#harry blurbs
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Can we have another breeding blurb miss jars? Please please pleaseeee
Hm. Yes you may because you asked nicely 😚
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Fair warning this is pure filth! straight up.. idk what just possessed me
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“Just lay there.” He grunted, watching in awe as his cock stretched the puffy lips of her slick cunt open, the thickness of him making her shiver slightly. “And let me fuck my cum into you.”
He had already given her his load, but that wasn’t enough. No, he had to make sure it stayed there. “Let Daddy help it stick. Let me get it deep.” He was so deep Y/N could feel it in her stomach, but she wasn’t about to complain.” Such a cute, messy little pussy…” he cooed, thumb brushing the swollen clit that buzzed with sensitivity. At her whine, her hips bucked up and pushed his cock further in making the pair inhale sharply. “Oh, she’s sensitive, hm? Only came one time f’me.” He clicked his tongue. “Still achy from last night?”
Harry was a man on a mission when it came to getting Y/N pregnant. Every day, he was following the tips from books and online forums, obsessed with getting her as slick and filthy and full of his spunk as often as he could. As soon as she had uttered the sentence about ‘being ready to try for a little one’, he had been on her. Mounting her like he was in heat, insistent on trying every possible thing.
Including this. The filthy, erotic, nasty act of fucking his cum into her. Pumping his hips and burying his prick all the way inside, the slick squelch of their wet skin filling the air. Something about it made him a man possessed. His body was thrumming, balls emptied inside of her but still rearing to go.
And his love, she was so good. His best girl, laying there and whining as her watery eyes looked up at him. Almost dumb, as she always seemed to be in awe every time he filled her up, brain reduced to ash as soon as she could feel the creamy cum being worked back inside of her. All she could focus on was being good for him, helping him get her pregnant.
“D’you think it’s catching?” She slurred, messy halo of hair tangled around her head as he held her legs up against his shoulders. He sat on his knees, watching his creamy length slip back inside of her methodically. “I want a baby. I really want a baby, Daddy.” She pleaded, tightening up around him as he filled her back to the brim.
“M’working on it, sweetheart.” He crooned, eyes dark and hot as he glanced at her face before going back to his objective. “Just shut up and let me work. Tryin’ to make you a mama, and I can’t do that if y’keep running that pretty mouth.” He scolded. The tight heat of her cunt was milking every single drop of cum into her, the daily occurrence never getting old for him. He was obsessed with it, watching the mess he made and the slight froth from how wet she got and the mix of their cum. She was a bit of a cumslut and would want to keep it in her for a bit. “Should get you a proper plug to keep you full. Hm? Think M’gonna do it.” He mumbled. “My pussy anyways, isn’t it? I can do whatever I want to it and you’ll just cry for my cum. My sweet little baby.” Harry loved her so much, but there was a special type of love that came when they got dirty like this. Intimate.
She was a good girl, deciding to stay quiet but nodding insistently. Of course she would do it. His Love did anything he asked if it led to this- just like he did for her. He could feel the messy mix start to drip down his balls, the sac wet and slightly sticky as it lazily thumped against her ass. The pulsing slowed, but he was using her hole to empty every drop. “Don’t worry, baby. As soon as you’re pregnant, I’ll let you swallow it again. Know how much you love it, but I can’t waste a single drop when m’trying to get you full of our baby.” He smoothed her hair back, looking at her sweaty face with tenderness. “My perfect girl.”
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in sickness and in health
Summary: Harry takes care of y/n while she's sick.
Words: 1,000+
Warnings: Mostly fluff!
Y/N groaned as she slowly blinked her eyes open, her head pounding and her throat feeling raw and scratchy. She reached for the box of tissues on her nightstand, wincing at the movement. As she blew her nose, the bedroom door creaked open.
"Morning, love," came Harry's soft voice. He padded in, a tray laden with toast, orange juice, and a steaming mug of tea balanced carefully in his hands. "Brought you some breakfast."
"Harry..." Y/N croaked out, her voice little more than a whisper. "You didn't have to do that."
He shook his head, setting the tray down on the nightstand. "Of course I did. You're sick as a dog, babe." Harry perched on the edge of the bed, his hand coming up to brush her sweat-damp hair back from her forehead. "Looks like that nasty flu is really doing a number on you."
Y/N managed a weak smile, nuzzling into his touch. "I feel horrible."
"I know, sweetheart." Harry's thumb stroked her flushed cheek tenderly. "But I'm going to take care of you, okay? We'll get you feeling better in no time."
Leaning down, he pressed a lingering kiss to her clammy forehead before reaching for the mug of tea. "Here, drink some of this. The honey should help soothe your throat."
Y/N took a careful sip, the warm liquid coating her raw throat. She sighed in relief. "That's nice. Thank you, Haz."
"Of course, my love." Harry picked up a piece of dry toast from the tray. "Think you can manage a few bites? You need to keep your strength up."
Obediently, Y/N nibbled on the toast as Harry fussed over plumping up her pillows and layering an extra blanket over her shivering form. He clucked his tongue sympathetically at her pale, clammy appearance.
"I've got some cold medicine for you to take too. That should help with the aches and chills."
True to his word, Harry retrieved a dose of flu medication, holding it out along with a glass of cool water. Y/N swallowed it down gratefully.
"Such a good girl," Harry praised, stroking her hair again. "Now, I want you to try and get some more rest, okay? I'll be just down the hall if you need anything at all."
Y/N caught his hand as he made to stand. "Wait... Could you stay with me for a bit?"
Harry's eyes softened. "Of course, darling. Budge over."
He slid under the covers, gathering Y/N's shivering form into his arms. She burrowed against his chest, breathing in the comforting scent of his cologne and letting it soothe her frazzled senses.
Harry pressed a kiss to her hair, rubbing her back soothingly. "Just relax and rest up, okay? I'm right here."
Y/N nodded, allowing her eyes to drift shut. She felt so safe and cared for wrapped in Harry's embrace. Despite feeling utterly miserable from her illness, having him there to look after her made it so much better.
Several hours later, she awoke feeling marginally less feverish - though her head was still pounding. Harry stirred beside her, ever attentive.
"Hey there, sleeping beauty," he murmured. "How are you feeling?"
Y/N sniffled pitifully. "A little better, I think. But my head is killing me."
"Hang on, let me get you a cool cloth for your forehead." In a flash, Harry was out of bed and heading for the en-suite bathroom.
He returned with a damp washcloth, gently draping it over Y/N's feverish brow. She sighed in relief at the delicious coolness against her pounding head.
"Thank you, baby. That feels heavenly."
Harry smiled, tenderly brushing her hair back. "I love taking care of my best girl. Are you hungry at all? I could whip up some chicken soup."
At the thought of food, Y/N's stomach roiled queasily. "Maybe just some more tea and dry toast for now?"
"You got it." Harry leaned in, dropping a featherlight kiss on her chapped lips. "I'll be right back with your tea, sweet thing."
True to his word, Harry returned a few minutes later with a fresh mug of piping hot tea and a couple pieces of dry buttered toast. He helped Y/N sit up against the mountain of pillows before passing her the mug.
"Careful, it's hot," he cautioned unnecessarily.
Y/N rolled her eyes fondly. "Yes, Dad."
Harry chuckled, taking a seat next to her on the bed and offering her a piece of toast. As she picked at the bread, he pulled her feet into his lap, gently massaging the soles.
"Mmm," Y/N hummed in appreciation. "You're too good to me."
"Nonsense. I'm just being a good boyfriend and taking care of my girl when she needs me." Harry winked playfully. "Afterall, I'll need you to return the favor when I inevitably catch this flu from you."
Y/N laughed weakly. "Deal."
For the rest of the day, Harry fussed over Y/N - keeping her hydrated, fetching her books and magazines to read, and just sitting by her side with his arms wrapped securely around her. She couldn't have asked for a better nurse.
As evening fell, Harry brought Y/N a fresh mug of hot tea, laced with honey and lemon. "Here, drink up. Should help that scratchy throat of yours."
"You're too good to me," Y/N said again, cradling the mug gratefully.
Harry shook his head seriously. "Never. You deserve the world, my love." He leaned in, kissing her forehead tenderly. "I'm just trying to give it to you."
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
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It’s Pronounced ‘Breasts’
in which Harry gets embarrassed and Angel Baby goes to the Grammys.
im back agaaainnnn
“What’d she just say?”
There’s nothing he wants to do more than to succumb to the belly laugh that’s bubbling in his throat. With a hot face, breath held and eyes practically watering he manages to ward it off. Not because he actually wants to, but because he glanced over at you; mouth agape in horror, eyes blown real wide in unison.
You did not think it was funny. At all.
There’s a pudgy, proud-faced toddler sat adjacent from you both; hair spilling down her back in thick waves with a neatly tied bow a-top her head, cheeks rosy and flush as her round baby face starts contorting in amusement. Harry’s team is swallowing their chuckles, eyes boggling each other to silently confirm the word that just flew from your daughter’s mouth.
That very familiar shit-eating grin she inherited (from Harry, not you, and you never let him live it down) was touted confidently. The only person who wanted Harry to unleash that laugh more than he did was angel baby.
“Maybe we misheard ‘er?” he has to choke the words out to shoo off his giggle.
And he sucks in a breath when the back of your hand roughly collides with the side of his arm, not long followed by a very unkind side eye. You mutter something under your breath, something he couldn’t quite make out entirely but well-versed enough to know it was nothing nice.
“Baby,” your voice is soft as you lock in on angel baby, but stern enough so that your point hits home as best it can for the barely 1 year old, “that’s a no no word, ok? That is not nice.”
There’s no way you don’t find it funny, he thinks. It’s a little funny. Especially because angel baby isn’t quite processing what the big deal is. She’s just sat sweetly, eyes doe-like and unbeknownst. And when you open your mouth to say something again, you’re interrupted by a squeaky little voice that confirms you absolutely did not mishear her.
“Titties!”
At this point Harry just cuts loose. It’s a gut-ripping laugh that he couldn’t hold down after angel baby doubled down. What ensues is laughter from everyone else in the room. Because, well, Harry’s laughing was the only green light they needed.
Your face, flushed with a dangerous combination of embarrassment and irritation, sends Harry a warning look amidst your quick reach to pick up angel baby. She squeals pleasingly once she takes notice to how she managed to get daddy’s sides splitting, on top of the collective few still bold enough to laugh. There’s nothing angel baby loves more than an audience, a character trait she undoubtedly gets from her father.
The tone in your voice as you reprimand the toddler is enough to give Harry the magnitude of the lecture he’s sure he’ll get about it later, but undoubtedly worth the risk. Angel baby, at the ripe age of 1 years old, can’t grasp the gravity of the issue either.
“G’head and laugh,” your lamenting is just white noise to him at this point, “enable it like it’s not inappropriate!”
Perched precociously on your hip, grin prominent as ever with dazzled eyes, Harry only guffaws harder at the fact angel baby is pleased with the rise she's gotten out of everyone. Especially you.
“Can y’blame her” he mewls standing up, finger going to brush a few face-framing curls from her eyes, “m’honestly thinking th’same, you in that dress n’all. ”
He coos in adoration at the baby on your hip because, honestly, there’s next to nothing she can do or say to get him to see her as anything other than an absolute angel. And he wiggles his eyebrows at you, paying an ode to the cleavage adoring your chest.
“Christ, Harry,” you groan, apologizing to the collective of people stifling chuckles, “can you just back me up here?”
“Y’right,” he admits in unison with a head nod, clearing his throat before forcing himself to get serious “Button, it’s not polite t’say that.”
And, though the moment is incredibly fleeting, you feel a sense of relief that Harry’s managed to see your point. It’s short lived in the most humbling way.
“It’s pronounced breasts, m’love.”
A groan comes tumbling out of you before you hobble off, angel baby giggling as she catches Harry doubling over in laughter again. You mouth a quiet fuck you to him from the door, neck arched to turn your head to glance at him behind you, before following his assistant out of the bedroom and down the hallway.
“M’sorry,” his voice is distant, though he's scurrying to catch up, “c’mon it was too easy!”
He’s mumbling apologies to you, though they’re often stunted by laughter, for the bulk of the evening. And on the red carpet, he can feel his face get hot. Not from the assortment of cameras and flashes, or people yelling his name, but from the toddler clad in designer adorning his hip. Because as he goes to kiss her cheek for a photo, she whispers her newfound word of the day in his ear.
“Daddy,” and her smirk is awe’d at by groups of people, “titties.”
His lips pucker to avoid laughter because, for starters, she’s not a skilled whisperer. So of course, you’re close enough in ear shot to overhear. There’s no way you’ll fold to anger on the red carpet at the Grammy’s, but you’ll fold to it as soon as you get him alone. And while, ok yes, it’s pretty funny when she says it, he’s realizing his 1 year old has a newfound affinity for boobs.
“Maybe y’were right,” his voice is hushed as he leans closer to you at the table, “y’know, ‘bout the thing earlier, at th’house.”
They’re announcing album of the year, and the two of you wave gleefully when the camera twirls to give viewers a shot of him as one of the nominees, so he’s trying to be as demure as humanly possible. But once that camera wanders elsewhere, you seep your smile but the tone is serious through gritted teeth,
“You broke it,” and you smile again when they open the winner’s envelope, “you fix it.”
He goes to say something else while adjusting angel baby on his lap, but he’s abrupt cut off. A wave of cheers and celebratory back pats ensue promptly after his name is read off. And you can compartmentalize, so you stand up and pocket the discussion to congratulate him with a kiss. With angel baby sandwiched between you, he bounces her up and down before planting her back to his side before he starts his trek on stage.
You’re too wrapped up in the excitement, the overcoming proud feeling that’s absolutely permeating the table, to fully digest the fact he’s toted angel baby up on stage to accept his award alongside him. In fact, it’s not until he’s halfway through his speech that you notice.
“And of course,” he wins a room full of coos bouncing the giggly baby on his hip, “m’little co-writer ‘ere. A real way with words, this little one. Say g’night, peach!”
Hand to God, on everything you love, at no point did you think Harry bringing angel baby on stage would go awry. Naturally, you had your reservations; big room of people, an abundance of cameras,
With her hair falling past her shoulders, grin a mile wide and cheeks rosy as she puts her mouth just above the mic, she breaths right into it, “titties!”
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here's a blurb about 2014 y/n and harry getting freaky in the shower and then niall walks in and realizes you're in there together
warning: hand stuff
"You're so pretty," he hummed to you, hand cupping your cheek.
"I love you," you smiled up at him.
He smiled back and leaned down, mumbling against your lips, "I love you too."
His lips molded against yours, tongue slipping out and tasting you. The hot water ran across your and Harry's skin, melting away the chaos that came with joining Harry and the boys on tour. It was fun, but it was stressful. This was one of the rare moments you had Harry all to yourself and you were cherishing it.
Your arms were wrapped around his neck, your pink, painted fingernails running through his wet locks and massaging his scalp. Your lips continued to move against his as he deepened your kisses, His hands began to roam your naked body, feeling every inch of your soft skin.
His hands soon moved south and cupped your bum, squeezing it tightly. You felt your abdomen tighten with excitement before you whispered desperately to your boyfriend, "Touch me."
"Gladly," he smirked against your lips, his right hand moving towards your front and landing exactly where you want him to be.
His fingers moved back and forth across your clit, exactly the way that he's learned you like. You hummed against his lips in acknowledgment that you enjoyed it, now gripping onto his locks as the knot in your stomach began to tighten.
His free hand grabbed onto your thigh, lifting it onto his waist for better access to you. You held onto each other tightly, keeping you in position as his fingers began to move lower. He easily slipped two fingers in and you couldn't help the moan that left your lips. He began thrusting his fingers in and out of you, curling them up with each entrance.
His fingers were magical. He knew all the right spots to push you over the edge and you knew it wouldn't be long before you were trying to resist the urge to scream his name while he made you release.
All of the sudden, you heard the door open and Niall's thick accent fill the bathroom, "Harry?"
Both of your bodies stilled, eyes widening and heartbeats racing as Harry quickly replied, "what?"
"Paul needs us downstairs for a meeting."
"'bout what?" he replied, gently and quietly slipping his fingers out of you and urging you on both feet again.
"No fuckin' clue."
"Okay, I'll be there in 10," he answered.
"And where's Y/N? I didn't see 'er in the room." Niall asked curiously.
"Erm, sh-she's," he made a panicked face at you as you tried to urge him to come up with a quick excuse but he failed, stifling a giggle, "erm, she's in..."
"Jesus," Niall fake gagged as soon as he spotted your clothes on the bathroom floor, "she's in there with you, oh my god."
The door immediately slammed shut and Harry erupted into laughter and you wanted to actually die of embarrassment.
"Harry, what the hell is wrong with you!" you scolded, "why didn't you just say I went to get food or something?"
"I dunno, I blanked," he replied, giggles still erupting from his lips.
"Oh my gosh, that's so embarrassing. I can't ever leave this room ever again. Poor Niall's probably scarred for life."
"Oh he's fine, he didn't see anything," he grinned, before pulling you into him again and caressing you, "come kiss me"
"No, I'm getting out," you replied, pushing him off of you and beginning to step out of the shower.
"Baby, c'mon," he urged, continuing to giggle at the events that just happened prior.
"Nope. Mood ruined."
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how do you think new gf y/n would react to harry having olivia tattooed on his thigh?
i… think it would go like this 🤭
wrote this in 15 mins! if it sucks deal with it <3 missed you. enjoy!
very small amounts of sexual content under the cut!! teeheeee
“Fuck, y’so perfect f’me,” Harry groaned out, eyes clenched shut as Y/N rubbed over his clothed cock, her hands clenched in fists in his hair, fingers entwined in the chocolatey brown curls.
“Feels so good, baby,” she whines kittenishly, not slowing her ministrations, hips moving in tandem with his own which bucked up ever so slightly.
“Take it off, mama. Need t’feel you,” He begged, grasping her hips to lift her off of him. Silencing her whine from the loss of friction with his lips, he traced the seam of her lips with his tongue, a soft breath leaving his lips and cooling her own. Granting him access, she angled her tongue upwards, his tongue following hers, tracing the tip of hers with his own. Y/N moved her legs off of Harry’s thighs, moving to push her shorts down her legs, not breaking their lips once. Harry soon followed after her, pushing his jeans down his legs.
Now clad in nothing but their undergarments, Y/N in a small tank top and Harry shirtless, she traced his body with her eyes, fully taking into account the fact that this was her first time seeing him as bare as he was at that moment. She wanted nothing more than to sink down to her knees and get him in her mouth, all the while admiring his body, but she knew they wouldn’t get that far today.
Sitting in front of him on her knees, his legs spread around her, she watched him with a matching look in her eyes, pupils blown and dilated, the color barely there anymore. Following his figure until she made eye contact with the ferns, she took her gaze a little lower until she got just to the tops of his thighs, admiring the tiger tattoo on his left thigh before looking to his right, a gasp getting caught in her throat.
“No fucking way,” She gasped, leaning forward onto her elbows, looking at the tattoo that so blatantly said ‘Olivia’, just written on his thigh.
“Um.” Was all he said, and she looked up at him bewildered.
“Oh my god. Baby, you’re such a whore.” She giggled, tracing the cursive ‘O’ with her index fingertip. “No, like this is really insane, I can’t believe you never told me you got her name tattooed.”
“Y’not… mad?” He said confused, pushing himself up to get a better look at his pretty angel.
“No, I mean— a little? But I get it, I think. I don’t really know what’s happened between you two, but… I think I get it. Moreso disappointed that you didn’t tell me about this like, yesterday, but, it’s whatever.” She sighed, resting her cheek on his right thigh.
“I can’t… believe y’not mad,” He mumbled, still staring at her cautiously.
“Do you want me to be mad?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
“No! I- no, ‘M jus’ confused, I guess.” He muttered slowly.
“I can be mad if you want, baby. Want me to get all upset? Claim you as mine?” She purred, climbing up his body to her previous spot, the heat from her clothed pussy warming his cock that was begging to be freed. A hand in his hair and the other around his throat, she pulled his head back, exposing his jaw to her. Leaning down and placing a few kisses onto the expanse of his jaw to his earlobe, she slowly applied pressure until she felt and heard the animalistic whine that left her boyfriend.
“I’ll claim you as mine, then make sure that you know you’re my slut, bet you want that? Don’t you?” She whispered into his ear, still placing butterfly kisses to his ear.
“Yeah, I want that, baby, so bad. Make me yours.” He folded, completely at her mercy.
“I will.”
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Fifty Shades who? (ಥ‿ಥ This is not Fifty Shades. I promise he’s not a psychopath.)
Teaser for the third part of TDIAG
It becomes a routine for the two of them — she’ll show up at her usual time, a little after his own arrival, and he’ll reserve the room.
The fourth time, Eros books the room in advance, so by the time Isla turns up, a staff member is letting her know within only a handful of steps into the lounge that her room is ready. And the funny thing is, despite the circumstance of Eros arriving to the club before her, Isla always finds herself in the room of the night first, kneeling patiently in waiting for his ceremonial, climactic arrival. He doesn’t keep her waiting long. And when he does show, the pair shed their work weeks, the pressures and burdens of the outside world, their clothes. Well. Isla discards her own. Sometimes, with his helping hand, if she asks very nicely. The dominant always meticulously stays dressed, clad with his signature mask and his trademark, pleather gloves, (pleather, she’d learned, not authentic leather, when the topic had come up during a touchy, soft session of aftercare), always along with his commonplace, tailored slacks, a dress shirt, lavish shoes. He’ll unease the first few buttons of the shirt, where glimpses of inky beaks catch her eye and leave her wondering what other illustrations lay beneath, etched into his skin. But that’s as far as he ever goes to disrobe. He does cruel, vicious, filthy things to her, tearing her apart by the seams, and after, he sews her aplomb back together with gentle touches and soft coos. She looks forward to those ravenous Friday nights with her mysterious Eros.
Tonight is still Thursday night. Unfortunately.
Unfortunately, unfortunately, unfortunately.
It’s Thursday night and unfortunately, the self-check out lane is incredibly stalled. The droll sounds of scanners beeping and Katy Perry’s TGIF leaking softly from the overhead speakers infiltrate Isla’s ears as she zones out. It’s like an unpleasant, forced reverie. Under the bright, fluorescent lighting, she can see that the man ahead of her in line showcases a plumber’s crack that peeks from skinny jeans that hang a smidge too low. So the young woman looks about, everywhere but ahead. He’s wearing a belt, too, is the thing. Grocery stores are truly human zoos.
She’s still in work wear — a pencil skirt, heels, and she holds her basket close as she bites into her cheek and waits. A slow step forward.
“That’s a lot of cherries.”
Isla turns. The man behind her is tall, attractive. She blinks. If his sculpted features, lightly moussed, coiled hair, and striking gaze hadn’t already bewitched her into a wordless stare, the way he plucks and eats grapes, straight off the vine, straight from the bag, in the self checkout lane like an absolute maniac, would.
She casts her gaze to her basket. There’s a variety of items on her buy-list, like a lone jar of salsa and …some unsightly, extra absorbent tampons — anyways, why is this stranger ogling the contents of her basket? There are, in fact, three plastic carts of cherries, stacked, which take up the majority of the space.
She clears her throat, “Yeah there was, a, uh. Discount.”
“Was there?”
She’s still staring obnoxiously, and the man seems to catch on. He swallows the grape his strawberry mouth had closed around, lips curling softly as he expels a vague explanation, “I missed my lunch.”
She purses her lips slightly, head tipping forwards in an understanding nod, and attempts to ease her way into politely disengaging back into that aimless stare ahead. She can’t do it. She just can’t force herself to manually avoid scrutinizing Baldo’s crack in the impending foreground. Anyways, the intrusive stranger is certainly easier on the eyes.
“That’s a — uh. A lot of grapes,” Isla tells him after a beat.
“Is it, really? D’you think?” The attractive stranger moves the back in his obnoxiously large palm as if weighing it contemplatively, “I’d say, 32 ounces, maybe. Well.”
The corners of her mouth buckle as he shoots it a sheepish glance and his pillowy mouth quirks in an obvious attempt to bridle a grin, “Less. Now.”
The laugh that Isla releases is genuine.
“Probably, like, 31,” the man nods, exhales, a laugh catching in the back of his throat at the look she gives him.
“I didn’t—“ her incredulous laughter bubbles as she pivots to face ahead, “I didn’t see anything.”
“Yes, well, perhaps you didn’t, and I appreciate that, but that lady over there is giving me a horrible look for actively shoplifting grapes,” The curly-headed brunette jests, and Isla clamps her mouth together to stifle her amusement.
“Honestly, shoplifting them with your stomach is the best thing you could have done, here.”
“You don’t reckon she’ll ask for them back?”
Isla bites into her cheek, hard, to stop herself from expelling spit all over Baldo ahead in the midst of a wrested raspberry. The stranger laughs softly, and behind her, she hears him say, “No, honestly, I should probably stop eating these things. I think they do charge by weight.”
“I think they might, yeah.”
“Well, I’ve saved myself a few good cents.”
“And — and,” Isla motions with the hand that isn’t clasped over the handle of her basket, “Satiated your hunger. Two birds with one stone, honestly.”
The man hums in agreement. She hears plastic crinkle as, she assumes, he closes the bag. A comfortable silence falls over them, then. Another slow step forward.
“I’m sorry, I have to ask,” she pivots back, a crease working between her brows, “You are just …oddly familiar. And I can’t place it, and if I don’t, it’s going to bug me for the rest of the night.”
The good-looking stranger blinks, then his expression morphs into one of deliberation. His cushiony mouth purses, and he tells her, “Well, I don’t do this,” he lifts the bag of partly-shoplifted grapes, “often.”
He breaks into soft laughter and Isla’s face twists.
“If that helps narrow anything down.”
“It’s just,” the young woman motions with her hand jerkily, her tone carrying notes of determination, “Your face. I know your face. I’ve seen it somewhere.”
His features melt into something soft, something telltale, like he knows exactly what she means just off of the vagueness of her reasoning, and the corners of his mouth curl slowly as he supplies, “Probably on a bench.”
“Yes!” Isla snaps, tone wildly expressive and pleased to scratch the itch, “A bench! With your face. For…”
“Selling houses,” the stranger supplies helpfully. Another step forward.
“Selling houses! Yes. That’s it. I pass a bench with your face on it, like, every morning, on the way to work,” Isla waves with her arm, “I see your face all the time,” she clears her throat, her voice dying off. She takes a deep breath then tells him, with genuine gratitude interlacing the syllables, “Thank you. That was literally going to bug me all night long.”
There’s mirth weaved in the alluring man’s cast, and a haughty tinge, if she’s not mistaken, “My pleasure.” Before she’s taken it upon herself to turn back around, satisfied by simply unearthing the answer, he tells her, “I’m obligated to ask, actually, do you happen to be on the market?”
Isla blinks.
“To buy or sell a house?”
Another step. Baldo moves into the self check-out region from the line, a single cantaloupe wedged between his side and his arm, a pack of triple A batteries in the opposite hand.
“It’s,” the basket shifts in her grasp, “Actually, it’s really funny you ask, because I am looking to buy a house.”
“Really?” Isla watches the grin that paints its way over the stranger's mouth — there’s hints of mischief, “Hoo-hoo, sorry, I love doing this — let me just give you my business card.”
So she waits, basket in hand, as he reaches into his pocket and unearths one of those dainty little business card-holders professional-business-people have. He cradles the bag of grapes with his arm as he uses his opposite hand to retract a sleek little card, and he hands it off to her proudly.
Harry Styles, it reads. There’s some contact information, a phone number, an email, a company name, and a rather dashing picture of him, as well.
“Thank you,” she tells him, pupils bouncing from the card to his face.
“My pleasure — I think, that check-out’s open, now, actually,” he prompts, glancing over her shoulder, and Isla twists.
“Oh! Yes, yeah.”
“And I won’t be eating any more of these, so y’don’t have to babysit me, anymore,” he jokes, gesturing with the bag of grapes.
“Yes — Yeah, no — yeah. Okay. Thank you. Yes, I will definitely look into — this,” Isla motions with the business card, slipping into an awkward sort of back-walk towards the check out, “Harry Styles.”
Dimples create little divots in his cheeks as Harry grins, “Yes, please do…”
“Isla Cleery,” the young woman supplies, caught between stalling the rest of the lane with conversation and paying for her ludicrous supply of discounted cherries.
“Isla Cleery,” Harry parrots, a rasp to his pleasant cadence. He clears his throat, stuck in the front of the line with his lone bag of dwindled grapes, “Give me a call.”
#harry styles#harry styles dirty fanfiction#harry styles dirty one shot#harry styles edit#harry styles edits#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles smut#harry styles wattpad#harry styles writing#harry styles x oc#hs edit#hs fanfic#hs one shot#harry blurb#harry blurbs#harry styles dirty imagine#anon ask#harry smut#dom harry styles#harry edits#harry edward styles#dom!harry
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Ok guys, quick small concept. (Fluff ?)
Idk what to call this a blurb or a concept. Whatever you want it to call.
°•°•°•°•
Y/n and Harry are in the kitchen baking a cake. It's her first time staying at his place for a night.
They started officially dating just ten days back. So everything is kinda new and fresh. Soft unintentional touches which may or may not be intentional, blushing and butterflies are soo prominent.
They went on few dates before, both of them cuddled and watched movies, kissed a few times but didn't have sex. They thought it's too early.
So, today Y/n is spending the night at his place and they are baking a cake, because Harry is craving one. Harry is mixing the cake batter and Y/n is melting the chocolate for the cake.
Harry dipped his index finger in the batter, brought it to his mouth and licked the batter with his tounge.
He hummed at the taste, "Y/n, this is soo good try this." He dipped his index finger again in the batter and lifted it up towards his girlfriend beside him.
She just looked at him with a speechless smile, she darted her eyes from his face to his finger.
Shit , Harry cursed internally.
He made it awkward now. They are still taking baby steps. They didn't have sex yet, they just kissed few times. Now asking her to lick or suck on his finger is a bit early or even inappropriate.
"Sorry." He said and started to move his hand back. But before he can completely retrieve his hand she grabbed his wrist.
She slowly brought his finger to her mouth, she sticked her tounge out and licked the batter on his fingers. She maintained intense eyes contact while licking his finger and he have to stop himself from moaning at the sight.
She hummed, "It's good. But I think we should add a bit of sugar to it." She gave him a smirk and left his hand and went to the cabinet to get some sugar.
Harry stood there in awe while looking at his finger. He noticed that there is still a tiny bit of batter left on his finger. So brought his finger to his again and cleaned it using his tounge with a smile on his face.
°•°•°•°•
Idk why I wrote this. But I like it a lot.
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fluff#harry edward styles#harry styles x you#harry styles concepts#harry styles concept#harry blurbs#harry styles blurbs#short concept#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot
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Concepts!
I would love to start posting harry x yn concepts so ill put some ideas below and comment on what you think pls!!
Dom! H x Sub!y/n: Y/n always wanted to try new things, but her anxiety kept her going only as far as scrolling on the newest porn sites she would find. From the outside people would think she was looking for something soft.. innocent even, and although that was most of her experiences, she wanted nothing more than the opposite.
Flower Shop owner H! x y/n: Since opening the shop harry had regulars that he adored, knowing exactly what they were wanting before it could cross their minds, picking each flower carefully and with purpose is what made his heart soar... or that is until he meets y/n. She started coming in within a few weeks of the opening, and each time she amazed him with her knowledge and a broad range of what she wanted, he could pinpoint everyone else he met except her.
College Students H & y/n (angst): High school sweethearts going to college together would worry any set of parents and friends but when it came to harry and y/n everyone just knew it was going to be different. Slight angst: stress/arguments during the transition into college, fluff too!!
Subspace H & Subspace reader: At the same time... or apart. I will not elaborate but yes this is happening no matter what.
Comment other ideas too!!
#harry blurbs#harry styles writing#harry styes smut#harry fanfic#dom!harry#subspace!reader#subspace!harry#collegeharry#fem! harry styles#boyfriend!harry#mommy kink! harry styles#daddy! harry
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Sleeping after an argument
mattheo riddle x reader
Summary : you decided not to sleep with him after an argument
In the dimness of his room, you sit on the edge of the bed, your heart heavy with frustration. The walls echo with the reverberations of an seemingly endless argument. He stands, a sharp gaze in his eyes, his poisoned words filling the air.
"Why are you always like this?" you ask, trying to contain your own anger. "Your attitude is toxic, Mattheo. It can't go on like this."
He sneers, an ironic smile distorting his face. "Oh, now it's my fault? You're always the victim, aren't you?"
You take a deep breath, trying to calm the flames of anger rising within you. "It's not about being a victim. It's about mutual respect. You can't keep acting this way."
Mattheo approaches, his presence oppressive. "Mutual respect? Funny coming from you. You just criticize me, judge me."
"Because you act disrespectfully! You constantly attack me, and I can't take it anymore."
He shrugs, disdainful. "If you can't take it, leave. No one is forcing you to stay."
The tension reaches its peak. You stand up, facing Mattheo with determination. "Maybe that's what I should do."
The words hang in the air, heavy with consequences. The room is filled with the silence that follows an argument, and you wonder if this confrontation marks the end of something, or perhaps the beginning of a new dynamic.
Frustrated by the atmosphere, Mattheo abruptly stands up and heads to the bathroom, using the excuse of needing to prepare in there to escape the confrontation. You remain in the room, Mattheo's dark look still echoing in the air. The decision not to spend the night in this toxic atmosphere takes hold in you, and you head to the bathroom as well.
Reflecting in the bathroom, you decide to leave the unresolved argument behind and choose not to sleep that night. The idea of returning to your shared room with Pansy becomes a tempting refuge. Exiting the bathroom, you silently slip through the hallway, deliberately avoiding Mattheo's room.
Meanwhile, Mattheo, after anxiously waiting in the bathroom for some time, starts to worry about your absence. Concerned, he knocks on the door, softly calling, "My love, are you okay?" Faced with your silence, he eventually opens the door, discovering that you're no longer there. Regret fills him as he realizes the impact of his behavior.
Determined to find you, Mattheo heads towards the girls' dormitory, disregarding any rules of decency. His only thought is to bring you back to him, suddenly realizing how crucial your presence is to him.
Upon opening the door to your room, he notices Pansy's absence, but you're there, asleep in your bed, hugging a pillow that was supposed to replace him for the night. Mattheo gently removes the pillow from your arms, slipping into its place. He embraces you tenderly, whispering an "I love you" in your ear, realizing the foolishness of the argument. He holds you tightly, hoping that you'll find it in yourself to forgive him despite the hurtful words he uttered.
#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle blurb#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle fanfic#mattheo riddle fanfiction#mattheo riddle fic#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#harry potter#golden trio#harry potter fanfic
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flower [tattooH x Innocenty/n]
synopsis: harry's the boy next door, he's also a tattoo artist aannd y/n's sexual awakening because she's an innocent virgin with a flower shop.
word count: 8.6k
content warnings: smut (fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, virgin Y/N)
read part 2 here
my first imagine !! i hope u enjoy it !! i enjoy it here very much !
. . .
Y/N had been having a terrible week.
She owned a flower shop called 'Sweet Juniper' which had been hers for almost an entire year. It had been her dream to share her love of flowers with everybody so when she finally saved enough money to set up a shop, she worked tirelessly to make it the best possible floral shop the town had ever seen.
People would put in special requests if they needed flower arrangements for special occasions or others would just come by to just lift their mood a little bit if they were having a tough day. Y/N loved her customers and spent so much time chatting throughout the day all whilst tending to her plants.
But this week was not fun.
The shop next door had been empty for a long time now - ever since Y/N had set up shop. She lived in the flat above the shop so it was ideal not to have to handle any neighbours. But the past few weeks, decorators and construction workers had been making a lot of noise - fixing up the empty shop - which meant someone was moving in.
Y/N hadn't met them yet so she wasn't sure what the shop next door would be. The town was relatively quiet so she expected a bakery or maybe a clothing boutique. Only yesterday, with the shop all set up and ready to go, she found it to be nothing of the sort.
It was dark and music pulsed through the walls of her flower shop. The heavy bass made it sound like someone was trying to fight their way through the floorboards she had painted a very, very light pink.
Her customers had complained especially the older bunch. They had trouble concentrating whenever they tried to talk to her or hear her advice on what the best flowers were during the current autumn season.
So after a not-so-fun week and frequent visits to the corner shop to top up her headache medication, Y/N made the decision to confront her new neighbour and tell them exactly how she felt. She wasn't going to let her flower shop fail because of an inconsiderate, noisy fool.
Y/N flipped the sigh from 'open' to 'closed' and took off her apron which had her name in swirly handwriting embroidered onto the breast pocket. She took three deep breaths and mentally went through her speech. She wouldn't be unkind but she would be fair.
"You can do this Y/N," She said to herself before she exhaled and opened the door to walk five steps over to her next-door neighbour.
She hadn't seen the shop properly since the decorating was completed so was immediately struck by how dark it was in comparison to her own shop. It was painted black with illustrations and pictures of people's tattoos set up in the shop window.
The pavement was lit up in the darkness by the red neon lights coming from inside the shop. Everything about it was so different to her baby pink and white flower shop.
The sudden thought of turning back and going upstairs to her apartment almost tempted her enough to turn away but she knew the problem would not be resolved if she were to sit by and do nothing.
Her Mary Jane heels tapped against the pavement as she came to stand in front of the door. It seemed as though the shop was still open, so she pushed the door and stepped inside.
The smell of tobacco and musk and ink hit her senses as she closed the door behind her. The heavy bass of the music was now pounding through her ears. The nerves were rising within her and turning back seemed much more tempting now.
She spun on her heel and reached for the door handle, only to be stopped by someone clearing their throat.
"Are you here for a tattoo?" His voice was deep, husky and... pretty.
She turned around and was met with a tall figure standing in the doorway to the back of the shop. His arms were by his side and he was wearing a black, fitted shirt with black trousers and low cut doc martens with red laces. His face was illuminated by the red, neon sign on the wall with the words 'Styles INK' written in a grungey font.
"T-tattoo?" She gulped, the script she had rehearsed over and over again was nowhere to be found like the words had silently fallen from her brain, through her nose and slipped from her mouth before she had time to speak them out loud.
He walked to the front desk, footsteps heavy against the wooden floor. "We don't take walk-ins this late at night if that's what you're after."
The tone of his voice made her tremble in her heels. She curled her fingers into a fist and tried to stop her heart from beating so fast. "I-I'm not here for a tattoo. I-I'm actually from next door."
His head lifted up, she could finally see the colour of his eyes were a pale green and his hair was curly and brunette. "Ahhh," He dropped the pen he was fiddling with on the desk, "The flower girl."
She huffed, "Yes, that would be me."
"M allergic to flowers." He said.
"W-what? Why would you set up shop next to a flower shop then?" She asked.
"Only place that offered a space with an apartment." A breath slipped past her lips.
He was not only her shop neighbour but her neighbour neighbour too.
Well, this just made things a bit more awkward.
He came in front of the desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms. Y/N saw every inch of the skin on his arm littered with tattoos and even caught a glimpse of his ring-clad fingers. "Listen, if you're not here for a tattoo then why are you here? I need to close up so I'd appreciate it if you were quick with whatever it is you came here for."
Y/N swallowed her nerves, "Your music is too loud a-and it's driving my customers away."
"What was that?" He wanted her to repeat herself.
"Y-Your music, it's much too loud and my customers are c-complaining." She wished she didn't stutter but at least she got what she needed to say out.
"My music?" His eyebrows scrunch up.
"Yes." She nods.
"What about your music?" He retorts, "s all I can hear when I'm upstairs."
She immediately blushes and wonders how long he has been staying in the apartment upstairs. Y/N was so used to not having neighbours that she hadn't thought to turn her music down or take a break from her lonesome karaoke nights.
"That's different."
"If I have to hear you sing to that broken-hearted, bubble-gum pop princess every night then you can't complain about me playing my music like I have." He argues.
"B-but I don't play it in the day like you do! It's so loud! It is - hey quit laughing!" She huffs when he snickers at her.
"M sorry, you're just so little." He laughs. "Maybe that's why I haven't seen you since I've moved in."
Y/N crossed her arms, "I'd just appreciate it if you turned your music down a little, just so my customers can shop for their flowers in peace."
He says nothing. Instead, his eyes scan her face and then fall on the rest of her. She was wearing light blue jeans and a pink, cosy sweater. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail with a white, silk ribbon and her heels were still on her now aching feet.
He smirks, "Alright, I'll turn my music down but you have to do the same. I don't want to hear you sing about Romeo and Juliet or running out of the woods at 11 o'clock at night when I'm trying to relax."
She turns pink but luckily the red light hides the true colour of her cheeks, "Fine." She huffs and turns on her heel, too embarassed to say anything else.
"It was nice to meet you, flower." He says and she swears she can hear him smiling.
Her entire face heats at the nickname.
***
The next day, Y/N walked downstairs to her flower shop and prepared for a new day. She spent the rest of her night after visiting the stranger next door, quietly listening to music in hopes he would reciprocate today.
She hadn't seen him since last night and part of her was grateful for that. He was tall and intimidating and covered in tattoos but his voice was just so...nice that she couldn't seem to get the thought of him out of her head since she walked out of his tattoo shop. It was embarrassing to admit and Y/N was awfully bad at hiding her emotions so she hoped that would be the last time she'd speak to him face to face.
When she flipped the sign on the door to 'open', she held her breath as she waited for the sound of heavy, rock music coming through the walls only to find complete silence. She smiled and mindfully tapped herself on the back for being brave enough to go over and stand her ground.
Her customers were happy with the change too. They stayed and chatted with Y/N for a while, bringing home their baskets of flowers. The day had been much more successful than the past week had and she was thankful things would finally get back on track.
After cleaning the shop at the end of the day, she walked upstairs to her apartment and immediately decided to get into her new cute pyjamas she had ordered from Hollister - long trouser bottoms and a cute tank top both covered in the same pink, ditsy floral print.
She made herself some dinner and snuggled up on her tiny couch with her pet cat, Marshel, nestling to the side of her. Y/N hummed in delight when she made the decision to re-watch her favourite Harry Potter movie- it was the best film for the autumn weather.
Ten minutes into the movie sounds of people speaking and loud music sounded through the walls of her apartment. "Oh please no," She looked up at the ceiling, praying that someone out there would put her out of her misery.
It could only be her new neighbour, the tattoo artist, the one with the nice voice.
She pressed her ear against the door of her apartment and from the racket of people speaking and how loud the music was, she knew he was having a party.
"It's going to be a long night Marsh." She sighs, picking up her kitty and carrying him to bed.
At 2 am, Y/N was still awake. The party was still going and the music had yet to quieten down.
Y/N had been tossing and turning all night. Tears in her eyes as she tried to sleep but couldn't because of the loud noises coming from next door. At this rate, she'd only get four hours of sleep before she had to be up again for the busiest day of the week at the shop.
She couldn't handle it anymore. She flipped her duvet off and swung her legs over the bed. Her eyes fighting to stay open as she stumbled for the door.
At this rate, she was so tired she didn't care how she looked. She just wanted the quiet.
She flung her front door open and already found herself outside the tattoo artist's door. She knocked but the music was so loud, the only thing she could do was invite herself in.
The door opened and suddenly she was in a whole new world. There was cigarette smoke and a strong stench of alcohol. It was dark but red LED lights lit the room. People were laying on the floor or sitting around chairs or dancing in the empty spaces. There must have been about thirty people but with how tiny the apartment was it felt like much more.
Y/N took a deep breath and began her mission to find the source of where the music was coming from. Everyone was much taller than her which made it harder for her to push past people, especially in their drunken state.
"Excuse me please," she mumbled.
"Flower," his voice made her freeze in place.
She stilled and spun round on her sock-covered feet, making a mental note to throw them in the trash when she got home.
The person standing in front of her looked the same, wearing the same all black outfit he wore yesterday. She could see the illustrations of his tattoos a little better this close and she could also see the anger that covered the features of his face.
"Y-you." She said through parted lips, unable to hide her fear or shock.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a corner of the room. He placed his hand on the wall behind her and covered her with his body like he wanted to hide her away.
"The m-music it's too loud and I-I can't sleep." She said, nearing on tears.
"You and your loud music." He muttered, "It's Saturday night. Shops aren't open on a Sunday."
"Mine is." She said.
"What?"
"I open my shop on a Sunday. I do work shops for little kids whose parents have to work on weekends and for elderly people who get a little lonely." It was her favourite day of the week but now she was dreading it because of the lack of sleep.
His expression seemed to soften but he rolled his eyes, "Of course you do."
"I just need to sleep for four more hours and then you can carry on doing whatever you're doing." He smirked.
"You've never been to a party before flower girl?" She shook her head and yawned.
Harry's smile fell and he sighed. He looked around at the party and then at the sleepy girl in front of him. "Fucks sake." He muttered and wrapped an arm around her.
Y/N's eyes widened when his hand rested on her shoulder. He tucked her into his side and quickly manoeuvred past everybody.
"Is that your new girl Styles?"
"Nice one, H."
"Have fun Styles."
"Ignore them." Harry told her as he reached their front door.
"Is that your name? Styles?" Y/N realised she had yet to ask what his name actually was.
"S Harry. You call me Harry." He says and she smiles at how normal and soft his name was compared to his dark and grizzly stature.
She hadn't realised what he was doing until he opened the door to her apartment. She gasped, suddenly wide awake and highly alert considering he was now in her very messy, untidy apartment.
"W-what are you doing?" She ran to her sofa and picked her blankets up from the floor before grabbing her bowl of popcorn from the coffee table that was littered with books and magazines she was halfway through reading.
Harry's eyes darted around her small apartment. The corner of his lips flinched into an almost smile when he saw the pastel colours littered around the place. It was so her - cute and cosy.
"You wanted to sleep." He said, "M helping you sleep."
Her mouth opened and closed in shock, "Helping me sleep?"
"Mhm, I've got these," He pulled out some earbuds from his pocket, "They're noise cancelling. Can't hear a sound when you've got them in your ears."
She looked at them in intrigue, "Where's your room?" He wondered, already walking in the direction of her bedroom like he'd been in her apartment many times before.
"My room's a little untidy," She tried to get past him so she could block him from coming into her room but he was much too tall.
"Don't care flower, just helping you out." He walked into the messy bedroom and paid no mind to the state of the floor. She'd never had a man in her room before so wasn't sure exactly what to do. Her apartment seemed so much smaller from his presence alone. "Get into bed, love." He pulled out his phone.
"O-okay," She said and tucked herself under her blanket.
It was strange to let a person she barely knew into the confines of her room but she was too tired to care and something inside of her trusted him.
He crouched beside her, resting an arm on her mattress. "Here put these in," He handed her the headphones, "Can you hear me?" He asked but received no reply, instead, Y/N giggled.
"I can't hear you Harry!" She laughed and something weird happened in his chest.
He smiled, "Tha's good." He murmured and put on a song he knew she would like.
Her heart stopped beating in her chest when the gentle piano music began to play. An instrumental of 'Cardigan' by her favourite singer whispered into her ears as he played it on a low volume.
"Sleep now flower." He encouraged.
"M name's Y/N." She whispered, her eyes fluttering shut, "You can call me Y/N."
"Y/N," He whispered back and the name seemed to unlock something deep inside of him. He said it once more for good measure before leaving her there with the music still playing.
***
Y/N woke up the next morning with a phone that was not hers resting right by her head. She had managed to fall asleep for four hours thanks to the man who she now knew as Harry. She felt as though last night was a fever dream and Harry had been a guardian angel, granting her sleep at last.
She could have slept in for another four hours but the shop would not run itself and she had many workshops on today that a lot of people had signed up for. She grabbed Harry's phone and made a mental note to give it back to him before she went to open the shop.
She made herself a good breakfast and fed Marshel as well, before getting dressed into a grey mini dress with a cute white collar and an encrusted black bow. She tied her hair back into a half up, half down and fastened it with a black bow to match her dress. She wore the same black Mary Jane heels and a bag with her packed lunch inside.
When she left her apartment, she listened out for any loud music coming from Harry's apartment only to be met with silence. She knocked three times- his phone in her hands- but no one answered.
She'd come back later, she thought. Maybe he was also catching up on some much-needed sleep.
Her first workshop of the day was with a group of children.
Their parents worked weekends and some of them were from the orphanage that they had signed up to help them develop new hobbies. Y/N knew them all by name and loved teaching them how to grow their own tomato plants and arrange flowers with cute bows.
An hour before lunch, she had a class with a group of mothers whose children had just left home. Most of them came because they needed a little company on the weekends when not a lot was going on at home or they wanted to pick up a new hobby.
In the midst of her basket weaving session, Y/N heard a phone ring. She glanced at the phone still on the front desk and saw the screen lighting up. "Excuse me ladies," she slid off the chair and walked over to Harry's phone.
Mike Supplier was the name on the screen. She wondered whether or not it was important and if she should answer it just in case. The phone stopped ringing for a brief moment until the name lit up the screen again.
"Seems important, Y/N." One of the ladies said.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and walked to the back room, pressing the green button to accept the call. "Fucking finally!" A gruff voice speaks on the other end, "I've got your stash when do you want it?"
"Excuse me?" Y/N blushed, not use to such aggressive language.
The person paused, "Are you Styles' new lady? Listen can you put him on the phone? I need to speak to him urgently."
Y/N was in shock, "I'm not his lady! I'm his neighbour."
"Well, whatever you are could you just pass the phone to him?"
"Give me a second," She huffed, entering the shop again and turning towards the ladies who were in deep conversation, "Ladies, I just need a moment to go next door." They nodded.
Y/N could hear Mike Supplier cursing over the phone even as she had it by her side. She noticed Harry's shop was still unopened so went upstairs instead.
She knocked on the door of his apartment repeatedly until she finally heard footsteps coming towards the door. His door swung open, "Can I help you flower?" Her eyes widened.
He stood in the doorway with nothing but grey sweatpants and socks. His bare torso was littered with tattoos and his brunette hair was clipped with a tiny claw clip.
"Your p-phone," She held it out to him. His eyebrows furrowed like he had a lot of questions as to why she had his phone but he took it from her anyway and held it to his ear.
"Yeah, yeah shut up." He spoke. Y/N could still hear Mike Supplier talking on the other end. "Come by this afternoon. I'll wait outside the shop and don't wear that dodgy fucking hat this time."
The conversation ended and Y/N stood awkwardly in front of him. "Well I should go,"
"Wait," Harry stopped her "Did you steal my phone from me flower girl?"
"N-no! You left it in my apartment." She argued.
"Oh yeah," he grins like he was thinking back to being in her room last night, "Your lips go all pouty and you snore when you sleep you know that? 'S cute."
"Hey," she huffed, "I do not snore!"
"Whatever you say baby." Her cheeks warmed at the new nickname he had accidentally added to the seemingly growing collection.
"W-well who was that anyway. He was a little rude." She mumbled.
"You spoke to him?" He arched a brow, "was he rude to you?"
"He swore at me,"
"Dick." Harry muttered, "He's my supplier."
"Oh like for the shop?" She asked. Harry could have sworn he was having palpitations from how innocent she looked.
"No baby," he smirked, "a different kind of supplier."
"Oh," she said, still not fully understanding what he was getting at, "Well I better get down to the shop. My class is waiting for me."
"Sure I'll come with you." He grabbed a sweater and his jacket from the coat hanger.
"Wait, what? No."
"I'm bored and I want to hang out with you." He shrugs, "I don't see how that's a problem."
"You want to hang out with me?" She couldn't make sense of it.
"Mhm," He shut the door of his apartment behind him, "Lead the way, flower girl."
Y/N argued with him as they walked back downstairs. She tried to push him out of the shop before he could even step foot inside but she was too small for his 6ft frame and he gently grabbed her waist and picked her up as if she weighed nothing, stepping into the shop.
All eyes turned in their direction. Y/N blushed and stuttered as she said, "L-ladies, this is my neighbour."
"Hi, I'm Harry." He said from behind.
The ladies looked confused and then concerned and then suddenly they were grinning ear to ear, slipping out of their seats to welcome their new guest.
"Oh Harry, you look as old as my boy! It's so lovely to meet you." Mildred, one of the elder ladies said.
"Nice to meet you too." He spoke in a warm, almost flirtatious way.
Y/N stood there in shock, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Kathy and Lucy had already sat him in between them both and got him the things he needed to weave a basket.
"Are you interested in flowers Harry?" Julia asked.
He looked across the table over at Y/N whose cheeks seemed to be a shade of red they'd never even been before. "Only one."
"Oh well Y/N's an excellent teacher. We're making hanging baskets to plant daffodils in them for the spring."
"Hmm I guess I've come to the best place to learn then." His eyes remained fixed on Y/N who defeatedly picked up her basket to show Harry exactly how to make one himself.
"How are you so good at this?" Y/N whispered in awe as Harry finished his basket.
"These hands are good with fiddly things." He says.
"Oh that's wonderful Harry!" Kathy exclaimed, "You could take over Y/N's job. Might help her out and she can finally have a much deserved rest."
"S that right? You tired flower?" Harry murmured when he saw Y/N's eyes opening and closing as she leant against the desk.
"Not tried at all," she lied but Harry seemed to see right through her.
"Hmm," he frowned which immediately had Y/N standing straight and trying to disguise her exhaustion a little better.
"You hungry?" A tall shadow loomed in front of Y/N as she sat at the desk, processing payments for her classes and labelling the baskets for the ladies to take home.
She looked up and saw Harry, his voice now a familiarity after the last almost twenty four hours since she had met him. "A-a little." She decided not to lie this time since apparently, she was much easier to read than she thought.
"I've got food upstairs, wanna come up?" He asks.
"A-Are you sure?"
"C'mon little flower, I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't mean it." With a nod, Y/N locked up the shop for lunch and followed Harry up to his apartment. When she stepped inside, it was completely different to how it had been last night.
It was clean and tidy. A few boxes were lying on the carpeted floor of his open living room here and there, but for the most part, it was pretty neat. Y/N's eyes were immediately taken by the prints hanging up on the wall.
"These are incredible." She gasped, feeling particularly fond of a line drawing of a woman.
"It's my mother," He stood next to her, looking up at the drawing with her.
"You drew it?" She asked, wide-eyed.
"Mhm," He hummed.
"Wow, no wonder you're a tattoo artist," She glanced at the intricate tattoos littered on his arms.
"Ever thought of getting one yourself?" He asked.
"N-Not really, I'm no good with needles." She said, rather sheepishly.
He smirked, "Let's get some food in that tummy."
Twenty minutes later, Y/N and Harry sat on the small two-person couch eating sandwiches and a fruit salad they had prepared together in Harry's even smaller kitchen. Y/N giggled as Harry threw a grape into the air and tried to catch it in his mouth.
"T-tell me about your tattoos," Y/N insisted after taking a bite out of a strawberry. Harry's eyes looked down at her lips and back to her big, doe eyes. "What does this one mean?" She questioned, pointing to the words written in Hebrew.
"M' sisters name," He starts, "And that says 'Can I stay?'"
"Hmm, you have a lot of hearts." She said, fingers lightly touching the human heart on his arm.
"I have a lot of love." He grins, cheekily, like he knew the line was cheesy but wanted to use it anyway. He was glad he did from the smile it had formed on Y/N's face.
Y/N hadn't realised how close they had gotten until she felt his breath on her neck. Her voice wavers slightly as she tries not to think too much about it, "And what about this one," She points to the rose, her fingers tracing the petals.
"I did that one myself," He murmured, lips close to her ear.
"You did?" She said but it came out more as a whisper. She seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, her brain turning to mush and all her thoughts suddenly turning into Harry.
"Mhm," She glanced up and his deep, green eyes were already boring into her. Her eyes darted down to his lips and then back up again. "You're pretty," He mumbled, loud enough so she could hear.
She shook her head, "I-I don't think so," She was suddenly flustered and confused and wondering why her brain was not acting the way it usually did.
"I know so," His hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ears, and she shudders when his fingertips brush against her cheek. Slowly his head inches forward and the nearer he gets it feels as though more oxygen leaves the room. "Relax," He whispers, touching her hand, "You're okay flower girl."
"H-Harry, I-I've never kissed anyone before." She admits, embarrassment flooding her.
"What?" He furrows his eyebrows.
"O-oh, it's just that... I've never been k-kissed before."
"By anyone?" She nods. "Impossible." He whispers.
"We can stop if you want to," He says, his voice gentle and comforting.
"No," She wraps her small fingers around his wrist before he pulls away, "I-I want to,"
"Want to what?" He smirks, "You've gotta tell me baby."
"I want to k-kiss you," She blushes, it's all she seems to do around him.
"Cute," He murmurs before his lips press to hers.
Y/N's not sure what to do at first, her eyes are open and shock courses through her, but Harry's lips move against hers and he breathes, "Relax flower," He insists and she does.
Her eyes flutter shut and she mimics his movements. What he gives, she gives right back and a small whimper leaves her when he kisses her even harder. She starts to lose her breath with how long they kiss for but she's far too deep, floating too much, to pull away. She grabs the back of his neck and pulls him in closer, a groan eliciting from somewhere deep inside him. "Baby," The name escapes his lips and a shiver runs through her.
With panting breaths, she pulls away and so does he. Her face is flushed and his lips are pink, "You okay?" Is the first thing he asks, receiving a nod. "I think 'm a little bit obsessed with you." He confesses.
"M-Me?" She couldn't believe what he was saying.
"Don't think I've ever wanted anything more," He looks away like being vulnerable is a foreign thing for him.
"Why?" She can't help but ask.
He shrugs, "Sometimes it just is."
She thinks on his words before replying, "Can we kiss again?"
Harry chuckles, "Kiss me all you want flower."
. . .
Y/N had a permanent smile on her face the next day as she went back to work. People asked her what was making her so happy and she was constantly finding things to lie about instead of speaking the name of the tattooed boy next door.
An hour before lunch, the postman came to deliver her new ribbons for the bouquets and accidentally dropped off a package meant for Harry. Y/N couldn't help but smile at his name written on a brown box.
"Give me a second ladies, I'm just going to pop next door." Y/N grinned, ignoring the knowing looks of the ladies she was teaching.
As Y/N walked next door, her confidence seemed to shrink with every step. She realised she had yet to go to Harry's tattoo shop when he was actually working and she knew she would stick out like a sore thumb once she took a step inside. She was wearing a lilac dress and white heels, of course, she was going to stand out.
The bell rang as she stepped inside and a few customers looked up, some of them doing a double take at the small girl. Music played through the speakers but it was a lot less quiet compared to the first day Harry's shop had opened.
Footsteps walked on the wooden floorboards and Harry walked out from the back room. His eyes caught sight of Y/N and his frown immediately turned into a smile. He held his arms out for her and she quickly walked into his embrace. "Hi flower," He murmured into her hair.
"I came to drop off your package," She held out the box to him when he let her out of his arms.
"Oh," He took the package from her, "That's all?"
She bit back a smile, "Mmm, I may have something very important to tell you," She gave him a not-so-subtle wink.
He grinned, almost wickedly, "Well, do follow me this way to tell me this very important thing," He led her way from the waiting area and somewhere closed off and hidden from everywhere else.
When they were alone, he grabbed her hips and hoisted her up onto a countertop, knocking things over. "Harry," She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Shhh no more talking baby," He said before kissing her lips that he spent all night dreaming about. Their mouths were wet and hot against each other as they made out in a closet hidden away from Harry's customers.
His hands slid down her back and around her waist, pinching her hips, "Did you wear this dress f' me baby?" He murmured, the tone of his voice sending shivers up Y/N's spine.
"Wanted to be pretty for you." She told him. She had spent all morning trying to find a nice outfit to wear, not only for work but for when she saw Harry too.
"Fuck," He groaned against her lips, "Where have you been all my life?"
Y/N felt like a teenage girl getting all flustered and hot over a boy. She'd never experienced being with someone in this way before and now she had a taste for it and couldn't get enough of him. She had left Harry's apartment yesterday in a daze and she felt like she was still floating from the high of her first kiss.
He stood in between her legs and she subconsciously rolled her hips against him. She gasped in both shock and at the feeling of him against her, "You're okay baby," He soothed her, sensing her confusion.
"Feels good huh?" He pulled her hips into him again and she felt a moan bubble in her throat. "Have you ever touched yourself Y/N?" He wondered.
She froze, "N-no," She confessed, embarrassed.
"Nothing to be ashamed of baby," He comforts her, his words soothing the insecure part of her. He kissed her lips softly, "Can I visit you this evening?"
She nods without even thinking about it, "Please,"
He smirks, "Please baby? Please? What are you asking for?"
She didn't know, her mind was foggy and all she could see was him, "Everything."
His eyes darkened but his smirk never left, "'M polite little flower."
"Harry," She whined, burying her face in his neck.
Harry laughed and cupped the back of her with his hand, kissing her forehead, "I'll come visit tonight and you better be wearing those cute pyjamas," He knew she was smiling because he could feel her lips against his neck.
That evening after Y/N had closed the shop, she ran upstairs to her apartment and kicked off her heels. She ran around her living room, hiding things she didn't want Harry to see and flinging dirty laundry into the washing basket.
She walked into her very pink bedroom and pulled out her pyjamas, happy to finally be wearing something comfortable. She spritzed some of her favourite perfume and rubbed vanilla lotion into her skin.
Y/N sat on her sofa with Marshel seated by her feet on the carpeted floor. She switched on the TV and watched a few episodes of friends whilst continuing to finish her knitting project - she was making a blanket since one of the ladies from her group was pregnant and would be giving birth very soon.
She fought to keep her eyes open as she waited for Harry to knock on her door. His shop was meant to have closed twenty minutes ago so she assumed he'd be here by now.
Slowly, an hour had gone by and Y/N was getting worried. Her mind spun with insecurities and a sudden fear that something might have happened to Harry. She placed her knitting project on her coffee table and patted Marshel on the head. She walked to the door and slid her sock covered feet into her brown UGG boots.
The shop was not its usual LED red colour when she came to stand in front of the window, instead it was neon blue. Y/N frowned when she heard music playing from inside and checked to see whether the door was open.
Her hand pushed the door handle, the door swinging open and the muffled music suddenly became coherent. She could hear voices coming from the back room where Harry tattooed his customers.
Walking towards the sound, Y/N eventually caught the sound of Harry's voice amongst the group of people chatting. Her shoulders relaxed at the thought of him being here, at least she knew she'd be okay if he was there with her.
Turning the corner, her eyes landed on Harry with two other tattooed men, smoking something that - in Y/N's opinion - smelt a little strange.
Harry must have sensed her presence as he turned his head and caught sight of her hiding behind the corner wall. He smiled, "Hey flower,"
"Hi," She murmured, feeling embarassed.
"C'mere," He held out his arm for her and she scurried towards him, attaching herself to him by snuggling her body into his side. He put an arm around her, kissing her forehead. "I thought I was meeting you upstairs?"
Y/N frowned, "You took too long,"
He smirked, "M impatient girl," He nodded towards the two men he was talking to, "Y/N, these are 'm friends, Mike and Dan."
"Mike supplier," Y/N whispered, finally putting a face to the name of the man she had spoken to on Harry's phone.
He was tall and bald with a beard and looked to be in his forties. Like Harry, he also had tattoos but not nearly as much. Beside him was Dan who looked closer in age to Harry, maybe a little older. He was blonde but wore a cap on his head and a silver chain around his neck.
After Harry had finished smoking with his friends, he said his goodbyes and led Y/N upstairs back to her apartment. "What were you smoking? It smelt funny," Y/N asked,"
Harry fell back onto the couch and pulled her down with him. She lay on top of him, the smell of the smoke still lingering on his clothes. "'S just a bit of weed." He confessed.
Y/N gasped, "Weed? Is that legal?"
Harry looked at her amused, "Not here but it doesn't do much harm to me, been smoking it for ages." He twirled a piece of hair around his finger, "Does that bother you?"
She thought about it but the idea didn't really seem to phase her. As long as he was being safe and was using it in a healthy sort of way, she didn't mind. "N-no, not at all." Harry's smile widened into a grin. He didn't hesitate to kiss her, feeling her soft lips which had recently become his new obsession. They were so soft and red and kissable and made just for him.
Y/N didn't want him to stop kissing her whenever he did. She loved the feeling of her eyes fluttering shut and all of her senses just filling up with him. Harry pulled away, still cupping her cheek in his hand. Y/N's chest heaved up and down against him as she tried to catch her breath, "Breathe, flower." His heart ached when she looked up at him with swollen red lips, trying to catch her breath. "Lose your breath a little bit huh?"
"A little," She huffed.
"You're too cute."
Y/N kissed him again once she had caught enough air again. Harry sat up, pulling on the roots of her hair as her legs wrapped around him so she was straddling him. She whimpered, tugging on the fabric of his t-shirt.
"What do you want baby?" Harry mumbles against her parted lips.
"Take it off," She whispers, pulling on his shirt.
Harry does as he's told, pulling his shirt up over his head and revealing his muscular, tattoed torso. Y/N's eyes widened. She'd never seen something so beautiful, he looked as though he was one of those marble statues in a museum. "Eyes on me baby," Harry smiled, pushing her chin up with his finger so her eyes were looking directly into his. "What now?"
"I-I-I don't know," She blushed, losing her confidence now that they were no longer kissing.
"We don't have to do anything you don't want." He looked at her with a soft gaze.
"I-I don't want to disappoint you." She admits, her insecurities coming to the surface.
"Couldn't disappoint me baby, ever." She smiles, feeling secure in his words and his hold. Y/N leans forward and rubs her cheek against his chest. Harry's hands go beneath the tank top of her pyjamas, brushing her bare back. "If it helps I've never done this before."
She's shocked but she tries to hide it, "W-what do you mean?"
"Been intimate with someone."
She smiled.
She really, really liked him.
. . .
For weeks after, Y/N was obsessed with two things.
Her flower shop and her tattooed boyfriend next door.
When she wasn't working, she was with Harry, either cooking in his apartment or cuddling together on the couch in her living room. Harry had also developed a new taste for basket weaving, joining in on Y/N's Sunday classes with the elderly ladies in the morning.
In the short time they had known each other, Y/N had come to learn that Harry wasn't a morning person but he never missed a Sunday class even when he was exhausted from the busy day before at the tattoo shop. He would stumble downstairs with dishevelled hair and sleepy eyes in sweatpants and a hoodie, sitting in his seat between Mildred and Julia as they fussed over him.
Y/N had also grown a love for kissing Harry at every opportunity. She'd take many five-minute breaks, walking over to the tattoo shop and kissing Harry in the cupboard or visiting him in the alleyway behind the building where they'd make out against the brick wall. Even Harry had an addiction to his girlfriend's very kissable lips, sneaking out of his shop in between appointments to smother her in kisses in the storage cupboard.
"Hey Marshy little fur ball," Y/N bit back a grin when she heard the door of her apartment open and the familiar gruff voice speak to her little cat.
She swung her legs over her bed and paused the movie she was watching, running to the front door and leaping into his arms, "Hi flower," Harry murmured, inhaling the scent of her coconut shampoo.
Y/N nuzzled her face against his jumper and squeezed him tightly, "Hi Harry," She sighed, blissfully.
"Wanted to come see ya, hope tha's okay." He kissed her quickly.
"Course, I was watching a film in my room." She tugged on his hand and lead him to her bedroom.
Harry had spent nights in Y/N's room before. Sometimes he would ask her if it was okay if he took a nap in her bed whenever he finished work early because it was much comfier than his. She'd find him curled up under her blankets, hugging one of her stuffed animals to his chest with the hood of his sweatshirt over his head.
Harry removes his sweatshirt, leaving him in only sweatpants, before he crawls into bed and pats the spot beside him. Y/N turns on the movie but knows that neither of them has any plans of watching it.
With the amount of kissing they had been doing, Y/N hoped she had gotten a lot better. She realised Harry would often make small, quiet noises whenever she did something he liked, like tugging on his hair or sticking her tongue in his mouth.
It wasn't long before they were making out again on her bed. Her leg hooked around his hip and her hands in his hair as he gripped her waist, every now and then he would squeeze her ass remembering the first time he did it and how much she loved it from the soft moans that left her.
Y/N thought that kissing Harry was the best thing in the entire world but what she didn't know was that Harry had plenty more up his sleeve.
His hand slid from her waist and down to her bare thigh - she was only wearing pyjama shorts since her apartment was pretty warm. He squeezed her softly, "Can I feel you baby?" He asked.
Y/N froze, not sure how to react. "I-I-"
Harry cupped her cheek, "I know," He already knew what she was thinking before she even said anything, "We can carry on doing what we're doing if you prefer. It's no rush."
"N-no," She grabbed his wrist in both her hands. Y/N was a virgin but she wasn't afraid... Just inexperienced and that made her a little wary. But with Harry, she knew she wanted to allow that part of herself to him. Maybe not the whole thing but a little something.
"Y-you can feel me... I-if you like." She said, awkwardly.
Harry chuckles, "What about if you like, hmm?" His fingertip traced circles on her thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps.
"I-I would l-like that p-please." She whispered.
Harry grinned, "Only because you're so polite sweet girl."
Harry's arm slides between her legs and hooks his fingers around her pyjamas bottoms to pull them down her legs. Y/N inwardly praised herself for shaving the night before yet she was pretty sure Harry wouldn't mind either way. Harry tuts when he sees her underwear, "Did m' little flower get all wet from kissing on daddy?"
She felt the air leave the room and her body heat at the nickname. It was so dirty and yet she felt herself aching from his words. "Y-yes," She breathes.
"Yes what baby?" He kisses up her thigh.
"Yes daddy," She murmurs.
Harry eyes darken as he looks down between her thighs, "My good, polite girl." He pinches the flesh on her thigh and she feels her chest heave. Y/N gasps for air when his fingers trace the fabric of her underwear and her heart races even more when he moves her underwear to the side to see a part of herself no one had ever seen before.
"Fuck me," He whispers under his breath. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen."
"R-really?" Y/N blushes, her cheeks hot.
"Don't think I've ever seen something so pretty."
"T-thank you, daddy." She whispers the last part but it doesn't stop the bulge from growing in Harry's sweatpants.
"Have you always been this needy when we kiss baby?" Harry murmured in her ear as his fingers part her pussy. He tries to stop himself from groaning at the slick wetness that coats his fingers.
Y/N gasps at the new feeling but is immediately overcome by pleasure as Harry begins to move his finger back up to her clit, "Harry," She whimpers.
Harry's quick to pull his hand away, "Nuh uh baby, that's not my name."
Y/N's head was all dizzy but she managed to reply, "Daddy, please," She whines.
"Barely even touched you and you're already whining," He tuts before rubbing his thumb over her clit and making small, slow circles. Y/N whimpers at the new sensation of intense pleasure. "Does that feel good flower?" He asks, nipping her ear as he murmurs against it.
"S-so good- so good daddy, so, so good." She babbles as he continues to tease her clit with his thumb.
"Who'd have thought I had such a naughty girl hmm?" She arches into his touch as he moves his finger in a certain way. She wonders how she managed to go on for so long without feeling something so blissfully delightful.
"Put your hand here baby," Harry instructs, reaching for her hand that wasn't currently scrunching the duvet, and placing it flat over the top of his, "Let me show you how to touch yourself. Watch daddy," Y/N's eyes look down to see his gold ring-clad fingers drenched in her wetness, his tattooed hand moving in circles as her rubs her clit. "This is how I want you to touch yourself when you think of me baby and when you're good, I'll make your perfect, little hole feel good too." Y/N gasps and clenches when he brushes a finger against her hole.
"I-I'm good-Please, I'm good," She mewls and her hand grips his wrist instead. She uses it as leverage to twist and turn into him, the pleasure overwhelmingly good she can't help but hide her face in his neck.
"You are good," He kisses her forehead, "My good girl." She nods at his praise, eyes shut.
Harry forces her legs a part and continues to pleasure her in a way she didn't know about until today. She writhes and moans beneath his touch as he whispers dirty things into her ear. "I want you to cum baby, think you can do that?"
"Mhm," She sighs, already feeling the bubble of pressure in her tummy. "F-feels - feel's s-so-"
"Feel good m'love?" He coos, "Cum f' me. Cum f' daddy, wanna see you soak my hand."
At his words, Y/N whimpers as she becomes increasingly sensitive the more he circles her clit. Harry feels as though he's about to explode as he watches her cheeks flush pink and she grinds her pussy against his hand as she rides out her orgasm. "That's it my little flower, so good." He praises her, feeling her shudder as she finishes coming down from her high.
She's panting heavily as Harry slides her panties back into place. "You okay?" Harry checks, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Y/N nods and instantly feels embarrassed, hiding herself in the crook of his neck. Harry chuckles, "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen."
"You're lying," Y/N says, her voice muffled against him.
"Never gonna lie to you flower, never." He promises.
Y/N removes herself from her hiding place and looks up at him. Harry's heart bursts in his chest when she sees her sleepy, blissful gaze. He wonders where this girl has been all his life and how he managed to go this long without her. He was pretty sure he was falling in love with her but that was a conversation for another day.
"W-what about you?" Y/N looks down and sees the very noticeable bulge in his trousers.
Harry shakes his head, "Not today," He smiles, "We have plenty of time to experiment some more but think you've had enough experimenting for one night."
"Me too," Y/N curls into his side, not bothering to put her pyjama bottoms back on. "Having sex is exhausting."
"We didn't even have sex, silly girl." Harry laughs.
"Felt like it," She mumbles against him.
"I'm that good huh?" He grins, cheekily, "Just you wait baby,"
"The best," She slurs, yawning, "M so tired."
"Yeah? You sleepy baby?" He kisses her forehead. "Get some sleep m'love," He wraps an arm around her and tucks her into his chest.
"I like you very much Harry," She whispers, sleepily.
"I like you very much too." Harry replies, holding her close.
psa don't let strangers into your room... actually don't let anyone into your room
#harry styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagines#harry styles x reader#harry styles au#harry styles fanfic#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles fic rec#harry styles x you#harry styles fic#harry styles smut#harry styles imagine#one direction#writing#harry styles writing
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New Romantics
James Potter x slytherin fem!reader
Summary: When your "friends" play a dangerously stupid prank on you, James is the last person you'd think would help you.
Genre: Fluff, hurt and comfort <3
Warning: swearing, mentions of being drugged/drunk, violence, mentions of blood, protective!James
When James sees you walk into the classroom with an unusually cheery smile, he can't look away.
"Sirius," he pauses and leans in closer to his friend, "does she look unwell to you?" James whispers, clearly concerned for you. Sirius lets his chin rest on his palms as he looks over at you nonchalantly.
You almost trip on your shoe-laces as you make your way to your desk and you laugh a little too loudly, but only James seems to notice that particular detail.
"Y/l/n? She seems quite happy to me," Sirius's smirk is heard in his voice but James doesn't look amused.
"No, something's wrong. She's usually quiet and she," he doesn't finish his sentence when he sees your friends in the corner of the classroom.
Some of them look as concerned as he is while most hide smiles and snickers behind their hands as they look at you. James's eyes bounce back to you and his frown deepens. Something is wrong. Instantly, he's on his feet.
"Prongs!?" Sirius sounds surprised but it's no use trying to stop him because James is already on his way to you.
Just as you raise your arm to run a hand in your – already annoyed – desk partner's hair, James quickly swoops in and catches your wrist. You pause and when you turn your head to look at him, your smile widens.
"Potter!" you slur.
James can be an idiot sometimes, but he does know you're not drunk. He's never seen you drink. You look dizzy and he comes to the conclusion you must be under the influence of some kind of spell. He looks you over and sees the nasty cut on your knee. Anger bubbles in his stomach as he remembers how your friends somehow found this all incredibly funny.
You tilt your head at him slightly and say, "You have pretty eyes, did you know that?" you smile a smile James usually loves and was never directed at him before, but by now the entire classroom has their eyes on you and, because he knows you would hate all this unnecessary attention, James helps you stand.
You let out a breathy giggle when his hands find your waist and hold you steady.
"What are you doing?" a shrill voice asks from behind him and James clenches his jaw. He turns around. It's one of your friends. She's also in Slytherin and as hard as he tries, James can't remember her name.
"Helping your friend," he says blankly, "She seems a little out of it, doesn't she?"
"She's fine," your friend rolls her and tucks her dark hair behind her ear. "Aren't you, Y/n?" she asks you with a faint smirk.
Your body sways and James's arms move from your waist and swoops around you to hold under your armpits. "I'm okay — y-yeah, I'm okay. I feel better than fine," You mutter, eyelids fluttering slightly as you giggle at his touch.
James isn't at all convinced you're okay.
Your friend's cruel smirk and the mystery of how you've bruised your knee leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
"She's bleeding," he states as calmly as he can.
"She's just clumsy."
"She's obviously been hexed or something," James narrows his eyes.
Your friend laughs at his accusatory tone. "What? And you think I did it?"
"Yeah, actually, I do."
At this point, it's obvious you aren't paying attention to their argument as you start to play with James's collar. His cheeks flush pink as your hair skims his chin and the smell of your shampoo fills the air.
"Well if you won't tell me what happened to her, then I'll find out myself," he says and his hand moves to hold yours. "Come on," he whispers sweetly and you let him lead you out of the classroom.
James is extremely careful with you. He makes sure you don't trip in the hallway, or run into any doors and walls, and more importantly he stays with you when the nurse comes to make sure you're okay.
He leans over the hospital bed as his hand hover over your knee as he asks, "What's happened to her?"
"Veritaserum," the nurse says as she presses her palm on your forehead.
"The truth serum?" James is confused. "Doesn't that make someone tell the truth? Why would it make her act so," he turns his head to look at you and conflicting emotions creates what feels like an empty pit in his stomach. You look so beautiful with your eyes blown wide as you glance around the room. "So ditzy?" he finishes in an endeared whisper.
"It isn't uncommon as everyone can have different reactions," The nurse explains as she gently inspects your knee, "I think whoever made this potion must not be particularly skilled."
James clenches his fist around his cloak and tries to remind himself that you probably wouldn't want him to beat up your so-called-friends.
"What's happening to me?" your voice comes out strained as you try and focus on their conversation as you catch on to their confused faces.
"Nothing, honey, you're fine. Your friend was worried and he,"
You interrupt her, "James Potter? Oh, he isn't my friend." You look up at James and his smile disappears. He's embarrassed as he searches your face for any indication that you're joking but clearly you aren't because you ask him. "Potter, do you even know my name?" You sound serious.
James hesitates to answer, "Of course I know your name, Y/n," he finally admits.
He doesn't expect your eyes to light up but they do and you turn to the nurse, "He does know my name," you whisper with a smile.
James's heart swells at how happy you seem and he smirks a little. Amused, the nurse lets you continue, "You'know," you lean in closer and mutter just loud enough for James to hear without you knowing, "I really like him."
Surprised, his heart jumps and the nurse panics as he quickly shuts you up. "Alright honey, let's clean up this nasty little wound and then wait for the potion to pass, ok?" you nod and focus on her as she waves her wand across your knee and the cut disappears.
Once she's done, the nurse turns to James and says, "I know you must be curious, Potter, but I think Y/l/n should be alone while she recovers," the nurse turns to you again and looks at you sympathetically.
"He can stay!" you insist, "I want him to stay."
James looks into your eyes and he wonders how he can even think of disappointing you.
But, when he looks at the nurse again his heart sinks. He can't stay, he knows he can't. It would be unfair. You deserve to keep your secrets — all those feelings you wouldn't share with him normally — hidden away in your pretty little head.
James knows he can't take those away from you so he nods, stuffs his hands in his pockets, and sends you a lopsided smile. "I'll see you around, mmh?"
He leaves before he can focus on the way you called his name because if he does, he knows he'd feel compelled to rush back in and stay by your side. On his way back to the classroom, he can't help but smile as he remembers your words. Only, his smile disappears the moment he hears your friends in the hallway.
James stops in front of them and they do the same. The girl from earlier crosses her arms. "What's your issue, Potter?" she snarls, "Where's Y/n?"
James refuses to answer her question. "You gave her the Veritaserum, didn't you?" he accuses and some of your friend's squirm guiltily. The dark-haired girl just smirks.
"So what if we did? She isn't dying, is she? It was funny," she turns to your other friends with a grin and they nod meekly. "You should have seen her stumbling around, she wasn't even fazed when she fell and scraped her knee on the cobblestones. It was hilarious," she continues.
James's face burns from the points of his ears to his cheeks. "Hilarious?!" he repeats, his voice stern, "What kind of friends find it funny when their friend hurts themselves? She didn't know about the Veritaserum, did she?"
The girl shakes her head but one of your other friends interrupts. He's a tall, lanky Slytherin with icy blue eyes and vibrant auburn hair.
"Of course she didn't know, Potter. It wouldn't be as fun if she did. I would think you would understand," he admits with a grin.
James's hands shake as he stares at your friend rambling. The boy only chuckles and turns to his friends, amused, as he taunts, "Slipped the potion in her drink myself this morning."
He doesn't finish his sentence as James punches him. He stumbles back into the girls, cupping his hands around his nose, as they shriek in surprise. James shakes his hand out a little and narrows his eyes. "You don't spike someone's drink, asshole. And don't fucking insinuate I would ever do something like that to anyone!"
"What the fuck? Why do you even care?" The boy hisses as one girl holds his shoulder and tends to him. "You're crazy."
And sure, maybe James was crazy but he won't tolerate someone hurting you.
Ever.
* * *
"James, just give the poor girl some space," Remus sighs as he tries to concentrate on his essay. "She's gone through enough these last few days. Haven't you heard the rumors going around? They're brutal."
James resists the scream that bubbles in his throat. "I know. I know. I just want to be there for her," he whines and Sirius wraps his arm around his shoulder.
"You'll just make things worse," Sirius says, "Last rumor I heard is that she faked it all for your attention."
James clenches his jaw. "How would I make this worse? It's all so fucking cruel, Pads. She's all alone," his heart has been slowly breaking whenever he thinks of you sobbing in your dorm or sitting alone during your classes and meals.
He shuts his eyes a moment and then sits up abruptly and says, "I know what to do."
Remus looks up and with a worried expression, his eyes widen. "Prongs," he starts but James is already standing. "Sirius! Don't let him leave!" Remus insists but it's too late because their friend is already out the Common Room door.
When James enters the Great Hall, he pauses and searches for you. He sees you sitting alone and he becomes so angry he can't think normally.
He storms up to the Slytherin table and jumps on top of it. Some cutlery and food falls to the floor and students turn their heads. James just clears his throat, making a show as he stumbles on his feet.
If everyone wants to gossip about something, they can gossip about this.
With a grin, he spreads his arms and shouts, "Can I have everyone's attention?" The Great Hall turns silent and James struts down the table until he's much closer to you. You feel your cheeks heat up and you hold your breath.
Remus and Sirius run into the Great Hall, calling James's name but it's too late because James is now standing in front of you as he holds out his hand. "Y/n, will you go out with me?" He asks, his voice loud and calm.
Whispers break out as your heart thumps in your chest. You look into James's eyes, searching them and when you reluctantly take his hand he nods a little and pulls you up onto the table with him.
Quickly, he pulls you closer and then whispers in your ear, "Say no. Trust me."
Your frown deepens but the words leave you without thinking, "No?"
James smirks and just subtle enough for no one to see, he kisses your cheek and pulls you away from him. Dramatically, he stumbles backwards and covers his heart. "Ow, you're killing me here, love. What will I do without you?"
If you didn't know he had just asked you to reject him, you would think he sounds genuinely hurt. As he stumbles, he trips on someone's glass and with a loud crash, he falls to the ground.
Students gasp loudly and so do you as you cover your mouth with your hands and rush to the edge of the table and peer down at him. When you see him sitting on the ground he suddenly blows a kiss up to you, a small paper bird flutters up to you and then turns into rose petals.
Your eyes widen and you can't help but laugh when James continues to make a scene and the petals fall in your hair. "You're breaking my heart, darling. Criminal," James whispers and winks dramatically.
"James Potter, detention. Now," McGonagall's voice booms and when James sees you hide a smile behind your hand, he smiles too.
A while later, as James sweeps up McGonagall's classroom floor, all he can think of is your happy smile.
"James?" Your voice interrupts his memory and he jumps a little, turning towards the door. You stand in the doorway, a flustered look on your face as you hesitate to come inside. James drops the broom and rushes over to you.
His knuckles hover over your cheek as he says, "Y/n, are you okay?"
Your eyes widen and you touch his hand. Gently, you pull it down to his side again as you whisper and ask, "What was that all about?"
James searches your face for anger. "I wanted to take the embarrassment off of you. You don't deserve anything that's been happening to you, love. None of it is your fault."
You look at him more seriously. "Yeah, it's been a little hard but I can handle the teasing. You shouldn't have done that," you say and James's heart clenches in his chest.
"I'm sorry if I upset you, Y/n. I just wanted,"
You interrupt him, "No. I mean you shouldn't have asked me to say no," you pause and look up at him, "unless, you don't actually want to go out with me. But, I know you know how I feel about you and I,"
Your sentence dies and you don't know what else to say.
James's expression softens. You look up at him, almost pleading with him, "Please don't make me repeat what I said in the Hospital Wing. It's so embarrassing, and I know you heard me. I wasn't exactly quiet."
James smirks. "When you said you like me?" he holds up his finger and pretends to ponder, "No I'm sorry, you really like me," his smile widens as he looks at you. You feel warmth in your cheeks and look away.
"Yeah, that."
"Well, I really like you too."
Your eyes widen and you look up at him. James uses his thumb to lift your chin. You realize how close your body is to his and your breath hitches in your throat. James's hand moves to your cheek, caressing it softly as you whisper, "You do?"
James lets out a breathy chuckle. "Of course I do. You're beautiful, kind, incredibly smart it's annoying," his eyes are full of admiration, "What's there not to like, darlin'?"
You frown, glancing quickly at the emblem stitched onto my robes and then you look at him again. "But, I'm a Slytherin. I didn't even think you ever knew who I was until last week. We've never really talked."
James's smile falters and his thumb moves behind your ear as he holds your cheek. "That's my fault. I should have said something sooner but with my reputation and all," he looks away, his face twisted in shame, "I didn't want to scare you away."
You see the sincerity in his eyes but ask wearily, "So it doesn't bother you?"
"That you're in Slytherin?" James smiles a little. "No, it doesn't, love. I don't care. I've seen how you are and I think you're absolutely lovely," he catches himself, "I mean, I'm not saying Slytherin's aren't lovely,"
You shut him up with a kiss. It's confident and startling but James doesn't complain. He simply pulls you in closer and lets his mouth explore yours with a passion he didn't know he had. He didn't know how starved he was of your taste until now.
Fuck, he's fucked.
You pull away, lips wet and stare at him. "Sorry," you mutter.
"Sorry?" James frowns and leans in to kiss you again, "Don't you dare be sorry. Just kiss me," his words leave you a mush in his arms and you're happy for his hand around your back because otherwise you would fall over.
When he finally disconnects your lips, he leans his forehead on yours and whispers what he'd been thinking, "You'll kill me, love."
You smile and hold his arm. "Thanks for saving me by the way, when I was under the potion," you say.
James leans away and studies your soft expression with a small smile. "I'd be an asshole not to help you. I didn't want to see you get hurt."
"Still, if you hadn't seen that something was wrong I don't know what would have happened."
"Nothing would have happened because I was there," James insists and kisses your forehead, "I'll always be there." He adds in a whisper into your hair.
It's only for him to hear. He doesn't want to just tell you he's there for you, instead he wants to show you. Everyday.
#james potter x reader#james potter#marauders#james potter fluff#james potter smut#marauders fic#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#james potter x you#marauders imagine#james potter imagines#james potter imagine#james potter blurb#james potter fic#james potter x y/n#marauder james potter#hp marauders#marauders era#marauders imagines#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#hp fanfic#hp#maraduers harry potter#marauders fanfiction
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More DAD!Harry pleasssseee like baby boy pouting because he wants to be treated like a big boy and Harry can't help but kiss his chubby cheeks????
PLEASNJENJRF I love dadrry so much
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"What is the frown for, peanut?" Harry's voice echoed in the kitchen as he saw his son sitting with his arms crossed in his booster seat. The tv show themed plate and cup set sat in front of him, Y/N having served lunch to them both and excusing herself to grab her own. "Do you not want this?"
It was his favorite. Grilled cheese that Y/N had cut into smaller squares, goldfish crackers, cut up grapes and strawberries neatly arranged on the plate and apple juice in his cup. He couldn't quite see anything wrong with it, but he had been reminded that toddlers changed their minds about their likes all the time.
"It's baby." He whispered, looking at the printed cup. Paw Patrol characters decorated the sides of the sippy cup. "Don't want to be baby. I want to be a big boy." His eyes looked up at Harry's, the color strikingly similar to his own as his brows furrowed.
"What demean, mate?" he looked at the food. "Nothin' too baby about it. Looks like a great meal that mumma made for us. Don't you like Paw Patrol?" the man reached out to brush some of the curls from his son's face, heart clenching a bit. He was the perfect mix of his younger self and his wife. He was growing up much to fast for Harry's liking. It felt like just the other day that he had been in the baby sling while Harry did the dishes, trying to keep him asleep by singing as to not disturb an exhausted Y/N who had just fallen asleep on the couch.
"It's baby." He looked down, kicking his feet. The light up shoes activated as they hit against the side of the table, feeling a little shy with his father's attention. "Want a big cup like you. Please?" His little voice tugged at his heartstrings, the earnest want in his tone making him purse his lips.
"Well... we can, but I have to say, I may steal the cup for myself." He sighed, looking at it in faux longing. "I've always wanted a cup like that. It's too cool for me though. Besides, it makes sure there's no spills. Y'don't want to get all sticky with the juice if it spills over, right?" He rubbed over his little cheek, watching as he visibly worked through what his daddy had said. It was a wonder to observe, seeing someone so new to life have such obvious emotions and though processes on his face.
"You like the cup?" He peeped. "It's cool?" his hands tugged at the bottom of his shirt as he looked at the cup Harry had taken in his hand. Seeing his father show interest meant it must be cool.
"I do. It's the coolest, and besides.. Mumma looked for ages for this cup for you." He smiled. "Why don't you use It for a while and we can get you a big cup in a few weeks, okay? I may steal the cup if you don't want to use it."
"No, Daddy! It's mine!" giggles left his now bright eyes. "You ca borrow it but.. it's cool. You said so. " The chubby hands reached for the cup which the man handed over, feigning hesitation.
"Okay, my lovely. But you better watch your back. I may come and take it."
#jarofstyles#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smut#harry writing#harry styles imagine#harry drabble#harry styles blurb#dad!harry#dadrry#dad harry styles#dad harry#parent Harry#Harry blurb#Harry blurbs#Harry styles fluff#harry styles fic#Harry styles au#Harry styles blurbs
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Cuddles
sorry i wrote this in 10 minutes, the inspiration struck me while studying 😭
warnings: kissing, fluff!! tooth rotting sweetness
wc: <1k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Cuddles!" harry whined, sitting at the bed cross-legged. You were sat across the room from him, typing on the couch.
"Harry, I'm working" you repeated the same sentence you'd been telling him since you started working, when he had started asking for cuddles.
"But I want cuddles. And kisses too now."
"Harry please, this'll be done in just a minute, please baby" you told him, still looking at the screen.
"You've been telling me that for so long! It's been an hour! Come here now or I'll die of lack of affection."
You smiled, rolling your eyes at his childishness.
"Hey, don't roll your eyes. Do you not care if I live or die?"
"Seriously?" you eyed him.
"Yes. It's a virus that I've gotten recently since m' lovie's not giving me affection"
"Harry-that's-I--alright, fine! But just for 10 minutes, okay? i have to finish this today."
"Yes, yes. Come now" he smiled, lifting the blanket to invite you to snuggle with him.
You put your laptop down, and made your way to him, getting under the comforter. He kissed your cheek, and you both wrapped your hands around each other. His thigh draped over your waist, caging you in, hilding you as close to him as possible.
You both kissed , feeling so much warm and comfortable. Pressing your foreheads together, ypu smiled as you basked in his warmth. His presence. His addictive smell. Him.
"Forget your work, lovie. I'm not letting you go till morning" you wanted to argue, but felt so spellbound by him, you surrendered, quickly falling asleep in his arms as he held you close.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
tell me if you like this, or if it's straight up shit!
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Birthday
In which Harry has to have the last word... and a better present.
"There's my girl," he sings, a wide smile expeditiously appearing on his face, "my birthday girl."
Her smile is shy, which is ironic considering her outfit is lathered so dramatically in bright colors it could singlehandedly blind anyone within a 5 mile radius. Nonetheless though she skips over to Harry, wrapping her arms around his leg best she can.
Despite the animosity between the two of you and the not-so-subtle hard feelings, there's no fighting the smirk that creeps up on you when she squeals in amusement. Harry's got her in a cradle now, swinging her back and forth before sitting her on his hip. Their bond is so special and he's so effortlessly good with her. You almost forget how you were fighting the urge to throw a handful of plastic spoons at him under a minute ago.
"Can't believe you're turning fifty seven," he teases, "you're a little old lady!"
"M'turning five," she giggles, "still a baby!"
"What!" his dramatized gasp pulls a belly laugh right out of her, "mumma, is this th'tallest baby you've ever seen?!"
Your nod in agreement is emphatic as you pair it with a pretend shocked gasp, which only makes her laugh harder. She's squealing once Harry starts tickling under her chin; writhing sporadically in her spot on his hip as she's got nowhere to run to seek refuge. But eventually he relinquishes his grip after she begs for mercy, setting her back down on the floor before sending her off to check if any guests had began to trickle in.
On the counter he's placed two bags; both generously filled and near overflowing. His grip was so tight on the handles earlier he may have even lost feeling in his knuckles halfway on the walk to the front of the house.
"Did you get the candles?"
Now he's definitely lost feeling in his knuckles but not from carrying cheap plastic, but more-so because he's barely been 10 minutes in the house and you're already needling him.
"Candles?" his words come out in an annoyed exhale, "Y'never asked me about candles, (Y/N). If y'asked, I would've got them."
If he wasn't so well accustomed to the sound of it, he'd almost miss your exasperated groan as he started unpacking the shopping bags onto the kitchen counter.
It's obvious you're in a mood. He can tell by the tenseness in your stature and how frenetic you're moving around the kitchen island. Had you greeted him with a little more cordiality, he'd have complimented your over-achieving decoration execution. The house, inside and out, really looked beautiful.
"I did," you huff before undoing a package of paper napkins, "I asked you twice. Don't do that, Harry."
"Do what?"
"Berate me," you snap, "or tell me I didn't do something I know I did."
He throws his head back and lets out a long breath, "Y'don't even talk t'me on a good day, and now you're telling me y'asked me for candles? Like I'd forget candles for m'daughters birthday."
"Wouldn't be the first time you forgot something important."
"Oh fuck you f'that, really," you've managed to get him riled up in record time - a whopping 3 and a half minutes, "bloody unbelievable, you are, y'know?"
"Oh I am? Me - unbelievable?"
"I walk in and immediately it's th'bitching and the-"
Honestly he could drag on and on if time permitted. Once he gets going he finds it hard to bring it to a full stop. And usually, these arguments tend to get drawn out for that exact reason. He's promptly interrupted though when he hears a soft clicking of shoes and a familiar little voice roam in from the kitchen archway.
There's no need for him to turn around to see who it is. And she knows better by now than to say anything. Since the fighting initially became a household staple she's gotten pretty skilled in hallway loitering and incognito eavesdropping. How much she's already heard is unclear, but he's gonna table the conversation for now and act like it never happened. So are you.
"My friends are here!"
Sometimes it feels kind of like having an entirely separate identity. You often find yourself wondering if Harry ever feels the same way. When angel baby is around, it's kind of like switching off a light or getting caught doing something you shouldn't be. Because when she spawns in the room mid-argument, the energy shifts and you find yourself smiling a little too hard and over-compensating a bit too much.
And when she leaves, it's right back to the regular scheduled programming. You don't remember exactly when the turning point was that resulted in this; neither of you being able to stomach looking at the other, constantly arguing, going jab for jab, saying the worst thing that comes to mind out of spite or with the goal of tearing each other down.
"Not done talking about this," it's just like Harry to try and have the last word as he follows angel baby out of the room, "can y'table it for her birthday? Can y'manage that?"
It was an intentionally halfway-out-of-the-room delivered line, largely so you'd have no time to quip back at him with a snide comment or off-color remark. Because as soon as you follow him out to say something in rebuttal, you're stepping into an influx of people holding different-sized gifts in the middle of the front entrance.
It's almost like he's challenging you. Of course you can table it.
At least, you thought you could table it.
It's so irritating how easy it is for him to compartmentalize. It doesn't phase him at all that you were at each other's throats earlier. At least that's how it comes across in the way he seamlessly works the room; all cool and convivial with the inviting hugs and enthusiastic small talk. More likely than not, he's carved out 5 minutes for each guest tenfold. Whether it's an act or not, it really gets under your skin.
"Here petal," Harry encourages eagerly, handing an oversized professionally wrapped gift, "s'from me."
She's sat in an awkwardly shaped circle alongside a couple friends from school, giggling as Harry places the box in front of her. Her eyes light up merely at the size of it. The box itself is almost as tall as she is, and what 5 year old wouldn't gawk at a lavish gift that towers over them when sitting down. It was arguably the most predictable move right out of the 'separated parents' playbook.
"Had to get the biggest one, right?"
Beside you he stands, phone up to record as he watches angel baby rip the once perfect wrapping paper completely to pieces. For a second you think he doesn't hear you. In fact, he doesn't even bat an eye at the remark you just made beneath your breath.
"S'a birthday gift... fo' her birthday," and he says it through gritted teeth and a pompous smile, "but g'on and make it about you, if you'd like."
"Think you've got that bit covered," you nod slowly in rhetoric in attempt to depict this conversation as passive, "you know, trying to outdo me with a splashy gift and all."
Unbeknownst to you, angel baby's eyes are training your lips with every word that falls from them. Stood in a box in front of her is the set outdoor doll house she'd been pining for as of late. And she doesn't seem to care. She pays no attention to it at all, even when the chorus of ooing and ahhing erupts from her intimate circle of friends and their parents. The facade of casual conversation between you and Harry has completely vacated, it's obvious in how the bickering has become more hushed and the vein on Harry's forehead begun peeking out.
You're fighting on her birthday and she's noticed. The topic that's gotten you both so hot is a mystery to her, but that doesn't keep her from trying to conjure up an answer. Even right now she's thinking about it, as Anne places a beautifully decorated sheet cake down in front of her at the patio table. The number 5 stands firmly in the middle, romantically adorned by sporadically placed individual flames dancing all around it as everyone sings happy birthday off key.
"Ok lovie," Harry cheers, "g'head 'n make a big wish!"
Both of her hands press flatly on the table, propping her up a good amount as she teeters on her chair so that she's appropriately hovering over the cake. Leaning in to grab a photo, she smiles sweetly before closing her eyes. If she's gonna make a birthday wish, she wants it to be good. She wants it to actually come true.
"I wish," and she pauses to adjust the flower crown that's lopsided on her head, "that mommy and daddy didn't hate each other."
When the words spill from her lips before she leans in to blow out her candles, your complexion goes ghost-white. And Harry thinks he might be sick.
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Hi love! Don’t know if you’re taking requests but If you want to write some fluff stuff, could you write something about Harry and Reader doing stuff like in this video? It could be so cuteeee🥺🥺 https://twitter.com/theharrylibrary/status/1521163649712275456?s=21&t=SvkQW4wsxu8c5MSiPKxPOg
stop this is the cutest thing ever the trailer video has me sobbing i can't wait to see it!!!!!!
but yes yes yes say you and harry are just having a lazy, domestic day. just a day full of house chores, laying around, and just being with each other. it was later in the day and you both were super hungry so you cooked up a quick dinner and ate together before deciding to watch a movie on the couch and drink a couple glasses of wine.
youre laying on the couch, one of your favorite movies playing on the tv, snuggling the love of your life. harry insisted he be the one held tonight because of course he did. so he's sitting in between your legs, your arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding him tightly against your chest and you both laughed at your favorite scenes in the movie
once it was over you decided to clean up the mess you made in the kitchen together. you both got the dishwasher going and decided to light a candle to make the room smell sweet and after one too many glasses of wine, you both were feeling a bit floaty. we all know harry gets extra cuddly and lovie when he drinks so he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him, humming against your lips, "dance with me"
"there's no music" you giggled
"doesn't matter"
he began to sway you back and forth to the music of the dishwasher echoing throughout the room, your lips brushing up against his ever so slightly
"i love you so much" he hummed
"i love you so much" you grinned
"no like 'm serious, dunno what I'd do without you" his voice was raspy and deep but so full of love and adoration as he looked at you, "i got so lucky, baby"
your tummy erupted in butterflies and then he kissed you softly, slow and sweet, both of you just enjoying the moment and enjoying each other's company. you pulled away slowly, opening your eyes and looking at his pretty face. you grinned lovingly at him before laying your head on his chest and allowing him to sway you back in forth in your kitchen and ahhfjshfjdhjk i want this so bad
#one direction#harry#harry styles#harry styles fluff#one direction fluff#harry fluff#harry blurbs#harry styles blurbs#one direction blurb#one direction blurbs#dont worry darling
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in regards to perv!marauders . . . theyd so get off on the more innocent pics of you— it could be a polaroid of you smiling and it’d be covered in cum by the end of the summer bcos your innocence is so hot to them
i am losing my mind at the thought of this. the mere thought of corrupting you torments perv!marauders and something about the contrast of their filth paired with your seemingly pure disposition makes their cock throb.
the photo usually always comprises you beaming, presumably looking up at them through the camera, batting your eyelashes prettily, looking so radiant and cute. i can picture a photo of you leaning against their palm, their large hands caressing your cheek while you peer up at them. maybe it’s that sleepy look of yours; maybe it’s your flushed face or your puffy, watery eyes; or perhaps it’s the gloss on your lips that makes you look so girly and kissable that has them groaning into their pillow as they fist their aching cock late into the night, feverish and frantic to cum to the sight of you.
it's not only your innocence that gets them off, but it's the thought of ruining it that drives them to the edge. all of them would repeatedly fantasize about making you just as desperate as they are for you. they want nothing more than for you to look up at them—a betrayed, foggy look in your lust-filled eyes—begging them to take you again because three rounds simply aren’t enough and you're far too addicted to their cocks stretching out your ruined cunt to stop.
#perv!marauders crying kink is something that needs to be discussed because it very much exists i fear#remus lupin smut#remus lupin x reader#sirius black smut#sirius black x reader#james potter smut#james potter x reader#poly!marauders#poly!marauders smut#poly!marauders x reader#harry potter smut#harry potter x reader#remus lupin imagine#sirius black imagine#james potter imagine#harry potter imagine#remus lupin blurb#sirius black blurb#james potter blurb#harry potter blurb#remus lupin fluff#sirius black fluff#james potter fluff#harry potter fluff#remus lupin fanfic#sirius black fanfiction#james potter fanfiction#remus lupin#sirius black#james potter
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