’s just Harry.

“No, Doll. The one for safety and consent,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, no, I’ve never heard of it.”

“If you say red, I’ll stop instantly and ask what made y’red. Communication is key. If y’say yellow, I’ll slow down and ask you again. And then we can either continue or stop, whatever y’want. But if your color is green, I’ll keep going. Understand, love?”

There was a lot of information, but you were able to keep up. It was actually similar to the traffic light system, which makes the name very fitting. You reply with a firm yes to note that you understand.

All while he was talking and explaining everything, you were getting used to looking at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t always confident in your body, but staring at it in between Harry’s made you feel safe and sexy somehow.

Before your mind can wander too far, Harry’s hands are falling down until they’re at your nipples. His rough fingers lightly pinch the already-hard buds until you’re pushing up into his touch. The warmth and the nakedness made you overly flushed all over. He gropes your breasts with care, slyly sliding another hand down lower.

Throughout this entire process, you’ve been soaking; in your underwear, in your shorts, and now on his bathroom tile. Your lower body has been throbbing in desire to be aided, and Harry seems to know just what you need.

His fingers hover right above your mound that’s screaming for him to go lower. Your heart rams against your chest in anticipation of his bare hands on your bare body, on your most sacred and vulnerable parts. No one has ever touched you beside yourself. A small part inside of you was glad that the first person was Harry because you knew you wouldn’t regret it.

Right?

“Stop thinking s’much,” he says, rubbing a warm palm over your belly. His face moves your head, so his lips can kiss your temple reassuringly. You slightly arch your back, so maybe he could see how desperate you are. Your legs were still spread by his, so you know he can see your wetness. If you can see it, so can he. “Just let me show you how it’s done.”

“Okay, Mr. Cocky,” You roll your eyes as he shifts your hair behind your ear, “What if I don’t even like it?”

“The name is very fitting. But that’s for a different day,” he says with a cocky smirk on his face. Now that sounds like something Harry would say. But your entire face gets warm and your head gets a little fuzzy when you actually imagine it. “and you will. Trust me.”

You take a deep breath. You weren’t sure how far you guys were going to go, but you’ve never felt more ready and more safe. With the system Harry told you about and all his reassurance, it was clear that even if he was teaching you, you were the one that had all the control.

“Now watch me.”

With those words his hand turns into just one finger and resumes on your clit. You gasp into the air as your body jolts. The roughness of his thumb paints your arousal over and over on your skin.

“This little thing is important. Don’t neglect it.”

His rhythm is slow and tedious as he circles the nub. You see and feel him dip down to collect some more of your wetness as he continues stroking you.

“How’s this? Color?” he gruffs in your ear while staring at you darkly in the mirror. You could barely understand him because you were panting embarrassingly and trying your hardest to focus on the reflecting glass in front of you.

“Good! Wait—green,” You corrected yourself as a moan elicited from you, his touch feeling even better each second.

“Good girl.”

“Fuck,” You feel yourself clench around nothing but your own wetness at his words. You both watch as the liquid quenches out of your dripping hole, making Harry groan from behind you.

“Do y’think you can handle one finger? Hm?” his voice rolls perfectly into your ear as he twists your peaked nipple. You couldn’t control your moans at the pleasure. His voice sounded just as good as the feeling of his hands.

“Yes, yes. Harry, please,” You nearly cried from how bad you needed it. You didn’t even know you needed it this bad. You thought you were going to hate this feeling, but you’re far from it.

“So submissive, so responsive,” Harry’s middle finger pushes against your hole, teasing the opening. You hold your breath as he makes you wait. “Breathe, Doll. Relax.”

Your eyes close for a moment. You breathe deep and feel your limbs lose their sudden tenseness. Before you can open them again, Harry’s finger is slotting inside of you easily. A gasp falls from your mouth as your hand grips on his meaty thigh for support.

“O-oh.” The feeling was insane. Intense. Nearly overwhelming. You clenched around his digit, consuming and caging it like it would fade away.

You’re so tight around him, he swears his finger might fall off. Harry’s cock is pulsing and pleading behind your back, but you don’t seem to notice. He’s making sure he doesn’t rut into you, but it’s so difficult when you’re all spread out and submissive for him.

He’s never thought of you like this, but fuck, now he can’t think of you any other way.

“Color, Doll?” Harry grumbles in your ear, voice low and breathy as it fans over your skin warmly.

“Green. What’s more than green? B-blue? Just–don’t stop–God,” Your squeaky voice rambled as his finger pumped in and out slowly. You can hear his smile behind your screwed eyes. The pad of his thumb rubbed delicate circles over your throbbing clit to escalate the pleasure.

Your chest was beating fast when your legs started to shake. Your hips bucked closer to his hands, needing more as you chase the glorious feeling.

“Look at you, takin’ me so well,” Harry praises, subtly curling his finger as your back arches. You know that one finger isn’t a lot, barely anything, but you were melting at the praise that Harry gave you. His constant encouragement is what made you putty in his hands. Literally.

“Harry,” You moaned into the heated air, causing Harry to groan desperately behind you. And you’re not too stupid to deflect that Harry might be turned on from the scene unfolding. If you knew more, if you knew better, you would have offered to help him after. But you were inexperienced, and you assumed he wouldn’t want someone to give him head who could possibly bite his dick off.

“Are you close, baby? Hm? Gonna come for the first time on my hand?”

“Y-yes! Please,” You begged as you climbed your high, wondering what the top would feel like if the chase was this blissful.

Your head falls restlessly on his shoulder while his right hand keeps focusing on your cunt. It was covered in your arousal as his pace picked up. The stimulation was almost too much, your body wanted to push away. But your mind was pleading to feel a release you know your body needed.

“Is it gonna h-hurt?” You groaned as your cunt clenched around him again, stomach tensing. A strong rush you assumed could only be an orgasm was approaching you all too fast.

“No, Doll. It’s gonna feel real good,” He twisted your nipple again, pushing you over the edge. You felt his thumb and index pinch your clit, causing you to scream his name against his chest. “Look in the mirror. Watch yourself fall apart f’me. Watch and make sure this time is memorable.”

You always thought Harry had a way with words. You never thought that about dirty talking though. His hands were as skillful as can be, and maybe one day you’ll be able to make yourself feel as good as he made you feel. But his words are something that you’ll never be able to treat yourself with. You don’t think you’ll ever meet another person whose voice is as fitting as Harry’s.

With his demanding tone, you came right over the edge. An overwhelming ripple of pleasure ceased through your body, shaking your legs to the max. Soundless moans and clawing nails were all you were capable of as you came on his large hand. Although you were straining, you never took your eyes off of the mirror. He told you to look at yourself as you came, but you were only staring at the glaring green eyes reflecting back at you. He rubbed all of your orgasm until you were trembling from overstimulation.

Just when you thought he was done, he raised his ringed hand to his mouth and tasted you. You thought that was something that they only did porn or movies. You swallowed intensely as his hum vibrated through you.

“Do you always… taste it?”

“If I think it’ll taste good,” he smirked as you scooted forward to grab your shirt. As you throw it over your head, you just had to ask.

“Did mine taste any good?” You slightly cringed as you asked the question. Does cum usually taste good? What does it even taste like?

His smirk widens, a hint of evilness rising, “do you want to find out?”

Your skin flushes even against the chilling tile. Your heart skips a beat at trying yourself. You hadn’t ever thought of it before. But you’ve come (literally) this far tonight, so why not just take it a little further?

“O-okay,” You slowly lift up your shirt, revealing your fucked-out cunt to him again. “So I just…?”

“May I?” he suggests.

“Yes.”

Two of Harry’s fingers swipe over your cunt, which was still covered in a mix of your arousal and cum. You jolted from the stimulation, tensing quickly before his touch was gone.

“Open,” and without thinking, you do. Your mouth falls open as his fingers lay flat on your tongue. Salty and creamy, it spreads over your tastebuds. You hummed around his fingers just like he did because it tasted good. Yeah, it was a bit odd, but once you got past that, you realized how erotic and sexy it was. “How’s it taste?”

After a bit of suckling on his digits, he puts them out way too soon for your liking. “Good, actually.” You creak from your dry throat.

“I think so too. Let’s clean you up real quick.”

Still sitting on the floor, a warm, wet towel soothes your sensitiveness as he wipes away all of your liquids. A smile broke out on his face when he finished before his hand landed on top of your head. He shook your hair like crazy until it was already wilder than it was. The action was childlike and friendly, almost as if everything between you guys never happened and you were back to square one. It was better that way, though. Right? To just go back to how everything used to be?

Harry grabs the small hand towel and exits his bathroom. You assume he went to discard it and add it to his laundry, but you just sat there in oblivion. You already missed his touch, longing for something you should’ve never even had in the first place. He was the one that offered himself to teach you, but now you’ve been taught, so where do you guys go now? Are you really supposed to just go back to the way it was?

He saw you in ways that no one else has before. You always thought that you would be intimate and have your groups of firsts with someone that you were dating, someone that you loved. Because of this, you realized that Harry was the safe option. Doing this with Harry changed your views on everything, and your body, heart, and mind couldn’t keep up with the rapid reversal.

You knew that Harry had a few notches in his belt. But were they all from relationships or just one-night stands? You didn’t know because you two rarely ever discussed the topic. Was it easy for Harry to go from girl to girl? Or did he get attached like you?

If there was one thing you always feared from sex and sexual doings, it was the intense attachment. You had heard about the infamous addiction intimacy laces within your veins that makes you crave a person. Now that you’ve been with Harry, that won’t happen to you, right?

You’ve known Harry forever, yet you’ve never craved him. He’s your best friend, and you’ve never seen him as more than that. If it was anyone else, you’d probably lose all control because you have no significant relationship with them. It would be easy to latch onto anybody because it would be easy to lose them too. Harry, on the other hand, was not easy to lose.

The last thing you want is to convince yourself of anything. You don’t want to “crave” Harry just because you saw something about an article online about “sexual chemicals fusing.” You couldn’t. No, it was too risky.

You’ve known Harry forever, so you couldn’t lose him forever too.

“I think I found a good movie to watch!” Harry’s voice echoes from his living room and all the way into the bathroom where you haven’t moved a muscle. Your overthinking was louder than it’s ever been. With a shaky breath, you rise from the tiles and stare at your disheveled appearance in the mirror. The same mirror you watched Harry finger fuck you with.

“Be out there in a second!” You shout back as your heart beats rapidly from his heartwarming voice laughing loudly at something. You clutched your chest, wondering why the fuck you were feeling the organ lurch for him in a way that wasn’t meant for him.

You knew that it was way too fucking personal.

—

thanks for reading angels 😙 part 2

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