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erodasfishtacos · 3 months

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The Body Factory (sexclubowner!h)

Hellloooo!

It’s been a long while since I posted here. I am still going strong on patreon with 4-5 one shots a month with anywhere from 8 to 14k words usually (sometimes more) + blurbs. I decided to released one of my new tropes, just part one on here and if it sounds good maybe consider joining for $3USD a month to read more parts of this and many others coming up!!!

prompt: yn doesn’t feel fufilled in her relationship and so her fiancé, Arthur, comes up with an idea to help but it doesnt turn out as either of them expected aka sex club owner!h

word count: 8k

warnings: under-negotiation, power play, mean h, choking, safeword, cheating but not really yet

🛑 there is a scene that could potentially be triggering so i am going to put a brief summary at the end of the fic if you’d like to check whether it’s a appropriate read for yourself. 🛑

Author’s Note: I have had this idea on my mind for months and have been so extremely excited to share it with you. It has really really been inspiring to me as I don’t have a trope like this. I hope you enjoy.

Arthur was nice.

Arthur was a safe choice.

It’s why when YN’s father introduced them, it didn’t really seem like an option to turn down the invitation to go out to dinner at the swankiest restaurant in town.

The date had been so incredibly unexciting that YN had no doubt that he would not ask for a second one.

They had nothing in common, the space was often filled with an awkward silence, and averted gazes to the walls or out the window next to their seating.

Arthur was nice.

Arthur was polite, he held the door and paid for the bill before walking her to her car with the chaste kiss to her cheek.

It absolutely boggled her mind when her father informed her the next day that Arthur had told her that he had an amazing time and was going to ask her for a second date in the next upcoming days.

YN hated the mere idea of disappointing her parents, she had already let them down enough with her career choice not to join the family business

:readmore:

instead becoming neonatal nurse, despite that being a massive accomplishment, it wasn’t praised because she didn’t go to be a lawyer like both her mother and father.

It felt like most of the time she was on thin ice with her parents because of her education and career choice, even down to the car she drove (they thought it was too sporty and not practical enough) which left her in a precarious position.

She relied on them for help with her student loans.

YN was still trying to get her feet on the ground with her apartment landlord just bumping up her rent by nearly five-hundred pounds, her car note, among all the other things that came with being an adult that she wasn’t financially capable of managing yet.

Her parents agreed to pay for her school loans.

However, it came with silet threat of staying in their good gracious or they would cut her off at any moment, they had threatened it enough when she got into nursing school and informed them that she would be attending, she must have heard them threaten her inheritance half a million times.

Arthur was her ticket back into her parent’s limelight.

He was fresh out of law school but he was incredibly intelligent, good at what he did, and had multiple firms vying for him to join their legal council but he had chosen YN’s family’s business because of their well-known reputation.

Arthur came from old money, which had given him an extremely privileged life and a headstart into success as soon as he was born.

He was the great-grandson of an oil tycoon whom he had reaped the benefits ever since.

The second date happened, then the third, then the fourth.

No spark.

No chemistry.

Atleast on YN’s end because Arthur seemed happy as a clam in their relationship, he praised YN to anyone who would listen, and was consistently bragging about their life to anyone that would listen to him.

He was nice to her.

He remembered important dates, brought her flowers to work, and had dinner made when she walked in the door on nights that she worked late shifts and he got home before her.

Time passes and they celebrate their first year anniversary, then their second, then their third.

On the fourth was when he got down on one knee and professed his love to her in front of all their family and friends on Christmas Day at an extravagant party at his parent’s estate.

The diamond ring that he slid onto her finger was ridiculous, too big to not just be flaunting wealth, and it wasn’t a style that she liked but she lied and told him that she loved it.

There was an emptiness in her chest when he proposed, she was teary-eyed but she couldn’t determine whether it was from happiness or dread that she was going to spend the rest of her life with the man in front of her.

It wasn’t his fault in the slightest.

Arthur was just Arthur.

He lacked depth, there was nothing behind his twinkling brown eyes beside law, money, and judgement.

Arthur treated her nicely consistently, they barely ever fought, and he never raised his voice at her.

When he got frustrated, he just got an exasperated tone and took time to himself in his office until he had calmed down enough to talk.

But that was once in a blue moon.

They’ve never had a blow-out because he was so agreeable and accommodating.

That’s exactly what was missing from their relationship.

YN didn’t crave toxicity, not one bit, she wanted a healthy relationship with positive communication, understanding, and all the things that make that up.

YN did crave excitement, humor, sexual tension, and the type of relationship that kept her on her toes, got her adrenaline pumping and making her stomach turn in nervous knots because she didn’t always know what to expect out of her partner.

Arthur was as predictable as a clock, had no spontaneity up his sleeve, and his sense of humor was nonexistent.

YN had a partner that she’d been with in college named Klein.

He wasn’t the love of her life, not by a long shot, but he had been wild, on the edge of insane half-of-the-time, and always kept their relationship exciting.

He would show up at her part-time cafe job, with a fake excuse to her boss about a death in his family, and he needed her support.

When YN would walk out to his motorcycle with him, concerned about his grandmother’s death, he would only smile at her, inform her that his grandmother has been dead for fifteen years, and that he was going to take her on a hike to see a waterfall she’d mentioned wanting to see once in passing.

But then there was their sex life, it was phenomenal and unlike the few half-hapzard experience she had before him.

He was confident, dominant, and introduced her to things that she used to not even have the nerve to say out loud let alone do.

It was him who introduced her to BDSM and they explored it for nearly two and a half years of their relationship.

YN did research while they were together and after the fact, she had even attended a few virtual training sessions to learn about correct techniques, safety precautions, and learning the dynamic of power play which engrossed her to no end.

However, when Klein requested they open their relationship, that had been such an unexpected turn-off that she no longer felt the connection that was there before.

The end of the relationship was amicable, they were still friends on social media and liked each others posts but it was at that point they realized they wanted different things and they couldn’t provide that to one another.

Where Klein wanted flexibility, uncertainty, and fluidity.

YN wanted regimen, structured, and a deep sense of connection with one person.

She did not want multiple doms nor did she want her dom to have multiple submissives.

She wanted all the attention on her, her dom would be absolutely captivated by her and be so connected to her physically, mentally, spiritually that they only want her.

Her ideal dom would never mention sharing.

Which isn’t to shame it because it was more common than not to have an open relationship, partner sharing, and swapping.

YN loved the idea of becoming comfortable with someone enough that she could be a brat which she wasn’t an easy submissive she had come to learn.

Her dominant had to work for her submission, sometimes she crumbled quickly and other times it took multiple punishments until the smirk was wiped from her face and replaced with tears on her puffy cheeks from the pinpricks of pain.

After Klein, she had gone on a few dates, some she even hooked up with but she never clicked enough with them to talk about anything like that.

And so she wrapped it up into a nice, neat box and tucked it into the back of her mind because she would find the right partner who would be compatible sexually with her.

Right?

Arthur and her had no sexual chemistry.

Arthur was just as polite in the bedroom as he was outside of it, he never put her in a unique position, and preferred to rotate between the missionary and doggy style.

He would occasionally go down on her but he didn’t know what he was doing so it didn’t feel like much of anything as most of the time he couldn’t even locate her clit.

Which meant fingering was out of the question because he didn’t even know the g-spot existed.

Anytime she managed to orgasm, it was from her own hand, getting herself off because she was past the point of asking him to try to do it.

Arthur did not have a high sex drive and YN felt guilty for being thankful for it.

He wasn’t doing anything wrong, he was trying, and it was so unsatisfying that YN felt like her skin itched sometimes because she hadn’t realized until Arthur how much she craved sexual intimacy with her significant other.

Again, Arthur initiated once a week, sometimes twice or sometimes not for a few weeks when his work is really busy.

YN was six years into a relationship of unfilled desire, disconnect, and a lack of satisfaction which she would have never seen for herself at only being twenty-nine years old.

The wedding was set for fourteen months away, at a vineyard on the coast of Italy.

It was decided by everyone but her as with most things she felt like nowadays.

YN had been scrolling through a blog post when something caught her eye.

It was written by a female who had a similar lack of connection with her partner in the bedroom but wanted more.

The writer had described that as soon as she asked if they could experiment with BDSM that their relationship had completely shifted, they were more in love than ever, and their sex life was more amazing than it had been in nearly a decade.

It was the motivation that YN needed to have the conversation with Arthur, with the hope that it would ignite a flame that had yet to be struck between the two of them.

YN loved Arthur, she wanted to be in love with him but she couldn’t honestly say she was at this point in their relationship.

Arthur had been surprised by the conversation, over dinner one night, if the way he sputtered red wine onto his crisp white button-up was an indicator.

His eyes had gone wide in a look of almost horror and he cleared his throat a handful of times while they discussed it in more detail.

“I just feel like it would be something fun to try out,” YN tries to keep it casual, to not let on to how much she desired this or knew that she would already love it.

“Erm, yeah. I would be open to it,” Arthur had agreed sheepishly, putting down his fork and knife.

“No, I do not want you to feel pressured at all! I just -” YN begins to try to soothe because she had not meant to get such a reaction of concern more than lust out of her fiance.

He chuckles kindly, smiling at her as he reaches across the table to hold her hand, “We can try it, if that’s what you want. I am open to whatever will make you happy, sweetie pie.”

Sweetie pie….

YN tried not to blatantly cringe every time he called her that.

It did not work out.

They did not even get a few minutes into foreplay when Arthur backed out, saying that he just didn’t feel like he knew what to do, and that he’d prefer if they just did their normal thing.

YN agreed, trying to swallow the disappointed lump in her throat because she didn’t want to guilt him in to trying anything he wasn’t into.

They didn’t discuss it again after that for a long while.

Arthur wasn’t blind to the shift after that night.

He now knew that he was not satisfying a need that YN desired and she had just seemed more subdued since he had called it off but was trying to hide it because he knew that she wasn’t trying to make him feel bad about not wanting it.

It had been on his mind though.

“A sex club?” YN’s eyes nearly buldge from her sockets, puting down her glass of water and ignoring the splashes it leaves on her hand because what had Arthur just recommended they try?

“Yes. A BDSM club or a kink club they call it. Maybe if I see other people doing it or we get into the right atmosphere, it will work better. At least off the start?” Arthur seems just as nervous as her, he hadn’t touched his food.

“And…I just…” YN was at a loss for words because this is just the most unexpected turn of events.

“Maybe I can learn from others. Really get good at it for you, you know?” He suggests, his eyes looking anywhere but at hers.

“Yeah, yeah let’s do it.”

The Body Factory was the club that Arthur had decided after doing his research.

He needed somewhere secretive, exclusive, and with iron-clad NDA’s so that no one could use this against him in his profession which was fair enough.

That’s where The Body Factor came into play.

There were guidelines to a membership:

You must make over a hundred-and-fifty thousand pounds a year.

You were sign and resign an NDA every three months.

A deposit of ten thousand pounds, it will not be refunded if any rules or regulations are broken.

You will send in health screenings every two months, proof of birth control (if female), and a background check.

You may not belong to any other clubs during the time of your membership at The Body Factory.

YN was quite shocked that Arthur had dished out that amount of money on the deposit for something that they weren’t sure that they were going to like nor want to continue to visit even though the membership spans for a year at a time.

“If we go, hate it, and decide to never go back, just consider it a really expensive date night,” Arthur had assured her with a chuckle, she knew of his wealth but even this seemed a bit like frivolous spending but little did she know it was just his desperation to make her happy.

The club was in the packing district of all places, tucked back in between massive factories, some that were still open and operating, others that had been abandoned for years now.

It was actually in an old clothing factory that had been renovated to resemble any other high-end club, from the inside there would be no way that anyone could even tell except for the incredibly high ceilings at some points.

However, the location in the city and of building choice gave a lot of privacy of entering and exiting, it wasn’t advertised nor did it have any sign indicating of their presence.

It was a maze of alleyways until the entrance appeared, a dingy door that was rusted and gave no indication of what was inside, someone walking past would have never looked twice or thought anything of the building nor the entrance.

Everything was matte black, dark, and dimmed.

There were occasional deep emerald green accents but everything was sleek, modern, and simple but in the most elegant way as they walked in.

YN’s heart was in her throat.

Where people going to be fucking right when they walk in?

Or people being led around on leashes right off the bat?

Arthur may pass out.

However, there’s a front desk, almost like at an office with a woman dressed in a incredibly fitted sleek black dress with smooth, curled hair, and makeup like it was done by a professional, she had to be a model because she was gorgeous as she smiled widely and checked them in.

They had to show their licenses, hand over physical copies of their screenings, NDA’s even though they had to sign them virtually too.

There were two security guards in black suits with earpieces standing by large, heavy dark oak doors with their hands crossed in front of them.

This seemed like a movie or just not real with how sophisticated this whole process was.

“Enjoy,” Penelope, the receptionist had chirped with the whitest, most perfect smile she’d ever seen.

Arthur seemed a bit awestruck for a moment and YN couldn’t even fault him for it.

The two guards move aside to open the doors, nodding for them to go in before closing them firmly behind them.

YN finds herself reaching for Arthur’s hand, nervous and shaky with new experience anxiety and adrenaline that she was finally getting back into what she wanted even more so.

There were people mingling, sipping on drinks, and all fully clothed.

It wasn’t until Arthur informed her, “Play starts at ten, the first hour is to introduce, mingle, meet.”

Ah, that makes sense.

It almost builds the tension, YN feels like she can taste it on the tip of her tongue.

They walk over to the bar, another beautiful women greets them right away, laying a napkin down in front of both of them, “Newbies?”

“Yes,” Arthur nods, pointing to himself first, “I’m Arthur, this is YN, my fiance.”

The bartender quirks an eyebrow as she not-so-subtly scans them, “Nice to meet you two. I’m Raven. I bartend Friday through Sunday here. What are you drinking?”

“A moscow mule,” YN asks, maybe some alcohol will loosen her nerves.

“It’s a dry club, babe,” Raven smiles patiently as her long fingernails click against the smooth surface.

“Oh,” YN replies in surprise, looking behind her at the shelves only to see syrups for flavoring but no actual liquor bottles or draft taps to be seen, “A sprite?”

“Water, please,” Arthur adds as he rubs YN’s thigh, squeezing it in reassurance, “I forgot to tell you. No alcohol here. Everybody needs to be sober when playing.”

“That makes sense,” YN hums in agreement, never having actually thought about it much, but it could definitely get cloudy on consent when alcohol was being consumed in regards to playing which was a dangerous and unsafe mixture.

They sit, observed for a few minutes before a few people begin to flock towards them, greeting them and asking surface level questions until there’s a deep, almost eerie chime that echoes for a long moment through the club over the soft jazz.

It was signifying that the clock had struck ten.

Everyone quickly wraps up their conversations before moving to different areas of the rooms, some disappearing down hallways.

The atmosphere had changed significantly in a very quick spurt of time as people started undressing, kissing, moving as if they’d just gotten permission.

There was a couple of the couch across the room that Athur and YN were observing from their barstools.

The two started out slow, sensual, like any normal couple behind close doors but when the woman knots her hair into her partner’s hair and demands his mouth move lower, he obliges and Arthur gasps softly at the roughness displayed.

YN’s been aroused for the last five minutes of watching them but doesn’t make an effort to act on it, not yet atleast, and once the couple move so that the man is laying on the couch, the woman kneeling over his face, it changes her vantage point but it catches on something else.

In the corner, further back into the room, there was a man sitting in the corner where there was barely any lighting, dim and his goal was to obviously stay in the background.

No one was approaching him nor was he interacting with anyone else.

YN knew there was a no phone policy but this man was sat, scrolling boredly through his phone and only occasionally glancing up to observe the people in action around him before eyes dart back down like it wasn’t entertaining at all.

He wasn’t aroused, at least from what YN could see, and he was in a tight, well-fitted suit but his dress shirt was barely buttoned, open enough to show the definition of his pectoral muscles, the sharpness of his collarbones, and a variety of darkly inked tattoos.

He was fucking beautiful.

YN realizes she oogling him but can get away with it because it appears to Arthur that she’s still watching the couple like he is.

However, when the man looks up after a few moments once again, his eyes are instantly locked on YN.

She can’t tell what color they are from here but she knows they’re light, twinkling under the barely there light of a sconce on the wall and it’s smouldering as he doesn’t blink nor waver with embarrassment of being caught staring at her.

YN quickly diverted her eyes back to the couple, her heart was pounding, and a sense of thrill shot up her spine even though it was inappropriate.

She wasn’t here for new partners.

She was here to learn and explore with her own.

YN tries to play it casual when Raven refills the drink she nervously chugged, “Why does that guy have his phone?”

Raven’s eyes darted to the man before grinning, “That’s Harry. He’s the owner, my boss. He supervises the free play.”

“Free play?”

“Out in the common area, it’s considered free play. If you claim a room, you are in private play with whatever partners you bring back there. Harry just makes sure everything stays safe and consensual out here. He gets bored though and plays Candy Crush on his phone.”

YN cracks her own smile at that, trying to imagine the man trying to get rid of sugary sweets and getting frustrated when he loses a round.

“Does he not play?” Arthur asks curiously, now his attention has changed to Harry as well.

“Not often,” Raven informs them, leaning her elbow on the counter, “I can’t remember the last time he did. I’d say at least seven years ago, at least in the free play but he doesn’t reserve rooms or anything. He made it clear that he doesn’t find at least any of the current members interesting enough to engage with.”

“That’s interesting, considering he must have an interest in it, if this is his club,” Arthur replies to Raven before turning back to the scene of the couple, another member had joined the couple and was currently giving the male some startling rough looking bruised kisses and bites to his stomach and thighs.

Arthur was getting aroused by the look and feel of it, he reached over and brazenly took her hand, and led her to his groin where he was hard in his trousers, encouraging her to palm over him which she did as she tried to get into it.

This…This atmosphere, these people, they excited her.

Arthur still did not.

They manage to get to a couch, Arthur appears to be getting so turned on that foreplay isn’t in his realm of ideas because he’s hiking up YN’s dress around her hips and positioning her on top of him which is a new position (in all six years they’ve never done cowgirl) but still, her arousal is barely boiling above surface level.

YN licks her palm, reaching down to help moisten herself because Arthur was not doing anything to spark her to get wet.

It was actually making her more distressed that despite the scenario, she still didn’t feel the connection to her fiancé.

When she slides down, it’s fine, he was an average size so even without much lubrication, it didn’t feel like a stretch or burn when she started to move her hips but it wasn’t as pleasant as if she was sopping, dripping down her thighs.

Arthur glances to the side at one point, noticing that the male from the throuple was now pounding into the original partner with his had tight around her throat, pushing her further into the couch without mercy as she tried to whine through stutter breaths.

YN felt like she was being watched the entire time, which of course she was being watched by other members but it felt different, when she blinks around and notices that Harry has his gaze honed in on her with a twisted scowl of almost disapproval, it confuses her.

However, she’s brought back into the moment when Arthur pants out, “Can- I want to try that.”

When YN follows his gaze, he’s referring to the choking, and yeah, maybe that will light that match.

“Okay, yeah,” YN agrees as she brushes her hair off of her shoulders, wishing he would have taken this dress off of her instead of shoving it upwards where it felt confining.

Arthur smiles at her, leaning up to give her a chaste kiss which didn’t match their situation whatsoever that they were in at the moment.

YN was feeling anxious about the judgment other members might put onto them but not because she cared that people watched but because she knew Arthur and her were nowhere nearly as fluid, practiced, or elegant as the other members whom seemed to just melt into one another easily.

Arthur had never tried it before but his hand came up to her throat, he’s getting close to his own release which means that he’s not as focused, eyes getting a glazed over appearance.

YN soon realizes that he has no idea what he’s doing as he begins to cut off her airway by cupping her throat in the center instead of at the sides.

It hurts, she can’t breathe but not the way that feels tingly, excited, it feels like he could quite possibly suffocate her because of his carelessness.

They had talked about proper methods and he clearly hadn’t retained that information.

A few black dots begin to dance across her line of vision and her body starts to trigger a flight or fight response which she wants to use her safe word but she can’t speak.

YN takes to dig her nails into his hand but he doesn’t seem to understand that it’s not out of lust.

A true fear begins to take hold that something horrible will happen to her in less than a minute.

He’s truly going to injure her.

YN is in a full-fledged panic induced state.

Then suddenly, without warning, a strong arm is being wrapped around her middle and a big, ring-clad hand grips Arthur where it was around her neck so hard he yelps in pain and releases his grip.

The person is physically lifting YN off of Arthur’s lap, trying to steady her on her feet but they feel like jello and she feels light-headed, the room wouldn’t stop spinning.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” The person’s voice is deep, raspy, and incredibly pissed off, “What the fuck is your problem?”

YN can’t even bring herself to look at Arthur right now, her full support into Harry’s side as she notices the two securities guards walking in.

“C’mon, let me sit you down. You’re okay but I want to check you out, alright? Yeah, c’mon, pet,” He encourages in a much softer tone, gentle and trying to comfort me as she struggles to catch her breath.

It takes a long second to realize that she’s crying, tears streaming down her cheeks, and fuck, she is so embarassed as every other member had stopped playing.

“We’re done for the night. We’ll re-open tomorrow at the normal hours of operation,” Harry announces to the room at large before looking to Raven, “Go close down the private rooms.”

Raven nods, no longer as smiley and bubbling but an expression of concern as she watches what’s going on with YN.

“Hey, darling. Can you tilt your head up?” Harry asks quietly once he sits her down in the same corner that he had been in, away from the group.

YN whines because her neck is aching, she doesn’t want to do anything as the drop in adrenaline has made her more exhausted than she’s felt in a long time.

“I know, I know,” Harry simpers in an unpredictably cooing tone, he taps his thumb on her chin to signal her to tilt it up and she obliges.

Harry prods gently at her neck, focusing on the center where the pressure has been, “Any sharp pains? Anything feel off or wrong like you need to go to the hospital?”

YN shakes her head, a fresh round of tears.

She knew that she wasn’t injured or seriously hurt.

YN felt more traumatized mentally than anything else.

“I need words, want to hear your pretty voice,” Harry orders in a honey sweet tone, eyes hyper-focused on her like they were in the beginning of the night.

His eyes were green.

Close to the accent color of the club.

“I’m okay,” YN manages to speak out, throat dry and scratchy.

Raven appears with a glass of water to hand to Harry before giving them their space again.

YN is about to reach for the glass but Harry is already moving it towards her lips for her, “Drink f’me.”

It’s strangely intimate as he tilts the glass, eyes watching her carefully and a sense of guilt sets in that she likes that Harry is tending to her, giving her his full attention.

“Is this a common occurrence? Between you two?”Harry doesn’t sound as kind anymore, his jaw muscle twitches slightly.

“Um, no. We came here to explore. I’m very much into this world and he isn’t. He’s told me he’s done his research in his free time but -“

“You’re telling me that you’ve never negotiated nor tried something like this and he full fledge tries choking?” Harry interrupts, outraged from where he stands up from squatting in front of her, “Did you ask or plan for that?”

YN shakes her head, a bit embarrassed that she was coming off as an amateur to someone…she felt an attraction to, felt intimidated by, and Arthur had ruined their experience here.

“No. We tried spanking a few times but he backed out. We were just supposed to come here to watch others so he could visual what all this looked like before putting it into action-“

Harry doesn’t let her finish as he storms away from her, his glare set right on Arthur who was sheepishly sitting back at the bar and nursing a drink as Raven talked to him.

YN’s heart rate starts to rise again when Arthur tenses, clearly being chewed out by Harry before her fiancé gets off his barstool and follows the club owners lead down the hallway.

YN rushes to the bar, Raven is already pouring her another sprite, “Calm down. He’s not going to hurt him or anything. They just need to have a discussion on whether or not Harry will revoke his membership.”

It feels ruined and it never even started.

All she can think about is that despite for a short amount of time she was getting what she asked from Arthur, there was still no god damn spark.

After a good half hour, the bar phone rings and Raven answers, murmuring a few words back into the receiver before having up.

“I’m going to take you back to his office now.”

Harry’s office was just as luxe, elegant as the rest of the club.

It was tense as soon as she stepped in the room and Raven left, closing the door behind her.

“I’ve decided not to revoke your joint membership after discussion with Arthur. However, there are contingencies if you would like to continue coming here. Are you willing to hear them? Arthur has already agreed to the terms.”

YN nods slowly, voice soft, “Yes.”

Harry keeps his face on her as he speaks, “I do not tolerate what happened here tonight in my club. Arthur has clearly proven that he isn’t educated enough to be able to have free access to the club and free play.”

“If you want to continue membership, Arthur will need to reserve a private room and lessons will be held until he fully grasps the concepts, displays understanding, and can play safely without supervision.”

“Who…Do you have instructors?” YN doesn’t think she wants another man involved in their sex life even in an educational aspect.

“Yes but I will be teaching the lessons,” Harry informs her, calm as ever, “I bring this up because I would need to be hands on, to demonstrate and display certain practice, power play dynamics but that is a lot to ask as I do not know your limits on sharing.”

YN’s speaking before she even realizes it, “Yes. We can do that.”

Harry’s lip quirks slightly before it disappears but it oddly enough seems like a reward.

“We can schedule. I will send the paperwork. I already have your questionnaires about hard limits, likes, dislikes, and willing to try. I want to make this clear, this will be purely educational and there will be no dynamic developing between me and you two.”

YN nods dumbly, at a loss for words because the mere thought of Harry domming her was a lick of a flame that she’d been missing so much.

“I will dom you with instructions interwoven for Arthur. We will try to keep everything minimal as I cannot stress enough that this is not anything but informative on my end to help improve your sex life as a couple.”

Three longs weeks pass before their first ‘lesson’.

Arthur voiced excitement about the instruction, never brought up the choking incident again, and never initiated any type of sex during this time either.

Everything was swept under the rug as usual in their relationship.

YN would never admit the fact that she had gotten herself off to the mere idea of Harry domming her because something about him had triggered something carnal, something near feral in her.

It’s more than she had even felt with Klein.

She knew it wouldn’t last forever but she was going to enjoy this to the best of her abilities.

YN only had excited nerves going into the night.

Harry had inquired more in the break of time about YN’s experience and was extremely pleased to realize that she wasn’t as much of a novice as he assumed.

Though she hadn’t experienced many partners or relationships within the community, her knowledge was expansive and deep enough to impress him.

Harry had texted her back with a simple message that had her core tingling enough that she had to rub her thighs together.

YN: Thank you for continuously checking in on my comfort and experience regarding these situations. I have many more concerns for Arthur as we’ve already discussed. If you have any more questions, feel free to ask!

Harry Styles: I do not plan to go easy on you. Unless you specifically want soft play for these experiences. I can be a softer dominant but my main modality is firm, mean, regimented with softer aftercare.

YN: You don’t scare me. ;)

She was already being bratty with him.

It sent a wave of good nerves through her as she waited for a reply to be sent to her inbox.

Harry Styles: It’s interesting that you’ve already started to decide to be bad for me when you don’t even know what I’m capable of, darling.

YN : I’m shaking.

YN: Terrified.

Harry Styles: I wish I could wrap my fingers around your throat right now. Show your fiancé the proper way to choke a god damn brat.

YN could feel herself pooling with arousal.

It felt a bit wrong but she reasoned enough with herself that it was all for the greater good of her relationship with Arthur but deep down she knew that was bullshit.

YN: You’re probably not much better.

Harry Styles: Quite honestly, haven’t worked with such a fucking disobedient bitch in a long time. I cannot wait to break you. A kitten who thinks they’re a big bad tiger.

YN: Fuck you.

Harry Styles: Kitty’s got claws.

Harry Styles: For now…

It felt bordering on inappropriate but YN reasoned again that Harry had made it clear that there isn’t anything happening, it is a strictly professional as a type of situation like this can be.

Saturday has come and YN wakes up to a text.

Harry Styles: Better wear something cute enough that I find you interesting enough to play with. Even if it’s just to teach.

YN rereads the message quite a few times and why is he so good at getting under her skin and she doesn’t even know him yet but it’s like he knows exactly how to wind her up.

YN: Black dress with tights.

Harry Styles: It’s good to know that you’re just another basic bitch.

YN: What will you be wearing then?

Harry Styles: That’s none of your fucking business. I call the shots, kitty. Not you.

YN: 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

Harry Styles: Good to know. Five spanks for the five emojis. Would you like to keep going?

She can’t even help herself

YN: 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

Harry Styles: Noted.

YN wants to reply, knowing he’s probably waiting but a tiny sliver of guilt starts to creep in when she thinks about Arthur because though she’s trying to convince herself this is perfectly fine.

It’s not.

Not with the emotions it makes her feel.

She hasn’t felt them in so long.

It scares her.

“Sweetie pie, are you having second thoughts? Should be getting ready,” Arthur steps out of the walk-in closet, adjusting the sleeve of his button up.

“No!” YN replies much too quickly, her tone high pitch, “Um, I lost track of time. I’ll get ready now.”

“Okay, I’m excited for this new experience with you,” He smiles sweetly, stepping over to press a kiss to her forehead.

It’s affectionate, loving, and she’s still thinking of other things than her fiancé.

YN decides on a black wide leg trouser with a corseted bodysuit that gave her tits the perfect push-up, she’s spray a very thin most of body glitter on her chest, she knew it would sparkle in the dim lighting.

She considered wearing the dress and tights to spite him but whatever, she’d be less easy access for him.

Arthur held her hand tightly as they entered The Body Factory.

YN was already searching for Harry, barely waving to Raven as Arthur leads them over but she doesn’t want a drink, she wants to play.

However her fiancé guide her to a stool, ordering for both of them as Raven has a look of curiosity as she slides them in front of him.

“Does he come out and get us?” Arthur asks Raven, looking around he doesn’t see him either.

Raven bites her lip, shaking her head with a chuckle, “No, I take you to your reserved room when ten hits.”

“What is it?” YN asks, unable to read what is going on the bartender's mind.

This conversation didn’t seem particularly funny.

“Nothing really. Harry just hasn’t offered private lessons for at least eight or nine years. Normally when couples have an incident like you did, Harry revoked their memberships without a second thought,” Raven informs them as she picks at a spot on the smooth surface of the bar absentmindedly.

“Why us?” YN wonders out loud, why after all that time did he make an exception.

“I wish I knew,” The bartender shrugs neutrally.

The deep chime rings out about forty-five minutes later.

YN cannot decipher whether she wants to throw up or jump up and down with excitement.

Especially when Raven guides them down a long hallway, then into another corridor until they reach a door with a sign that warns, “No members past this point. Private access only.”

“Um-“ Arthur goes to point out the sign, he was a rule follower to his core.

“It’s Harry’s private playroom that members can’t use but again, this is special circumstances,” Raven’s voice is hushed as she leads them into a surprisingly minimal room.

There were cabinets built sleekly into the walls where all toys and accessories must be held, a matte black.

Everything matched but there was a bigger prominence of the green accents that were more subtle in the main areas.

The play bench hardware matches everything else but the cushion is a luxe emerald.

The bed was…unlike anything she had ever seen.

It was massive but fit well in the spacious room.

High posts on all four corners with subtle hooks to place restraints in.

The mattress looked fluffy and giving, it looked as if the sheets were a black silk but the duvet was a very muted pattern of black and green diamonds.

YN was in love with space.

It was so much more than she was expecting.

“Holy shit,” Arthur gapes at the elegance, clearly he had been expecting something different too.

“Okay, when Harry comes in, he will already be in the dom headspace and so he wants me to give you reminders. Harry will respect your hard limits as he’s reviewed them before the session. You have received a list of his so please do the same.”

“Just as you can safeword out at any time without consequences, Harry can as well. He will use the same ‘red’ if need be and will check your colors throughout to ensure safe play.”

“For this first lesson, Arthur you will sit and observe. Harry will display a safe, typical scene of play to understand what that looks like with whatever kind of submissive YN is. You may also use your safeword at any time to stop the play.”

YN swallows because would he allow that?

Surprisingly, Arthur’s face is still clear and happy as he starts to walk over to an overstuffed chair in the corner of the room and smiles at YN, “Can’t wait.”

YN raises a shocked eyebrow at his willingness but nods at Raven to show she understands.

They’re silent as they wait for Harry.

She wasn’t given instruction and because she was a bit nervous, she perched herself on Arthur’s lap as he rubbed her thigh and kissed her shoulder blades occasionally.

Then there’s a shuffle outside the door, the door knob twisting and the door opening.

Harry looked ethereal.

He wasn’t wearing a tailored suit like before but leather boots with a bit of a heel, form-fitting jeans that make his lean quads look biteable, and a plain black shirt.

His arms had even more beautiful ink than YN realized.

After Harry closes the door, his eyes lock on hers, not even acknowledging her fiancé’s presence.

“Stand up,” Harry orders loudly, a bit startling.

YN obeys instantly, her heart was pounding in her eardrums like waves of the choppy ocean.

A cruel smirk tilts on his lips when he scans her up and down.

“Did I strike a nerve, pet? This isn’t a black dress and tights. Are you already starting off so insecure? And you think you can handle me. What a cute, pathetic little kitten,” His voice is venomous, steady, and she’s clinging onto every word.

Arthur’s clearly confused but stays silent.

“I’m not pathetic,” YN argues shakily, it felt dangerous to get bratty so soon but it was her submissive profile and character, it came naturally.

Harry quirks a brow, “Sir.”

YN gives him her own confused look.

“I’m not pathetic, sir. Every time you speak, try again.”

“I’m not pathetic,” YN bleats easily, a flutter of her eyelashes.

Harry smiles like a goddamn wolf.

“Oh, you’re not? Let’s test that theory,” Harry draws as he takes a few steps backwards, towards the door, “Come to me.”

YN stands up, on wobbly legs, and begins to but is stopped in her tracks by his hard voice.

“Hands and knees. Crawl for me, I want to show your fiancé how pathetic you are for me,” Harry has a humor, an evil sense of it.

YN drops to her hands and knees, nearly panting already, and begins to move.

summary of triggering scene: YN’s fiance chokes her and though it’s completely consensual he doesn’t know what he’s doing and almost hurts her. YN cannot safeword out at the time but harry stops the scene.

#harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles masterlist #harrystyles #harry styles boyfriend #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles one shot #harry smut #harry styles fanfic #harrystylesfanfic #fan fic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles au #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #patreon

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pleasingforharry · 1 year

Note

can you pls write about quiet yn and harrys first time doing something sexual? like their first time or just him eatimg her out for the first time??

Oh hell yeah ;)

college!harry x quiet!yn

Harry had suggested it while they were making out in his room. They returned from his soccer practice freshly showered and stuffed from eating pizza the boys ordered. It was getting late, but neither of them were tired. They just wanted each other.

First they cuddled on his bed and watched a movie. What movie you ask? They don’t remember. It was forgotten as soon as Harry tugged his girlfriend on his front and connected their lips.

Y/N scooted up to coincidentally land right over Harry’s area. Whether it was on purpose or not, his gravelly groan didn’t go unnoticed.

Harry momentarily broke their lips from each other to stare at his girlfriend. She was breathing heavily to catch her breath.

Even though the girl wasn't a complete professional in the aspects of intimacy, the one thing she learned how to master from Harry was kissing. They did it on a daily basis that it became their second language.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” Harry sighed, bringing his plush lips to her neck and sucking softly. If there was one spot he knew about her body the most, it was her neck—every inch of it.

Y/N placed her hands in his hair, running her nails along his scalp before gently pulling at his roots. She moaned gently, whispering his name like it was liquid. Harry's cock—already semi-hard from the presence of his girlfriend alone—grew indefinitely thicker. Y/N could feel it pressing against her clit, causing instant shivers.

Harry sat up, back against the mountain of pillows, bringing Y/N with him. He never parted from her neck, switching to the other side to give equal attention.

His hands reached under her (his) shirt to travel up her spine. She was so soft and warm. "Shirt off, baby," He mumbled. Her arms raised, and Harry quickly slipped the material off of her, before they both gripped each other like magnets.

Harry's mouth drooled at the sight of Y/N's pebbled nipples. They were small and hard as he wrapped his lips around the left one. Y/N pushed the back of his head closer. "Yes. Yes!" she whimpered, causing a sudden spark to her clit.

Y/N hips started to subconsciously move against Harry's boxers, her clit feeling the perfect amount of pressure. The couple haven't been dating for long, and as Y/N was still embarrassed about her low intimacy skills, this was the farthest they've ever gone; dry-humping.

Harry had lifted his hips up to her, grasping her ass and kneading them together. Y/N's head threw back as she gasped. She looked back down at him, before leaning in. "Again. Please," she whispered in his ear. Harry was tempted to come, right then and there.

He had finally left her nipples so he could watch the curve of Y/N's waist rotate. His hands moved to hold each side of her hips to help her go faster.

"Just like that, baby. Fuck. Good girl," his voice dropped. He wanted to roll his eyes back and drown in the pleasure, but the sight of Y/N was enough to keep them trained on her.

Y/N boldly reached down to shift her panties to the side so her bare cunt could wetly ride his cock. Harry moaned at his gray boxers turning dark. The smell of her was so strong now.

He wanted to taste it.

Harry's head lifted up, and his hand grabbed Y/N's chin tightly. When they were met face to face, they both stared for a while. Y/N's brows dropped in confusion.

"Let me taste you," was all Harry said, bucking up his hips. "Baby, I wanna taste your cunt so fucking bad."

Y/N wasn't just wet anymore, she was drenched.

Her head moved on its own, rapidly nodding. Harry's lips curved up into a lazy smile. He bucked his hips one last time, both of them moaning in harmony, before flipping them over.

Harry sat on his knees as Y/N adjusted herself to lay flat on the bed. Her hands were over her head, posing like a fucking goddess. Harry leaned down to plant a kiss on her lips. "You're so beautiful, Y/N. You don't understand." His words were muffled against her lips. But she still blushed and glanced away. He chuckled, before gently kissing her cheek. "Look at me."

Her head turned to face him again with a shy smile. But her hands were anything but as they grabbed her breasts and flicked her own nipples. Harry watched in awe as she arched in pleasure. "Harry. Oh god," she gasped as her thumb circled her nipples.

"What are you doing to me, baby?" he puffed. He knocked her hands away and finished what she started. He pressed and swiveled and pinched. She jumped at each touch, grabbing at his wrist. His name came out in pornographic moans that Harry became suddenly possessive of the sounds. Y/N under him is nothing like the Y/N outside his bedroom. "You're naughty, you know that?"

Y/N giggled softly, batting her eyelashes at him. Harry leaned down and stopped right before their mouthed met. "Open." She complied. A line of spit drooled from his mouth into hers. Y/N eyes widened, but still accepted it. "And swallow." She did. "Good girl, baby." Her teeth dug into her bottom lip from the nickname. And the wet stop on her panties spread.

Harry tugged her lip free with his own teeth, before knotting their mouths into an intense kiss. Tongues fighting one another—his plunging deep into her mouth. They were gasping for air and only had a second to catch their breath before attacking each other again.

Y/N's moans grew loud in his mouth as his fingers moved faster on her nipples. She could come. She wanted to. Her hips bucked in agreement. But Harry didn't want it to happen that way. So, he stopped and smirked smugly at her scoff.

"Asshole," she muttered, slapping at his chest.

"You sure?" he licked at her jaw. He found her ear and moaned. Her cunt clenched around nothing. "You won't be saying that when I'm tongue deep in your cunt, I bet." He backed away to look at her, but she couldn't meet his stare as she was blushing profusely. "Look at me. Now." She didn't, and he yanked her chin to face him.

"Let go," she huffed, pushing at his hand.

"Listen," he barely touched his lips to hers, "when I'm fucking your cunt with my mouth, you will watch. Understand? You will not look away, Y/N. And if you do, I promise, we will be here all night."

Y/N's eyes widened.

"I'm serious, baby. I want you to watch what only I will ever be able to do to my cunt. Okay?"

She nodded. "Okay." His smirk grew to his ears.

"Good girl." He kissed her gently. Those kisses moved lower—some ended up being sucked into a dark mark. But as long as it could be easily hidden, Y/N didn't mind.

His lips left a trail between her breasts, down her clenching stomach, to her panties. He kneaded everything with his hands. Y/N whimpered at every touch. She could feel his emotions and desperation. It was overwhelming. Her hands landed on top of his as they moved. Her cunt dripped from the veins that lined his thick fingers.

"You ready for me, baby?" Harry slipped his hands under the sides of her panties. He cocked a brow up, waiting for a response. Y/N looked down at him and bit her lip roughly. She nodded and lifted her hips where his mouth hovered. He kissed the right bone of her hip, then the left.

"Please, dove," She whined, grabbing his shoulders and digging her nails into them. "I want you so bad, Harry. Please."

Just from those words, her panties were stripped away and thrown in the corner. He placed her legs over his shoulders so she couldn't close them. She was at his mercy. Her cunt was bare and dripping, and Harry had the perfect view. But he wanted to wait a little.

He pressed his lips to her inner thighs, giving them kitten licks. Y/N groaned and shifted her leg to push his head closer to her cunt. Harry laughed, looking up at her. "Gotta be patience, baby."

"But I want it now," she sighed. "Please." Her voice got caught up as she watched Harry move closer to where she wanted. But then she let out a huff when he kept going and landed on her other thigh. His teeth bit down and sucked. Y/N still gasped from the pleasurable pain.

Harry's nails dug into her legs and spread them wider. Her other pair of lips opened, and Harry was suffocating in the smell. His eyes rolled back just from that.

"Harry—"

"Yes, baby girl?" He was smirking unabashedly. "Are you rushing me? I should stop, huh?" She shook her head. "Keep going? Even though you were rushing me?"

Asshole. Fucking asshole, she wanted to yell at him. But held her tongue.

Y/N's bottom lip poked out to persuade him. "Please, dovie."

"What? You want my tongue that bad. You wanna know what it'll finally feel like to have me deep inside you?" He tilted his head to the side. "You probably dream about this, don't you baby?"

Harry hovered his lips over her clit. He was so close that Y/N felt his breath against her. All she had to do was lift her hips, but she didn't want to risk him stopping all together.

"Yes, I do. Please, I wanna feel you, Harry. Just lick me," Y/N begged, sitting up on her elbows. Her legs were over his shoulders and her feet touched his back. She dug her heels into him.

"I will, baby. I promise. Remember my one rule, though?" She nodded.

"Don't look away. Ever," she said.

Harry smiled warmly. "Good girl."

Before Y/N could react, Harry captured her clit into his mouth. She yelled out a moan, and her hand grabbed his head. "Oh my god!"

So, this was what it felt like.

Harry sucked his cheeks in as he suckled on her clit. His tongue licked and swirled. His head shook, and Y/N's back arched. Both of his arms circled her thighs to keep her exactly where he wanted her.

"Harry! Fuck. Yes, please."

Harry flattened his tongue on her clit, the warmth of it boiling her insides. He licked long stripes—completely covering her.

"You taste better than I fucking imagined, baby. Oh god," Harry moaned. His eyes stayed on hers as he stuck his tongue out and slowly circled her clit. Y/N let out a silent gasp, before squeaking out the only noise her throat would allow out.

Harry moved down to her folds, licking each lip. He brought his thumb up to her clit to replace his tongue. His head nodded with his tongue, before he plunged inside of her. That earned a tug to his hair.

"F—fuck. Oh fuck. Yes!" Y/N rolled her hips into him. Harry watched her writhed and smiled against her cunt. He drank up her words, her sounds, her fucking begging. "More. Please, more."

"Yeah, you feel good, baby?" He asked. She nodded, tightening her grip in his hair. His thumb circled faster, and so did his tongue. He swiveled it as she rode him.

"So good! It's so good, Harry. Oh—" Y/N cut herself off by a long string of moans. It wasn't on purpose, she couldn't help it. Y/N threw her head back as she pushed his head into her.

She didn't even realized she did it until Harry's tongue and thumb retracted from her.

"Y/N." His voice was so dark that she flinched. Her head lifted, and when she met eyes with him, she realized what happened. "What did I say?"

"I'm sorry. I.. please, keep going. I won't do it again," She begged, her hips still lifting. He stared at her for a long second. "I promise. Please. I'm close."

Harry smiled and shrugged. "I can't say no to that." And his thumb and tongue returned to their original spot. Y/N was caught off guard by the overwhelming return of pleasure that she gasped loudly. Her teeth dug into her lips. But the way Harry furrowed his eyebrows demandingly, she released her lip just as fast.

His tongue licked and flattened and swirled and plunged. He couldn't get enough. Y/N could only moan in response as her mind wouldn't make up any words. She was a moaning, gasping mess.

It was a sight etched into Harry's head.

"Harry, I'm close. Fuck! I'm so close, dove," Y/N whined, pushing at his head. "Stop. I can't."

"I got you, baby. It's okay," Harry said against her cunt. He leaned up to grasp her clit with his lips and sucked.

Her back was arching as far as it could go. She wanted to roll her eyes back so bad, but release was more important. So, her eyes stayed trained on Harry's tongue flicking at her clit. He knew exactly what she needed and how she needed it.

"Gonna come, baby?" She whimpered and nodded. "Good. I want it all over my face. Fucking mine. I want it." Harry was mumbling nonsense as his fingers were now playing with her clit. His tongue licking her cunt faster, ready to take all she gave him.

Y/N elbows wiggled as she was loosing feeling everywhere. She suddenly felt a bubbling pressure. "Yes. Yes. I'm coming. Fuck. Harry."

His name was stretched and screamed out loud as she let go. Her hips continued to roll to ride it out.

Harry moaned and licked deep into her. He collected all of her juices gracefully. His hands tightened around her thighs to make sure she stayed put until he was finished.

Y/N knew she was finally able to close her eyes when Harry did it first. He was drunk from her taste, and focused on the lone sense in his tongue. She dropped from her elbows to flat on the bed. Her arms stretched over her.

Harry's tongue continued to slowly lick her folds. She was finished and clean, but Harry wanted more. His moaning was so low, it was barely audible. His tongue slipped between her folds into her cunt, and he dug his face deeper. His nose nudged Y/N's clit, causing her to jump.

She was breathing heavily, whimpering from the overstimulation. She weakly pushed at Harry's head. "Dovie?" She spoke, her voice hoarse and shaking. "Let me see you, baby."

Her thumb brushed his cheek softly, trying to bring him back. He slowly opened his eyes and looked up at her. But his tongue didn't stop kitten licking her cunt.

"So good. You did so fucking good, baby. Fuck," he whispered. His eyes were gentle. She smiled at him.

"Come here. Come to me." She outstretched her arms. Harry licked into her one last time, before pulling away and crawling between her legs to her naked chest. She cupped his cheeks and brought them into a passionate kiss.

"See how good you taste?" He said against her lips. She nodded, completely wrapping her arms around his neck.

Harry was hovering over her by his elbows. His cock was near her cunt as he slowly bucked into her. They didn't pull away from their kiss as they moaned together. He was so hard that it hurt, so Y/N reached down to rub him. Harry sucked in a breath, before gasping into her mouth.

"I got you," Y/N said, pulling him out of his boxers. "Just relax."

Harry stuffed his head into Y/N's neck and sighed. He planted his knees on the bed as she wrapped her hand around him—not completely as he was too thick.

Y/N started at a slow pace, sliding her thumb over his tip before pumping to his base. Harry moaned in her ear. He thrusted himself into her hand, fastening his pace with hers.

Y/N's other hand reached for his balls to quicken his release. "Fuck. Yes, baby. Oh," Harry moaned, his thrust harder. He sunk his teeth into her neck. He was close.

His cock was veiny against her palm. She pumped him faster. Pre-come was slowly leaking out of him. "I want it, dove. Please," She whispered. Harry gasped in her ear—his thrust slowed but now sharp.

He only pushed into her hand a few more times, before stiffening. His come shot out and landed on her cunt and inner thighs. Harry sighed, pulling away and panting. Y/N smiled at him.

"Thank you, baby," He said, before kissing her. His fingers picked up some of his come. "Open." She did. He stuck his finger into her mouth, and she sucked harshly. He slipped it out with a pop, before engulfing her in a kiss.

i'm ashamed of myself. gonna go take a walk.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles imagine #college!harry #college!harry x quiet!yn #harry styles boyfriend #harrystyles #harry styles x yn #harry styles oneshot #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb

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eveningepiphany · 8 months

Text

welcome to the final show | H.S, part 4

my masterlist!

summary: suddenly it’s not just you and harry anymore, and not only do the general media want an explanation, but so do your friends and family. however, the two of you are only just figuring things out yourselves.

warnings: paparazzi, anxiety surrounding leaked images, fluff, comforting, confessions, make out session, sexual content!

a/n: no because i am so thrilled for you all to read this. these two are so much fun to write about. I hope you enjoy <3

(I was on the fence about including smut, but I decided i wanted to! if that’s not something you want to read, a little warning will come up when it’s about to begin. plot wise you won’t miss anything if you choose not to read it!)

———

There’s a certain type of love that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

And it’s an all consuming kind. One that when you think about it you feel it to the bone.

And oh, had you done a lot of thinking. Overthinking was pretty much all you’ve been doing the past two weeks.

You obviously are attracted to Harry. Physically, emotionally… just in every sense of the word. That’s nothing new for you. And even throughout the points of denial since forming a personal relationship with him. It’s the truth.

You’ve probably gaslit yourself out of it more times then you could count. However picture evidence of you holding hands with him in the homely streets of Italy is kind of a slap to the face.

And despite how cute you think the photos may be, you are still inexplicably panicked about them.

It’s the morning after the photos got posted. And you are genuinely still in shock. You struggled to fall asleep last night after the images first came out— your brain in complete overdrive for god knows how long until you fell asleep.

And this morning you’re ignoring the influx of messages and calls you’re getting from family, friends, and people you’ve met through love on tour.

Several texts from your own sister coming through half an hour ago. All of them including the word ‘fuck’. Shes definitely mad you didn’t tell her this had happened.

Either way, you’re left pacing the length of your hotel room. Heart still near racing in your chest as you try to figure out what to do, and how to handle something like this.

You held hands with him, you remind yourself. You didn’t get caught making out with him… the act for you came across as still something bordering platonic— even though you wished it were anything but that. This could eventually blow over.

You sigh out, leaning against the wall of your hotel, this was considerably more simple when the rest of the population had no idea it was happening.

Now they do, and they have a lot of questions. Plus, it makes it significantly harder when it’s about things you don’t even have answers to.

Harry hadn’t messaged you since everything had happened. If he even knows is beyond you.

But it felt wrong talking to anyone about it without talking to him first.

You felt a sense of guilt. Because this easily will stir up drama for him. Stuff like this spreads so fast, and you’ve seen it happen 100 times. But now you’re no longer in the back seat just watching it unfold. There will be articles, posts, even snippets in the newspapers about it. And whether or not it’s something he’s accustomed to, you still feel at fault. Like you could’ve been more careful, more considerate.

You move to sit on the edge of your unmade bed, staring at your phone that you’ve left on the bench top. How do you even approach it? What do you say to him?

You quickly decide you don’t really want to, at the moment. There is too much going through your head, and you’re still a bit freaked out about it all.

So another anxiety shower is. Which for right now, is your best and favourite option.

Standing up, you head to the bathroom, leaving your phone out in the room, allowing it to continue buzzing while you decide it’s time for some hardcore self-care to calm yourself down.

On the other side of things, Harry is also freaking out. He woke up to texts from a couple people, asking about a headline?

And for people he knows personally to be reaching out about trashy posts on the media, it’s almost always a bad sign.

One being from James, who has been off ‘The Late Late Show’ too long for him to withhold himself from making bad jokes when they present themselves.

Are they even allowed to put that many exclamation marks in the title? Overkill if you ask me. 😪😪

But when he reads the link and sees the image of himself with you, his anxiety immediately shifts from being personal.

[ 1 attachment link] : Styles Has Found His Next Musical Muse, But She’s Actually a ‘Hardcore Fangirl!!!’”

He’s almost positive you will have seen the leaked images. There is no way you would have missed this unless you were still sleeping.

Guilt nearly slaps him in the face. You do not deserve this. He already knows that you’re probably being slammed on Twitter and in comments of these pathetic articles.

And that is never nice. He hates it enough when it’s himself, and that’s after a decade of learning how to deal with it.

His concern for you leads to a text, one he doesn’t want to make, but does anyway. Purely for the fact he needs to know you’re alright.

Because the worst thing that could happen is you having some kind of anxiety attack after reading something online, and not having anyone there to be with you to talk you down. Regardless of how confident you can appear to him, he’s not taking the chance.

Hi love, can you please let me know you’re alright?

He sends it through, and then he typed out another one after it’s been about five long minutes without a reply.

I am very possibly overreacting right now, but do you need me to come over?

Another ten minutes go by,

I’ll be over in about 15. x

He is aware this may be over the top. You could be asleep. You could be just processing what’s happened— since he still remembers the first time things like this happened to him. And it’s a really weird experience.

But he is undeniably protective of you. That is one thing he can’t lie about.

And even more-so, he’s terrified this will scare you off. Because if it’s too much for you, he has no clue how he’d deal with it. Since it’s way too far out of his hands now.

Even though he knew well that this was a easily plausible situation. And it’s almost surprising how long they’ve gone without it happening earlier.

In his own time, he’s been overthinking plenty too. Wondering if it’s normal to want to lay your entire life down for someone two weeks after meeting them.

Maybe if he were 16… but pushing 30… it might be a bit harder to justify.

But somehow, despite knowing how stupid he probably seems, he leaves his bedroom after throwing on some shorts and a tshirt. Going out and grabbing the keys for his car from the kitchen.

Gemma is out there cooking toast, and she turns around to see him near running out the door.

“Harry!” She says, and when he stops to give her a quick greeting she interrupts him.

“Don’t worry so much.” She sighs.

Immediately confused, he frowns, frozen in place, “what…?”

“I’m assuming that this Y/N you’ve been on about really likes you too, okay? There’s no way she doesn’t. So just treat it like any other relationship or friendship you have. No matter the circumstances you met under. If you like her, you like her. Don’t let shit from the media get to either of you.”

Her advice comes just when he needs it, as it always does. And even though he acts like she doesn’t, she knows almost everything there is to know.

A small nod, “Thank you Gem…”

She gives him a warm smile, one that’s always encouraged him.

———

You hear the knock on the door while you’re standing in the bathroom, finishing applying a face mask. Stood clad in your shorts and black boob tube.

And after finally calming down a bit, it gives you another wave of panic. Since after waiting a few moments, the rapping on the door continues. You were hoping they would just go away, whoever it was.

You quietly leave your bathroom, going down the short hallway to look through the peephole in the door.

You don’t even get your eye up to it before you hear the all too familiar voice on the other side.

“Y/N, it’s Harry…” He was a bit muffled, but you didn’t even think as you start unlatching the locks on the door.

The look of relief on his face when you finally peek out is almost palpable.

“Hi…” you say quietly, pulling the door open further, letting him come in quickly.

He has two cups in his hands, and once he’s inside your room, he is fast to place them on the nearest free space.

“What are you—“ you don’t get through the sentence before he breaches the distance between you, tugging you into a hug, uncaring of the face mask residue getting on his shirt.

He squeezes you, “‘M so glad y’alright.”

You take a deep breath. So, he knows.

You feel immediately bad for not letting him know earlier, before he felt the need to come over.

“Did you call me? I’m so sorry, i was in the—”

“I texted you couple times— don’t be sorry. I don’t want it to seem weird I came rushing over… i was jus’ worried about you.”

You slowly draw back, “I was going to text you, I just didn’t want to… i didn’t know how to go about it, i guess?”

He pulls away, “I am so fuckin’ sorry this happened.”

“Why are you apologising? I should be…”

“Why should you apologise? You of all people do not deserve to be dissected by people in the media. Ive dragged you into something you didn’t deserve to be dragged into.” He says, sounding exasperated.

“You aren’t at fault for any of this, H. I feel like I’ve stirred up unnecessary drama up for you…” To this he immediately shakes his head.

“You haven’t. I was just worried about how you’d perceive it all… and fuck— i didn’t want it to scare you off.”

You both seem to realise that you were freaking out over each other. Starting to laugh together, realising how stupid you both probably sound.

“Okay… we sound really silly.” You sigh, moving to grab the cup he’d placed down prior to your very quick debrief.

“But seriously, Harry,” you lead him over to sit down on the edge of your bed with you, “I am still sorry. I feel like I’ve caused unnecessary… assumptions.”

He frowns a little, “assumptions?”

“About us. You know…” you shrug, eyes avoiding him, doing a terrible job at acting nonchalant.

“That we’re together? That what you’re so shy about, hm?” He teases, and you physically cannot handle the way he says it.

“I— well— Yes, sure that’s what I was going for.”

You gently scratch at the dried edges of your clay face mask, and he watches quietly, wishing he could see the blush that’s risen on your cheeks underneath it.

“Why were you showering so early— It’s like midday, I thought you said you showered in the evening?” He asks, out of the blue, causing you to frown.

Your answer comes out unsurely, “I have anxiety showers sometimes. It calms me down.”

He cocks his eyebrow, “Is that why you were literally dripping wet when i came over the other day?”

He pins you with his gaze, and you don’t reply for a few seconds. You were hoping he broke the silence himself, but it was clear he was waiting for a response.

You blurt out, “You make me nervous!”

To this he laughs, “I make you nervous?”

“Not… all the time.” You amend, “Just sometimes.”

You remove yourself before he can ask more questions, and you go to wash off the face mask in the bathroom, while he’s still stifling his laughter.

You emerge after washing it off with cold water, and his eyes follow your every step as you go to sit back down.

“Yknow, Y/N, if I didn’t know any better I’d—“

He’s cut off by a bang on the front door.

You were only scared for a second, until you heard a shrill feminine shout from outside it. One you know to be your best friends classic angry voice.

You were relieved for only about another second before you realised, she will probably break that door down if you don’t let her in.

Oh god.

“Y/N Y/L/N. LET. ME. IN!” You can picture her angry little face. And you’re almost a bit terrified of her.

But you have to hide Harry. Like you have to actually hide him.

“Harry— you— fuck, get up—” You whisper, trying to stay as quiet as possible, grabbing his wrist.

“What is happening?” He sounds awfully confused as you manhandle him around the hotel room, trying to find an adequate place to hide a 6 foot tall man from your fired up best friend.

“She may kill you— she loves you— but she’s very mad at me right now, because I didn’t tell her about,” you pause as you try to label again whatever the two of you were, “us… this… whatever you want to deem it.”

You realise the cupboard is about the only reasonable place, unless you make him climb down the balcony.

“Are you—“

“Y/N! i already KNOW you’re in there!” She calls from the door again.

You tug the door of it open, “Get in!”

You half push him inside it, “I’m so sorry, but just, just sh okay??”

He nods hastily, and you quite literally shut him in there.

“I’m coming!” You shove the takeaway cups into a kitchen cupboard and rush to the door.

Letting her in, she practically storms past you. And you pray to god you can get rid of her in a short period of time.

“I’m sorry!” You say to her, grabbing her hands.

“How could you not tell me something like that?!” She barks, shaking your arms like an angry child.

You do feel bad, because you would also be pissed if it were the other way around.

You try to explain, clutching her warm palms tighter, “To respect his privacy! I wanted to, so, so badly but I just… I didn’t want it getting out.”

She groans, pulling you in for a tight, yet still frustrated hug.

“But you know I wouldn’t have told anyone!”

“I do, i know. I’m sorry.” You embrace her, “but every time we were together there were other people… and I just hadn’t figured out how, let alone talked to him about it.”

She calms down a tiny bit, and sometimes the best way to describe her is like a miniature tornado. Her anger is very quick to bubble over and turn her into this fired up, yelling ball of energy. Yet it dissipates shortly after she lets it all out.

“Okay, well I get that, of course. But… wait are you two actually— have you slept with him?” You pull back from the hug and give her a shocked stare. Her ask stuns you for a moment.

You’re hyperaware that he is listening to this conversation.

What is he thinking right now— you can’t help but wonder. And you have to physically force yourself to push the thoughts that come with such a question aside.

“I— why would you ask me that!” You hiss at her, sounding guilty, even though you’re just throughly embarrassed.

“Because he's Harry Styles!” She exclaims, “who happens to be a very gorgeous man, and I would not be surprised if you wanted— I don't know— in his pants?”

“We are just friends!” You drag your hand down your face. Internally pleading that she stops saying embarrassing shit.

“Whatever you little liar. Acting like as if you haven't said on multiple occasions just how bad you wan—“

“OKAY!” You interrupt, trying to keep the frantic tone out of your voice, “I get it. I really do, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. But look, I have so many people I have to call and— i think my whole family also want me dead— so can we maybe get a coffee tomorrow? Talk it over, and you can ask all the questions you want.”

At your proposal, she seems to realise you mean it. And despite the confused look on her face at the fact you’re kicking her out to call what is basically her own adopted family, it seems she understands.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t wanna seem pushy. I was… just also in shock. Tomorrow at 10?” She smiles.

You start both walking over to the door, “that’s perfect.”

Tugging her into another hug, she huffs out an ‘I love you.’

You laugh and give her a chaste peck on the side of her head, “I love you too. I promise I wanted to tell you on my end. I just didn’t want to fuck anything up…”

She nods, pulling back, “I know. And if you need anything, or anyone before I see you tomorrow, don’t forget I’m only a few floors up.”

“I won’t.” You open the door for her, and bid a final goodbye. And once it’s shut, you realise how badly you want the ground beneath your feet to literally swallow you whole.

Despite the embarrassment, you quickly rush over to let Harry out of the cupboard you’d shoved him in.

And as he steps out, adorning a smirk and clearly stifling a laugh, you apologise profusely.

“God— I am so incredibly sorry.”

A proper abashed grin spreads across his face, one that flashes his dimples. Reminding you of the sign you took to the last show, telling him how pretty you thought his smile was. You still think the same.

“Kind of exciting hiding in a cupboard. I never even did it as a teenager.” He chuckles, brushing a few stray curls from his eyes.

“Do I look a little more youthful? As gorgeous as ever?” He teases.

“I am so sorry you had to hear all of that, she has a… she lacks a filter.” You excuse, cheeks flaming as you try to dig yourself out of the hole your best friend has unwittingly buried you in.

“That's okay love, but I am a little curious…”

You frown at his careful words.

He takes a step closer as he continues, “what so badly did you want to do to me that you told all your friends about?”

At this, you completely turn your face away from his green-eyed stare. Because you cannot trust yourself.

He doesn’t realise the dangerous game he’s playing with you right now. Especially while he’s standing in-front of you like this. Tattooed arms out, beautiful face and jawline on display.

“Y/N, darling. I asked a question.” His voice has turned to honey. He’s talking you in a way he never has before. With a tone that is almost demanding an answer, laced with a undertone of seduction.

“Stop it.” You hiss, flicking his solid chest with your hand.

He steps forward, and you step back in response. He backs you up all the way to the edge of your bed.

“Stop being a flirt.” You scoff, finally holding eye contact for more than a second.

His pupils have blown out a little, and the stare he’s giving you is something you want burned into the underside of your eyelids.

“Why? Is it working.” He chuckles, demeanour softening a tiny bit as his hand slides down your arm.

You don’t reply.

“Please tell me, Y/N. I want to know. Y’know I’m nosey.”

“Resorted to begging, I see.” You snort, heart still hammering behind your rib cage.

“If it works, I can do plenty of it.” He playfully remarks.

You try to not reply again, but you’re met with a silence. Somehow he knows you’re going to fill it with a fumbled half-confession.

“I don’t even really remember. I was probably tipsy on some wine. Said some stuff to… the girls. After a show.”

“After a show?” He smirks, “Which one?”

“Barcelona. And maybe back at… another. One or two others.”

“But that’s all I’m saying!” You interject, hoping he takes that as enough of an answer.

He laughs at your attempted defiance.

“Anyways, what even— what are you getting at here?” You ask, because truly, his flirting is heavily confusing you. In every way possible.

“Remember when you told me I had a the prettiest smile?” He lightly grazes your hip with his warm hand.

“I— yes. That was like, 2 weeks ago. What’s your point?” You are biting at your bottom lip.

“Don’t get feisty.” He coos, “Everytime I smile around you, I think of that. And then, I wonder what other things you think about me. What other parts you see of me and consider as pretty.”

“And, can you blame a man for wanting to know what dirty things you’ve said about him to y’friends?”

Jesus Christ. A part of you melts at his words. He is watching you like a hawk, gauging your every little reaction. But you’re clinging to any part of you that’s trying to keep this from heading in that direction. Even though you know it’s not because you don’t want to.

“We really shouldn’t… H.” You state, voice almost shaking with an unspoken need. One that you’re trying to keep from bursting through the seams.

“Why not, Y/N?” He asks, making it sound like a challenge. Causing him to be met with a quick jump in your voice.

You are pulling at every part of your strength right now to justify why this is a terrible idea.

“Because, Harry. I am a fucking fangirl for you. Not in a casual way either, like bordering a little bit insane! It’s horrifying, and very embarrassing! And this is a horrible idea, because I don’t think you understand the kind of—“ You don’t get to finish whatever you were about to say, because he kisses you. With his all.

It feels like he pours every once of his being into it. The way his smooth lips press into your own, fuelled by a heat that is felt in the very pit of your stomach. Your knees almost buckle at the sensation.

You grab his shoulder to stabilise yourself. And your lungs are already drawn of all their air.

In actuality, it mustn’t have lasted very long— maybe a couple seconds— before he pushes the back of your knees against the bed, forcing you to sit down.

He draws in a breath after you seperate, “I don’t care if you have photos of me on your fucking bedroom walls, baby.”

“Could not care less, look at you.” He leans down now, kissing over your lips again in separate, doting pecks, “y’so gorgeous, and genuine. I love that you love what I do.”

You’re in a bit of shock, looking up at him with widened eyes. Because obviously you’ve imagined kissing him before. Probably a thousand times. And that dream has somehow sprung to fruition.

How exactly? you’re still unsure.

“I— Harry.” You say, with no real purpose, clutching onto his broad shoulders.

The way you whine out his name drives him almost insane, and he drops down onto his knees between your spread legs. Giving him easier access to kiss your mouth.

His hands snake around your waist, and he lets his lips slot back over yours.

You loose yourself in the act, your own fingers skating up his back and into the hair at the nape of his neck.

It’s so fucking soft. And you use it to press his face closer to yours. He’s surprised when you’re the one to part your lips and dart your tongue out first.

Skating along his pink bottom lip as an invitation.

He accepts it happily, clutching at your waist while he lets his tongue dip into the heat of your mouth. You can’t help but groan at the sensation, and feel the warmth start to gather between your thighs.

He was kissing you like a starved man. And slowly everything you knew started slipping from the forefront of you mind. All you could feel and focus on was him.

How his muscly frame filled up your senses—and the area between your knees— paired with the glide of his tongue over your teeth.

—((sexual content from here and onwards))

His hands tracing over several parts of your body, even going to pull you closer with his hands cupping your bottom. Squeezing at the swell of your ass playfully.

You bite your teeth down onto his lip and drag it backwards, eliciting a moan from the back of his throat.

Your hips push forward, brushing the front of your shorts on his torso, causing his jaw to go lax.

The two of you seperate for air, panting, and his eyes veer south, looking at where you’re pressed against him.

“Fuckin’ Christ. Look at you, needy little thing.”

You bury your head into his neck, kissing along his sharp jawline. Unable to control your slowly circling hips.

“So, y’willing to share what it is you wanted to do to me yet? Given that you’re practically grinding on m’chest.”

You hum a maybe, and he lets out a deep laugh.

“After Barcelona,” You start, and he works to coax the answer out of you with his hands and lips.

“Mmhm…” he acknowledges, mouthing against your clavicle.

“You had looked so good that night… and I got a little tipsy after the show, back at our BNB.”

“You were in those low rise black pants, and that tiny cropped vest. And my god— i said to all the girls that if you were down, I would happily let you take me. Anyway you wanted.”

“Anyway?” His hoarse voice asks.

“Anyway. Fingers, tongue... cock.”

At the first mention of something genuinely sexual, he almost looses it. Envisioning your spread legs with his head pressed between them.

“But I didn’t just say that because I was tipsy. Or because of the outfit you wore.” You allude quietly.

He can’t wait another second before he’s pressing his already swollen lips back against yours. And hard.

“Want everything off you.” He fists at your boob-tube.

Your body is hotter than a thousand suns, and your need for him is literally tearing through you.

It’s clear this was your tipping point. There was no going back to something casual and platonic. The way your whole body ached to have him was unfathomable.

“Strip me.” You beg, arms lifting so he can tug the thin black material over your head, leaving your breasts in a strapless bra.

He runs his tongue over the exposed skin, hands sliding to the clasp at your back to get it off you.

He moans aloud once he sees you, briefly recalling the times his gaze has dipped to your cleavage in those little sundresses you wore while you were out together, and how he would always be wishing for a moment like this.

He laves his tongue over your nipple, before quickly occupying himself with the button of your shorts.

“These off too?” He confirms, voice gravelly with want.

Hastily, you nod, “Yes, all of it.”

Your sheer eagerness is turning him on even more. You always seemed a tiny bit reserved, so hearing you beg for your clothes to get torn off…

“Ass up,” he asks, watching as you lift it from the bed so he can tug the shorts from your waist and down your legs.

Left in nothing but your underwear, he slides his hand over your front to see how wet you were.

You moan as his fingers brush over your clothed-clit. And you notice now that your arousal has wet through your panties.

“Fucking hell. You realise you’re absolutely drenched, right baby?” He near moans, rubbing a gentle circle over the fabric.

“I—shit— I’m sorry, didn’t think I’d gotten so…” You’re almost a little embarrassed at the amount of arousal between your legs.

He hooks his fingers into the crotch of your underwear, peeling them down your thighs.

Your bare cunt had him almost light headed. You were genuinely glistening, and your slick had already spread to the hood of your clit.

“Darling don’t be sorry. Y’got the prettiest little pussy. Cant believe you’re this wet.”

“What did it for you, huh?” He asks finger running through you, eliciting a groan from both your throats.

In a pleasure-filled haze, you slur out a reply, “You. Just all of you.”

You squirm under his featherlight caress, and take a moment to watch him gaze at you. There is nothing but this look of admiration and desire in his eyes.

“Wanna see you, Harry.” You plea, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

He waits not a second to slip it over his head, and your hands immediately run down his torso. Staying quiet as he lets you indulge.

This is something you have thought of in a million different ways. His chest is built like that of a Greek gods, and his tattoos are an added bonus.

You feel the ridges of his abs under your fingertips, and you trace over the butterfly tattoo as well.

His breath flutters in and out of his nose. But using your hands doesn’t satiate you.

You need him on your tongue.

“Stand up.” You ask, and he doesn’t question you, he just obliges.

You keep him stood between your bare legs, but lean your neck inwards, tongue jutting out to run a solid strip up his stomach.

A rumble comes from him, akin to a growl as you move to of his pecs. Gliding your tongue over the hair-dusted flesh, and enveloping his own nipple into your mouth.

You’d never done this before, since sucking on a guys nipple is less of a commodity… but the reaction it works out of him is perfect.

The way he throws his head back, sharp jaw tilted to the celling, and hair falling from his forehead.

“Oh… oh god.”

You draw back, grabbing his shorts and pushing them down. Kissing both the laurels that sit atop his hips before cupping your hand over his bulge, covered by black Calvin Klein briefs.

“Can I take you out, please?”

“Such nice manners, good girl.”

Good girl. The words float around in your head, and something else inside of you comes undone.

Not sure if it was your self respect… or some other part of your morals. But you could go feral simply over those two words.

You bite down on your lip as you tug the briefs down, watching his cock slip up.

Lord.

You almost salivate. It’s perfect in every way you’d want it to be. A flushed red tip, dotted with beads of pre-cum. And of course it’s big.

For an already perfect man, it’s hard to believe you can strip him completely, and still not find a single flaw.

“Staring pretty hard… you a little intimated?”

“It’s big.” You state, hand coming to wrap around its thick base. “Want it in me.”

He leans down, picking you up by your thighs. You laugh in reaction, him manhandling you into the centre of your still unmade bed.

There was a sense of intimacy that was being shared as he pulled you forward, so you were straddling his hips.

Both of you leaned forward to lock lips, kissing feverishly as you touched over every inch of skin you could. Eventually, both of your hands falling between the others legs.

You stroked over him, and he careful slid his middle finger into you.

He worked you until you were near dripping down his hand, and were scraping your nails along his shoulders.

“Harry— need you…” you beg.

“Want me to take you right now?” He asks, cock throbbing in your hand.

“Yes. I can handle it. Promise. I’m clean and on birth control if you wanna go bare.”

“Only if you’re sure. I trust you.”

“I am… just want to feel you.” You plead.

“Need you to tell me how y’want it first, pretty.” He coos, curling his finger inside you.

You moan in response, and he slides it out shortly after so he regains your attention.

“I—“ you stutter, now feeling empty, “anyway you want, I said that earlier.”

“No, baby, how do you like it?” He asks again, smiling against your skin.

“Anything, hard or gentle, I’ll come either way. Look at you— as if I wouldn’t.”

He pulls your core to his, rubbing the tip against your slick hole, “Then tell me as we go how you’re doing, and what you want or need okay. Want you to feel really good, m’kay?”

You nod, and he starts to sink into you, already pulling a moan from your lips at the stretch.

He on the other hand struggles to hold himself together as your warm walls part for him.

“Fuck, fuck… you’re so tight, Y/N.” He groans, pulling you down nearly all the way— stopping before he reaches the base of his cock, taking a moment to adjust so he doesn’t come before he’s all the way in.

“Mm-“ you whine out, nails digging into the warm muscle on his back, “Harry…”

Once he’s composed himself, he lets your hips sink the down to the base of him. You both take a moment to feel it. Panting, because the heat and the connection you’re both sharing is only describable as euphoric.

“Y’okay?” He sighs out, clutching your waist with firm hands.

“Yes… so fuckin’ full.” You moan out, hole fluttering around his length.

He carefully draws his hips back, pulling out a little only to push it back in.

Just that small movement has you reeling. And you’re quick to realise that this is probably going to be the best sex you’ve ever fucking had.

“Look at that, your cunt swallowing me up. So fuckin’ hot.” He whispers, slowly starting to pick up the pace.

His fingers move to play with your clit, and he notices the reaction that courses through your body the second he rolls it between his fingers.

You buck your hips against him, and he brings his lips down to suck on the side of your breast.

“Mark me.” You encourage, wanting him to leave you with bruises from his mouth.

“Dirty thing,” he moans, fucking up into you, “so fucking wet too. All f’me isn’t it?”

The dirty talk causes you to clench around him, and he picks up on it.

“Jesus, you really are? Like when I say dirty stuff too, clearly.” He grunts.

“Yes, fuck! Please touch me.” You ask, needing to feel more of him, to the point it consumes your senses.

He touches you almost everywhere, with his hands, lips, tongue. All over your body until you genuinely can’t think of anything else.

It leaves your body shaking, and he can tell you’re not going to last much longer going by the clenching of your cunt.

“I’m gonna come if you keep squeezing around me like tha’.” He curses, keeping a fast pace with his hips as you feel the beginning of your high approaching.

It starts to bubble up in the pit of your stomach, “God— you’re so deep.”

“Yea, love? Feel me all the way up here?” He splayed his hand on your lower abdomen and you nod.

“Gonna come soon… please.” Your thighs are going weak from trying to hold your body up, and he notices, flipping you around so he’s on top of you.

The new angle has you biting down on your palm to try and stop yourself from crying out.

“Taking it so well. M’not far off either, baby.” He groans, his thrusts faltering as he bottoms out.

He pushes two fingers past your lips, allowing your tongue to swirl over them before he is removing them. Taking them down to rub over your swollen clit.

The added stimulation is what’s going to tip you over the edge.

“H—fuck—Harry! I’m gonna come!” You moan out, nails scraping down his bicep.

“Good fucking girl,” he prompts, fingers flicking over your clit, “let it all go for me, gush all over my cock.”

His words send you spiralling. And they’re the final push you need before your cunt clamps down around him with a loud moan tearing out of you.

“Fuckfuckfuck!” You’re writhing around him, and he curses at how tight you’re clenching him.

“That’s it, keep fucking going— ride it out on me.” He hisses, hips finally faltering as he feels his cock come inside of you.

Twitching between your warm walls as his stomach muscles contract and ripple with the intensity of his release.

He near buckles on top of you, his body weight pressing against you. And The two of you are panting, still shivering out slight aftershocks of your orgasms.

His forehead rests against yours, and you lean forward to brush a kiss against his parted lips.

Gently, he pulls himself out. A tiny hiss coming from his lips at the sensitivity.

He rolls over, bringing you to lay down on top of him. And you feel the partial heaving of his damp chest below you.

“Thank you…” You mumble out, sounding almost shy.

He picks up on it, “Don’t sound so nervous, darling. Y’were amazing.”

This brings a smile across your lips. It’s safe to assume that maybe things around you are complicated. But actually between the two of you, it’s anything but.

You like him, so much. So you just say it.

“I like you, Harry.”

And he affirms your statement with a kiss to your temple, and says quietly, “I like you too, Y/N. A lot.”

And this feels like an unspoken agreement that maybe the media is only going to get more riled up about the two of you as time goes on, but what you have is something genuinely worth fighting for.

Plus… they already know so, what’s the worse that could really happen now?

———

that was a long one!! hope you all loved it, and thank you so much for the support on this series. and don’t worry, you will definitely still be seeing more of them in the future. 🤍

taglist:

@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @Iquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss @hsstylesrings @saturnheartz @victoriasigaard @lilfreakjez @mrsvxder @skxawngs @theekyliepage @hannah9921 @shiffpring @multifandomsw @roslastyles420 @slutforcoffein @kittenhere @stylesfever @butterfly-lover @daniizstyles @padf00ts-l0ver @sunflowervol18 @laurxn-robinson @kkr102 @superlegend216 @jerseygirlinca @cherrysulewski

+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love

693 notes · View notes

walkingintheheartbreaksatellite · 8 months

Text

Summer Love

(Long Hair Harry Styles x Reader)

Warnings- smut: Slight hair pulling, nipple play, p in v, oral (female receiving), breeding kink, spanking, daddy kink

A/N- I know what you’re thinking. Smut?! Em! I never knew you had it in you! Yeah well surprise!

Summary: Harry surprises Y/N with a picnic yacht date while he’s on break from tour. But he has other plans. Smut, if you don’t like it, please see my masterlist for my non-smut work!

>>>—————————————->

“Hurry up, Y/N! Let’s go!”

I giggle and shake my head at his eagerness. He grabs my hand and starts pulling me towards the dock.

“Harry, why are we even doing this? What’s this big surprise?”

He turns and gives me a sheepish smile before he lifts me into his arms and carries me the rest of the way, walking onto a yacht he rented. With a kiss to my cheek, he sets me down on my feet again.

“Get yourself comfy, Y/N. Just got to get a going and then we’ll get to your surprise. And before you ask- no, I don’t need help. I got it love. Just sit there looking beautiful as always.”

I blush and giggle as I sit down on the cushioned seat, eating for him. As soon as we get far enough away from the shore, Harry begins to pull things out and sets them up on the floor. When he’s finally done, he runs over to me and takes my hand excitedly. He pulls me over to the front of the yacht where he has a little picnic set up.

I tear up slightly and throw my arms around him, to which he hugs me.

“Harry! You didn’t have to do this!”

He lifts me up and spins me around just a little before he sets me down.

“I know, but I wanted to. You’re so supportive when I’m on tour and I wanted to show you how much I appreciate you.”

He guides me to sit down on one of the cushions, and I remove my sandals as he takes a seat across from me.

“I do it because I love you. You know that.”

He opens up the champagne bottle before he looks at me.

“Yes, but to matter what time zone I’m on, you stay up to talk to me after the show… You never miss our goodnight call.”

He pours champagne into 2 flutes before he pecks my lips and hands me one. I smile and take a sip of my champagne.

“I’ve got all your favorites, minus sushi. Wouldn’t do so well being out like that. And-.”

He pulls out a small bouquet of Daisies and hands it to me.

“Picked them myself. Hope they look okay.”

I smile and nod before I lean over and peck his lips.

“They’re beautiful! You did a great job.”

He smiles and fixes me a plate with all my favorites. After a couple hours, he cleans up and we lay cuddled up on the blanket. I’m about to fall asleep when Harry pulls me on top of him, and I look at him in surprise.

“Harry-.”

He smiles and pecks my lips.

“I’ve missed you, Y/N… So much. I know you’ve got work and you can’t tour with me but… I’ve just… I’ve missed you. All of you. And I never have the alone time to do what I really want…”

He adjusts me in his arms and something becomes very apparent to me. He’s hard.

“Harry-.”

“Tell me to stop, Y/N. Because if we start I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

I lean down and kiss him, Harry immediately melting into my lips. His grip on me remains sure as he flips us over. He pulls my sundress up and throws it behind him, leaving me in the matching set he has bought me a couple months before.

“Fuck look at you. Wear this for me, did you love?”

I giggle and shrug.

“Maybe. But you know, I think you’re wearing too much and we need to fix that.”

I unbutton his dress shirt and he slips it off before slipping off his shorts, leaving him in his signature Calvin Klein boxers. He unclips my bra and as soon as it’s out of sight, he begins to kiss and nibble down my body.

He pays extra attention to my breasts, his teeth biting at my nipples before he sucks slightly, moaning on my sensitive tits as I squirm underneath him.

“H-Harry… Please… Wanna taste you…”

He lifts his head up and smiles, shaking his head.

“You know how I love giving you everything you want, but that’s the one thing I just can’t give you right now. Now, sit up. Take off your panties. Then come sit. You know where.”

He lays back and I sit up, doing as he instructed. I slip off my panties and sit on his chest, one leg on each side of him as I wait for further instruction. He slaps my ass rather harshly and I can’t help but moan at the contact.

“That’s not what I said, baby. Sit. Now. Don’t make me tell you again.”

I nod and scoot up a bit, hovering my sopping wet core over his mouth. Another slap hits my ass and I squeal, collapsing out of reaction. He wraps his arms around my thighs, securing me in place as he begins his attack on my clit.

“F-fuck Harry!”

Another slap hits my ass and I squeak. He growls and scolds me from between my legs.

“That’s not my name right now, love. Say it right or you won’t say anything at all.”

I bite my lip and nod as he continues to lick and suck on my clit, biting lightly every little while.

“D-Daddy! I can’t! I-I think I’m gonna come!”

He slaps my ass again and pulls me down more, sucking and licking as I moan and pant.

“Come for me, Y/N. Do it baby. You can come.”

I lean down and grab his hair, lightly pulling as I start to come undone.

“Fuck Daddy! Y-You’re tongue! Mmm!”

I pant as I come down from my orgasm, Harry rubbing my thighs to soothe me.

“Up, baby. I’m not gonna wait anymore.”

My legs shaking, I scoot myself back down before I roll myself off of him to catch my breath. Before I catch my breath, Harry is already rolling on top of me, pinning my hands about my head.

“You know… We wouldn’t be so frustrated if you were on tour with me. Maybe I should just- put a baby in you. That way I can keep you with me. How’d you like that baby?”

My eyes widen and my mouth gapes.

“Y-You’re kidding. You want a baby?”

He nods and leans down, pecking my lips.

“I want a little you. And a little me. I want it with you, Y/N. Can I..?”

I bite my lip and I nod with a blush.

“Do it. Let’s have a baby.”

He smiles and kisses me fiercely. He moved his hand down to my clit and I grab his hand to stop him.

“Don’t. I don’t need it. I want it hard, Harry. I want you.”

He smirks and spanks my ass again. He lines his cock up with my clit, rubbing his tip against a few times before he pushes all the way in, hitting my g spot almost immediately.

“D-Daddy!”

He smirks and jerks his hips, causing me to cry out.

“That’s right baby. Gonna make me a daddy, aren’t you? Gonna look so perfect, big and round with my baby. You want that sweet girl?”

He starts thrusting at a steady pace, groaning as he thrusts.

“Fuck! Daddy! H-Harder!”

“Yeah baby? Think you can handle it? I can feel how close you are. Hold it for me, sweet girl. No coming until I do.”

He starts to thrust harder, hitting my g spot with every thrust.

“Gonna be such a good mumma, aren’t you baby? Gonna look so beautiful feeding our baby… God I get so hard even thinking about seein you nice and pregnant. Never gonna stop fuckin’ my sweet girl.”

He continues to thrust, going harder with each thrust when eventually, he starts to groan loudly and pant.

“Fuck Y/N! Baby! I’m gonna come! Come with me, baby! Come with daddy!”

I cry as I ride out my orgasm, clinging on to Harry as best I can as I feel him spill into me, burying himself deep inside.

“F-fuck… Harry…”

He pulls out and he keeps me in his arms, kissing my forehead a couple times and he cuddles me.

“I love you Y/N. So, so much. It’s just you and me.”

I smile and peck his cheek softly.

“Don’t you mean us three?”

He smiles devilishly and holds tightly onto me, knowing that it really was us. Just Harry, our baby and our future.

>>>———————————->

Please like and reblog! Let me know what you thought!

Tag list

@be-with-me-so-happily @swiftmendeshoran @babyiamperfectforyou @freedomfireflies @kaminokatie @harrysmimi @violetsandfluff @fruitmans @fruitmansrecs @harringtons-honey @rafaaoli @kimmi-kat @erggggggggg @cayleyhannha-blog @acesofspadess @that-mcu-fan @styles-barnes-bitch @purple9950 @justmystyles @itslottiehere

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sushirrrry · 8 days

Note

sneaky link/ f boy harry, smut, anal, multipule rounds, mean harry. PLSSS

— NEW ONE SHOT COMING SOON —

SUBTERFUGE

harry and kate have been hooking-up all summer— they've kept it under wraps from their friends. harry is a bit of a bad-boy; a bit decisive, and a bit of an asshole to those who question him. kate is sweet; a med student who's found that her and harry's friend group has seemed to connect over the last few years.

a party to mark the end of summer forces the two together again, but this time, the fortnight of clandestines meetings are in jeopardy when they decide to keep it away from their friends. it was only for a little bit; only because they only had each other.

but what will happen when the two can't help but catch stolen glances?

#COMING SOON #harry styles #hs #ask #harry fanfic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry wattpad #harry styles smut #harry styles x original character #anon ask #send an anon #harry fic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harrystylesfanfiction #harrystyles #harryedwardstyles

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calicozmbie · 9 months

Text

thanks for the love on my recent post! My requests are open, if anyone has anything they’d like to see let me know!

SOCIAL MEDIA AU

pairing: Harry styles x fem!author!reader

summary: Harry and y/n l/n are spotted walking together around London and people are speculating that they’re dating!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟

—

Liked by harrystyles and 276,822 others

yourinstagram coffee dates ☕️🫶

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harryfan2 is this the woman Harry was seen walking around London with???

ynfan1 WHO took this picture miss y/n?!

yourinstagram @/ynfan1 🙈🙈

Harrystyles ☕️☕️

harryfan4 @/harrystyles HARRY?? What’re you doing here!!

Miacollins I wonder who took the picture 🤔🤔

yourinstagram @/miacollins yes, mia, I wonder

harryfan2 Harry liked!!??

—

Liked by ynfan3 and 2,475 others

hsdaily Harry and y/n seemingly on a date today in London!

View all comments

Harryfan2 are they dating?

ynfan1 they’d be so cute together!

harryfan4 A DATE??

Liked by harrystyles and gemmastyles and 136,827 others

yourinstagram 🍓🍓

View all 27,829 comments

Harrystyles tastes like strawberries

yourinstagram @/harrystyles Harry!!

harryfan8 @/harrystyles EXCUSE ME?

Gemmastyles you better save me some of them.

ynfan7 they look so good

harryfan2 did y’all see Harry’s story?!

ynfan1 HARRY AND GEMMA LIKED? They’re definitely together

Liked by 5,982 others

Harryflorals harry via Instagram stories!

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ynfan3 oh my god, did you see y/ns post?

harryfan1 THEY WENT STRAWBERRY PICKING TOGETHER AWW

harryfan8 I love them together

Liked by yourinstagram and 3,202,577 others

Harrystyles Love on tour. London IV. June, 2023.

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yourinstagram looking good Mr Styles

Harrystyles @/yourinstagram thank you, Miss l/n

ynfan8 their comments are everything

harryfan1 they’re definitely together, they have to be!!

harryfan3 y/n is so lucky

yourinstagram so proud

ynfan7 @/yourinstagram THATS SO CUTE

Liked by harrystyles and 342,928 others

yourinstagram A rise of dawn, book three of the midnights best series, is coming to you all very very soon.

View all 34,183 comments

Harrystyles so proud of you my love

yourinstagram @/harrystyles I love you🤍

Ynfan2 OH MY GOD WHAT?

Harryfan6 ‘I LOVE YOU’ WHAT

Harryfan4 I knew it!!

Ynfan1 they’re dating!!

Gemmastyles y/n I can’t wait for this book, you left me on a cliffhanger

#fanfic #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harrystyles x reader #oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagines #stylesswrites #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic rec

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ijustmissyouraccenths · 29 days

Text

Chocolate Hearts

CW: Smut

Word count: 4,541

Growing up in a small town was never easy. The days appeared to drag on with gloomy skies and bleak summers filling the calendar. Rain and storms consumed the days, leaving Stella feeling trapped inside her own home, binge-watching Netflix to pass the time. Despite these dreary conditions and the small town gossip that cause her to suffocate, Stella found solace in two things: reading novels at the quaint local bookstore and pursuing her passion for photography.

Behind the lens, Stella was a master. She had an eye for capturing beauty in the simplest of subjects. Her clients ranged from families to businesses, and sometimes beloved pets. While most of her projects were fairly small, she had managed to gain a decent following on social media thanks to the artistic and creative nature of her photos.

Then, through pure luck, an opportunity presented itself about an hour away - the chance to photograph Harry Styles at an arena for her portfolio. It would be a stark contrast to her usual work - the bright lights and frantic movements on stage would provide a new challenge for her skills behind the lens. When her sister's boyfriend, who worked security at the venue, offered her this rare opportunity, Stella couldn't turn it down. It was a chance to showcase her talent on a larger scale and potentially open doors for her career as a photographer.

She meticulously packed her gear, carefully selecting the best lenses and camera body for the upcoming task. Her vintage-style paperboy camera bag was neatly filled with all the necessary equipment, ensuring that she would be fully prepared for whatever lay ahead. Taking a moment to center herself, she sat down and focused on her breathing, a technique her therapist had taught her for moments when she needed to relax and gather her thoughts.

With a deep breath, she swiped the keys off of the counter and bid farewell to her cat before heading out to her car. While she wouldn't necessarily classify herself as a fan of Harry Styles, she found him charming and had enjoyed his performances in the few movies he had been in. There was something about his energy that drew her in. She couldn't deny that she had a One Direction phase in high school, so there was a small part of Stella that felt giddy at the thought of seeing him in person. She always thought her was attracitve and even had a little crush on him.

The drive to the arena was smooth, but finding parking proved to be a nightmare. Eventually, she made it inside and checked in, grabbing her pass before being escorted to where she would be shooting. In her mind, she imagined that she would have a decent view of the stage, but when the security guard handed her off to Harry's manager who then led her down winding hallways backstage, it became clear that she would not just be photographing the show - she would have access to something much more intimate and behind-the-scenes.

The manager wheeled around to face Stella, his slicked-back hair catching the light as he spoke. "I hope you're okay with this," he said, over the hustle and bustle of the backstage preparations for Harry Styles' show. "Originally we needed someone for the show, but our usual photographer is out sick and we need some content for Instagram."

Stella nodded, trying to suppress her nerves. She had been ecstatic when she was offered the opportunity to shoot photos of one of the worlds biggest musicians, but now that it was actually happening, she was feeling a bit overwhelmed. Her palms were getting clammy as she mentally went through her checklist, making sure she had everything ready to go.

"I'm good," she replied, flashing a quick smile at Harry's manager. "I'm all set up and ready whenever you guys are."

But what Stella wasn't prepared for was walking into Harry's dressing room and seeing him shirtless, with his stylist carefully crafting his iconic hairstyle. She couldn't help but feel a flutter in her chest as she took in his toned tattooed torso and muscular arms. This wasn't how she imagined meeting her high school celebrity crush.

Harry turned around from the chair and greeted her with a warm smile. "You must be Stella," he said as he walked towards her with open arms.

Stella couldn't believe she was actually hugging Harry Styles. She took in his scent, the strong muscles of his back pressing against her as they embraced, and she couldn't help but feel herself falling deeply in love with him. It was like a bug had bitten her and infected her with an infatuation for the charming and talented musician.

"I am," Stella finally managed to say, trying not to let on how starstruck she was. "Thank you so much for allowing me to come today. I've never really done anything like this before, it feels like such a big opportunity."

Harry chuckled and then ran a hand through his hair, causing it to fall in soft waves around his face. "No worries, love," he replied with a playful wink. "We're happy to have you here. And I was thinking we could mix things up a bit for the photoshoot. Let's do some portraits but also some candid shots of me getting ready, organizing my clothes, that sort of thing."

Stella's eyes sparkled with excitement at the idea. She couldn't believe she was going to be taking intimate behind-the-scenes shots of Harry Styles. This was definitely going to be the highlight of her photography career so far.

As Stella clicked away with her camera, capturing every moment of Harry getting ready, she couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of confidence around him. It was as if his vibrant energy was contagious and had spread throughout her body, lifting her spirits in its wake. She found herself contorting into unusual positions to get the perfect shot, lost in the thrill of documenting this experience.

"So Stella, we have a whole week off and I want to explore. I never get out to this area of the US. What's there to do around here?" Harry's deep, smooth voice sent shivers down her spine.

Stella paused for a moment, caught off guard by this unexpected conversation. "I um," she stuttered, "I actually live in a small town about an hour north of here. I'm not too familiar with the area."

Harry nodded, his curiosity piqued. "Is it cool?" he asked, his tone laced with genuine interest.

Stella shrugged, "It's alright. There are some nice bakeries and vegan restaurants. I have my studio there. It's a bit hipster but quiet and charming. Oh, and there's a really cool vinyl store. And hey, if you need a place to crash, I have a guest room." She added the last part jokingly, assuming that a famous superstar like Harry Styles would be staying in a luxurious penthouse suite.

"Let's do it," Harry declared with enthusiasm, catching Stella off guard once again.

"Really?" she gasped in disbelief.

Harry simply nodded and explained, "I've been wanting to escape to a smaller town where I can blend in and do normal things without being recognized. Sounds perfect."

Stella couldn't believe her luck as the show went on and eventually came to an end. The plan was for her to go home and wait for Harry while he finished up his final performance and got cleaned up before heading over to her place. She inwardly thanked herself for deep cleaning her house the day before, she was prepared to have everything to be perfect for Harry's stay.

"I-I didn't think you'd actually want to come," Stella admitted as they said their goodbyes.

Harry chuckled and replied, "Isn't it a bit crazy?"

And with that, their unconventional journey began.

Stella sat at home, anxiously awaiting Harry's arrival. She had cleaned her small apartment, lit a few candles, and put on a record to set the mood. With a quick glance at the clock, she grabbed a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass to calm her nerves.

As she took a sip, her doorbell rang, causing her cat to scurry off in alarm. Stella placed her glass down and smoothed out her outfit before opening the door. The crisp fall air rushed in, bringing with it the tantalizing scent of Harry's cologne - a masculine blend of woodsy and spicy notes that never failed to drive her wild.

"Welcome to my humble abode," she greeted him with a shrug, trying to play it cool. He hugged her tightly before setting his bag down and taking off his shoes.

"It's lovely," he remarked as he looked around her eclectic apartment filled with vintage knick-knacks and furniture straight out of the 70s. Stella blushed with pride - she may not be much of a decorator, but this was her personal style and Harry seemed to appreciate it.

"I don't think there are many places open for dinner right now, but we can order takeout if you'd like. I know it's late," Stella suggested.

"Oh, that would be great. I'm actually quite hungry," Harry admitted with a sheepish grin.

Stella returned his smile and poured him a glass of wine.

"For you," she said softly as she handed it over.

Together, they sat on her cozy couch, looking through takeout menus. Their options were limited, so they settled on a 24-hour Korean BBQ place that offered delivery services.

"You know," Stella began as they waited for their food to arrive, "I was somewhat surprised when you agreed to come over tonight. You don't even know me."

Harry simply shrugged in response.

"You seemed nice and warm. Sometimes, you have to take a chance in order to truly live," he said with a hint of wisdom in his tone. "I'm constantly surrounded by strangers in my line of work, always staying in hotels. I thought, why not spend some time with a stranger who offers a sense of home? That sounded nice right about now."

Stella placed a comforting hand on his knee and rubbed lightly with her thumb.

"Well, if I can provide that sense of home, even for a little while, then I will." As they sat on the couch, making small talk and waiting for their food, Stella couldn't help but feel grateful for this unexpected connection she had made with Harry.

Stella and Harry’s conversation was soon interrupted by food arriving. The two sat in silence and then cleaned up in silence. The energy of the room could only be described as tired. Stella took Harry down the hall and showed him the bathroom and then took him to the room he would be staying in.

They hugged goodnight and said their goodbyes before Stella finished turning off the lights and heading to bed herself. She wondered how she would sleep. She felt guilty for trying to fall asleep. A part of her felt like she had to stay on duty and protect the treasure that was in the room over. When in reality, if someone broke in she would be the first to go.

The next morning dawned, and as her drowsy eyes gradually cleared, Stella almost forgot that Harry was in the room next to hers. A warm, sweet scent wafted through the air, reminding her of home. Slowly, she got out of bed and walked over to her vanity, taking a moment to fix her disheveled appearance before stepping into the living room.

There stood Harry in the kitchen, his back turned to her as he focused on cooking. He must have heard her footsteps because he turned around with a smile.

"Got up early. Went on a run, found a store and decided to cook for ya," he said over his shoulder, his voice filled with warmth and affection. Stella's heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.

"Oh Harry! You could've woken me up," she exclaimed, feeling guilty for not helping him with breakfast.

But he just shook his head, his light curls bouncing slightly with the movement.

"It was nice. To go out and not be known," he shared with her.

Stella looked at him with loving eyes, marveling at how this famous celebrity could find solace in anonymity.

"I can only imagine. I don't know how you do it all the time. No privacy. Going on a date and having the world see it even if it sucked. I can't imagine, and I’ve been on some pretty bad dates.” she confessed to Harry, unable to hide her admiration.

He laughed lightly, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Well. Why don't I take you out on not a bad date?" he suggested casually, but Stella's heart nearly stopped in her chest at his words. She couldn't believe it - was Harry asking her out on a date?

"If you're sure," she managed to say, trying to keep her cool.

He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close and giving her a warm hug.

"It wasn't just luck, Stella. I found your Instagram a while ago. The small town pics, the cat, the photography. I know your sister's boyfriend and I knew I had to meet you. I was practically drawn to you," he confessed, sending shivers down Stella's spine.

She couldn't believe it - this famous, talented, and incredibly attractive man had an interest in her. With a newfound sense of confidence and excitement, Stella accepted his invitation for a date, eager to see where this unexpected connection would lead them.

Despite being unfamiliar with the town, Harry managed to find a quaint restaurant and drove Stella there in his rental car. For once, he felt a sense of normalcy - the feeling of dating someone without the baggage of fame and paparazzi constantly hounding them. The drive was short, but it gave him time to take in the picturesque scenery of the small town.

As they arrived at the restaurant, Stella's face lit up with recognition. She had been here many times before, and it was clear that she loved this place. The staff greeted her by name as they walked in, and Harry couldn't help but tease her about being the "famous" one.

"It's just a small town," she laughed, "everyone knows everyone."

Over dinner, Harry couldn't shake off the feeling that he already knew Stella, or perhaps had known her in another lifetime. He found himself wanting to do simple things like eating Korean barbecue in bed or buying silly chocolate hearts from CVS - anything to make her smile.

Stella too, felt an instant connection with Harry. Just yesterday she didn't remember his name, now she would drop everything and run away with him if he asked. She wanted him in every way possible.

Their meal ended too quickly, but the silence between them was comfortable and filled with unspoken feelings. After dinner, Harry suggested going out and doing something adventurous, but Stella simply wanted to be home - home with him and a bottle of wine. Much to his surprise, Harry was completely content with that plan.

He drove her back to her house like he had lived in that town his whole life. As they entered her place, Stella kicked off her shoes and made a beeline for the kitchen where she grabbed a bottle of wine. She poured two glasses and handed one to Harry as she fumbled with setting up the record player.

Taking a few sips of wine to calm her nerves, Stella couldn't find the right record to play and let out a frustrated sigh then finished her glass by chugging it. In that moment, Harry realized that he would do anything to make her happy, even if it meant spending the night listening to terrible music.

Stella felt him behind her as he placed a hand on the back of her shoulders. Stella felt the heat of his body, an angelic presence stirring her senses from behind. His touch was electric on the back of her shoulders, sending shivers down her spine. She turned around to face him, their faces just inches apart. The scent of his cologne filled her nostrils - masculine and intoxicating.

Wordlessly, she poured and handed him another glass of wine. Their fingers brushed against each other in the transfer, sparking a flame that coursed through their linked bodies.

"Your choice," she said with a teasing smile, gesturing to the records spread out on the table. He picked up one at random – some old jazz record she'd forgotten about. Harry placed it on the turntable and the sultry sway of a saxophone began to fill the room.

He moved closer to her then, invading her personal space as if he had every right to do so. Harrys hands found their way to her waist, pulling her flush against him. Stella gasped at the feel of his firm body pressing into hers.

“Is this okay?” he murmured into her ear. His breath tickled her skin and made her giggle.

“More than okay,” Stella replied. Her voice was husky, inviting.

His lips trailed kisses from her earlobe down towards her neck, stoking the fire that was quickly building between them. She clutched onto his hair for dear life as pleasure washed over her in waves.

As Harry's hands slipped under Stella's blouse, he gently brushed his fingertips along the small of her back before pressing softly against her bare skin. His touch was electric, sending shivers down her spine as she leaned into him, her heart pounding in anticipation. His other hand slid around to her waist before moving slowly downwards, tracing the lines of her hip and finally reaching the edge of her silk panties. Stella gasped, feeling a rush of heat spreading through her core at his touch.

"Harry," she whispered, unable to form complete thoughts as he began to explore between her legs, teasing and stroking with expert fingers. She leaned into him, letting out soft moans that were quickly drowned out by the music playing in the background. His warm breath caressed her neck, sending shivers down her spine as he nibbled lightly on the soft skin there.

In response, Stella reached up to run her fingers through his hair, loving the feel of it between her fingertips as he continued to tease her. The way he touched her was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before - it was like he knew exactly what she needed, right from the start. With each gentle caress and sigh, she felt herself growing hotter and wetter under his touch.

His fingers found their way inside and she couldn't contain a moan as he teased into places that made every nerve ending light up like fireworks going off in slow motion. He moved with an almost practiced ease that left her panting for more; it was clear that Harry knew exactly what he was doing and it felt so good - better than anything she could have ever imagined. She couldn't help but wrap one leg around him in anticipation.

The music flowed around them, the silky jazz notes wrapping them up in a sensual embrace as Harry's fingers danced with hers, his hands exploring every curve and contour of her body.His touch was firm yet gentle, eliciting soft moans from Stella.

As his mouth neared hers, she parted her lips, eager for his kiss. Their lips met in a tender yet passionate embrace that left them both breathless. He tasted like wine and desire, his tongue dancing with hers playfully before delving deeper into her mouth. They broke apart for air, panting heavily as Harry trailed kisses down her neck and collarbone while continuing to stroke her inner thighs.

Stella continued to run her fingers through his hair, tangling herself up in those curls that smelled of sandalwood and sex appeal. The scent alone made her dizzy with lust; she needed more of him than just this small taste. The warmth from his body seeped into hers as they swayed together to the music—a slow song that matched their slow dance of seduction. She could feel his hardness pressing against her leg; it wasn't long before she grew wetter than ever from anticipation of what was to come next.

Harry leaned back slightly to look at Stella who looked back at him longingly. Her eyes were filled with desire, her pupils dilated from the alcohol and passion. He took a step back to remove his shirt, revealing toned abs and muscles that rippled under his tattooed skin. His hair fell onto his forehead in soft waves, framing his face as he reached for the button of his jeans. With a low growl of need, he undid the button and slid down the zipper before pushing the denim down to rest on his hips.

Stella watched hungrily as Harry stepped out of his pants and kicked them off to the side, revealing a large erection that strained against his boxers. She licked her lips involuntarily at the sight of him, feeling her own arousal growing stronger by the second.

The jazz music continued softly in the background, creating an intimate ambiance between them as they moved closer together once more. Their bodies swaying slowly as if in tune with the melody. Harry pressed himself against Stella's Core invitingly; she could feel how hard he was through their thin fabric separating them.

His tongue traced her earlobe gently before nibbling playfully at it causing shivers to run up her spine. He whispered huskily into her ear, "I want you.” His accent driving her crazy.

She moaned softly in response as he trailed kisses down her neck and collarbone, his warm breath sending shockwaves through her body. His hands roamed over her curves possessively.

"Harry," she breathed out wanting more than just teasing now; needing completion beneath this hands.

The sight of his arousal straining against his boxers made her lick her lips in anticipation. He was thick and hard, and she could see a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip. "Oh god," Stella moaned quietly under her breath.

Harry swiftly discarded his boxers, revealing his length fully to her gaze. Her eyes widened slightly at his size, but there was no fear in her eyes – only an eager curiosity as she reached out to touch him. Her small hand wrapped around him firmly, making him groan in pleasure.

With one swift move he pushed her onto the carpeted floor, pulled off her panties, and spread her thighs wide apart. She looked up at him from beneath heavy lashes, anticipation brewing like a storm within those sultry depths. His fingers found their way to her slick heat, nudging open sensitive folds to gain access to the secrets hidden within.

His finger dipped within the wetness, coating himself in it before retreating to rub circles around the swollen bud nestled above. A bolt of pleasure shot through Stella's body and she writhed beneath him; gasps spilling freely from her parted lips. "Fuck...Harry..."

He continued to tease gently at first, before picking up speed - each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body as he taunted that sweet spot relentlessly. His other hand kneaded and tweaked her breasts, heightening the pleasure. Stella's back arched off the floor as he brought her closer and closer to that edge.

"Harry... I..." she stammered out breathlessly. Her hands grasped at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as an orgasm ripped through her body.

Her screams of pleasure echoed in the dimly lit room as Harry continued to stroke her through her orgasm, drawing out the waves of pleasure until she was left panting and spent beneath him.

Slowly, he nudged her legs further apart with his knee before guiding his hardness to her entrance. She whimpered slightly at the feel of him pressing against her but nonetheless lifted her hips to meet him halfway.

He filled her slowly; each inch driving a gasp from both of them until he was fully embedded within her. Their bodies were connected now - not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually too. Their movements soon found a rhythm; slow and deep thrusts that had her wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him deeper.

His pace gradually increased as they both chased their release; Stella's nails leaving trails down his back as she clung onto him. It wasn't long before she felt another rise in pleasure peaking; this one even more intense than the last. "Harry...I'm going to..."

With one final deep thrust, she screamed his name as pleasure fell over her once again; Harry following suit shortly after with a groan of his own. He collapsed on top of her panting heavily; their sweaty bodies entwined in bliss.

Their shared connection was undeniable. Passionate yet tender, their lovemaking was something far beyond mere physical satisfaction. And so their story began, Harry fell in love with the small town over the week and vowed to visit in when his time was free.

As the week in the small town came to an end, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness. He had never expected to find such a powerful connection with someone in such an unexpected place. But as he looked at her sleeping form next to him, he knew that this was just the beginning of something special.

He gently brushed her hair out of her face and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. She stirred slightly and opened her eyes, a smile spreading across her face when she saw Harry watching her.

"Good morning," she said, her voice still heavy with sleep.

"Morning," Harry replied, unable to keep the smile off his face as he leaned in for another kiss.

They spent their last day together exploring the town, holding hands and stealing kisses whenever they could. They were both reluctant to say goodbye, but they knew it was only temporary. They had promised to stay in touch and make plans for future visits.

As they stood at the airport saying their farewells, Harry made a promise to himself – he would come back here whenever he could. This small town had captured his heart in more ways than one.

In the weeks that followed, they kept their promise and stayed connected through phone calls and messages. And when Harry's schedule allowed it, he would make the trip back to that small town, always finding new adventures and creating more memories with her by his side.

His bandmates noticed a change in him – he seemed happier, more at peace. And when they asked about it, all Harry could do was smile and tell them about this magical place that had become his sanctuary.

But as much as he loved visiting this small town and spending time with her, Harry knew that eventually their paths would diverge once again. His music career took him all over the world and she was rooted in this quaint little town. With that knowledge looming over them, they cherished every moment they had together. And in those moments, their love only grew stronger.

#one direction #harry styles smut #famous!harry #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles masterlist #harry styles #oneshot #harry styles writing #harry styles fan fic #harrystyles #one shot #harry smut #harrys house #harry styles blurb

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honeyangelkiwi · 3 days

Text

Bull Riding & Boobies

Plot: Going to the bar and bull riding 🤷🏽‍♀️

Sexual Content: slight exhibitionism, grinding

Word count: 2.5k

The mechanical bull was throwing him around like he weighed nothing, but he was holding on for dear life, refusing to be tossed off. His hair was pulled into a loose bun on the top of his head. His head was thrown back in laughter, eyes crinkled shut, and with the widest smile on his face.

“I hate physical activity!” He hollered and everyone in the small bar laughed up at him. His friends were chanting for him to get someone up there with him and my friend did not hesitate to try and push me forward.

“No, there’s no way I can get up there with Harry fucking Styles! I can’t even believe we ended up in the same fucking bar as him!” I hiss at her as she still tries to push me forward.

“This is your chance, plus it’s your birthday! Just go!” She laughs at me and gives me a harder shove that actually makes me move forward a couple of steps. I turn around to see if anyone has noticed and, of course, I see one of his friends pointing at me.

Just as I am about to turn around and run for the hills, his head turns my way. The ride had come to a pause and it seems his friend had gotten his attention to turn towards me. I stood frozen, unable to move from his gaze. His eyes were sparked with mischief, adorning a matching smirk.

My best friend started pushing me forward again and all I could do was shake my head. I could see Harry start to laugh as he lifted his pointer finger to motion me over. I guess I didn’t have much of a choice now. I couldn’t say no to the Harry Styles.

I start to walk over, shocked, and face red with heat that could put hell to shame. As I approach, he looks down at me from his spot perched up on the fake bull and smirks once again. “Hope on up, love.” He says and pats the spot in front of him.

Shaking my head a little to clear the chaos and get a bit of confidence back I look up to him and smile sweetly. “Which way do you want me… love? Would you rather look at my chest or my backside?” I question, and wow where did that come from. I look back up at him through my thick lashes and see the shocked look on his face.

I could see how stunned he was, but he soon shook the feeling from himself and his eyes immediately darkened. I was so startled by the quick change that I subconsciously took a step back. With the smirk back on his face he reaches a hand down for me to take and helps me hop on, my back flush with his chest.

“I guess we know you’re an ass man then, Harry Styles.” The words tumble from my lips before my mind could catch up with my mouth. Before I could overthink I turned to look at him with a smirk and see he’s leaning into my ear. “I would say both, but for this specifically, I am definitely an ass man.” He says and I involuntarily shiver from the feeling of his breath cascading down my neck.

I can’t help the way my head falls back into his chest as my eyes flutter shut, the feeling going straight to my core. I feel his hands slide around me, one grasping my hip and the other grasping the handle in front of us.

“Couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have a free ride.” His voice drops lower as his mouth meets the skin just below my ear. Goosebumps rise across my skin understanding what he was implying. Who would have thought he would be so… filthy and straight forward in such a public space and with a stranger.

The grip he has on my waist is burning straight through me. His rings pressed into my skin and I can feel how clammy his hands were from the previous round he did up here. I glance to my side to see my friend staring at us, mouth on the floor. I simply shrugged at her, silently telling her ‘this was your idea.’

She laughs at herself and shakes her head, walking off towards the bar. Knowing her, she’s going to have a round waiting for us when this is over.

Having not been paying attention to the task at hand I jump, startled when the ride slowly starts moving. “Better hold on love, it doesn’t stay this easy.” Harry leans back down to my ear. The hand on my hip slides around my waist and pulls me back, until I am practically sitting on his lap.

I wiggle my hips around a bit to tease him. “You’re in for one hell of a free ride.” I chuckle towards him when I hear the smallest groan fall past his bright, pink lips, wet from licking them.

I still can’t wrap my head around him being so forward with a random girl, but I’m not complaining. I just can’t believe this is actually happening, and to me of all people, and on my birthday. Whatever God people believe in, I’m thanking him.

“I hope this is okay, love. Did I mention how gorgeous you are? I’m glad my friend put my attention on you.” He says into my ear, the bull starting to move around a bit more. His lips move down to my neck and leave a small open-mouthed kiss.

“Mmm, this may sound bad to say to a stranger, but it’s more than okay.” I tell him, moving my neck more to the side to give him more access, hoping he’ll keep up the gentle assault. “I have a feeling this is going to be one hell of a birthday present.” I say.

He pulls back a little to look down at me, eyebrows raised with a surprised look on his face. “Well then, should I wait to tell you happy birthday before or after your present?” If I wasn’t on this contraption my thighs would be pressed so tight together. The suggestion in his tone is fogging my brain. “How about after.” I tell him.

Just as he was about to respond the machine jerked particularly hard and sent my backside grinding right into his lap. I let out a gasp, only now realizing the hardness pressed up against me. The fact that I was wearing a dress that ended up laid out over the both of us instead of underneath my bottom made it easy to feel everything… and there was definitely a lot to feel.

“Jesus fuck.” He groaned out, head dropping to my shoulder. The machine continued to jerk around some more. It was both sending my ass back into his center and whipping us around like ragdolls. It somehow managed to be perfectly balanced, riling us both up some more.

I can feel how sweaty he is behind me. His arms coated in a thin sheen, glowing in the darkened room. It's coating through his shirt enough that I can feel it on my back, and it may seem weird, but I can’t wait to get a taste. His grip tightens on my waist briefly and I turn to look at him questioningly, only to see his gaze focused solely on my chest.

I can tell he wasn’t lying about being a boobs and ass guy, because if we weren’t up here right now, based on the look on his face, it would be buried into my chest. I can’t help but groan thinking of those diamond shaped lips wrapped around my nipples, sucking and biting them. I can see him teasing his hand down into my panties and praising how wet I was for him from a simple touch.

Still not believing that I was quite literally on Harry Styles fucking lap I glance around the small bar and see that no one is actually paying attention to us up here. I would assume it was because there weren’t many people here to begin with.

Suddenly, Harry’s arm that was around my waist lets go, and for a split second I panicked knowing I would go flying off if he wasn’t holding on. But just as quickly as he let go, he was grabbing onto me again, except this time his arm went under my dress to hold on to me.

“Still okay, love?” He asks, and I can’t lie, my heart fluttered at the way he was caring enough to make sure I was okay with everything. I tell him yes, and I can’t deny how turned on I am that he’s doing this. Turned on by the fact that anyone can look over at us and see his hand under my dress and the looks on our faces and know exactly what’s happening up here.

With another quick look around I turn and glance at him. His eyes are black, no longer green, the lust is pouring from him and the second we make eye contact the tension between us skyrockets. Deciding to take this further I pick up the rhythm of the ride, grinding back into him in time with the machine.

Aside from his hand being under my dress, from the outside it simply looks like we’re successfully maneuvering our way on this beast, not teasing each other up here. “You gonna come with me when we’re done up here?” He quite literally moans in my ear. His voice is several tones deeper, raspy, and laced with need.

“As long as you want me to. Nothing more I’d wa…” I couldn’t control the moan that fell from my mouth. The cheeky fucker decided it was the pefect time to take the hand that was holding onto me and move it to my core. He wasn’t shy at all, because he full on pulled my panties to the side and swiped his fingers from my entrance to my clit, stopping to rub a small circle.

My head fell forward as I gasped for air, shocked he was bold enough to do that up here. He pulled his hand back and I couldn’t stop the whine that fell from my lips, needing more than just the small, tantalizing touch.

“Harry, don’t fucking tease me. If you’re gonna touch me then do it and don’t stop.” I snap at him, turning my head in his direction, frustrated with the teasing. I wanted to slap the smirk right off of his face. “So fucking needy baby, don’t worry. I’ll take care of that ache between your legs. Get your belly in that feeling I know you’re craving right now.” And Christ does his filthy mouth make the wetness between my legs pool even more.

He glances around for a second before he suddenly grabs my hair and pushes me down so that my chest is flat against the ride. As soon as he does the machine starts jerking very violently, sending his hardness right up into my center with each movement.

It takes everything in me not to moan out, because every movement pushes him straight into my clit. The roughness of his jeans is very noticeable through my thin underwear. Being up here is doing nothing but sending us both spiraling and I can’t wait to get off. It seems like we’ve been up here for hours, but it couldn't have been more than two minutes.

There’s no way people don’t know what’s happening here. It takes one glance at us to see me bent over, face and chest flush against the bull, Harry’s hands wrapped in my hair and around my waist, and his hips driving into me at a sickening pace. If there weren’t clothes separating us his cock would be driving straight into the spot I crave him the most.

Harry bends over so his mouth hits my ear, moaning absolute filth to me while his hips continue driving into me. “If there weren’t people around right now love I would have my cock so deep in you you’d feel me up in your tummy. I can feel how wet you are, soaking me through my pants, gonna make it look like I came for you up here. Wanna have you bent over a counter right now so you can watch me in the mirror, fucking you so good I have to hold you up.” I can only moan, feeling myself clench around nothing.

“Fuck baby, I can feel you tryna squeeze me.” He moans, his face so close to my mouth that I can’t help but to reach out and kiss him. Only we both get thrown from the ride and I’m scrambling to keep my dress covering myself.

I catch my breath for a minute and glance over at Harry who is smirking down at his pants. There is, in fact, a wet spot right where we were attached and, although I’m still very turned on, I can’t help the need to look down, letting my hair fall across my face as a curtain to hide the embarrassment.

“Don’t be shy now, love. We’re just getting started.” He says and holds a hand out to help me up. He starts leading me away from the ride towards the bathrooms and if I wasn’t so turned on from the ride I would have refused, but it’s Harry Styles and I am turned on. So, to the bathroom we go.

I glance over my shoulder for my friend and catch her eye. The look she’s giving me let’s me know she saw what just happened and can’t fucking believe it either. I gave a shrug and waved my hand at her letting her know she can leave without me if she wants. She nods and then shakes her head laughing while leaving. Right before we walk into the bathroom she hollers happy birthday to me across the bar. Fortunately, no one was paying attention or everyone would see me walking in here with a guy.

Luckily, this is a single bathroom and it isn’t occupied. He swiftly locks the door and grabs my waist, shoving me into the door with just enough force that it’s still attractive. His lips are on my neck in an instant. “You looked so good bent over for me out there, love.” and he pulls back slightly to finally smash his lips onto mine………

#harries #fanfic #harry styles imagine #harrystyles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry!smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles oneshot #harry edward styles #harry fanfic #smut

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cupidsdolll · 3 months

Text

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; best friend!harry x fem!reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; time apart helps both Harry and Y/N learn more about themselves and their feelings.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 3.1k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; slight angst? i’m pretty sure that’s it!

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬; hi hello! here’s the long awaited part two! part one is linked here for anyone who hasn’t read it yet! i hope you all like it <3

- - - -

Heartbreak is always one of the worst pains, but Harry thinks the absence of someone that’s been in your life for as long as you can remember hurts worse. It’s been a week since Y/N said she needed space after confessing her feelings for him and he’s just miserable. He’s not as happy as he normally is, and it seems as if everything reminds him of her. Even the things his girlfriend Liv does reminds him of his best friend, he’s found himself comparing the two.

He doesn’t mean any harm honestly, just sometimes Liv will do something and his mind will go back to how Y/N would do the same thing just differently. For instance, Liv is on her way to bring him some tea in hope it’ll cheer him up at least just a little bit, Harry’s excited to try her tea. It’s one of his favorite drinks if he’s being honest. A knock comes from the door and he tells his roommate that he’ll get it, he’s already standing up and making his way to the door. When he opens it, Liv is standing in front of him sporting a bright smile and happiness.

“Hi, hon. I brought you that tea I was talking about!” She says and he smiles back, a little hesitant but excited nonetheless.

“Thanks, babe. Come on in, I hope you don’t mind that my roommate’s here.” He says and she shakes her head, his mate’s never been a problem with Liz, the one thing he notices is different from Y/N. Liz is more natural hanging around in the boys’ dorm whereas Y/N tended to not want to come over. Something about the smell and how loud the halls are, he doesn’t blame her most of the time though. Liz walks over and makes herself comfortable on the arm rest of the chair Harry was sitting at before, ushering him over excitedly. He chuckles as he makes his way over, reminding him of how Y/N would act whenever she’s excited to show him something.

He sits down and she hands the cup to him, it's warm but not too hot, he’s assuming the walk here helped cool it down. He takes a hesitant sip, he doesn’t want to take too big of a sip just in case he doesn’t like it. It’s good, sweet but still has that leafy taste and it flows nicely. It’s not overwhelming with any of the tastes and it’s just.. good. He smiles as he stares at the cup, his mind wandering back to Y/N. He always enjoyed her tea, she always managed to create the perfect balance and temperature. Y/N makes the perfect tea, will always be better than anyone’s, better than Liz’s.

He shouldn’t be thinking about Y/N right now though, so he blinks twice to clear his head and turns to his girlfriend.

“It’s good, thank you. I appreciate you doing this for me, I know you didn’t have to.” He says and she just laughs.

“I know, I wanted to, H. It’s no big deal really.” She says. He feels bad, ever since he and Y/N stopped talking as much, he’s found himself comparing the way Liz cooks and acts to Y/N.

Y/N likes to wear more cozy clothes unless it’s actually going out, where she feels like she needs to impress someone whereas Liz tends to dress up all the time. She’s always dressed in nice looking clothes and adorned in jewelry and smells nice. He likes that Y/N always felt comfortable with him and didn’t feel the need to impress him, not that he doesn’t like that Liz puts forth all this effort into her looks because he does. Whenever he and Liz go to watch a movie, she normally wants to watch something with romance but occasionally she’ll tell Harry to turn on whatever he wants if she’s coming over for a nap.

Y/N usually put on a comedy movie and sometimes they ended up being a rom-com but they always alternate days so Harry can feel included. He misses that, he misses Y/N. He’s not sure if they’ll ever talk again, he thinks her dramatics are rubbing off on him. He just hates the absence of her, he never realized just how happy she made him feel. She made him feel warm and sometimes he’s got those silly butterflies whenever he looks at her, but he just assumed that was normal for how close of a friendship they had. He never realized just how much time they spent together, how special she was and how different from his other love interests he’s had.

But he’s never considered Y/N as a love interest, she’s always just been his best friend. Sure enough, he did like to flirt with her a little bit whenever he was drunk but that was only because he liked seeing her all flustered. He thought it was cute and it was hard for him to get her like that. Yeah, he loved her but in the same way friends love each other, it’s normal for them to say it before leaving or just because. They’ve always been just friends, the best of friends and that’s how they were supposed to be.

He feels a tap on his shoulder, a soft touch to bring him out of his mind, he’s been doing that almost daily.

“You’re thinking about her again, Haz. Can’t we just hang out without her taking your attention? This is good, it allows you to be your own person now.” Liz says sweetly, genuinely. She tries to be supportive, she really does but there’s just so long you can watch your boyfriend be heartbroken over a girl, especially one he never dated. They haven’t even been dating long, but they had only been dating for a couple of days before Harry told her she had to meet his best friend. Ever since Y/N shut the door on them and he had ushered her back so he could try to talk to his best friend and figure everything out with tears beginning to fill his eyes, it’s just been a repeat of the same days over and over again.

- - - -

When Harry walks the halls, he can’t help but to hope that he’ll be able to see Y/N on her way to class. He admits that it’s weird not walking her to class and being around her, it was their norm for quite a while. A part of him hopes that when he sees her that she’s just as miserable as him but he feels bad about that, he wants her to be happy. He wants to see that she’s doing well and that she’s happy. He always loved to see her happy, it just looked so good on her. So when he sees her sporting a bright smile as she talks with two people he hasn’t seen before, it makes his heart skip a beat and hurt a little at the same time. He’s happy that she’s doing well, he really is, it just hurts that he’s not the cause of the bright smile on her face.

He hopes that she’ll look over here so he can wave, just a small acknowledgment would hold him over he thinks. The halls are crowded and loud, he can’t help but to sigh as he accidentally bumps into someone. She always had this magnetic aura to her, always had his gaze being pulled to her. Ever since she called for a break, she’s all he’s ever been able to think about, the main thing he looks at and for. He wants even the smallest attention from her, it helps the pain in his heart.

He watches as her head turns just the slightest and their eyes meet, a warm feeling enveloping Harry as he smiles and waves at her. She just gives him the same smile she’s always given him, warm, friendly and loving, and waves back. The pain goes away leaving a happy feeling in his chest, he doesn’t feel bad about bumping into students in the hall. He watches as she walks away before making his way to his own class.

- - - -

Y/N doesn’t miss Harry as much as she thought she would. That’s a lie, she misses him terribly but after a couple of days moping and several streams of tears shed, she thinks she’s doing okay. He stays on her mind but she’s able to tune those memories out by doing the activities she likes. She joined some book club on campus and made a couple of friends that enjoy some of the same stuff she does, which is such a relief. While Harry listened and tried his best to participate in things she enjoyed but some stuff he just never got into the way she did.

The past week she’s been attending the book club and talking about the books they’re reading, she’s cut back on some of the stuff she used to do. She dropped out of two of her classes that she did just for fun and stopped volunteering every week to give herself more time to relax. She walks with them to class when she can, and they talk on the phone sometimes. She’s happy for the most part, happier than she thought she would be.

Don’t get her wrong, she still gets upset over the fact that Harry isn’t around all of the time, it’s usually late at night or early in the morning when she misses him the most. She misses him when his favorite song plays and when she sees him in the hallway. She feels bad then, seeing him all heartbroken and moping around. She’s never seen him so down, and she wishes she never said anything to begin with in those moments. She hates the fact that he’s heartbroken over her.

She’s happy for the break, as much time as the two spent together, the break allows her a chance to know who she is outside of Harry. She’s found ways to cope with this ache for him, playing songs he’s never heard before distracts her from thinking of him. Finding new books to read, new shows to watch. Not letting her look at him for too long whenever they pass each other in the halls, hide his clothes (minus the one hoodie she sleeps

in, she can’t bear to part with it because after all it’s not a complete end to the friendship.

She spends a little (a lot) of time telling herself that just being friends is okay, her feelings will go away and they’ll go back to being best friends. She knows they won’t go back to being where they were before she confessed, but hopefully it’ll be somewhat the same as before. She hopes with everything in her that she’ll be able to get over her feelings for him in a reasonable time, and doesn't want to drag this out any longer than what’s needed. She’ll remind herself when she starts thinking of him randomly, when she sees a picture of them in her phone. They always should’ve been best friends, nothing more and nothing less. That’s how the universe wanted them to be.

Everything was fine the way they were, now she has to get over her feelings for him in order to get him back. She sees him everywhere it seems, hard to avoid him even though she doesn’t necessarily want to, in the halls at school or passing by on the sidewalks. She’s nice to him, doesn’t want to make him feel even more upset. She can feel his eyes on her every time, a tingling feeling on the back of her neck before she turns around to face him.

She’s met with the same hurt expression, his eyes full of emotion and telling her how much he misses her. He waves subtly as if he doesn’t think she’ll see it, won’t want to see it but of course she does. She always sees it, how could she not see it when anytime they’re in proximity of each other gems all she’s able to look at. Of course she waves, even gives him a warm smile, one that has and always will be reserved just for him. She still wants to be friendly with him, to keep that door open for the two of them and their friendship.

They don’t really talk other than saying hi as they pass one another in the halls, or if they happen to need to copy notes. They got partnered once after everything, a sense of awkwardness filled the air between them and Y/N hated it. Hated that she felt like she didn’t know what to talk about, didn’t know what limits were with this weird boundary set by her. She feels like she should know, she should’ve known since she was the one who drew the line.

Their conversations were awkward and pointed, pain lingering in their voices as they mentally decided not to talk about anything personal. It’s better that way honestly, it keeps her from breaking and allowing him back when she knows she’s not ready. The wall built between them shows her just how much he’s hurting, shows her how much she hurt him. She never meant to hurt him, she knew breaking it off would cause a toll on him. She never thought it would be as bad as it is, never expected to see the bags forming under his eyes.

She never expected him to be so…torn up about it, to cave in on himself and go quiet. She can feel his eyes on her all of the time, and can see whenever he fights back tears. She watches as Liz tries to cheer him up, hugs him and runs her fingers through his hair. She watches as Liz brings him cups of whatever drink is in them, watches as he thanks her with a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. She thought that maybe he’d continue partying like he always did, ignore her or something of the sort. He should be giving all of his attention to Liz, not moping on about losing her. His mind just always seems to be elsewhere, his gaze is always sad and unfocused.

- - - -

Two months later the two are doing just fine on their own. Y/N found out from a classmate that’s on Harry’s soccer team that Harry had broken up with Liz about a month ago. They wouldn’t say why they broke up and Y/N wasn’t going to be the one to ask. The two of them have gotten more friendly with one another, there’s no awkwardness whenever they’re paired up and they’ll sometimes sit together at lunch. Y/N thinks she’s able to be his friend again, and doesn't get the intense butterflies in her stomach whenever she looks at him.

She doesn’t want to kiss him as much as she used to, although the urge still comes up whenever she thinks he’s being the cutest boy ever. She decides to bring it up as they sit together during lunch.

“Hey, Harry?” She asks and he hums in response to her.

“I think I’m ready to be your friend again.” She asks and watches as his face lights up. His eyes brighten and a huge smile appears on his face.

“Really?” His voice is full of excitement and she smiles as she nods.

“Yeah, I think so.” He immediately wraps her in a hug and she melts into it.

“I missed you, honey.” He says and she smiles as she responds.

“I missed you too, Haz.” He squeezes her tighter, as if he wants to remember the feeling of her body pressed against his.

“Those three months without you were absolutely horrible. I want to apologize again for leading you on unintentionally, but these three months have shown me something.” He says as he pulls away.

She stares at him confused, he’s already apologized numerous times so she’s not sure what else needs to be said.

“What’s that?” She asks and he smiles.

“I can’t imagine a life without you by my side. I missed you so much and hated not being able to just come over and talk to you. I like you. I’m sorry for not realizing it sooner and I know it’s a terrible time to say it now that you’re back in my life. It’s perfectly okay if you don’t feel the same way anymore, but if you do I’d love to ask you out and take you out properly.” He says and she almost wants to scream.

She spent so much time getting over him and now he just wants to spring his feelings on her now? She thinks the whole situation is absolutely absurd and the two of them have terrible timing of their feelings. She sighs tiredly as she stares at him.

“When did you figure this out, you dummy?” She asks and he shakes his head, as if he’s in disbelief.

“Uh like a month and a half ago, I think? I’m not quite sure when exactly it happened. All I know I spent my whole relationship with Liz comparing her to you and I missed you entirely too much to ever risk losing you again. The whole like high school years up until three months ago, we acted like a couple unknowingly. I know we just labeled it best friends, but normal best friends don’t act like we did. I’m sorry once again,” Harry says as he watches her in hopes he’ll be able to read her.

She just smiles softly at him, her eyes so full of emotions that it’s hard to read which ones are in them.

“You better be glad my feelings for you didn’t go away completely. Yes you can take me out, Harry. It’s okay, I’ve missed you too.” She says and immediately his hands make his way to her face and he slowly begins to move closer. He wants to allow her time to say no, to change her mind but it never comes and he smiles briefly before their lips meet in a soft tender kiss. A kiss so full of love and warmth, making up for all the years missed and tears she cried unknowingly. It fills both of them with happiness as she giggles into the kiss and pulls away.

“Does that mean I can call you my boyfriend now?” She asks and he nods.

“Baby, you can call me anything you want now,” He says and she laughs, a mischievous flickers passes through her eyes.

“Even my best friend?” He immediately shakes his head and laughs.

“Anything but that.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry edward styles #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fan fic #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic #harry #harrystyles #harry styles oneshot #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #best friend!harry #my writing

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froghazz · 10 months

Text

Maré

Avisos: Praise Kink, degradation kink, spit kink, exibicionismo leve, slap face, spanking/impact play, fisting, bondage, breeding kink. (Acho que é só.)

Mamãe espera que vocês gostem e gozem, amo vocês demais! Boa leitura. 🤍

💌

- Achei que você tinha dito pra você nunca mais me procurar, Styles. – Louis soltou a fumaça da maconha pra cima, ajeitando o fuzil pendurado em seu corpo, o jogando pro lado.

- Oh meu gatinho, você sabe que não consegue ficar longe de mim. – Harry sorriu encantador, as covinhas fundas e os dentinhos de coelho aparecendo. Se aproximou de Louis, olhando pros lados no beco escuro pra ter certeza que estavam sozinhos antes de lhe dar um selinho do canto da boca, não sendo retribuído por Louis. – Você ainda está bravo comigo? – Harry fez bico, apoiando as mãos na parede fria atrás de Louis, o olhando nos olhos.

- Você acha que eu sou otário, não é? – Louis riu sem humor. – Deixa eu ver se eu entendi. Você é um filhinho de papai que nem teve coragem pra me assumir publicamente, é mimado pra cacete, implora pelo meu pau à três anos e quando eu te digo que tô maluco por você, tu mete o pé e some, aparece namorando um loiro sem sal e vem me procurar pra foder? Tu acha que eu sou o que, Styles? Caça teu rumo. – Louis tinha o maxilar travado, fumando o cigarro de maconha sem ao menos olhar pro rosto de Harry.

- Oh meu gatinho, você sabe que eu não posso terminar com ele, meu pai me mataria, é aliança eleitoral. Tu também sabe que meu coração é todo seu, mas eu não posso te assumir, Lou. Todo mundo sabe que você é o dono dessa favela, o que você quer que eu faça? – Harry suspirou.

- Esse não é o caô, Harry. Tu sabe que não é. Já te disse mil vezes que por você eu largava toda essa merda, porra. Largava a favela, o tráfico, ia trampar em loja e me endireitar. Tudo por você, enquanto tu nem tem cu pra admitir que só não me ama. Mete o pé, Styles, não tenho mais nada pra falar com você. – Louis empurrou o peito de Harry, puto pra caralho.

- Lou, por favor. – Harry choramingou, cobrindo o rosto com as mãos. – Não faz assim comigo.

- Porra Harry, que porra! – Louis o girou pela cintura, empurrando seu peito de encontro com a parede. Harry assustou, apoiando as duas mãos na parede quando seu cabelo foi puxado pra trás, sua cabeça apoiada no ombro de Louis. – Tu quer a porra do meu pau na sua bunda de vagabunda, não é? – Ele perguntou, apoiando o cigarro entre os lábios pra espalmar um tapa ardido na bochecha de Harry. – Me responde!

- Sim, eu quero. – Harry engasgou, sentindo seu pau latejar nas calças só pela pouca interação.

- Essa vai ser a última vez. Tu vai ter meu pau bem aqui, na merda desse beco e vai levar minha porra pro seu namoradinho. A merda desse tempo todo eu te tratei como uma princesa, te fodi na cama com aquelas merdas de lençóis caros que você tanto ama. Eu te ofereci os jantares mais caros dos restaurantes que você ama, dentro da minha casa, porque você tem vergonha de mim. Eu te apresentei pra minha mãe e pra minha família, tu foi a minha pior decisão, Harry. – Louis segurou as bochechas de Harry com brutalidade. – Todo o circo que você vive, esbanjando dinheiro e ganhando jóia todo santo dia, qualquer um vai te dar. Mas nenhum outro vai te foder como eu, nenhum outro vai te fazer gozar até ficar babando e chorando, implorando pra parar. Nenhum, Harry, vai te bater tão bem quanto eu, exatamente como você gosta. Tu pode ter luxo, uma mansão, carro caro e a porra de um anel de diamante. Mas nunca, nunca, você vai ser amado do jeito que eu te amo. – Louis o soltou, jogando o fuzil pendurado pra trás das costas. – Ajoelha. – sussurrou.

- Aqui não, Lou. – Harry choramingou.

- Eu tenho pena de você, na moral. – Louis riu sem humor, virando as costas para Harry e descendo o beco.

- Não! Louis. – Harry o puxou pela regata, caindo aos seus pés de joelhos. – Estou aqui. – ele engoliu em seco, tentando segurar o choro entalado na garganta.

- Implora. – Louis mandou.

- Por favor, gatinho. Me deixa te mamar, me fode, me usa como quiser. Por favor, Lou, eu preciso de você. – Harry agarrava o shorts de Louis, esfregando a bochecha no pau marcado. – Não vai embora, amor.

Louis deu um último trago no beck antes de apagar, o guardando no bolso. Ele abriu o shorts sem enrolação, puxando o pau pra fora da cueca e o segurando firme, o esfregando no rostinho de Harry.

- Abre a boca e mama direito. – Louis mandou, segurando firme dos cabelos de Harry, o sentindo lamber a glande e sugar, gemendo baixinho no seu pau. – Engole inteiro, princesa. Sei que tu consegue. – Ele empurrou a cabeça de Harry contra sua pelve, o assistindo respirar pelo nariz até que seu pau estivesse todo dentro, latejando na garganta pequena. – Porra, boneca, vai ser difícil pra caralho achar outro que faça tão gostoso assim. – Louis riu vendo Harry franzir o cenho, bravo, arranhando suas coxas. Ele sabia o quão ciumento seu garoto era, sabia que por mais que não admitisse, ele preferia morrer do que ver Louis com outro. – Relaxa pra eu foder tua boquinha. – pediu, tirando o pau até a cabecinha e voltando até a garganta, começando a foder lento e aumentando a velocidade, vendo Harry babando pra caralho e as lágrimas gordas deslizando nas bochechas vermelhinhas. – Assim, do jeitinho que eu te ensinei. – Louis gemia rouco, sendo impiedoso com Harry, usando sua boca como bem queria. Ele sentia o garoto esfregando a língua nas veias do seu cacete, sugando forte pra sentir o gosto do pré gozo, o fazendo quer encher a boca quente de porra, o fazendo engolir tudinho como um bom menino. Ele tirou o cacete da boca de Harry, o puxando pra cima pelos cabelos. O empurrou na parede e o beijou, o fazendo amolecer em seus braços. Sua mão já conhecia cada botão de cada roupa do cacheado, adestrada por tantas vezes que fora ela a abrir suas calças com rapidez, sem paciência pra estar dentro dele o mais rápido possível. Usou a habilidade conquistada pra abrir a calça social dele, enfiando a mão por dentro da cueca e apertando a carne farta da bunda com força, o fazendo gemer em sua boca.

- Entra em mim, Lou, me fode. – Harry choramingou, punhetando o pau de Louis completamente babado.

- Vira. – Louis sussurrou ofegante, abaixando a calça e a cueca de Harry de uma só vez. Harry apoiou as mãos na parede, separando as pernas o máximo que podia. Foi surpreendido quando ao invés do pau gostoso se esfregando a borda do seu cuzinho tão necessitado, ganhou um tapa forte e ardido na bunda branca. Gemeu alto, sentindo Louis tapar sua boca e começar a espancar sua bunda, o batendo mais forte do que todas as outras vezes. Ele não queria que Harry sentisse tesão, ele queria que Harry sentisse a mesma dor que ele sentia no peito. – Eu te odeio, playboyzinho. – Louis segredou, espalmando tapas e mais tapas, deixando a bunda com a pele arroxeada. Harry quis responder mas a mão possessiva de Louis em sua boca o impedia, tanto quanto os gemidos que o fazia engasgar a cada golpe. Louis cuspiu em seus dedos, esfregando no cuzinho que pulsava, não resistindo à meter dois dedos de uma vez. Ele tirou a mão da boca de Harry e deslizou até o pescoço suado, apertando e regulando sua respiração. Os dedos passaram a estocar rude, abrindo o rabo tão gostoso de foder.

- Sei que não me odeia. – Harry gemeu, se empurrando contra as estocadas.

- Cala a porra da boca, Harry. – Louis disse rude em sua orelha. – Usa a boca pra algo útil e geme meu nome. – ele mordeu a pele do pescoço dele, sugando a pele e deixando um chupão enorme, o marcando como seu.

- Me fode com seu pau, Louis. – Harry brigou, contradizendo os olhos revirados e os gemidos gritados. – Por favor.

- Tu implora igual puta pro seu namoradinho também? Hm? – Louis esfregou a cabecinha do pau dolorido no rabo apertado do outro, empurrando e sentindo sua relutância em alargar. – Nem parece que ele te usa, tá apertado igual a porra de uma virgem. – Louis gemeu rouco, adentrando a camisa do cacheado e beliscando seus mamilos.

- Larga de besteira, ele nunca me tocou, gatinho. – Harry disse com a respiração desregulada. – Fode sua princesa, fode? – Harry olhou pra Louis como pode, puxando-o pela nuca e o beijando de imediato, precisando de todo toque que pudesse receber.

Louis suspirou, gemendo junto com Harry ao que estocou a primeira vez, segurando firme em sua cintura e passando a foder sem dó, deslizando a mão até o pau negligenciado de Harry e passando a punhetar, o fazendo gritar de tesão e se empurrar cada vez mais contra suas estocadas. – Que rabo apertado, porra. – Louis sussurrou em seus lábios. – Vai, continua se fodendo no meu pau, me mostra como é um cachorrinho desesperado. – Louis soltou seu pescoço, firmando as mãos na cintura do outro e o puxando contra sua pelve, empurrando o pau até o fundo, rápido e rude, a cabeça girando ouvindo Harry gritar seu nome. – Fala que precisa de mim, que não sabe viver sem teu macho, fala? – Louis sussurrou em seu ouvido entre gemidos.

- Não sei, meu gatinho, sou tua boneca, só tua. – Harry gemeu, olhando em seus olhos. – Preciso do seu pau mais fundo, Lou. – disse manhoso.

- Porra, tira essa calça. – Louis se afastou, vendo Harry passar a mesma dos seus calcanhares com os próprios pés. Ele o girou, segurando atrás de suas coxas e entrelaçando suas pernas em seus cintura. Pressionou suas costas na parede e o segurou firme com uma só mão, metendo nele de novo e o sentindo descer até a borda.

- Puta merda! – Harry agarrou mais forte os braços em volta de seu pescoço, ajeitando as pernas tendo cuidado com o fuzil.

Louis apertou a bunda de Harry com as duas mãos, estocando pra cima, o fodendo contra a parede. Ele o beijou, um beijo quente e errado, esfregando suas línguas e gemendo um na boca do outro. O pau de Harry se esfregava entre seus corpos e sua costa ardia raspando na parede chapiscada e a cada segundo eles sentiam mais a falta de ar e a exaustão dos músculos, mas nada disso faria com que parassem. Harry se sentia sujo e isso o fazia delirar em tesão, o cacete de Louis surrava sua próstata e os seus dentes maltratavam seu lábio inferior, as mãos possessivas em sua bunda eram a promessa das marcas que ele observaria por dias até poder tê-las novamente. A verdade era que Harry era completamente apaixonado por Louis, ele sabia que o homem era sua obsessão, sua paixão e o dono do seu coração. Ficar sem Louis era desesperador. Ele conheceu o garoto aos dezessete e ele ganhou todo seu coração, mas seu pai ameaçou jogar Louis na cadeia se o visse junto ao filho mais uma vez. Ele tentou tirar o garoto da cabeça, tentou se apaixonar e viver com um playboy qualquer mas era impossível, ninguém jamais seria seu favelado que o bate até chorar e o mima até dormir, o que fica com seu coração toda vez que tem que ir embora, o que seria capaz de matar por ele mas nunca de quebrar seu coração. Foi por isso que voltou pra favela da Maré depois de anos e pegou seu homem de volta, porque era impossível viver sem ele. Doía ter que ir embora mas doeria mais não poder voltar, e ele tinha consciência de que toda vez que ia embora e voltava, machucava o coração de ambos.

- Continua me marcando, me deixa ter você na pele. – Harry gemeu, o pensamento navegando em nuances de Louis.

- Tu ama sentir que me pertence, né? Meu cachorrinho de coleira. – Louis sorriu, passando a marcar todo pescoço de Harry. – vou deixar você todo machucado pro teu namoradinho saber que tu é uma puta, a minha puta gostosa e obediente, viciada no meu pau, maluca pra ser fodida na ponta da minha Glock.

- Preciso disso. – Harry gemeu, sentindo sua pele arder. – Porra Lou, eu vou gozar. – choramingou arranhando a nuca dele, que passou a estocar mais forte contra sua próstata. – Vai amor, me deixa todo aberto vazando com seu leitinho até as coxas.

- Goza princesa, goza no meu pau. – Louis passou a levantar e abaixar o corpo de Harry, entrando fundo nele, surrando a próstata inchada. – Vou deixar teu rabo largo e molhado, vazando igual uma boceta, do jeitinho que tu quer. – Louis sussurrou em seu ouvido.

- Isso amor, usa minha bocetinha, toda apertada só pra você abrir com seu pau. – Harry tombou a cabeça no pescoço de Louis, passando a marcar seu pescoço assim como ele fez consigo, sentindo o orgasmo tão próximo que seu rabo pulsava forte, o pau doía junto das bolas pesadas e as pernas tremiam. – Porra! Eu preciso de você me fodendo desse jeito todo dia. – Harry gritou, arqueando as costas e gozando forte, cravando as unhas curtas na nuca de Louis e amolecendo em seu corpo, babando no ombro do homem enquanto tremia forte e revirava os olhos, o rabo continuando sendo fodido forte, duro e rude, tudo se tornando muito mais do que ele achava suportar. Nem por isso reclamou, se mantendo ali, como um buraquinho para Louis ter seu prazer e finalmente ter sua recompensa, a porra dele bem fundo em seu cuzinho. – Tão bom... – Harry divagou baixinho, fazendo Louis gemer alto por perceber o quão vulnerável Harry estava. – Não tira, goza dentro. – pediu manhoso, gemendo.

- Não vou bebê, Lou vai gozar bem no fundo. – Louis espalmou em tapa na bunda sensível. – Fala pra mim de quem tu é, huh?

- Seu. – Harry gemeu.

- Repete assim, sou a puta burra do Louis.

- Sou a puta burra do Lou. – Harry gemeu. – Só tua.

- Isso, só minha, meu buraco bom de foder. – Louis gemeu alto, pressionando Harry na parede, estocando forte e lento, gozando tudinho dentro do garoto. – Minha.

- Sim. – Harry gemeu baixinho, beijando o pescoço de Louis. – Me leva pra tua casa.

- Tu só vai entrar na minha base se for pra ficar, Harry. – Louis sussurrou, deixando Harry em pé no chão, ambos gemendo baixinho quando o cacete saiu de dentro. – Tu vai ficar? – Louis praticamente engoliu as palavras, guardado o pau pra dentro do shorts e abaixando, pegando a calça de Harry e o ajudando a vestir. Ele pegou a cueca úmida do chão, a colocando no bolso de trás do shorts. – Isso fica de lembrança.

- Quero dormir contigo. – Harry pediu, abraçando a nuca de Louis, as pernas ainda tremendo.

- Tu vai embora de manhã? – Louis perguntou receoso, recebendo uma confirmação lenta. Ele segurou os dois lados das bochechas de Harry, esfregando o dedão nelas. Sorriu triste, selando seus lábios com carinho, esfregando seus lábios e depois suas línguas, aproveitando o beijo quente e cheio de sentimentos sufocados. – Tchau, Styles. – ele se afastou, segurando o nó na garganta quando Harry se agarrou mais forte ao seu corpo. Ele beijou sua testa e sua têmpora, a pontinha do nariz e as duas bochechas. – Nem tenta voltar, Maré tá fechada pra você. Se cuida, playboy. – Louis o afastou, virando de costas e descendo o beco, deixando Harry chorando sozinho para trás.

- Seguinte, tu segue ele e leva pra fora em segurança, se ele perder um fio de cabelo eu desço metendo bala em quem tiver na frente. – Louis avisou Zayn pelo telefone. – Tá ligado mermão, sou rendido nesse playboy.

- Ele não vai dormir contigo hoje? – Zayn riu. – Valeu irmão, maluco vai chegar lá fora tranquilão.

- Ele tá de caô comigo e tu sabe, fecha a favela pra ele. Não quero mais ver ele aqui. – Louis virou a esquina de sua casa, subindo as escadas pra entrar.

- Tá de brincadeira? Tu tirou a coleira mermo, mané? Não boto fé.

- Valeu valeu, cuida dele aí. Qualquer coisa me dá um toque. – Louis desligou, entrando em casa e subindo na laje. Encheu um copo de vodka com energético e debruçou no muro dali, acompanhando Harry descendo a rua principal do morro com o coração em pedaços.

💌

- Eu tava em casa e me ligou no whatsapp querendo ir pro mandela. A mãe dela me odeia o pai quer eu na cadeia e eu quero o coração dela... – Louis cantarolava, a musica tocando na caixinha no último volume. A música parou e ele olhou pra trás, vendo Zayn parado.

- Se eu ouvir essa merda mais uma vez eu te mato.

- Se tu me incomodar de novo eu dou dois tiro no seu joelho. – Louis bufou. – Fala tu.

- Mermão, adianta nada tu fechar a favela pra ele, o maluco fica vindo aqui semana atrás de semana e tu fica aqui, repetindo essa música e todo pra baixo.

- Mané, sou rendido nesse moleque à mais de ano. É óbvio que eu tô na merda.

- Esse é o papo, tu esqueceu da história de vocês dois e e só eu tô lembrado é?

- Porra Z, tá afim de tomar teu rumo não?

- Presta atenção. – Zayn encostou no murinho, pegando a erva já dixavada de cima da mesinha e começando a bolar um fino. – Tu conheceu ele quando tu era um favelado qualquer, era um moleque, zero experiência de vida. Tu tinha sei lá, uns dezessete? Sei lá, não importa muito na real. Mas assim, tu foi lá, se apaixonou, vocês começaram a sair, ele começou a vir aqui todo final de semana e até aula ceis matavam pra ficar grudado. Até que o coroa dele descobriu e assim, Lou, tu pode até se contentar com o papo de que ele não queria o Harry namorando homem, mas tu sabe bem que o seu problema não era um pau no meio das perna e sim ser favelado, pé-rapado, sem um tostão pra comer e uma casa de barro pra cair morto. Tu sabe que nunca foi preconceito do que o Harry é, e sim de onde você veio. Até aí beleza, moleque obedeceu o pai, nem terminou contigo, só sumiu por cinco anos até aparecer aqui de novo. E tu fez o que? Justamente, aceitou ele de volta com um sorriso de orelha à orelha. Acho ruim? Num acho, faria o mesmo? Provavelmente. – ele pausou, lambendo a seda. – Só que o moleque não voltou pra te assumir, voltou porque gosta de você o suficiente pra arriscar que o pai saiba que cola na maré pra transar contigo mas jamais pra levar tu pra casa e te ter do lado. Capaz que ele real te ame, mas não ama o suficiente pra não te usar por uma noite e voltar pra vida superficial que tem, muito menos pra largar as regalia e privilégio de filhinho de papai porque te ama. Então, tu decide terminar e pá, mas fica aqui na laje bebendo e fumando, chorando e vendo foto de vocês no celular. Qual o sentido?

- Todo esse discurso pra que, irmão? Se era pra me fazer sentir mais otário, parabéns, tu conseguiu. – Louis bufou, se afundando na cadeira.

- Hoje tem baile, cê tá ligado. Bora descer, toma uns goró, olha os macho e as mina gostosa, fuma um e relaxa. Tu nem precisa sair comendo geral igual tu normalmente faz, mas pelo menos ouve outra música né, porque puta que pariu que saco parceiro, aguento mais não. – Zayn acendeu o beck, tragando e jogando a fumaça pra cima.

- Beleza. – Louis suspirou. – Pra quem tá com saldo negativo qualquer um centavo já é milagre. – Louis acendeu um cigarro. – Terminando aqui eu desço me arrumar. Valeu, Z.

💌

Louis já estava no baile, encostado na parede, bebendo e rindo com Zayn e Oli, se sentindo melhor. Ele usava uma regata branca, um shorts preto de Tactel e meia na canela. A Glock estava no cós do shorts e da cueca, o relevo por baixo da regata.

- Ow, tu viu que a Sté veio com o Pedrinho? Maluco, olhei e fiquei ca-ra-lho. Tava até ontem botando gaia na coitada. – Oli disse pra Louis, fazendo o homem rir.

- Pedrinho simplesmente não tem a porra de um pouco de vergonha da cara, não sei como a Sté descobre sempre e tem coragem de ficar perdoando. – Louis negou com a cabeça. – Mas o Pedrinho parece que ficou com aquela amiga loira dela? Pois é, diz que deu maior caô.

- Que fofoca eu perdi? – Zayn chegou guardando o telefone no bolso.

- A fofoca que eu perdi né, quem ligou pra tu? – Louis perguntou sorrindo.

- Fita antiga, nada demais. Quero é saber porque o Pedrinho tava com aquela loira lá embaixo, ele não tinha vindo com a Sté?

- Tá de caô! Ele tá com a outra aqui? Caralho, maluco é corajoso. – Oli disse indignado, mas Louis não prestou atenção.

Louis estava olhando fixamente pra frente, vendo Harry andando em sua direção. Parecia que o tempo passava em câmera lenta, Louis analisou cada detalhe do outro. Como o shorts curto rodeava as coxas grossas que ele tanto ama, como a camisa de botão estava aberta até a mariposa tatuada aparecer. Como o colar de pingente de cruz e da banana estavam mais pra baixo do que o usual, como os cabelos encaracolados não tinham sido aparados nessas semanas. Como o sorriso em seu rosto era enorme, como suas mãos estavam no bolso do shorts e ele se decepcionou em não saber quantos anéis ele usava no dia. Ele suspirou quando se lembrou as circunstâncias em que esse encontro estava acontecendo, desejando não ter saído de casa naquele dia.

- Porque ele tá aqui e porque ninguém me ligou? – Louis perguntou pra Zayn, que tinha um sorriso amarelo nos lábios.

- Ligaram pra mim falando que ele tava aí e eu mandei subir. Se eu ouvisse aquela porra de música mais uma vez eu me matava na tua frente. – Zayn riu, dando sinal pra Oli, ambos deixando Louis sozinho.

- Oi. – Harry disse assim que parou na frente de Louis. – Você tá lindo.

- Para. – Louis engoliu em seco, bebendo a cerveja em suas mãos. – O que tu quer?

- Me desculpa. – Harry procurou os olhos de Louis, que grudaram rápido nos seus. – Eu estive sendo um idiota esse tempo todo.

- E descobriu só agora? – Louis riu sem humor. – O que tu quer? Foder e ir embora? Eu avisei que aquela era a última vez, já pode meter o pé.

- Caralho Louis, me escuta! – Harry disse bravo, o interrompendo. – Cacete de menino que não cala a boca. – Ele suspirou. – Eu fui otário com você, beleza? Tô ligado da merda que eu fiz esse tempo todo, sem justificativa, mas eu sempre ia embora porque eu tinha que ir, porque senão meu pai era capaz de mandar operação pra cá todo santo dia. Só que não tinha como eu parar de vir, Louis, porque eu sou incapaz de ficar sem você. Quando eu tô em casa eu passo o dia inteiro pensando em você e a noite inteira acordado porque queria estar no teu abraço, e eu neguei tanto, tanto, o que eu sinto por você, Louis. Eu quero estar contente com que eu tenho, mas eu simplesmente não consigo. Não consigo ser feliz sem você! E sabe como isso é? É um lixo! Eu quis tanto não te amar, quis tanto sumir e nunca mais voltar, mas não dá. Eu te amo tanto que chega a doer, Louis, eu preciso de você! – Harry engoliu o nó na garganta. – Me aceita de volta, Lou. Não posso continuar sem você. – o coração de Harry batia forte no peito, sentindo o gelo no estômago aumentar a cada segundo que eles se olhavam em silêncio.

- Isso é literalmente tudo que eu sempre quis ouvir, sabia? Todo santo dia, desde moleque, tudo que eu queria era te ouvindo dizer que me ama tanto quanto te amo, que precisa de mim igual um drogado porque eu me sinto assim sem você. Mas, isso foi bem tarde. Que garantia eu tenho de que amanhã tu não vai embora antes do café? Que garantia eu tenho de que não vou ter que te esconder e jamais sair contigo aqui nos baile? Que garantia eu tenho que você não vai me usar e me deixar de novo, Harry?

- Se tu precisa que eu não volte pra casa, eu não volto. É literalmente o que tu tinha me dito, dinheiro, diamante e os caralho todo mundo vai me dar. Mas ninguém vai me amar como você, ninguém vai me aceitar como você. Ninguém vai ter meu amor e meu coração como você tem. – Harry limpou uma lágrima solitária com o dedão, se aproximando de Louis. Ele apoiou as mãos no peito de Louis, sentindo o coração dele disparado. Subiu as mãos até sua nuca, olhando em seus olhos antes de selar seus lábios. Ele arrastou a língua pelos lábios trêmulos de Louis, sentindo o gosto amargo da cerveja. O sentiu puxar seu corpo pela cintura, tão juntos que a Glock machucava seu quadril mas ele jamais se importaria. Louis o tomou para si, judiando da cintura delineada e aprofundando o beijo como se fosse a primeira e última vez. – Eu sou teu, Lou. – Harry sussurrou em seus lábios. – Me tira pra dançar, me apresenta pra todo mundo como seu, me beija até a gente não aguentar mais. Mas me deixa saber que você me aceita de volta, fica comigo, briga comigo, namora comigo, me deixa maluco e depois casa comigo. Mas fica. – Harry o abraçou forte, sentindo ele envolver seu corpo num abraço apertado. O fazendo sentir seguro.

- Tô aqui, playboy. Mas se tu vacilar mais uma vez, não tem mais conserto. Beleza? – Perguntou, fazendo carinho nos cabelos de Harry.

- Não vou, amor. Eu prometo. – Harry respondeu, beijando o peito de Louis. – Tava morrendo de saudade de você.

- Eu também. – Louis respondeu sorrindo ladino, aproximando a boca da orelha dele. – Dança pra mim.

- Acho que tu quer outra coisa de mim, gatinho. – Harry riu safado, sentindo Louis beijar seu pescoço.

- Olha. – Louis apoiou um dos pés na parede atrás de si, mantendo a perna flexionada. Girou o copo de Harry, encaixando a bunda macia em cima do seu pau. – Presta atenção. – sussurrou em seu ouvido, olhando a multidão bebendo e dançando, as meninas rebolando a bunda até o chão. – Vê quantas pessoas estão olhando pra gente? – perguntou, adentrando a camisa de Harry com a ponta dos dedos, fazendo carinho na barriga definida, causando arrepios nele. – Eles estão olhando pra você, playboy. Tão olhando pra você igual um pedaço de carne.

- Porque tu tá me falando isso? – Harry engoliu em seco, o maxilar travado.

- Porque eu odeio que olhem o que é meu. – Louis deslizou a mão mais pra cima, beliscando um dos mamilos gostosos entre os dedos, de leve, tirando um suspiro pesado de Harry.

- E o que tu quer que eu faça? – Harry disse afetado, tentando sair dos braços de Louis, sendo impedido pelas mãos possessivas do mesmo que o pressionaram mais contra o pau duro. – Não parece que você odeia tanto assim. - Harry riu malicioso, se divertindo com Louis enciumado.

– Você é meu cachorrinho, Harry. Meu homem, meu buraquinho de foder, minha puta. Só meu. – Louis deslizou os dedos até o cós do shorts minúsculo, encontrando uma renda delicada ao invés de um elástico bruto. – Você veio me ver de calcinha, bebê? – Louis gemeu rouco em seu ouvido.

- Sei que você gosta. – Harry respondeu gemendo baixinho, esfregando a bunda macia contra o pau de Louis. – Ela é tão bonita, Lou. Quero que me foda com ela.

- Como uma boa putinha, não é? Doida pra me agradar. – Louis provocou, sentindo Harry se virar de frente pra si, segurando firme nos cabelos de sua nuca.

- Faço qualquer coisa por você, gatinho. – Harry deslizou a mão livre devagar até chegar no pau duro, o apertando por cima do shorts fino. – Eu sou só seu, amor. Tô maluco pra te sentir dentro de mim. – Choramingou beijando o pescoço dele, sugando a pele quente e suada.

- Você vai, bebê, bem fundo. – Louis sussurrou em seu ouvido, beliscando a carne de sua bunda. – Vamo subir. – propôs, segurando no pulso de Harry com firmeza.

- Sim. – Harry assentiu rápido, deslizando seu punho e encaixando seus dedos nos de Louis, o seguindo enquanto subiam o morro. – Ué. – Harry estranhou quando Louis não virou no beco, caminho que dava acesso a sua casa. – A gente não vai pra sua casa?

- Não. – respondeu. – Vou te levar em um lugar que nunca te levei. – Louis se esgueirou entre duas paredes próximas, trazendo Harry confuso em seu encalço. Ele empurrou a porta do que parecia ser uma casinha de gás, dando acesso à entrada do que parecia ser um grande cômodo. Puxou Harry pra dentro e soltou sua mão somente pra trancar a porta, deixando Harry observar o local quando acendeu a luz.

Pacotes de droga eram dispostos em cima de mesas de madeira, uma delas organizada do que parecia ser o trabalho de dividir pó em saquinhos e pinos da gramatura certa. Um colchão solitário estava jogado no canto, correntes saiam das paredes e Harry percebeu que elas eram chumbadas ali, impossibilitando que quem quer que fosse preso se soltasse.

- Gostou? – Louis perguntou, fazendo Harry se assustar quando foi agarrado pelo quadril, sentindo ele juntar seus corpos, a respiração de Louis em sua nuca.

- Porque me trouxe aqui? – perguntou confuso, sentido as mãos de Louis abrindo os botões de sua camisa.

- Você não achou que seria tão fácil assim me ter de volta, achou? – Louis riu quando percebeu a respiração de Harry se tornando desregulada. – Você me fez sofrer, minha garotinha burra. – Louis tirou a camisa dele, a jogando na mesa mais próxima. – Você não acha que deve sofrer tanto quanto eu?

- Do que você tá falando? – Harry sentiu seu pau fisgando ao sentir o tom de voz de Louis no pé do ouvido, seu coração disparado no peito. – Porque tem correntes aqui?

- As vezes algumas pessoas precisam aprender lições. – Respondeu direto. – Você é uma delas. – Louis girou Harry pelos quadris, olhando nos olhos assustados do outro. – Preciso te lembrar de que é meu, Harry. Te lembrar que depende de mim igual a porra de um drogado. – Louis segurou nas bochechas de Harry com firmeza, apertando-as com uma mão só. – De quem você é, cachorrinho? – olhou nos olhos marejados.

- Seu. – Harry levantou a mão devagar, acariciando a barba de Louis. – Sou completamente seu.

- Acha que merece um castigo?

- Sim. – Harry gemeu baixinho. – Preciso de você, papai. – sussurrou, esfregando uma coxa na outra.

- Eu vou espancar você, filhotinho. O que acha? – Louis apertou a bunda de Harry com força, arrancando um gemido arrastado dele.

- Verde. – Harry disse, gemendo alto quando Louis bateu forte em sua bunda.

- Eu não pedi pra falar sua cor. – Louis riu, espalmando um tapa na bochecha de Harry, voltando a segurar suas bochechas com firmeza e assistindo os olhos arregalados marejarem.

- Desculpa. – Harry soluçou, sentindo pré gozo escorrer de sua glande.

Louis o soltou, se afastando e caminhando até o colchão jogado no chão. Ele pegou as chaves de casa do bolso da bermuda, escolhendo a chave certa e abrindo as algemas das correntes uma por uma. – Vem aqui. – mandou.

- Lou... – Harry disse baixinho. – Eu não quero. – ele abaixou a cabeça, olhando os próprios pés.

- Eu não perguntei se tu quer ou não, Harry. – Louis suspirou. – Mandei vir aqui.

- Lou. – Harry negou com a cabeça.

- Se eu for até aí te buscar vai ser muito pior. – Avisou. – E se me chamar assim de novo eu juro por Deus que faço sua bunda sangrar. – Louis olhava Harry fixamente, o vendo começar a se mover até si devagarinho, com medo. – Me dá sua mão. – pediu assim que Harry parou à sua frente, prendendo-a na corrente içada no teto. – A outra. – repetiu o processo. Assim, Harry tinha ambos os braços levantados e presos, mas os pés ainda ficavam o colchão abaixo de si. – Porque tá com medo? – Louis perguntou, acariciando seu queixo e o levantando, fazendo o garoto olhar para si.

- Vai doer. – Respondeu. – Você nunca me tratou assim, papai. Você sempre foi cuidadoso, gentil.

- E é justamente por isso que você fez o que fez. Se eu tivesse sido duro com você, teria se comportado, não teria sido um garoto burro e mau criado. – Louis respondeu. – Eu já te machuquei além do que você gostou, Harry?

- Não. – Harry negou rápido. – Nunca.

- Então porque não confia em mim? – perguntou.

- Eu confio. Eu só tô com medo. – Segredou.

Louis não respondeu, se abaixou e tirou seus tênis e as meias, subindo as mãos pelas pernas grossas e puxando o shorts para fora do corpo de seu garoto. Ele admirou a calcinha rosa pastel, salivando ao grudar seus olhos no pau dolorosamente duro, a cabecinha brilhando escapando da renda sob a luz fraca e amarelada. Ele raspou os dentes na barriguinha desnuda, quase encostando o queixo no pau duro. Apertou a bunda gostosa com as duas mãos, batendo com força usando as mesmas, apertando a carne entre os dedos e olhando para Harry, o rosto contorcido pela dor. Se levantou, agarrando os cabelos da nuca de Harry e puxando para trás, deixando um tapa rude na bochecha dele. Harry gemeu, apertando as coxas uma na outra, as pernas falhando. – Minha puta. – Sussurrou, abrindo a boca de Harry e cuspindo ali, dando outro tapa firme em sua bochecha já vermelha e assistindo ele revirar os olhos. Louis desceu a mão livre, batendo de novo na bunda que formigava, fazendo Harry se empurrar contra seu corpo. Olhou nos olhos do garoto, esses que estavam arregalados e chorosos, a boquinha aberta prontinha pra gemer seu nome. Ele deslizou a mão e apertou um dos mamilos entre os dedos, puxando e torcendo, deixando vermelhinho enquanto o Harry batia os pés no chão tentando aliviar todas as sensações que sentia.

- Papai, tá doendo. – Choramingou, recendo um tapa leve nas bolas cheias, tentando se soltar das correntes. – Não! Por favor, não. – Soluçou, ouvindo Louis gemer rouco e lhe bater nas bolas novamente, massageando devagar e o fazendo ter alívio.

- Dói muito, bebê? – Louis perguntou soltando os cabelos de sua nuca e trocando pra cintura fina, apertando com possessividade.

- Muito, papai. – Harry assentiu, gritando quando Louis bateu novamente, mais forte dessa vez. – Porra Louis, para! – brigou tentando se afastar, sendo impedido pela mão em sua cintura.

- Fala comigo direito! – Louis gritou consigo, batendo em seu rosto, em sua bunda e nos mamilos sensíveis.

- Me perdoa. – Harry pediu, sentindo o pré gozo escorrer de sua glande e molhar sua barriga mais e mais a cada segundo. – Desculpa, papai, mas tá doendo muito, eu não consigo. – Harry falou com dificuldade, chorando.

- Você consegue sim, amor. – Louis o acalmou, beijando seu pescoço com delicadeza. – Você é meu menino bom, não é? Meu menino obediente.

- Sou. – Harry assentiu rápido. – Eu sou, papai.

- Aparentemente o medo te excita. – Louis dedilhou a virilha de Harry, rindo admirado ao ouvi-lo gemer. – Gosta de sentir medo, bebê? – Harry negou e Louis lhe deu um tapa ardido na coxa. – Não minta pra mim. – repreendeu. – Você gosta de sentir medo, Harry? – Louis apertou suas bolas, vendo Harry assentir devagarinho. – Palavras.

- Sim, papai. – Harry engoliu em seco.

- Você é uma caixinha de surpresas. – Louis tirou a camiseta, tirando a arma da cintura e colocando ao lado do colchão. Ele se virou, puxando uma caixa de papelão debaixo da mesa e pegando um pedaço de fio de energia, o dobrando e esticando. – Sabe, queria estar em casa pra te bater com nossos brinquedos. Mas na falta deles, vou ter que te corrigir de outro jeito. – ele se aproximou de Harry, que começou a negar e tentar se soltar quando viu o fio nas mãos de Louis.

- Não papai, por favor, já foi o suficiente. – chorou, tentando fugir.

- Fala sua palavra, então. – Louis sugeriu, sorrindo ladino para o silêncio de Harry. – Você é uma vagabunda, bebê. – Louis esticou o fio e bateu com ele na coxa de Harry, aproveitando o grito de dor do menino. – Um buraquinho apertado e sem cérebro. – repetiu o processo, batendo na outra coxa. – Chama pelo papai. – gemeu rouco, excitado pra caralho ao ver as marcas fodidamente vermelhas e as lágrimas gordas deslizando pelas bochechas coradas.

- Dói muito. – Harry reclamou, contradizendo a glande babada sujando sua barriga.

- Você merece, amor. – Louis deu a volta por seu corpo, batendo na bunda que engolia a calcinha. A marca do fio avermelhou na hora e Louis assistiu o vergão aparecer, ignorando completamente os gritos de protesto de Harry. Ele se aproximou e bateu com a mão livre na marca, apertando entre os dedos e gemendo. Se afastou novamente, dando outra pancada na nádega ainda branquinha, marcando-a assim como a outra.

- Papai, chega. Eu já aprendi minha lição. – Harry chorava, tentando se afastar da próxima pancada e gemendo abertamente quando ela aconteceu. – Papai, para. – puxou as correntes, atraindo a atenção de Louis.

- O que você acha que já aprendeu? – Louis sussurrou em sua nuca, fazendo carinho nos vergões da bunda de seu menino.

- Que eu fiz o papai sofrer, porque eu fui burra. Eu deveria ter ficado com você, deveria ter cuidado de você, papai. Eu tratei você muito, muito mau. Papai não é um brinquedo, eu que sou. – Harry suspirou, tentando olhar para Louis por cima do ombro.

- Você tá certo. – Louis beijou a nuca suada e esfregou o pau duro como pedra na bunda machucada. Harry gemeu deleitoso, se empinando pra Louis.

- Fode meu cuzinho, papai. – Harry pediu, mas Louis se afastou e lhe deu três pancadas seguidas na bunda e Harry jurou que o fio havia cortado sua carne. Ele gritou, tentando se afastar. – Não! Para! – pediu, recebendo mais e mais pancadas seguidas, o deixando com a única alternativa de chorar compulsivamente e rezar pra não gozar sem ao menos ser tocado.

- Bebê? – Louis o chamou, dando a volta e parando em frente à Harry, que tinha a cabeça baixa e soluçava.

- Oi. – Harry respondeu num fio de voz, olhando pra Louis. – Eu fui bom? Você tá orgulhoso? – perguntou receoso.

- Minha princesa linda. – Louis sussurrou sorrindo ladino, tirando um sorriso imenso de Harry. – Você foi perfeito, bebê. A putinha perfeita, só do papai. – Louis dedilhou sua cintura, expondo sua língua e lambendo o mamilo durinho de Harry, começando a mamar nos peitinhos dele.

- Papai. – Harry gemeu alto, sorrindo e feliz por finalmente estar tendo a atenção que queria. – Tão bom pra mim. – Soluçou, jogando a cabeça pra trás.

- Você é tão bonito, meu amor. – Louis sussurrou, começando a brincar com o outro peitinho. – Cada parte de você me deixa maluco. Seus peitos durinhos, a cintura gostosa. Porra, sua cintura parece que foi feita pra minha mão, princesa. – Louis deslizou uma das mãos até as bolas de Harry, massageando elas por cima da calcinha. - Suas pernas deliciosas, seu pau grande e bonito, sempre duro e babando por mim. – Louis subiu os beijos até o pescoço de Harry, o ouvindo gemer manhoso em seu ouvido, ficando ofegante. – Sua bunda redonda e macia e seu rabo tão gostoso de foder, bebê. Um cuzinho tão apertado, sufoca meu pau, é impossível não gozar bem no fundo dele toda vez, amor. – Louis subiu os dedos devagar, começando a esfregar o dedão na cabecinha do pau completamente duro dele, deslizando fácil por tamanha lubrificação. – Eu sou tão sortudo por ter você, por você ser a minha puta particular, a minha vagabunda, o único que pode me tocar. Todo meu, bonito, venerável, sensível e completamente entregue à mim, como a porra de uma cadela. – Louis sentiu as pernas de Harry tremendo e sorriu, lambendo o lóbulo de sua orelha.

- Papai, eu vou gozar. Eu posso? Por favor. – Harry gemeu, rebolando os quadris e tentando ter mais toques de Louis no seu pau que pulsava.

- Pode, bebê. É sua recompensa. – Louis beijou seu pescoço. – Já parou pra pensar em como eu te marquei hoje, amor? Sua bunda tá completamente roxa, sabia? Toda minha, marcada por mim e só pra mim, sendo a porra do garoto mais lindo que eu já vi. Você é tão bom pra mim, cachorrinho, eu tô maluco pra foder você até você chorar de tesão, do jeitinho que sempre faz. Você quer minha porra, bebê? Hm? Quero tanto ver seu cuzinho aberto todo sujo.

- Papai! – Harry gemeu alto, gozando forte nos dedos de Louis e sentindo suas pernas amolecerem. Louis o segurou firme pela cintura, continuando a esfregar a cabecinha com delicadeza. – Porra, eu te amo. – gemeu, procurando os lábios de Louis que o beijou. Ele deixou Louis coordenar o beijo e se preocupou apenas em gemer em sua boca. – Sabe que eu fico maluco quando tu me elogia desse jeito. – Harry sussurrou.

- Eu também amo você, minha princesa. – Louis sorriu ladino, pegando a chave do bolso e abrindo as algemas, tendo um Harry pendurado em seu pescoço completamente mole. – Agora quem vai gozar sou eu, bebê. – Louis deitou Harry no colchão, empurrando o shorts e a cueca pra baixo.

- Papai vai me usar? – Harry disse mordendo o lábio inferior, olhando o cacete duro de Louis.

- Vou usar sua boca agora, preciso que você consiga andar até em casa. Se eu te foder agora tu não vai conseguir. – Louis punhetou seu pau dolorido, vendo Harry se colocar de joelhos e o olhar com os olhos verdes pidões.

- Goza na minha garganta? Depois a gente vai pra casa e você usa meu cuzinho a noite inteira. Prometo que não vou precisar de preparação, a gente chega e você me abre com seu pau. Por favor, papai, me dá seu leitinho. – Harry implorou, as mãos apertando as coxas de Louis.

- Abre a boca. – Louis mandou, empurrando o pau pra dentro da boca de Harry. – Quero te ver chorando. – Ele empurrou a cabeça de Harry contra sua pelve, agarrou os cabelos da nuca dele com força e passou a puxar e empurrar sua cabeça, usando a boca do menino como um brinquedinho qualquer. Ele sentia Harry apertando sua bunda com força e puxando, um pedido silencioso e permissivo, dizendo silenciosamente o quanto queria Louis inteiro dentro da boca gostosa. Ele sorriu orgulhoso, mantendo a cabecinha bem fundo em sua garganta e usando a mão livre pra apertar seu nariz com o dedão e o indicador, o impedindo de respirar completamente. Admirou os olhos arregalados se enchendo de lágrimas. – Que boca deliciosa, bebê, me mama tão bem. – Ele sentiu a garganta fechar e Harry engasgar, mas apenas juntou saliva em sua boca, deixando-a escorrer até a boca esticada em volta do seu cacete. Ele soltou o nariz de Harry e se afastou devagar, deixando Harry tossir e respirar fundo. – Gostoso pra cacete, cachorrinho. – Louis desceu e subiu mão em seu pau, aproveitando a quantidade excessiva de baba que Harry deixou ali para deslizar com facilidade. – Vem, abre a boca e me faz gozar. – Louis passou o dedo no queixo do menino, gemendo rouco e ficando fissurado na saliva que escorria por todo seu queixo e descia pro pescoço vermelho. Harry beijou a pontinha do dedão de Louis, abrindo a boca a pegando a cabeça inchada entre os lábios, fazendo movimento de sucção, literalmente mamando a cabecinha e olhando Louis gemendo alto seu nome. Desceu os lábios por todo o comprimento, balançando a cabeça pros lados até ter o cacete inteiro dentro da boca de novo. Seus dedos foram até as bolas cheias e babadas, passando a massagear enquanto fodia sua garganta por si mesmo, não se importando com os barulhos de saliva e seus engasgos. Louis segurou firme a nuca e na garganta de Harry, fodendo a garganta com força e sentindo-a se alargando toda vez que a cabecinha a forçava a se abrir, gemendo rouco enquanto gozava toda sua porra dentro da boquinha dele. – Porra, bebê, engole tudo. – Louis sussurrou com a cabeça jogada pra trás, estocando lento e terminando de gozar. Harry soltou o pau de Louis com um barulho de sucção, engolindo tudinho e lambendo os lábios. Louis subiu o shorts e a cueca, guardando o pau sensível. – Você é perfeito. – elogiou levantando Harry e abraçando sua cintura, o beijando firme e sentindo seu gosto na boca quente e inchada. Sentiu Harry se esfregando em seu quadril, percebendo o pau gostoso completamente duro de novo. – Já tá duro de novo pro papai, amor?

- Sim, papai, sempre fico quando você fode minha boca, é tão gostoso. – Harry gemeu baixinho. – Me leva pra casa. – pediu, sentindo ele marcando seu pescoço.

- Vamos vestir você, tá? – Louis se ajoelhou, pegando o shorts jogado no colchão e sentindo Harry se apoiando em seus ombros pra passar os pés. Ele subiu o elástico pelas coxas machucadas, beijando os vergões. Beijou a cabecinha vermelha do pau molhado, mamando e lambendo a barriga, deixando Harry limpinho antes de subir o shorts até o quadril. Harry gemia manhoso, fazendo carinho nos cabelos de Louis por todo o processo, se sentindo cuidado. Louis deu tapinhas leves em sua coxa o incentivando a sentar e assim que o fez -gemendo dolorido pela carne machucada - calçou suas meias e seus tênis, buscando a camisa e o ajudando a vestir, fechando os botões pacientemente. – Minha bonequinha. – Louis elogiou fazendo carinho nos mamilos durinhos contra a camisa, tirando um ofego de Harry.

- Podemos ir rápido? Preciso de você, Lou. – pediu manhoso, recebendo um selar carinhoso.

Louis pegou sua arma antes de saírem do local e atravessaram o beco, indo pro lado oposto e chegando rápido até a casa de Louis. Subiram calmos e Louis trancou cada porta atrás de si, garantindo que ninguém pudesse atrapalhar os dois. Louis o levou até seu quarto e um barulho brusco assustou Harry, que abraçou Louis de imediato.

- É operação, bebê. Relaxa. – Louis afastou a cortina, mostrando a Harry o helicóptero passando e os barulhos de tiro interrompendo a noite silenciosa ali em cima.

- Então é assim? É horrível. – Harry esfregou a bochecha no peito de Louis.

- Sim, é assim. Com sorte acaba logo. – Louis suspirou. – Mas eu sinceramente tô interessado em outra coisa. – ele fechou a cortina, andando com Harry até sua cama e empurrando o garoto nela. – Tira a roupa pra mim, bebê. – Pediu, começando a tirar as próprias.

- Lou, a gente pode morrer? – Perguntou, desabotoando a camisa com as mãos trêmulas.

- Sim e não. Sim, é uma possibilidade mas não, não acontece muito. – Disse dando de ombros, assistindo Harry deslizar o shorts até os tornozelos.

- E você não se importa de me foder agora? – Harry já estava apenas de calcinha e deslizou os dedos pra dentro dela, puxando o pau semi ereto pra fora.

- Nem um pouco. – Louis negou, subindo na cama entre as pernas de Harry, o empurrando até o centro. – Deixa o papai cuidar do garotinho assustado dele. – Provocou , beijando os lábios entre abertos e segurando seu pau junto ao de Harry, punhetando ambos lentamente.

- Papai. – Harry chamou. – Me mama? Seu bebê precisa tanto. – choramingou, tendo Louis abocanhando seus peitos com fome, mordendo, sugando e babando neles. Ele desceu a língua pela barriga arrepiada, deixando um rastro de saliva por ela toda. Deitou entre as pernas de Harry e arredou a calcinha pro lado, lambeu suas bolas, subindo por todo comprimento, engolindo a cabecinha úmida, levando até a garganta devagar, subindo e descendo com calma. – Meu Deus, papai. – Harry gemeu se apoiando nos cotovelos, observando Louis com a boca cheia de seu pau. – Caralho. – Gemeu alto, estocando pra cima em um espasmo. Se assustou, vendo Louis sorrir como podia e assentir. Segurou nos cabelos de Louis inseguro, estocando lento até o fundo, sentindo Louis gemendo em seu pau. Firmou os pés no colchão, estocando forte, fundo e lento, assistindo seu papai revirando os olhos em prazer. Harry ficou insano, passando a foder a boca de Louis lentamente, do jeitinho que gostava, sentindo Louis esfregar o dedo em seu cuzinho todo molhado de saliva. Ele empurrou dois de uma vez, fazendo Harry acelerar os movimentos em sua boca, gritando seu nome.

Louis empurrou mais um dedo, abrindo Harry com três dedos. Sua boca continuava sendo fodida e ele gemia deleitoso a cada dedo que empurrava pra dentro de Harry sem que ele percebesse. Ele já tinha cinco dedos pra dentro do rabo largo quando Harry cansou de estocar e parou ofegante. – Você é uma puta tão usada, bebê. – Louis sussurrou, empurrando até a metade da mão pra dentro de Harry, que gemeu gritado. – Tô abrindo seu rabo com a mão toda, amor. – avisou. – E você nem percebeu.

- Papai. – Harry chamou assustado, levando a mão até sua borda esticada e percebendo que era verdade. – Meu Deus!

- Vou te foder tão bem com a minha mão inteira. – Louis avisou mordendo o lábio inferior, puxando a mão e estocando, empurrando mais. – Que rabo gostoso, bebe.

- Não papai, não faz isso com a sua bonequinha. – Harry segurou firme no pulso de Louis, empurrando a bunda contra a mão dele inconscientemente. Louis sorriu ladino, segurando a quadril de Harry no lugar e puxando o punho pra fora, voltando em pouco mais fundo, ficando alucinado e fascinado, começando a estocar pra dentro de Harry sem se importar com os gritos dele.

- Que boneca boa, toda larga pra mim. - Louis gemeu. – Cabe tanto cacete dentro de você, amor, você é tão gostoso. – Louis tirou a mão de dentro dele, afastando as pernas gostosas e empurrando pra cima, vendo o cuzinho largo contraindo. Ele cuspiu e babou no rabo aberto, lambendo toda sua mão antes de empurrar pra dentro de novo, fodendo Harry, girando o punho e tirando, cuspindo e lambendo a borda esticada, surpreso com a forma que Harry gemia alto e arqueava as costas, as pernas tremendo como se estivesse gozando.

- Papai, eu quero seu pau. Por favor. – Harry chamou e Louis o olhou, o vendo chorando de soluçar e babando excessivamente.

- Papai te machucou? – Louis subiu em cima de seu corpo, sentindo Harry entrelaçar as pernas em seu quadril e agarrar sua nuca, as mãos suadas e quentes completamente possessivas.

- Não, juro que não. – Harry negou, fazendo carinho em sua nuca. – Mas eu não posso mais aguentar, eu preciso sentir o seu pau, papai. – Harry engoliu a saliva. – Eu não aguento mais, por favor, por favor. – delirava, implorando tão desesperado que Louis chegou a sentir pena.

- Está chorando porque precisa do meu pau? – Louis perguntou e Harry assentiu. Louis limpou suas lágrimas, admirando a confusão de sentimentos que Harry se tornou.

- Por favor, papai, eu preciso sentir você. – Pediu começando a chorar mais ainda, cobrindo o rosto com as mãos.

- Shh, tá tudo bem, boneca. – Louis cuspiu em seus dedos e espalhou a saliva em seu pau, guiando a glande pro cuzinho de Harry e empurrando pra dentro sem dificuldade, pressionando seu quadril na borda do outro.

- Obrigado papai, obrigado. – Harry beijou os lábios de Louis repetidas vezes. – Fode, bem forte. – Sussurrou.

Louis segurou na coxa de Harry e começou a estocar forte, fundo e rápido, ouvido Harry chamar seu nome como uma prece. – Por favor Louis, fode, fode sua puta. – pedia com os olhos revirados.

- Tô aqui, filhotinho. – Louis sussurrou em seu ouvido, beijando o pescoço suado. – Papai tá orgulhoso demais de você, sabia? – se afastou, puxando as pernas de Harry para seus ombros e voltando a se inclinar, fodendo usando o peso de seu corpo, maltratando a próstata judiada sem dó.

- Mais papai, mais. – Harry implorou, como se nada fosse o suficiente. Louis se ajeitou nos joelhos e apoiou as mãos ao lado da cabeça dele, começando a ser o mais rude e bruto possível. O pau mal saia de dentro do cuzinho gostoso, fodendo ininterruptamente a próstata inchada. O corpo de Harry chacoalhava conforme era fodido e não havia uma parte de si que não tremia e vibrava em puro prazer. Harry apertou as mãos nos braços de Louis e cravou as unhas na pele quente e suada, arqueando as costas e gritando enquanto gozava por todo seu abdômen, a porra atingindo seu peitoral. Não demorou muito até suas mãos caírem no colchão e seu corpo todo amolecer, desmaiando após o orgasmo completamente arrebatador.

Louis parou de foder seu corpo e passou a beijar todo seu rosto molhado, chamando seu nome e fazendo carinho em sua bochecha. – Meu bebê? Volta pra mim, papai tá tão orgulhoso de você. – disse, vendo Harry dedilhar sua costela devagar, avisando que estava acordado.

- Goza no bebê. – Harry falou arrastado, quase incompreensível.

- Tudo bem, princesa, você já foi perfeito pra mim. – Louis sussurrou, beijando seus lábios com carinho.

- Não. – Ele abriu os olhos como pôde, olhando para Louis com o rosto em desespero. – Goza no seu bebê. – pediu novamente, formando um bico antes dos olhos se encherem de lágrimas.

- Não precisa chorar, meu amor. – Louis o acalmou, esfregando seus narizes. – Não é demais pra você? – verificou.

- Não, quero ser útil. Por favor, me usa até gozar. Eu aguento. – Disse devagar. – Eu sou bom.

- Você é o melhor, amor. Perfeito pra mim, o único que eu quero. - garantiu, se movendo devagarinho. A essa altura o cuzinho já tinha voltado a se fechar em volta do cacete grosso, tornando tudo dolorido pela força que pulsava devido ao orgasmo de Harry. – Você tá tão apertado, bebê. – gemeu no ouvido de Harry, que falava coisas desconexas baixinho. – Eu te abri tanto e você já tá me machucando de tão pequeno. – ele rosnou, sentindo Harry pulsar forte. – Tão bom pro seu papai.

- Cheio. – Harry gemeu. – Cheio do papai.

- Eu vou deixar, bebê, cheio do meu leitinho. – Louis afirmou, fodendo mais rápido.

- Cheio de bebês. Papai vai me encher de filhos. – Harry delirou, gemendo e levando a mão trêmula até o baixo ventre, deixando Louis desacreditando da cena completamente deliciosa.

- Tu quer meus filhos, amor? Quer ficar grávido do papai? – Louis perguntou insano, se perguntando a quanto tempo Harry pensava nisso enquanto ficava cheio de gozo. – Porra, tu quer ser mamãe, amor? Quer ficar com os peitos cheios de leite? – Louis perguntou sentindo as bolas repuxarem, esquecendo da sensibilidade do garoto e estocando com fome.

- Sim papai, cheio. – Harry revirou os olhos gemendo.

- Papai ia amar tanto mamar nos seus peitos, tomar seu leite. – Louis foi quem revirou os olhos dessa vez, imaginando os peitos de Harry vazando leite e a barriga imensa. Se abaixou e sugou um dos mamilos de Harry, fazendo movimento de sucção. – Minha bonequinha. – Louis rosnou gozando fundo, sugando o peito com força. – Toda cheia, cheia de bebês. – ele mamava nos peitos de Harry quando sentiu a mão dele se mexendo, vendo ele estimular o pau duro devagar. – Vem na boca do papai, amor. – pediu, tirando o pau de dentro de Harry e descendo entre suas pernas, chupando a cabeça do pau necessitado com delicadeza, engolindo ele todo mesmo que Harry chorasse por estar sendo superestimulado, Louis o mamou entre protestos até ter a porra rala e quentinha no fundo da sua garganta.

Louis respirou fundo sentindo o cheiro de porra e suor misturado com o hidratante do menino, beijando todo seu corpo com devoção enquanto subia até seu pescoço, o abraçando entre os braços trêmulos. – Eu te amo, te amo tanto. – segredou.

- Eu amo você. – Harry falou baixinho quase inconsciente.

Louis ficou ali abraçando seu menino por alguns minutos, beijando seu pescoço e sentindo seu cheiro em todo o quarto, sentindo seu peito cheio de paz. Se levantou devagar da cama e teve que segurar no colchão até suas pernas conseguirem se firmar, levando Harry no colo até o banheiro. Com completa devoção ele lavou seu rosto sujo de saliva e lágrimas, os cabelos suados, a bunda, o pau e o peitoral sujos de porra. Ele beijava e elogiava Harry a cada pequena reclamação dele, mesmo que soubesse que ele mal de mantinha acordado. Trouxe Harry até o quarto e o sentou em seu colo, secando seu cabelo entre milhões de resmungos. O deixou deitado no sofá até que os lençóis fossem trocados e o deitou já num sono profundo, passando pomada nas feridas que a noite inteira foram feitas. Tomou um banho rápido e deitou ao lado do seu menino, o trazendo pra dormir em seu peito. Não demorou pra que seu corpo desligasse e ele caísse no sono.

O sol vindo da janela cobriu seu corpo com o calor, despertando devagar e se lembrando de cada segundo da noite anterior. Estendeu o braço e procurou Harry na cama, suspirando triste quando a realidade de não encontrá-lo se fez presente. Ele sabia que não deveria ter acreditado mas seria hipócrita se dissesse que se arrependia. Ele não mudaria nada, mesmo que soubesse que o resultado não mudaria. Puxou o travesseiro pra cima da cabeça e grunhiu irritado consigo, assustando quando sentiu os dedos gelados dedilhando sua coluna.

- Bom dia senhor soneca. – A voz calma e bem humorada de Harry soou direto em seu peito, o fazendo sorrir como o grande idiota que era. O travesseiro acima de sua cabeça foi tirado e jogado no chão, ainda de olhos fechados ele sentiu os beijos carinhosos de Harry em sua costa desnuda e o peso dele o abraçando, dando pequenas mordidas em seu ombro. – Acorda. – pediu com a voz inconfundível de quem tinha um bico enorme nos lábios. – Ei. – sua mão dedilhou a barriga de Louis, que começou a rir.

- Bom dia. – Louis sussurrou rouco, abrindo os olhos e vendo Harry sorrindo grande acima de si. Se virou, puxando Harry para cima de seu corpo e o abraçando tranquilo.

- Me solta. – Harry reclamou manhoso. – Para de ser estraga prazeres. – fez cócegas em Louis, que finalmente o soltou.

- O que eu estraguei? – perguntou bocejando, vendo Harry sair da cama.

- Senta. – pediu e Louis o fez, esfregando os olhos.

- Aqui. – Harry colocou uma bandeja de café da manhã em cima de suas pernas.

Olhou, vendo frutas, misto quente, café e num pratinho um escrito totalmente torto, parecendo ser Nutella. “Quer namorar comigo?”

- Você que fez? – Louis perguntou sorrindo ladino, sabendo que tiraria Harry do sério.

- Lou! Responde. – Ele cruzou os braços, mordendo a bochecha e olhando com os olhos verdes pidões.

- Só quando me disser se foi tu que fez. – Brincou, gargalhando quando Harry bufou e esticou os braços ao lado do corpo. – Amo tanto te ver puto. – Confessou, colocando a bandeja de lado e puxando Harry pela mão, o trazendo pra sentar em seu corpo. – É óbvio que sim, bebê. – Disse abraçando sua cintura, beijando seu pescoço. – Achei que depois de ontem a gente se casaria de uma vez. – Brincou, assistindo Harry ficar vermelho.

- Louis. – Harry repreendeu, escondendo o rosto com as duas mãos.

- O que foi? – Louis riu, puxando suas mãos pra baixo. – Porque tá com vergonha?

- Só lembrei das coisas hoje de manhã. – Riu envergonhado. – Não vou listar as coisas, mas tipo sua mão inteira e gravidez. – Ele encostou a cabeça no peito de Louis. – Desculpa.

- Para com isso, amor. Eu amei cada segundo. – Louis segurou firme em suas coxas e o puxou pra sentar bem em cima de seu pau. – Fiquei maluco quando tu pediu meus filhos, sabia? Tu ficou tão lindo com minha mão dentro de você, também. – Louis enroscou os dedos no elástico da cueca que Harry usava.

- Louis William. Café da manhã. – Harry bateu em seu ombro, o fazendo erguer os braços e parar de toca-lo. –

- Parei. – Louis riu. – Então tu finalmente é meu namorado, Harry Styles? O filho perfeito do prefeito namorando o dono da Maré? Quem diria.

- Não dá pra negar, Lou. Vai ser surpreendente pra todo mundo, mas eu sempre senti que eu ia parar aqui contigo de qualquer jeito. – Harry sorriu selando seus lábios com carinho. – Sempre fui teu.

- Pra todo mundo? – Perguntou surpreso, procurando nos olhos de Harry um rastro de mentira. – Sem segredo? Sem mudar nada?

- Sim. Não quero que tu mude nada, foi desse jeito que eu me apaixonei por você. Sem largar nada por mim, sem me esconder, sem nada, sem segredo. – Harry sorriu. – Sem ir embora no meio da noite ou quando nasce o sol.

- Vai ficar? – Louis perguntou fazendo carinho em sua costas.

- Só quando tiver espaço pra todas minhas roupas. – Implicou. – Tô brincando. – riu beijando a pontinha de seu nariz.

- Vou mandar construir um quarto só pra tuas roupa. – Louis sorriu.

- Tenho certeza que sim. - Harry riu, beijando os lábios de Louis com carinho.

#larry fanfiction #harrystyles #louistomlinson #larrie #oneshot

441 notes · View notes

darlingdesire · 1 year

Text

LIKE A TATTOO

Y/N really loves Harry’s tattoos.

Y/N loved the way Harry’s tattoos looked on his skin. They were like little pieces of art, each one telling a story or holding a special meaning. But what she loved even more was tracing the lines of each tattoo with her fingers, feeling the ink on his skin and the ridges of the designs.

It was a habit she had developed early on in their relationship, and one that Harry had grown to love. They would often lay in bed together, tangled up in the sheets, and Y/N would trace the lines of his tattoos while they talked about their day or whispered sweet nothings to each other.

As they drifted off to sleep, Y/N would often continue tracing the tattoos, her touch becoming softer and more gentle as she grew more and more relaxed. Harry would wrap his arms around her, pulling her closer to him, and they would both drift off into a peaceful slumber, feeling the warmth and comfort of each other's love.

Usually, Harry would close his eyes and let out a contented sigh, feeling the warmth of Y/N's touch on his skin. He loved the way she traced the lines so delicately, like she was afraid to smudge the ink or damage the design. He loved the way her fingers felt against his skin, soft and gentle yet confident in their movements.

Sometimes Y/N would inspect the tattoos more closely, asking Harry about the meanings behind each one. He would tell her stories about the time he got them or what they represented to him. It was a way for them to get to know each other even better, and for Y/N to understand the parts of Harry’s past that he had immortalized on his skin.

Other times, Y/N would trace the tattoos out of boredom or absentmindedness. But even then, Harry didn't mind. He would just lay there and watch her, feeling the love and affection radiating off of her. It was a comforting feeling, knowing that she loved him enough to memorize every little bit of him, even the fine lines of his tattoos that were unnoticeable from the faraway eye.

Y/N was lying on the bed next to Harry, her head resting on his chest as she traced the lines of one of his tattoos with her finger. She looked up at him with a curious expression.

"Did this one hurt when you got it?" she asked, gesturing to the tattoo she was inspecting.

Harry smiled down at her, his fingers delicately playing with her soft hair. "Not too bad," he said. "But it was definitely one of the longer sessions."

Y/N smiled back at him. "Which one hurt the most?" she asked.

Harry thought for a moment before answering. "Probably the one on my chest," he said. "It felt like the needle was going right through to my heart."

Y/N winced in sympathy. "That sounds painful," she said.

"It was," Harry replied. "But it was worth it. All of my tattoos are reminders of something important to me."

Y/N nodded and continued to trace the tattoo on his arm. Harry watched her with a fond expression, admiring the way her eyes studied each line and curve of his tattoo. "I've always wondered what it would feel like to get a tattoo there," she said.

Harry chuckled. "It's not for everyone," he said. "But I love it."

"I can tell," Y/N said, her eyes still focused on the tattoo. "You have so many."

Harry smiled. "Yeah, I do," he said. "But each one has its own story. They're like little pieces of me that I carry around with me."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes softening. "I love that about you," she said. "You're so... unique."

Harry gazed down at her, his eyes filled with adoration. "And you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he said, his hand cupping her cheek.

"I love the way you look at my tattoos," he said softly. "It's like you're seeing a part of me that no one else can truly see."

Y/N smiled and looked up at him. "That's because I love every part of you," she said, her voice filled with tenderness, “I especially love your tattoos," Y/N said softly.

Harry grinned, his eyes sparkling. "I know you do," he said. "You always find new ones to admire."

Y/N grinned, continuing to trace the lines of his tattoos. "As you said; they’re like little works of art," she said. "And they all have a story."

Hary nodded, his fingers playing with Y/N's hair. "Yeah, each one has a special meaning to me," he said. "They're like a visual representation of who I am."

Y/N snuggled closer to Harry, feeling his warmth surround her. "I love getting to know more about you," she said. "And your tattoos are like little clues that help me do that."

Harry smiled down at her, his eyes filled with affection. "You're the only person who can read me like a book," he said.

Y/N blushed, feeling a rush of love for Harry. She traced the lines of his tattoos once more before resting her head back on his chest. They lay there in comfortable silence, the only sound the steady beat of Harry’s heart.

With a contented sigh, Y/N closed her eyes and let herself relax into him, feeling safe and content in his arms, all while gently skimming her finger over the delicate lines that created her name which were marked into Harry’s soft skin in black ink.

626 notes · View notes

pleasingforharry · 9 months

Note

I know it was headcannon but you should definitely explore y/n’s anxiety (panic attacks) more and how Harry learns to help her through them and how it makes him feel to have caused her to have one, idk I just have them too so it really made me feel seen

Of course! Let's do it.

college!harry x quiet!yn

Her hands leaked with sweat, so she rolled them down the fabric of her jeans. Her body was beaming hot, but also shivering from some unbeknownst cold. Her teeth bled into her lips. But after the wince of pain from her strength, she let them go with a puffed breath.

Fuck.

Y/N hated this. She hated when this happened. And as much as she wanted to curl into a ball in her boyfriend's arms, she couldn't. She shouldn't. She wouldn't. Especially because she didn't want him to know. Especially because she was embarrassed when it happened. Especially because she didn't want to be a disturbance. Especially because she didn't want to annoy him, to bother him, to anger him.

Especially because he was the reason she was feeling this way.

"Okay, I'm done with this. I'm leaving," Harry growled, storming for the door of Y/N's dorm. "I can't do this, right now."

"Fine then, fucking leave. Go!" Y/N barked back, but feeling the opposite up in her head. Wait no, don't leave. Stay!

"What do you think I'm doing?" Harry snapped at her over his shoulder. His steps were long, making their argument short.

"Being a stubborn asshole, is what you're doing." Y/N couldn't control the words that trickled out her mouth.

She was a whole different person when she was upset. And she'd pay for the consequences later.

"Me?" Harry scoffed, spinning around to face his girlfriend. "You're the one who's being stubborn."

"Don't fucking put this on me! This whole argument started because of you," Y/N shot back, her finger sharply pointing at him.

Harry wanted to explode. He needed to let his anger out, but not around Y/N. As much as he wanted her to see how upset she was making him, the best way for them to cool off is for them to have their space. To let everything out, but separately.

"Yeah, right. It's always me, huh?" He cocked his head to the side. "I didn't do shit. Don't—“

"Harry, are you for real? You literally—“

"I what? I was voicing my opinion? Yeah, that's exactly what the fuck I was doing!" Harry stopped her. "You're the one who made this bigger than it had to be."

"Me? Oh, classic. Blame me," Y/N laughed, falling back down on her couch. She was steaming out of her ears.

Harry fisted his hands and turned away again. "Yeah, I'm out. Fuck this, we're done."

We're done.

What?

Y/N didn't have time to ask him to elaborate before he was out the door and slamming it behind him. The girl was alone, her eyes widened and her body fell numb. Everything was blurring.

We're done? What does he mean by that?

Y/N shot up from her spot and planned to run after him, but something inside her froze. Her legs suddenly gave out, causing her hands to meet the floor. The beating of her heart sprinted from the sound of the gunshot starting the race.

"Wha—“ she gasped as her breath got caught in her throat. Her arms felt weak and began to shake as they tried to keep her up.

Y/N knew what was happening, and it was not what she needed right now. This wasn't the first time she experienced a panic attack, and it definitely wasn't going to be the last.

We're done.

Y/N fell back on her butt to sit down. That's when her body started to heave and the sweating/shivering began. Her hands quivered as they ran through her hair. She wanted to cover her mouth to silence her heavy breathing, not wanting to disturb anyone in the halls.

"Fuck, Y/N, calm... calm," she whispered to herself, shutting her eyes tightly. She gripped the couch beside her and squeezed the cushion. Her mouth and nose worked together to pace her breathing, but it was no use. She couldn't calm down.

Fuck. She needed the one person she couldn't call for help.

Y/N fluttered her eyes open and searched her room. "Plants," she sighed. "There’s… uh a desk chair. Plants, desk—uh… desk chair. Fuck." Her head was dizzy, and she couldn't focus on identifying another object. It was a method to help her push through her panic attack.

She tried again. "Plants, desk chair, uh... picture." It was a framed picture hanging on the wall of her and Harry at one of his soccer games. The team won and even though it was a simple game, as soon as the referee blew the whistle to finalize the score, Harry ran to his girlfriend on the team's bench.

He hauled her into his arms and hugged her. It was short and sweet because he knew eyes would be on them from Harry being a popular player on campus. And as much as he wanted them to see him love on his girlfriend, her tinted pink cheeks told him to wait until they were alone.

Y/N stared at the picture, trying to focus on remembering the feeling in the moment. But it didn't exactly help as she realized what happened minutes earlier between her and her boyfriend.

The girl fell back against the couch and let her eyes fall closed. Nothing was helping, so she simply accepted the panic. The rushed heart, the irregular temperature surging though her body, her chapped lips letting out stinging breaths.

Everything hurt.

"Baby, look at me. Open your eyes." Y/N thought her mind was trying to imagine her boyfriend with her, hoping it would help her panic attack. "Y/N, baby. Come on, let me see you." She felt feathery touches on her cheek and her thigh.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as her lids flicked up. She somehow gasped through her panicked breathing as she was met with a worried Harry. He was bent by her side, eyes wildly examining her.

He smiled when she looked at him. "Hey, there you go. Okay, can you sit up for me? Can you do that, baby?" Y/N stared blankly, letting out rasping breaths, but followed instructions.

Harry helped her sit up before he swiftly slithered behind her, him now leaning back against the couch. He tucked Y/N's shaking body against him and sighed.

"Alright, I got you. I always got you, babygirl," He found her ear to whisper in. Y/N's hand couldn't decide where to land as she was scared to touch him. And Harry noticed with a sad frown. "It's okay, you're okay." He slowly met his palms with hers before lacing their fingers together. Their intertwined hands wrapped around Y/N's front, holding her tightly.

"I'm—I can't... I'm trying... I can't—“ Y/N heaved out.

"Just breath, Y/N. Match me, okay?" Harry told her before slowing his breathing to a calming pace. Y/N nodding rapidly and attempted to copy him. "Good girl, baby."

Harry felt horrible, listening to his girlfriend struggle like that. But he's glad his Y/N instincts told him to turn back around and find her. He didn't expect to see her in that state, but all he knew was that he was going to get her out.

"Better," he whispered. "You're doing good, I'm so proud of you." Y/N was finally able to sigh, but not her racing heart. "Do you think you can do me a favor?"

"Wh-what?" Y/N hiccuped.

"Think you help me choose what we're gonna eat for lunch? I'm getting hungry? What should we have?"

Y/N bit her lip again as she thought about it. Harry rocked them slowly, giving her time to focus on his task.

"Um... P-pizza?" She said as a question. Harry hummed, at both her answer and slower breathing. "No pepperoni."

"Yeah, we don't like that, huh?" Harry chuckled against her ear, and she shook her head. "But I don't know. Will that fill us up? What else could we have?"

Y/N didn't realize she had relaxed her tense muscles and calmly fell into her boyfriend's chest.

"We.. we-we liked the pasta at uh... that place next to the pet shop," Y/N said.

"Yeah, I forgot what I got. Do you remember?"

"Mhm," she nodded. "You got angel hair Alfredo. But then it was actually spicy, and your tongue was on fire." Y/N laughed softly. Harry smiled so wide and let it press against the back of her head.

"Good girl, that's right. We had to switch our plates and I had yours, right? You loved mine."

Y/N realized how hard she was squeezing Harry's hand, so she let them go. But Harry immediately grabbed them and laced them together.

"I just want to hold you, baby. Is that okay? Is this too much?" He asked her.

"No."

"Good, I love holding you. You make me so happy, Y/N," Harry whispered to her. "But you know what will make me happier?"

Y/N wiggled in her spot. "What?"

"Your smile."

She blinked, growing shy. Harry chuckled and assisted her to turn to her side. He finally saw her face, softly guiding her chin to face him.

Y/N looked at her boyfriend, only him noticing that she was back. Her body was calm and warm, and safe in his arms.

She sniffled quietly. "What did you mean when you said we're done? Like done done?"

Harry's eyes widened, before shutting as he cursed.

"No, baby. Not at all," he kissed her cheek. "Never, you can't get rid of me. Sorry."

Y/N chuckled, rolling her lips inward.

"I meant, we're done arguing. I hate when we do and I left so we could get some space to cool down, you know?" Harry explained while plucking her lip free. Y/N sighed at his words with a nod.

"Oh okay."

"And I'm sorry for putting you through that. It's my fault," his voice turned soft. "I never want my baby to feel that way. You're too special to me." Y/N smiled, it growing wider.

Harry leaned forward to grasp her lips with his. Their kiss was soft and slow, exactly how he wanted her breathing to be. And she was back. And safe.

"I love you, baby. So so, fucking much," Harry said against their lips. He lifted his girlfriend up so she could turn to face him completely and straddle him. "I'm sorry. Next time, we cool off together. Okay?"

Y/N nodded and kissed him. "Okay. And I love you too."

Harry smiled drunk-like. Dimples. "I can't believe I get to hear you say that to me." Y/N laughed quietly, before wrapping her arms around him and hiding in his neck.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles x yn #harry styles imagine #harrystyles #college!harry #harry styles blurb #college!harry x quiet!yn #harry styles oneshot #harry styles angst

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eveningepiphany · 1 year

Text

learn to knock | H.S

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summary: not knocking on your door has led to harry walking in on you… with your hand between your legs.

warnings: f and m receiving hand job, some nipple play, a lot dirty talk, mix of praise and degradation to represent their love hate relationship.

a/n: literal filth I’m sorry I have nothing to say for myself.

———

It was mid-afternoon and you were laying in bed, scrolling and enjoying your rest day from your usual hectic schedule.

Nothing in particular had led you to start doing what you were doing. Just the random urge. And future you will be thanking you for that.

One hand was placed between your legs and the other pushed over your mouth. Short snippets of fantasies flowing in and out of your mind— nothing certain— just little things, words and ghosts of touches. Pleasure was building in your stomach from the fast circles you were rubbing onto your clit, and it was hardly long until you’d be biting into the palm of your hand and riding out your orgasm.

That was until the door to your room flew open.

Your legs flew shut around your hand as a mutual gasp was shared.

I mean, you knew it was Harry, not only because he’s the only other person you live with, but more going by the no knock on the door, barge the fuck into your room for whatever reason he initially was coming in here for.

But whatever he’d come to ask you had obviously died in his throat at the sight. The sheets were half pulled over you, outlining your now clamped-together legs and the arm tucked between them.

No getting out of this one.

“You need to learn how to fucking knock.” You hissed immediately at him, whole face flaming as you pulled the twisted sheets to fully cover your upper half.

“What the fuck— it’s like 1 o’clock in the afternoon I didn’t think you’d be jerking off!” He immediately jumps to defend himself, pushing a hand through his long hair.

“What am I not allowed to?” You sigh, slipping your hand from your clit, laying it on your stomach.

“Not what I’m saying. Just was caught off guard”

You stare at eachother, and despite the embarrassment that naturally should come when you get caught touching yourself, your eyes are eating up his tall figure and stern face. A voice in the back of your brain wondering how good he could make you feel.

He’s not blind to the way you’re looking at him, hunger laced deep into your eyes, and it’s unmistakably for him.

“What, need some visual stimulation to get yourself going again?” He deadpans at your completely obvious act of checking him out.

You roll over, face pushed into you pillows, your cunt aching to be touched again, “Can you shut up, Harry?”

He walks over to the side of your bed, “sorry love, didn’t hear you, say it again for me?”

It was a challenge the way he said it, even so much bordering on a warning— but god you couldn’t find it in you to care. He can expect you to go polite all he wants, but he knows very well from living with you that is not what he’ll get. And maybe that’s how he wants it to go.

You push your body to face him, “Shut up. That is what I said.”

His cock has hardened in his jeans, and desire is starting to take the wheel on his actions.

His hand comes up to your chin, “Don’t stop on my account darling. I can even help you out if you want.”

His voice is like honey, but both of you know the intent behind that is yet again a challenge. To see how far you’ll take it.

“I was doing just fine before you barged in here.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“But I bet you’d love to get your hand between my legs.” You cave in, slipping your hand back down, sighing at the contact of your fingers to your clit.

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” He sits on the edge of your bed, watching the silhouette of your hand under the sheets.

“Already know you do, can see how hard you are from here.” You tease.

“Well are you gonna do something about it?” He raises his brows.

“No. I’m just gonna keep doing what I’m doing. You deal with it yourself.” You glare, pushing a finger into your entrance, and you realise you’re almost dripping now.

This entire situation is hot. You cant deny it, and neither can he.

He palms over himself, the tightness of his jeans making him almost ache. You’re staring at him with that fucking defiant look on your face and he just wants to kiss it off.

So he does just that, leaning down to capture your lips with his. He holds your chin, humming in the back of his throat as you open your mouth for his tongue to slip in.

He unbuttons his pants with his free hand, shucking them off his long legs, leaving him in just black briefs.

Your fingers are still pumping in and out of yourself as his tongue maps out your mouth.

He reaches into his briefs, quickly pulling back, “this ok?”

“Yes.” You replied without a second thought, watching as he slips himself out.

His cock flicks up to hit his stomach, hard as a rock.

You try not to let the shock show on you face as you see it, it’s large. Of course it fucking is. It’s pretty too. The head is same flushed pink as his lips, with neatly trimmed hairs at the base.

His hands are twitching to pump himself, and you clock it like a hawk.

“Go on, touch yourself.” You prompt.

“Pull down the sheets.” He states, “then I will.”

“Need the visual stimulation?” You laugh, waiting for him to smile a little at the tease.

“Mmhm, wanna see you fucking yourself.”

You push them down, exposing you panties that had been impulsively pushed to the side, and your hand thrusting slowly in and out of you.

“Fuck sake…” he curses at the sight, palm moving to wrap around himself— squeezing.

You both watch each other for a minute, taking in the movements and little noises that were being sounded.

You were the first one to breach the gap, reaching over to stroke your thumb over his tip and have his head thrown back.

“Thought it was a hands to ourselves policy.” He moans.

“Decided I want you to make me come.” You boldly state, sitting up and pulling him closer to you.

“‘Course you do, knew y’would cave. See you looking at my hands all the time, know you want them in y’cunt, needy little slut.” He says, voice gravely and making you clench around your fingers.

“Whatever, you probably want my mouth around your dick just as much.” You kiss his neck, biting the skin there.

“Bet you’d love a bit of throat fucking.” He grabs the tank top you were wearing and pulls it over your head.

“No fucking bra either. Jesus Christ.” He takes a breast into his hand, tweaking the nipple between his fingers which has you struggling to hold back a moan.

His hand has finally slides down to your cunt, pushing your own out of the way to take over.

You follow suit, wrapping your hand— fingers still damp from your own arousal— and stroke over his cock.

You’re both panting, it feeling so unbelievably good to be touching each other like this. His fingers flicking over your clit and yours squeezing his cock.

“Your fucking soaked, bloody dripping all over y’sheets.” He curses, rubbing his fingers through your slit.

“Well you practically edged me by coming into my room when I was about to come.” You griped.

“Oh yea, I bet you can totally make yourself drip like this. Don’t lie love, it’s from me. You probably weren’t half as wet before I came in.” He was hardly wrong, but he doesn’t need to hear you confirm that.

“You’d love to hear me- fuck- say that. Tell you I’m soaked ‘cause of you. Egotistical son of a bitch.” He pushed a finger into you, sliding all the way in, the chunky ring around the base of his middle finger hitting your entrance.

“Such a fucking brat you are, have quite the mouth on you, yknow that?” You squeezed around him, already feeling like you could come.

“I do. Bet you just wanna fuck it quiet.” You said, sounding a bit out of breath. Still trying to keep up, stroking his cock faster.

“Hardly could be considered a punishment since you’d enjoy it so much.”

His hands were speeding up at your words, one moving to play with your clit while the other fucked your entrance, slipping in another long finger.

It made you tingle, “Fuck— Harry!”

He hummed, “There we go, good girl. Finally have you moaning f’me.”

It was hard to figure out if you loved or hated how good his hand felt. Well, mentally you weren’t sure, physically though you were pushing into every movement he made.

Your hand had stuttered from stroking him, so you quickly made to move it again, to outdo him. You tightened your grip on him, stroking faster— swiping over the beading precome on his tip.

“Jesus, trying to make it a competition darling…” he grunted

Everything with you was always a competition, and especially this. Your hand kept pumping him, hearing his moans fueled you to keep going— to keep pushing him closer to the edge. He wants this as much as you do, and even though he would never admit it with his pretty pink lips, it’s true.

“Bet you want to make a mess all over my hands.” You whispered into the shell of his ear, licking a stripe along it.

“Maybe I do, darling. Maybe I wanna wreck your pussy too.”

You whimpered at the thought, rolling your hips with his fingers curling inside you.

“Ohh.” He coos, “listen to you now, whining for me, acting like such an angel. Trying to be a good girl now I’ve put that on the table.”

“You’re not though, are you? You’re a slut.” He speeds up his fingers, and your jaw is going lax.

You can’t even feel your hand, let alone keep moving it on his cock— the only sensation you have is the burning one in the pit of your stomach.

“Please, please.” You beg.

You’re teetering on the edge of bliss when his hand pulls away. You cry out, clenching your legs together, squirming at the empty feeling.

“I hate you, hate you so much,” you whine, “please, let me come.”

He doesn’t listen, “Open your mouth.”

You part you lips instantly, despite wanting to punch him in the stomach.

He puts the fingers covered in your arousal onto your tongue, “Show me you can be a good girl and suck.”

You oblige, not without the frown on your face though.

“Taste yourself?” He asks, and you nod around his fingers— his eyes darkening a little at the sight.

He slides them from your lips, “get on my lap.”

“Stop being so pushy.” You snap, frowning at him.

He chuckles, “acting like you aren’t into me bossing you around.”

Another moment where he couldn’t be more correct, but you are not going to admit it out loud.

You slide onto his thigh, and he sighs out a breath, taking a short moment to slip his tshirt over his head.

“You’re so wet, baby. Feels s’nice.” The mix of praise and degrading has your head spinning, it’s such a jump from one to the other. And fuck is it hot.

You rub yourself on his warm skin, “lay between my legs, actually, wanna make sure you can see my fingers fucking you.”

He doesn’t give you time to move yourself, he just pulls you there— cock resting on your bare back.

He strips your panties off you, moving to gently tease your clit. Your legs part wide for him.

“You gonna be a good little slut now?”

You stare at him, biting your lip to keep the moans from slipping out.

“Keep your attitude in check for me baby? Reckon you can do that?”

When you still say nothing, his finger rubs down your slit to trace around your dripping hole.

“Can make you feel so good, love. I’ll have your little pussy clenching so hard around my fingers if you just be good.”

“Fine.” You say breathlessly, hating having to submit to him like this.

He hums, rewarding your reluctant agreement with his finger filling you up again.

Suddenly, your pride was worth the feeling.

“Fuck!” You moan as he pushes another one in.

He isn’t messing around now, he fucks your hole with fast strokes, the palm of his hand rubbing against your clit perfectly.

“Taking it so well, letting me fuck your pussy with my fingers.” He praises into your ear, his other hand sliding up to play gently with your breast.

“Harry— oh god.” You cry, squirming in his grip. You were ready to snap after being edged twice.

“That’s right, darling, watch my fingers fuck your cunt.”

His filthy words being uttered are enough to have you coming alone, paired with the euphoric feeling of his fingers in you has you a mess.

“I’m— holy shit I’m gonna come. Please!” You beg, worried he was going to pull away.

“Tell me you hate me.” He says, grabbing your chin— making you look down at his movements between your legs.

“I hate you! Please, H.”

Your peak held for that blissful, breathless moment. Expecting to be deprived of that final push for your orgasm.

“Come for me, Y/N.” He’d said, and you cried out— a tidal wave of pleasure hitting you.

You were clenching so tight around his fingers, spots coating your vision as he didn’t let up his pace.

He fucked you through your orgasm, “can imagine how good my cock would feel getting squeezed by your pussy.”

You were pushing his hand away, once the pleasure ebbed and you couldn’t handle his fingers anymore. Panting as you laid your head back into the crook of his neck, eyes meeting his.

“Look at you, all beautiful and fucked out.”

You blinked slowly, brain scrambling for a witty comeback.

“I hate you.” Was still all you could say.

Your hand nonetheless found it’s way to his cock, pressing hard into your back.

“Don’t have to if you’re tired, babe.” He smiles, gently holding your wrist.

You shake your head, “you made me feel so good, can’t leave you high and dry.”

Your hand wraps around his head, immediately stroking down— causing him to moan.

He was definitely vocal, and god did you find that hot.

You picked up the pace of your strokes, fully turning your body to watch his reactions, and how his stomach muscles rippled with pleasure.

“Are you gonna come on my hand, Harry?” You cooed, squeezing him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He cursed, bucking his hips up into your warm palm.

He was clenching his jaw as you rubbed him rhythmically, quickly coming undone with your movements.

“Darling— god—“ He groaned, hands threading through your hair and pulling at the roots.

“Mmm, you’re so gorgeous.” You hummed, placing a kiss onto his lips as he was shaking with the pre-pleasure of his release.

It didn’t take much more to have his stomach muscles contracting under you, a moaned curse falling from his lips as white ropes of his come spurted out his tip, painting your fist and his chest.

His muscles all relax, and he slumps onto the bed, and you join him, flopping down.

“God, you’re so…” he sighs out, sentence trailing off.

You trace his tattoos with your pointer finger, “Hate you. Hate how pretty you are, H.”

He smiles, eyes half-lidded, “Hate you just as much, love.”

“We can clean up soon. Just wanna lay for a bit.” You whisper.

“Whatever you want, darling.”

———

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