#cherryjuiceblues sleepover | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherryjuiceblues · 1 year

Note

please write anything w grumprry x sunshine. Ik I’ll love it no matter what🙃

✰ grumpy!harry no warnings.

Harry sleeps on his front with his arms stretched underneath his pillow and the sheets resting low on his naked waist. You stand in the doorframe of his bedroom, excitedly holding a tray of breakfast made just for him, trying to decide the best way to wake him up. Gently placing the tray on his dresser, you grin as you climb onto the bed and straddle his waist.

He stirs slightly, groaning into the pillow but not waking up. You lean over and kiss up his spine, hair tickling his skin. “What’re you doin’?” He grumbles, voice thick and gravelly. It makes your body tingle.

“Rise and shine!” You bury your face into his neck and bite down softly. Harry groans again but doesn’t move, secretly amused by your odd behaviour. Biting him isn’t exactly a new experience. “If you don’t wake up right now, the chomp monster is going to keep biting you,” you giggle, angling your head slightly and biting him a little closer to his shoulder.

Harry shifts, turning so you fall onto the mattress and your game is over. His tired eyes watch your face as he holds his body up above you. “Stop being such a menace,” he grouses, voice slower than usual.

“But I was having fun,” you pout, hands smoothing over his shoulders and into his hair. Your teeth marks on his neck fade quickly. Harry dips down and nips at your bottom lip hard. You squeal and lift your knee up, nearly catching him in an unfortunate place.

“See?” He says, face hovering centimetres from yours. “S’not very nice, is it?”

But you don’t want to give in. “I don’t know, I kinda liked it.” You bring your legs up around his waist and try to pull him into you. Of course he doesn’t budge.

“You kinda liked it?” He does it again, even harder, and you’ll admit it hurts a little.

“Okay! I don’t like it, ow.” You pull away frowning. “I didn’t bite you that hard.”

This pulls a wry smile from Harry. “Shouldn’t start something you can’t finish, my love,” as he finally gives you a proper kiss, the way he intends on waking up every morning. You try to pretend you’re upset with him but it doesn’t last, not even for a second, as he smooths his soft lips against yours and down your jaw to your neck. You melt into his touch, hands threading through his hair lovingly and feeling the world around you disappear.

He lets you reach that fuzzy place, chest swarming with satisfaction at every content sigh that slips from your mouth. And then he squeezes your waist. Enough to make you jump—and your mind isn’t quick enough to piece together what he’s doing until he’s squeezing again and you’re writhing under him, tortured laughs being forced from your mouth. His hands move all over your body, familiar with every part of you that is ticklish. Glimpses you catch through your clenched eyes show that Harry barely looks affected, curled lips the only indication that he’s having fun. It makes it all the more agonising as you suffer under his hands whilst he shows no sign that he’s doing anything.

You grasp at his hands desperately. “Please! Stop—please!” You’re laughing but it’s your body betraying you. Harry doesn’t look like he’s going to listen but then you remember the reason you woke him up in the first place. “I made you breakfast!” It comes out almost like a sob—a breathy, sad sob as all the air in your lungs is sucked out of you. His hands halt and you breathe in heavily, mouth turned into a frown.

“Did you now?” Harry hums, sitting back and letting you relax. He scratches at his chin and looks down at you, eyes thoughtful. You get up, pout still present as you present him with the tray. “Look at that.” He smiles again, reaching his eyes. “Treating me the way I deserve, huh?” Harry teases, accepting the tray as he sits back against the pillows.

You scowl. “Not anymore.”

“You started it, love. Bit me like a needy puppy.”

“You bit me and tickled me!” You huff, sitting on your knees next to him with wide eyes. He thinks you look so sweet—and a little bit pitiful.

“Mm, but you still started it, didn’t you?” Harry takes a long swig from the cup of coffee that’s cooling down fast.

“But breakfast,” you gesture to his lap and his eyes soften, knowing how happy it makes you to show your love this way.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Your eyes immediately sparkle and he holds a slice of toast in front of your mouth for you to take a little bite.

“But tell the chomp monster that I can be very mean when I want to be.”

sleepover tag!

#cherryjuiceblues sleepover #blurb night #harry styles #writing #harry styles blurbs #grump!harry #grumprry #grumpy x sunshine #harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #harry concept #concept

1K notes · View notes

cherryjuiceblues · 1 year

Note

for the sleepover!!

just a cute little midnight snack fluff blurb. y/n can’t sleep and goes downstairs to make her fav midnight snack— H wakes up and finds her downstairs and finishes making it for her 🥹🥹🫶🏼 no rush at all and it’s totally okay if u don’t get to it!! xx

✰ boyfriend!harry no warnings.

You’ve been staring at the side of Harry’s face for longer than you know, long since giving up on attempting to sleep and instead trying to make out your boyfriend’s pretty features in the dark. You don’t know why you’re struggling so much tonight but, it seems no matter what you do, your brain just won’t settle.

You’d considered waking Harry up but immediately dismissed the thought, frowning at the idea of disrupting his sleep. And after tracing his face with your eyes a multitude of times, feeling no closer to falling asleep, you decide to get up. You don’t breathe until you’re sure you haven’t woken Harry, engulfing deep breathes once you reach the kitchen, the tiles cold on your feet. Something warm in your tummy ought to mellow you out a little, you think.

Everything seems to make so much more noise when you’re trying to be quiet, the pot you’re extracting from the cupboard making you wince as it clatters against something and the lid you nearly drop scraping against something else. As the water boils (run from the apparently deafening tap) your body deflates—exhaustion more prevalent now that you’re up, and you rest yourself against the counter, head hanging low. Your eyes fall shut and despite the discomfort of standing you nearly drift off, until you hear the telling noise of bubbling water and force your eyes open.

“What’re you doing up?” A tired voice sounds behind you and you nearly jump out of your skin, whipping around to see a dishevelled Harry. You frown. “Don’t be too pleased to see me,” he says sarcastically, scratching at his jaw.

“I didn’t want to wake you up, m’sorry.” You let him pull you into a hug as he walks over, chest hard and warm.

“My body was missing you,” he drawls, and you smile against him. “Get hungry?”

You nod, “Couldn’t sleep,” speaking into his skin. “M’making cheesy pasta.”

Harry hums and fiddles with the hob behind you—probably turning it down. Still wrapped up in his arms, you go to turn but he stops you.

“Lemme. Go sit.” And you want to argue but you’re too tired. So with delayed steps you totter over and lift yourself up onto the counter opposite Harry and the hob; probably a bad idea considering you might fall off it if you drift off, but once you’re up, you don’t want to move.

Harry potters about and you watch him with eyes half-lidded. Gaze as he takes out the pasta and pours an appropriate amount into the pan (you would’ve cooked enough to feed a family of four, most likely) and then as he grates some cheese to make the sauce. It’s a meal he makes well, experienced in the cooking of it whenever you need comfort food. Your eyes shut once more and you’re too gone to panic about where you’re sitting as the delicious smell of cooking lulls you to sleep.

“Hey,” Harry whispers, suddenly in front of you, hand on your knee. Well, you think it’s sudden but then you realise you’re just waking up. He’s holding a finished bowl of cheesy pasta and you perk up considerably, wiping the tiredness from your eyes.

“Mm, thank you,” you hum, reaching out to grab it with slow movements.

Harry pulls it away, removing his hand from you to hold the fork. “I’ll feed you, baby, y’can close your eyes.” You smile up at him, heart full, even though you shake your head in a way of saying you’ll keep them open. Harry knows you won’t. He stabs a couple of pieces and holds them up to your mouth that you open gratefully, eyes shutting immediately at the soothing warmth and taste. You try to reopen them, you do, but Harry reassures you. “Don’t fight it, love.”

He means it in the most sincere and caring way, but he also takes the opportunity to feed himself some, free of your inevitable grumbling and pouting (“Don’t eat my food!” He can picture you saying, before replying, “I made it for you, brat.”).

Once the pasta is all gone, and you are ninety-five percent asleep, Harry sets the bowl down quietly in the sink and scoops you up into his arms—your legs cling to his waist, and your arms to his neck, like the true depiction of a sloth.

When he lays you back down in bed, it takes you all of five seconds to sink into a happy and satisfied slumber, this time with Harry the one to watch your face before he too, falls asleep.

sleepover tag!

#cherryjuiceblues sleepover #blurb night #harry styles #harry styles blurbs #writing #harry styles x reader #soft!harry #softrry #bf!harry #harry styles imagines #harry concept #keepdrivingkisses #concept

658 notes · View notes

cherryjuiceblues · 1 year

Note

Hiiii! Can you do one where y/n and harry are fucking and hes hitting it from the back and then she starts bouncing her ass back on him and he’s in a trance moaning loud and stuff. Im sorry i need help😭😭😭

anon: Softdom with aftercare anon: Smut frat!harry

✰ frat!harry sexual content. aftercare. minors dni.

Your skin is on fire. Everywhere Harry touches has you sinking deeper and deeper into the mattress, hands gripping tight in his hair. He’s lapping you up after just having made you come with his mouth, mumbling something along the lines of lemme clean you up, baby, as you twitch and gasp in sensitivity. He’s gentle in a way you’ve never experienced from someone his age (and it still manages to shock you), as his thumbs stroke your hips with every noise you make—contrasted by the ravenous way he continues consuming you.

“Can you still take me?” He whispers against your mound, climbing up your body when you nod and whimper, leaving tender kisses as he goes. “Yeah?” Harry sucks a mark underneath your chin and you arch up into him. “Yeah, pretty girl?”

You find your voice. “Yes. I can take you, Harry.”

He smiles against your skin, kissing up to your lips and you open up for him easily, eager to taste yourself. “I know you can,” he says into your mouth. “You were made for me, weren’t you?”

And the implications don’t scare you; no matter how not together the two of you are—your body belonged to him the moment he first took you. So you don’t hold back in agreeing. “Made f’you—only you. Please fuck me now.”

Harry bites your chin in response, feigning softness in the pecks he sponges onto your cheeks before he flips you over with ease. The way he manhandles you is exciting and you have to make the conscious effort to position your head to the side so you can breathe. But Harry has it all figured out for you (“Don’t need you to worry about a thing,” he’d once promised with you sitting pretty on his lap) as he props you up on your forearms and pulls you by your hips to his front.

His hardness slips through you and you twitch in anticipation as Harry sighs. He paints himself up and down your folds for a torturous amount of time, daring to push the tip in before withdrawing��teasing you and himself. You’re desperate, chin touching your chest in near madness, as you reach a hand back and search for him. Harry interlocks your fingers and pulls your arm behind your back, giving himself leverage as he finally sinks into you with a choked groan.

Your eyes flutter shut in relief and it doesn’t take long for your other arm to collapse, getting trapped underneath your chest. Harry’s grip is firm on your wrist behind your back, his other hand on your hip as he alternates between fucking you fast and then slow—numbingly hard either way. The way he changes pace makes you dizzy; impossible to stay calm and your body starts reacting on its own.

“Fuck,” Harry moans as you start to bounce back into his thrusts, barely aware of your own movements. His hips stutter. “Yes, fuck baby, that’s so hot.” He lets go of you and leans over your body, chest pressing to your back and hands pushing into the mattress, as you thrust back onto his cock. Harry stops moving, letting you work him how you want, and his mouth becomes loose with fragmented praise that turns into unintelligible noises. You feel his hair brushing your back, forehead dropping in nothing but pleasure. You’re sure he’s never been so bent out of shape.

But you start to tire, and once he notices he’s quick to start up again. His hands grip your waist and push you further into the bed—your knees collapsing—as he fucks into you so deep your jaw falls open; you’re sure it will never close again. “You close?” Harry pants.

Your arms stretch out above you as you cry. “Please don’t stop—oh my god.”

“Come on baby, squeeze my cock,” his voice is so taut, so ready to come.

You clench around him and he lets out another deep groan, hand reaching around to your front to rub your clit in tight circles. This time you clench involuntarily and it doesn’t take much longer until you’re crying out, shoving your face into the mattress and coming around Harry in hot pulsating spasms. He’s sure to work you through it before desperately pulling out and releasing long ribbons onto your ass and lower back. His softening cock rests on you for a moment as you both calm down, breathing loud.

“Don’t move,” Harry says gently after a moment whilst getting up. You don’t dare to, limbs turning to jelly and surely fusing to his bed. He returns with a soft washcloth, smiling to himself when you jump as he wipes his come off you and swipes delicately between your legs. “You still with me?”

You hum although you’re not sure you aren’t asleep. “That was good,” you manage to whisper.

Harry laughs and lays down next to you, tenderly moving you to rest on top of him. “Yeah, it was. Getting harder and harder not to come as soon as I push inside of you,” he brushes your hair away from your face.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” you smile with closed eyes.

Harry lets his own eyes close as your heartbeats even out and he falls asleep trying to stay convinced that he’s not completely and utterly in love with you.

sleepover tag!

#cherryjuiceblues sleepover #blurb night #harry styles #writing #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #frat!harry #fratrry #softdom!harry #softdomrry #harry styles blurbs #harry styles imagines #harry concept #concept

705 notes · View notes

cherryjuiceblues · 1 year

Note

what if harry and reader was in the same school and had same classes and was like ’enemies’ but harry would tease the reader all the time and trying to make them blush but secretly harry has a crush on the reader

✰ frat!harry no warnings. teasing. gentle bullying.

You can feel Harry’s eyes on your back as you try to focus on what your lecturer is saying. It’s always the same—you’ll turn to look at him but his lips will curl and you’ll end up feeling like he’s caught you in the act.

He riles you up without effort; distracts you from your notes without having to say a thing. It infuriates you and he lives for it. Watches the way you try to relieve the tension in your neck and shuffle in your seat in discomfort as he burns holes into your back.

It’s hard for Harry sometimes to stay so stony when all he wants is to gaze at you moony-eyed, but the teasing makes it worth it. And the reaction he gets out of you by acting like an asshole only encourages him to continue.

You’d been dealing with him for too long; with no control over the matter, progressing through your formative years at school together until reaching college. And he’s been dick throughout all of it. Maybe calling him that was a little unfair—he’s never genuinely upset you, but Harry had perfected the art of annoyance and you had no time for it anymore.

Once the class is over, you scramble to escape his presence—packing up less than subtly. But Harry’s right there beside you as you walk out the door, slinging an arm over your shoulders.

“Hey, baby,” he drawls low into your ear.

You scoff and try to duck out of his grip. “Don’t call me that.”

He stays firmly put, finger daring to brush your hair behind your ear. “Why? Does it muddle your little virgin brain?”

“Harry!” You gasp, creating distance between the two of you as people filter around your bodies. He’s grinning, clearly amused with himself. “Don’t say that so loud!” You’re flustered. “And I’m not—” you don’t finish your sentence, repressing a huff. “Leave me alone.”

You’re quick to walk away but Harry refuses to let it go. “Not what, Y/N?” He plucks your bag from your shoulder and slings it over his own.

“Give me my bag back,” you demand, but his lips curl and he continues walking to your next class. “Harry!”

“What? I’m being nice,” he smiles to himself at the sound of you catching up to him.

“You’re never nice,” you argue back, refusing to lose.

“And why’s that?”

Your brain pauses. You have no valid answer. “You—you’re annoying.” Heat floods your face at the juvenile admittance.

“Would an annoying person carry your bag to your next class?” He questions, resting his arm around your shoulders again. You huff and squirm a little but eventually just let Harry get his way. He seems far too pleased with himself for your liking. “Thought not.”

You settle in under his arm and begrudgingly let him lead you. He could take you anywhere, you suppose—and maybe you’d let him if it meant he would ease up on the teasing.

“Okay, thanks Harry,” you say begrudgingly, “but give it back now.” You’re standing outside of the classroom with minutes before your lecturer arrives.

He hums, “Only if you thank me properly.”

“What? Just give it back,” you’re holding your hand out expectantly.

Harry gives it a dismissive glance. “I only accept thanks in the form of kisses,” his eyes narrow with mischief and he turns his face a little, presenting his cheek.

“I’m not kissing you, Harry!” You hiss. “I don’t want to.”

“I don’t believe you,” his voice is deep and smooth, like he’s switched on his seduction. “Come on, just one. And then I’ll know you really mean it when you thank me.”

You stare at him in disbelief, look at his cheek and the way his skin has become rosy. You consider telling him you don’t mean it but… It’s just a peck, you think with deliberation. If it means he’ll give your bag back. He doesn’t bend down so you push up, hands on his shoulders, and leave a soft kiss on the apple of his cheek. Your lips depart with a gentle noise and Harry bites his lip in a smile. The first time you think you’ve ever seen him shy.

Wordlessly, he hands your bag over and you walk into the classroom, him trailing you like a dopey puppy. This time he takes the seat directly next to you, and you can’t help but think his swooning silence and shining eyes is what’s making your heart beat faster.

Maybe he’s not so annoying.

sleepover tag!

#cherryjuiceblues sleepover #blurb night #harry styles blurbs #writing #harry styles imagines #frat!harry #fratrry #harry styles x reader #harry concept #concept

633 notes · View notes

cherryjuiceblues · 1 year

Note

could you write something about best friend harry putting drunk reader to bed??😣😣 like removing her makeup and trying to lay her down nice and Gentle☹️

✰ bestfriend!harry no warnings.

He's been keeping an eye on you all night, despite having to host in his own house, making sure you never crossed the line from euphoric drunk to desolate drunk and started sobbing on all of your friends. Harry’s always been attentive like that—the more observant of the two in your friendship. And he’s more than happy to be, especially in moments like these, as the last of his guests are starting to make their way out and you’re sitting cross-legged on the sofa; head in the clouds with a blissed out smile on your face.

“You had a good night, pet?” Harry perches beside you, a large, warm palm encircling your knee.

Your head turns to him slowly—a shine in your eyes as you take him in—almost as if you had forgotten he was here with you and are pleasantly surprised to see him. “Yeah,” you breathe, smile dopey. Harry squeezes your knee, a far more sober and endeared smile on his face.

“Guest room’s all set up f’you.” You sit up slightly at the idea of going to bed, the alcohol in your system having traded your previous animation for drowsiness.

“Didn’t wanna share w’me?” You pout, standing up and gripping the shoulder of Harry’s shirt to steady yourself. Harry’s cuddles are a craving you can’t hide when you aren't sober; slightly more meek about initiating them on most occasions.

Harry stands up with you, gentle hands resting on your biceps before turning you around and guiding you to the bathroom. “Not tonight, babe. You drool when you’re drunk.”

You whip around the best you can, gasping, “I do not!” and Harry receives a harsh prod to his chest that he covers with his hand with a small, heyyy.

“You can brush your teeth alone for that.”

When you emerge from the bathroom, minty and dressed in much more comfortable sleepwear, you see Harry waiting for you on the guest bed. You make your way over with a dreamy expression and heavily plonk yourself down, bouncing the bed, sitting on your knees and facing his side.

The makeup remover is cold on your face and Harry sighs affectionately when you squirm under his grip. “Stay still, pet. I don’t want to blind you,” he murmurs, with your toiletry bag on his lap.

“But you’re hurting me—ouch—ow!” Giggling at your own theatrics and Harry rolls his eyes, hand at the back of your head angling you just right so he can wipe at your eyes. His shirt is scrunched up in your hands as you try to relax into his ministrations, heart full despite being near asleep. “Love you, Harry,” you mumble, aching to hug him now. “You’re th’best friend ever. Best person ever, actually.”

Harry smiles, admiring your shut eyes and clean face. “I am,” he says as he dots cream onto your skin and rubs it in tenderly. “Love you too.” You peel your eyes open and are sure you see a glimpse of a halo around his fluffy hair.

Hands that are gripping his shirt slide up and around his neck, pulling you both down and into the sheets. Your head lands just shy of the pillow and Harry hoists you up slightly, tugging the covers out from underneath you and drawing them to the side. Despite being dozy, your arms are tight around him and you sigh happily into his collarbone when he lets himself drop down slightly, one of his hands coming up to pet at your hair. You inhale deeply and feel yourself drift further and further, no stress or anxiety present in any part of your body. Harry’s legs are twisted awkwardly off the side of the bed, and your feet are draped across his thighs, but he wouldn’t dare try and move.

As your breathing evens out and your arms gravitate towards the mattress Harry brings them down softly, unhooking your hand from his neck when it fights to stay—even in sleep. You frown slightly and turn on your side, burying your face into the pillow that smells of Harry’s detergent, legs curling up. He brings the sheets over your body and tucks you in with care, before dropping a light kiss to your temple. When he leans back your lips are turned upwards and Harry’s heart flutters a little—but also schemes with all the different ways he can tease you about your reaction to his affection when you wake up disgruntled in the morning.

And as he settles into his own bed, exhaustion takes over and his body melts with a warmth that can only be caused by the deepest of love.

#cherryjuiceblues sleepover #blurb night #harry styles #writing #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fanfiction #bestfriend!harry #bestfriendrry #harry concept #harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #concept

431 notes · View notes

cherryjuiceblues · 1 year

Note

For the sleepover!!

What about something like reader helping Harry paint his nails and vice versa? Just random kisses, accidentally spilling nail polish and taking hours to choose colours🥺🥺

✰ boyfriend!harry no warnings.

“You’re killing me, darling,” Harry calls from the living room. “Just wanna get pampered, what’s taking you so long?” You laugh to yourself at his melodramatics, as you finish gathering all the things you need to pamper him properly.

“I’m coming!” You call back, voice playfully annoyed.

Harry is sitting cross-legged on the sofa with his head resting on the back whilst he waits for you. When you plonk yourself down next to him, he rolls his head in your direction and flashes you smile. “Finally.” He wiggles his fingers that rest on his knees.

“Come on then, Mr. Impatient. Turn to me.” You bring your legs up too and you sit facing him, mirroring one another. Harry leans in quickly and captures your mouth in a sweet kiss. When he pulls back with an exaggerated mwah!, you can’t help but let out a giggle. Holding his hands you ask, “What colours do you want?” gesturing to the makeup bag full of nail polishes sat between you.

As he tries to decide, you focus on cleaning up his cuticles—a process that Harry begrudgingly lets you do (“Do you really need to bother?” to which you sigh and say, “Do you want me to do your nails or not?”). “I’m not good at picking,” he mumbles, free hand rummaging and making the glass clink together.

“Well you have ten fingers,” you point out. “So lots of opportunity.”

He frowns, “Hey, don’t make fun of me. This is a hard choice…” he pauses when he finds a soft shade of green. “I think this would look really pretty on you.”

You hum, agreeing. “I do like that colour.”

Suddenly he sits up straighter. “Can I paint yours, actually? I wanna put this on you,” he asks, eyes apologetic as you stop your ministrations on his cuticles.

“What’s the rush? I can do yours first, if you like.”

“I’ll mess them up,” Harry admits sheepishly.

So you end up treating your own nails first, cleaning them up whilst Harry sets the green polish aside and continues trying to pick colours for himself. His painting process isn’t as professional as yours, he’ll admit—having to clean up mistakes on nearly every nail. But he refrains from commenting on it, and you find his concentration rather endearing; the way he’s taking so much care over it, holding your hand daintily in his large palm. The seafoam green dries pretty on your nails—you think about the way it matches Harry’s eyes.

And when he’s finished, he sits back looking ever so proud, it makes you lean over and sponge your lips to his. Harry melts into you for a moment but then parts with a gasp—

“—Careful baby, I put my heart and soul into this paintjob!” Despite having nearly let a green drip stain your knee during his process.

You smile, pushing another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I know. Thank you, I love them.”

“My turn now?” Harry can’t hide his excitement. He’s chosen a tender lilac that you already know will look so delicate on his nails.

You nod. “You only want one colour?” Harry considers it for a moment, and then picks up the green he’s just used on you.

“Maybe I’ll have this on my middle and ring fingers.” You smile, nodding again, and Harry captures your mouth in his as you both grin against each other. There’s nothing particular about this moment that has your hearts all mushy—maybe just the complete solace with one another.

“Okay,” you pull away slowly, “hands to yourself now, H, this is a serious operation.”

Harry gives you a small salute before you pull his hand into your own, unscrewing the polish and starting to paint the lilac onto his thumb. He watches you with his face resting in his other hand, wide-eyed and smitten; his turn now to admire the concentration on your face and your much-less-messy application.

Once you’ve finished with one hand and silently ask for his other, Harry leans in, muttering. “Kiss first.” You sigh but kiss him easily, careful to keep ahold of his freshly painted hand so he doesn’t thread it into your hair (he’s done it before).

And maybe you get lost in kisses for longer than anticipated but Harry is sure to have his other hand painted like the spoiled princess you claim him to be.

sleepover tag!

#harry styles #harry styles blurbs #cherryjuiceblues sleepover #blurb night #harry styles x reader #soft!harry #softrry #harry styles imagines #writing #harry concept #hopeluna #concept

508 notes · View notes

cherryjuiceblues · 1 year

Note

PLEASE sub!harry

✰ sub!harry sexual content. m receiving oral. minors dni.

Harry is tugging on your hand. He has been for the past ten minutes… but you’re trying to have a civilised conversation with your boss and you’re quickly losing your cool—something you can’t exactly afford to do.

He’s standing to the side of you, fingers swallowing your own and, if you’re being honest, he’s been pretty patient the whole night. Your boss isn’t the most entertaining of people and for Harry to have come with you tonight is sweet. But the fondness wears off when his innocent hand holding turns into squeezing and subtle pulling; attention long since lost after your boss had become enraptured in a topic of conversation that would bore anyone and everyone, Harry’s sure of it.

So he’d become distracted at some point, droning out the monotonous drivel and casting his mind elsewhere. You. And his thoughts aren’t even particularly filthy, which is all the more embarrassing, as Harry gets lost in the smell of your hair, and the thought of your eyes rounding out when he compliments you, and the feel of your palm in his.

But it seems it doesn’t matter what he’s thinking of because now he’s hard. He’s really hard and it’s clouding his mind as the once soft stroking of the back of your hand becomes urgent—and he’s trying so hard to keep a straight face but it hurts and he doesn’t know where this sudden tenacity has come from. All he knows is that he needs you. Attention from you, help from you, anything.

So when your boss somehow, miraculously, stops talking and is distracted by something across the room, Harry is so relieved he feels his eyes water without control. He tries to blink the tears away as you face him with an unsettling expression on your face.

“What is your problem, baby?” You ask pointedly, failing to register the spacey look that contorts his features.

Your tone of voice has Harry’s lip jutting out and his waterline filling up quickly. “I really need you,” his quiet voice wobbles.

Concern widens your eyes. “Oh no, baby, why are you crying?” You lift a hand up to his cheek and brush under his eye but his face only crumples more, a deep flush painting his skin.

“I was thinking about you, and it hurts.” The embarrassment replaces his teariness as he knuckles at his eyes and hides his face in his hands.

“What hurts, honey?” You’re gentle, brushing his hair away from his forehead and tugging it slightly to lift his head. “Tell me.”

You’re less than impressed as you pull him along to the toilets. Harry’s heartbeat is racing and deep down he feels bad for disrupting your evening, but he doesn’t have the resolve to deal with it himself like a big boy—instead letting you press him against the now locked door and trail your palm down his chest.

“I’m not sure you deserve this, baby,” you kiss underneath his chin. “Brought you along to my work-do and you’re acting up. Trying to embarrass me?” You ask.

Harry shakes his head in a panic. “No! Of course not. I’m sorry, Y/N, I—” he breathes in shallowly as your finger dances across the line of his zipper; too light to feel a thing.

“You what? Tell me what you were thinking about.”

“Just you,” he sighs, head falling back against the door when your palm rests against his bulge. His jeans are so tight you think you can see the outline of his head, but you could be imagining it. “Just you, I need you.”

“Isn’t that romantic,” you mock, squeezing him and feeling warmth spread in between your thighs as Harry lets out a whimper from his pretty, wet lips. “Just me?” He nods fervently. “Just need me so bad that your cock started swelling?”

“Yes,” he whines, pushing his hips into your hand. He can’t help but drop a palm over your own and squeeze it harder, begging you to touch him more. “Please, baby. Need t’come so bad.”

You hum and press another kiss to wherever you can reach, underneath his jaw. “But you haven’t been a good boy,” you pout and Harry’s dick twitches underneath your hand. It makes you want to give him everything.

“I’m sorry,” his face scrunches up, flushed skin hot to the touch as you trace your thumb across his bottom lip. “It hurts, baby please.” You open his mouth and he wraps his lips around your thumb without hesitation, bleary eyes meeting yours in the most desperate of begging. It’s something you’re not strong enough to ignore as you pop the button and unzip his jeans, pulling them down just enough to free his weepy cock from his already sticky boxers.

The noise Harry makes is high, and grateful, and he only makes more as you wrap your fingers around him and stroke generously. He’s heavy and hot as you smear the precome around his tip, dipping into the slit to elicit a twitch and a delayed moan from Harry. He’s loud enough that you have to remove your thumb from his mouth and press your whole palm against it, muffling the sounds that are spilling from him. Your own body is taut with heat, tingles blooming throughout your limbs as you work Harry closer and closer.

You squeeze his cheeks together with your hand. “Beg me to let you come in my mouth,” you breathe, smearing another kiss to his chin.

Harry’s tears tip over and his brows furrow in the most blissed out way. “Oh—please baby, please. I’ll be so good, you’re so lovely. I love you, please please please—” you crouch down and pull him into your mouth, in no mood for preamble, and Harry stuffs his own fingers in between his teeth to muffle the most lecherous sound you think you’ve ever heard him make. You suck, and lather your tongue along the underside, and twist whatever you can’t fit in your mouth with your hand—and Harry’s trying so hard to keep his hips still but they buck slightly into you, and you let him, hands gripping tight into his waist underneath his shirt. “I’m gonna—”

You hum around him and Harry’s head bangs against the door as his eyes roll back and he’s whimpering “Yesyesyes—” as you feel hot spurts coating the back of your throat. You keep your mouth on him, gently holding until he comes back down from cloud nine and whines when you pull off. You swallow all of his release and hold out your tongue—Harry leans down to sponge a filthy kiss against it before sucking you into his mouth, tasting himself. He pulls back just enough to utter a thank you, and then presses kiss after kiss to your lips in nothing but gratitude, curling his hands into your hair.

You smile. “That’s more like the good boy I know.”

#cherryjuiceblues sleepover #blurb night #harry styles #writing #harry styles blurbs #sub!harry #subrry #harry styles smut #harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #harry concept #concept

308 notes · View notes