#one direction one shot
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We Fight, We Make Up
Summary: Harry gets turned on when you yell at him.
Requested: Nope
POV: 2nd
Word count: 3.4k
Warning(s): Unprotected sex, slight degradation, slight spanking
The argument happened before the night even started. You didn't even wanna go. You wanted to stay in the hotel with your husband. Alone. Without having to share him with anyone else. Recently, you have been missing him. Yes, you see him every day and fall asleep with him every night; but you felt like you had to share him with the entire world. When he wasn't on stage in front of his thousands of fans, he was either at the gym or working with his team, writing new songs, and talking about new plans.
Tonight was one of his rare nights off and of course, he and his team wanted to go out. He wanted you to go with him and you did, but you were grumpy from the moment he brought it up to the moment you're at with him now.
You were arguing while you got ready. Harry didn't understand where you were coming from. You were on tour with him. You were with him every day, went everywhere that he went, and got to sleep next to him every night. He thought you were being a bit needy and selfish. He didn't say that to you of course, but he definitely voiced that he thought you were being irrational.
Once you had met everyone in the hotel lobby, you both put on your brave faces, not wanting to draw any attention to your problems. You tried to forget about your current struggles and have fun while you could. Neither of you drank that much. You just were not in the mood and Harry had a show the next day. It was only occasional that he would drink while on tour, but never when he had a show the next day.
Once the night was over, the argument continued.
"Y/N, baby, I dunno what you want me to do. We're on tour, this is my work. I can't spend every second with you."
"Oh my god, Harry. You know I'm not asking you to spend every second with me. I just want some alone time with you. I told you I feel like I have to share you with everyone and never get any time just you and me."
"But we do get alone time. We got a whole room to ourselves. I give you a cuddle while we fall asleep every night. Why is that not enough?"
"It's not about being enough. It's about me feeling like you're not prioritizing me or wanting to spend any time with me."
"This is the first tour that you've been able to come with me for every show. This is what it's like. I don't get alone time. This is my job. I can't just drop it all to spend time with you."
You were starting to get angry, "You don't work every hour of the day! Tonight - I told you beforehand that I didn't wanna go and I wanted to stay here with you but you wanted to go out instead."
"Well, yeah because I've got a night off and wanted to have fun with everyone."
"Exactly! Everyone. You didn't wanna spend time with me. You spend time with them every fucking day and the one day you have off you choose to be with them."
"Y/N, you-" he started before you cut him off, your voice raising in frustration, "Harry, you're my fucking husband! I shouldn't have to beg you to spend time with just me!"
All of a sudden, a cheeky, slightly evil smirk arose on his lips and his eyes scanned your body up and down. It was very rare that you got angry when you argue with him, you usually just get really sad. Your disagreements are usually quiet and filled with tears. It was your least favorite thing to do. You hated having serious conversations with Harry and couldn't help but cry when they happened. Harry was a sympathetic cryer so when you cried, he cried. In the 10 years that you and Harry have been together, you only yelled at him in an argument probably 4 times. So, he found this moment quite amusing.
"Why the fuck are you laughing?"
"I'm not," he chuckled looking up at your angry eyes.
He kept that smirk on his lips as he stared at you deeply, your blood beginning to boil as a breathy giggle left his lips.
"Oh my god, I'm so sick of this," you snapped, turning around and getting ready to storm into the bathroom.
"Y/N, stop."
He was quick to grab your arm, pulling him into you and wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you from running from him. Placing both hands on his hips, you glared up at him, "What?"
He didn't reply, his eyes bore into yours while he was pushing your hips against his, jutting his out to show you exactly what he was feeling. You could feel his tight bulge straining in his slacks against your pelvis and you could not believe what was happening.
"You're hard?" you replied as your lips mindlessly curved up in amusement, "Why?"
"Dunno, you rarely yell at me when we argue. It's kinda sexy," he replied, his voice slow and deep.
"What?" You were the one laughing now, "You're not supposed to get turned on. You're supposed to get pissed at me."
"I am pissed at you. But you're fuckin' cute when you get angry." He looked you up and down once more before adding, "Might be this outfit too."
"Oh my gosh, I wanna be mad at you so bad because of this but I'm really amused."
"Are we about to have angry sex?"
You didn't even answer him. You immediately pulled him down by the back of his neck and attacked his lips with yours. He kissed you back, moving in sync with you. His tongue caressed your lips, tasting you as you backed him up against the edge of the bed. The backs of his knees hit the mattress and he immediately sat down, pulling you with him. Pulling your dress up past your hips so you could spread your legs, you straddled his lap. His hands immediately went to your ass, cupping and squeezing it.
You continued to kiss him, making out like you were teenagers. Your kisses were fast and sloppy, your panties dampening as you ground your hips against his center. You ran your fingers through his dark hair, tugging at the soft strands gently. You felt your clit throbbing in anticipation and you knew you couldn't wait too long before he filled you up.
Your hands frantically slid down his body, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. You had been so upset with him, you had overlooked how good he looked tonight. He wore a white button-up, only having the bottom two buttons tied together to show off his tanned, tattooed chest. He paired it with a pair of black slack pants and white loafers that he had slipped off the moment you got back to your room. He had his famous cross and phallic banana necklaces on and had rings lined on almost every one of his fingers.
You slid his top off of his shoulders and tossed it carelessly onto the floor. His glistening skin and dark tattoos were now on full display for you. You ran your fingernails across his body, feeling every inch of his torso that you could reach. You continued to grind your center against his, circling your hips so his bulge rubbed perfectly against your clothed clit.
"I want you so bad," he breathed out and you hummed against his lips in agreement.
His fingertips grabbed onto the hem of your silky dress and pulled it up over your head, tossing it with his shirt. Your lips only parted to pull the dress off, immediately attaching again once you were exposed to him. His hands reached behind your back and unclasped your strapless bra with ease, letting it fall onto your lap. After grabbing it and tossing it, his hands cupped both breasts and kneaded them harshly.
His kisses trailed down your jaw to your neck, kissing, nipping, and sucking at all your sweet spots. You let your head fall to the side to give him more access and hummed in satisfaction. His lips trailed even further down until they latched onto your right breast. He sucked at your nipple, hand still kneading your left one. Flicking his tongue back and forth against your bud, your back arched into him. Nibbling on it, you whimpered and he pulled away, giving your other breast the same amount of attention.
Returning back to your lips, he tugged on the band of your panties, acknowledging that he wanted them off. You stood up in between his legs and pulled your panties down your legs, letting them pool at your feet. While you did that, he unbuttoned the button on his pants, lifted his hips, pushed them down his thighs, and pulled them off his legs.
Both of you were now completely naked and exposed to each other. You straddled his lap again and he reached down between your bodies, sliding his fingers between your folds to feel your wetness. He groaned softly as his middle finger and ring finger slipped past your opening with ease. You mimicked his moan when his fingers began to move in and out of you, the coldness of his peace ring and his pearl ring sending chills up your spine.
"Jesus, Y/N, I'm so fuckin' horny right now," he groaned desperately.
"I need you inside me," you whimpered into his ear, equally as desperate, "right now, Harry, please."
"C'mere," he hummed.
Pulling his fingers out of you, he wrapped his arms around you and stood up. Turning around, he laid you down on the sheets with your hips at the edge of the bed while standing in between your spread legs. He grasped onto both of your ankles and hooked them around his shoulders. Wrapping his right palm around his member, he wasted no time and immediately positioned his swollen tip at your entrance, sliding in while he hovered over you. You both let out moans at the euphoric feeling of him filling you up. He stilled inside of you, allowing you a minute to adjust to his size. His forehead rested against yours and he grunted softly when he felt you clench around him.
Leaning back up, he grabbed onto each of your thighs to ground you. Not holding anything back, he began thrusting in and out of you at a fast pace. He knew your body like the back of his hand. Knew every single one of your sweet spots and every single movement that made you putty in his hands.
His thighs slapped against yours and your breasts bobbed with each hard thrust of his hips. Your orgasm was quickly starting to grow closer and you found yourself clenching around him each time his tip brushed up against your good spot. Your face contorted with pleasure and you tightly gripped the sheets below you.
"Oh fuck," you whimpered softly, "Harry, yes!"
"Is this what you wanted?" he grunted in between stagged breaths, "Just wanted me to fuck you like this?"
His fingertips dug into the skin of your thighs, most likely leaving marks for you to complain about the next morning. The bed squeaked under you and you knew the backs of your thighs were quickly turning bright red with the repetitive slapping. It was purely a pornographic scene and you were in complete and utter bliss.
"Answer me."
"Yes, yes," you chanted, "I needed this so bad. Needed you, Harry."
Lifting your head slightly, you looked down and watched as he disappeared in and out of you. He was slick with you, sparkling against the light in the room. You could physically hear how wet you are for him. His movements intensify that sound with each thrust. You let your head fall back down to the bed and look up at him. He's looking down between your bodies, watching what you were just watching. His eyebrows were furrowed together and his jaw hung slack as he breathed irregularly.
You watched as his muscles clenched with each thrust, a sheen layer of sweat beginning to form on his skin, glittering his tattoos. You let your eyes squeeze shut as the pleasure grew. You felt his left hand leave your thigh and immediately grasp onto your breast, squeezing it and allowing his thumb and pointer finger to pinch at your nipples.
Without warning, he wrapped his hands around your sides and flipped you over so you were on your belly. He tapped your hip gently, acknowledging you to sit up. Resting your elbows on the sheets to support your body, you stuck your ass up in the air for him, leaning back and pressing into him. He positioned at your entrance again and started back up where he had left off.
The sound of his skin slapping and your wetness continued to echo loudly throughout the room and if he wasn't making you feel so damn good right now, you would be worried about people outside the room hearing.
"Talk to me. This is exactly what you fuckin' wanted so tell me how good I'm making you feel."
"No," you whimpered, trying to get a rise out of him, "you don't love me anymore."
"Say that one more time and I'll spank you 'till you cry," he grunted.
You grinned at his words. You knew he wouldn't actually spank you until you cried, but you wanted to challenge him, "I'm not wrong."
His hand swatted at the fullest part of your ass and you squealed at the slight sting, his rings he never took off intensifying that sting. He never spanked you super hard, just enough to get you to straighten up when you were being sassy with him.
"Wanna try me again?"
"You never give me attention anymore."
Another spank landed across your ass and you moaned, his hand massaging the area to soothe the sting, "You're such a brat. You're asking for it now, aren't you?"
After one more smack against your skin, he grunted and his thrusts came to an abrupt stop. You were about to protest but then felt his big hands collecting your hair. He switched all of it to one hand, holding it up into a ponytail. He tugged on it, pulling your head back so that he could easily lean down to nip at your ear lobe and you couldn't help the moan that left your lips. Using his free hand, he grabbed onto your hip again and began thrusting.
"Want me all to yourself all the fuckin' time, huh?" he growled into your ear, sending shivers up your spine.
"You're mine," you moaned, "Don't like sharing you."
"Fuckin' selfish is what you are," he grunted in your ear, "Can't get enough of me, huh?"
You moaned in response, breath hitching in your throat before he continued, "Got people wanting my attention left and right and you only want me for yourself. I can see why though, with how good I make you feel. Not once have I ever failed to have you fuckin' trembling under me, babe."
"You're such a fucking narcissist," you grunted, words coming out strangled.
He chuckled deeply, biting on the shell of your ear, "It's the sole reason why you married me, innit? 'cause of how easy I can get you to scream my name?"
"Fuck off," you groaned and he chuckled again, loving how he got to you.
"Got the sexiest girl in the world to be my wife. How can I not be narcissistic?"
"Mmm," you whimpered, ignoring him, "Want more."
"More? Am I not giving you enough right now?"
"No, gimme more."
"Greedy, greedy girl. You're my greedy girl though, that right?"
You hummed in agreement as he let go of your hair, your head immediately hanging low. With both hands now on your hips, fingertips gripping your skin tightly, he changed his rhythm. Fast and hard. Exactly what you wanted right now.
"I'll give you whatever you want. Got me wrapped around your little finger."
"Obviously not, or else we wouldn't be in this situation right now," you grunted in sync with the smack of his hips against yours.
"Still mad at me, huh?"
"Just shut up and make me cum," you groaned.
You heard him chuckle behind you as he kept his rhythm, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm by the second. His thighs smacked against yours and the sound echoed throughout your hotel room. Your breath was hitched in your throat, your face contorted with pleasure and your jaw slack as moans occasionally escaped when your hitched breath allowed.
He got so deep inside you, hitting your special spot just underneath where your clit was located with each thrust of his powerful hips. His fingers were gripping your hips tightly, nails carving crescent moon shapes within your skin. Your clenched around him and you could feel every inch of him moving against your walls.
"Oh, Harry," you whimpered into the sheets and Harry's heart swelled as he noticed how much you needed this. How much you needed him.
With the length of his thrusts shortening and pace only slowing down slightly, he leaned down and pressed his back against yours, cupping your waist to pull him into you.
"Haven't been giving you the attention you deserve, have I, baby?" he grunted into your ear, words in sync with his thrusts.
"Mm mm," you whimpered, his lips against the shell of your ear making you shiver.
"Been neglecting my favorite person in the world. My beautiful wife, fuck, I love you so much."
You couldn't even reply. Your voice wouldn't let you, the only thing you could get out was moans of pure pleasure by not only him inside of you, but also him finally giving you exactly what he wanted. His hands slid up your torso and gripped your breasts, squeezing them as his thumbs flicked over your nipples. You could tell he was close by the way his member twitched inside of you, his strangled moans, and the feeling of his face contorting against your back.
"Need you to cum, baby." he breathed out, "I can't cum if you don't cum first."
"I need-" you began and it was like he read your mind, fingers heading straight for your throbbing clit and rubbing it side to side vigorously, causing you to breathe out, "Yeah."
It didn't take much longer before your body became numb with pleasure. You were trembling, screaming into the sheets beneath you, knuckles turning white with how hard you were gripping the covers. Harry continued his movements to carry you through your orgasm, causing it to pulse through you in waves, euphoria completely clouding your mind.
You came down from your high with heavy breaths, the continued stimulation from his thrusts sending a new wave of pleasure over you. When it became too much, you whimpered and he pulled out, groaning painfully, "Where do you want me?"
"My back," you breathed out.
You laid down on your stomach and moved all your hair to your front, while he continued to pump himself to keep his orgasm from falling. Once you were in position, he pressed one knee to the bed to angle himself above you. It was only seconds before you felt the warm feeling of him painting your back with his creamy release, your jaw falling slack. Moans of pleasure fell from his lips as he worked himself through his orgasm, pleasure consuming his body just as it did you only seconds earlier.
Once he had milked the last of his orgasm, he immediately got up to grab a few tissues to clean you off.
"You okay, babe?" he asked while wiping the tissue across your skin.
"Mhm," you hummed in response, ready to just fall asleep in his arms.
Throwing away the soiled tissue, he stated, "All done."
You turned over onto your side and he laid down next to you, pulling you into him, breathing out, "Didn't lie when I said I always get you trembling under me, huh?"
You rolled your eyes teasingly at him, "You're so annoying."
"I love you. You know that, right?"
"I know. We still need to talk though. The problem didn't just go away 'cause you're good in bed."
He chuckled deeply, "Can we talk tomorrow? Just wanna hold you right now."
"Yeah, lemme go to the bathroom then we can go to bed," you replied as you got out of bed and made your way to the bathroom.
"Love you, sexy," he teased, landing a soft smack across the curve of your ass as you got up.
You giggled, "I love you too."
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Reaper 13
This is SUPER LONG and dirty but enjoyyy it for as long as it lasts hehe.
Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writing
Warnings- possessive behavior, aggression, threats, mention of murder, stalking, illegal acts we do not Condone, knife play, impact play (slapping x spanking), daddy kink if you squint, breeding kink mention, degradation, dom/sub dynamic, dumbification if you squint, choking, bondage w belt, hair pulling.... you get the gist everything is filthy as per usual
WC- 11.3k
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Tourist attractions really weren’t Harry’s thing, especially in his own city. He thought it was all a bit underwhelming, he’d rather look at a photo and be over it. He never thought he’d ever step foot in the Victoria and Albert Museum, Kensington was no place for someone like him. Yet there he was, watching his own work of art, Bunny, read the plaques by each painting.
The way her eyes lit up this morning when he told her they’d do whatever she wanted, he didn’t have it in himself to say no. So he let her drag him along to all the sites, even going as far as taking photos with her. If she were anyone else, he would tell her to stuff it- but that smile made it worth every moment of internal suffering.
“I’m getting hungry,” Bunny whispered to him, wanting to be respectful of the environment. Her arm had snaked its way under his, her hand curling around his bicep for comfort.
Harry chuckled when he felt her squeeze at the muscle, mindlessly going to place a kiss on the top of her head. The mindless affection had become more and more common. “You okay to head back towards the hotel? The options around here are a bit shit.” Harry continued in a hushed tone, guiding the two of them towards the stairs to begin exiting. “Plus, there are a bunch of pubs back that way… can get you some of that authentic food to try.”
“Authentic food?” She raised a brow. “You mean beans on toast? Egg in the hole?” There was teasing in her tone, a giant grin on her face as he looked down at her. She was taunting him, but it was good to see her really fucking smile after these last few weeks.
A scoff sounded from his throat, eyes rolling as they continued. “Lucky you’re cute. Or I’d toss your ass into the Thames, and that is particularly unpleasant.” He retorted, lightly pinching her side to make her squeak.
“Oi! Precious cargo here.” Her hip bumped into his as they walked, looking at her fake wedding ring. Although it wasn’t real, seeing it and what it represented made her stomach flutter. Would that be a possibility? Would he ever actually propose? What ring would he actually choose? He’d probably do it somewhere very private and secret, just the two of them. Shaking herself out of that thought, she continued. “What I was saying was, yes. I’m happy to head back. Your arm must be tired from holding all of my stuff.”
It wasn’t too bad. A few bags with the very tacky and overpriced London swag, things he knew she would probably stick on a shelf and not use- but part of him felt some sort of happiness that she liked it enough to buy souvenirs. “S’fine, darling. Snow globes and tee shirts and magnets are surprisingly lightweight.”
“Right, so you don’t mind if I drag us into the gift shop?” Bunny teased and squeezed his arm, tripping over her feet a bit as she leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek.
Harry had never thought he’d experience this type of relationship. It almost felt juvenile with how they clung to one another and got shy at each other's teasing ocassionally. It felt so out of character for him, but then again, it came naturally with her. He thought, if his life had been different, that maybe that’s how he was meant to be.
“Thought you said you were hungry?”
———
Pubs were a quintessential part of the British experience. You could go just about anywhere in the UK and there would always be a pub to welcome you in. Sure, the decor was a bit outdated, but Harry always thought it made them more charming. No two pubs were exactly alike. Some had different stools.
“What do you fancy? Fish and chips? Bangers and Mash? Gonna take you for a roast at the weekend.” Harry’s speech had already adjusted, his accent thicker than she’d ever heard it before. It made Bunny smile fondly, she’d never seen him in a mood like this and she was cherishing every second.
“Fancy, huh? You’re sounding incredibly British today, Mr.Davidson.” She winked, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and looping them as they settled at the end of the bar. The mood was just so good today, and she was relishing it.
“Fancy, yes. Like I fancy you.” His voice was quiet, a tiny smirk on the corner of his lips as she felt her heart stutter in her chest. His hands came to hold her hips, cuffing them with his cool skin and making her shiver. Her outfit wasn’t particularly thick- which was why she had stopped to buy the coat she’d hung up when they walked in. If someone stole it, oh well. It was pretty cheap.
“You do?” She peered at him through her lashes, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Gonna make me blush. Look at you, flirty man.” Harry had been exceptionally affectionate today and it had almost taken her off guard. Like he could finally let go a bit and give her the proper boyfriend treatment, loved treatment, whatever it was called. It made her all fuzzy and hot in her stomach.
“Good. Like making y’shy.” He tugged at the ends of her hair. “Soon as a table opens up we can sit down and properly eat.” But he didn’t mind standing here. He soaked in every second of her leaning into him, playing like a proper couple on a ‘honeymoon’. He liked the feeling of the ring on that finger.
Bunny nodded along, letting her eyes wander around the dimly lit space. The place wasn’t too packed, though as the clouds drew in it seemed everyone was looking for shelter.
“Y/N? No fucking way.” A familiar voice interrupted Bunny from her train of thought. Her head snapped in the direction the voice was coming from, swallowing thickly. Fuck. Not here- not now.
“Ian?” She hadn’t seen him in years, not since he moved away for college. She had been so devastated back then. Sterling’s departure had taken a toll on her and well, Ian wasn’t man enough to tell her he too would be leaving her.
“Are you stalking me?” He joked, taking a step towards her. It seemed as though he hadn’t noticed just who she was there with.
Harry was quick to place himself between them.
Who the fuck is this? And why the fuck did he know Bunny? His jaw clenched so hard he was surprised his teeth didn’t crack, feeling fingers gently pressing against his arm as he looked down at the shorter man.
Was this some sort of sick joke?
“Who the fuck are you?” His words were cold, his molten relaxed nature from before cooling quickly before shattering like glass on the pavement. His eyes were sharp and hard as he looked down, feeling her peek over his arm and try and move closer but he extended it to keep her behind him.
Whoever the fuck this Ian was, he was in London. A place where she knew no one. The world couldn’t possibly be that small, and he was on edge all over again. “Are you following her?”
Oh god. Bunny stepped forward, clutching Harry’s arm in her grasp to try and chill him out. It looked bad, it definitely looked bad and she could understand his irritation, but-
“H, it’s okay-“
“No. It isn’t.” His harsh tone stung his own ears as he approached further, eyes zeroed in on him. “I’ll ask again, How the fuck did you find her here?”
“Find her?” Ian looked like he had seen a ghost. He had remembered Reaper, very very well. How could he forget all the times he’d come over and he’d be outside working on his bike? The death stare he gave was enough to have him rushing inside without turning back. He was aware of the reputation Reaper held, to say Ian was scared was an understatement.
“Dude, I swear I wasn’t trying to make any moves, just surprised she’s here— I live here man.” Ian was in a rush to finish his sentences, attempting to clear the lump forming his throat.
“Baby, you know that, remember? I was dating him before Sterling left.” Bunny peeped up from behind him, her heart beating out of her chest. The last thing she needed was for Harry to cause a scene when they were trying to lay low. While the coincidence was shocking, she knew full well Ian was too stupid to pull off what her stalker was pulling.
“Where?” Harry barked, preparing to grill the man for all he was worth. If he couldn’t tell him a way a Londoner would understand, he was worried he would do his head in right here on the bar. His stomach had already been turning at the mere mention of him dating her before, but the thought of being face to face with someone who could possibly be part of this ongoing torture of his girl? He was seething.
“Canary Wharf, a few stops on the DLR. I’m not giving you my address, sicko.”
“Sicko?” He laughed without humor. “I’m not the one following girls around. How’d you know she’d be here?” He took a step closer, the hair on the back of his neck prickled as he tried to scan the man’s face for any hint of lying.
He was scared shitless, as he should be, but Harry was thrown right back into the paranoia that he usually felt back home. The hesitation and distrust of anyone who got around her. How perfect would it be for her obsessive ex to be the one following her around?
“I didn’t! I swear I didn’t, bro. I’m just as surprised as she is- t-tell him, Y/N. Please!” He was backing up slightly as Harry took another step forward, making her grab his arm and try and tug him back.
“H- Hey.” She gently dragged her fingers down his arm. “Please. It’s okay. He’s been here for a while, he left a while back. I didn’t know where he was moving to.” Trying to diffuse the situation was unnerving. She’d seen Harry get like this a few times, but she didn’t want to make a scene here. “Look at me, please. He’s not the person you think.” Meaning her stalker. She could see the cogs turning in his mind, the nervousness from how he worked his jaw, how his other hand had slipped behind him to have a hand on his gun if he needed it. They couldn’t afford to have that happen in such a public place, but it was well known that Harry, when he was Reaper mindset, didn’t care. He would take out a threat and deal with the consequences. As much as it warmed her that he was that dedicated to her safety, it wasn’t any good if he went down for taking out the wrong guy.
“Babe.” Her stern tone cut through the tension, her hand moving to squeeze over his hand tightly. This couldn’t happen. Bunny’s heart was beating out of her chest, looking between the two of them as she tried to figure out what her next move was. “Ian, you remember Harry yeah?” She began, her fingers rubbing gentle circles over the wedding band on her boyfriend’s hand. It would be hard to explain it to Ian, so she figured it was best to keep them hidden. “He brought me here to London to show me around, we’ve been together for a while now so it felt like a good time to see where he came from.”
Harry was still sizing Ian up, chest heaving slightly. Focusing on the sound of Bunny’s voice, he could still hear the faint sound of blood pumping in his ears. This guy was harmless, she had ruled him out but Harry’s brain was still on high alert.
“Anyways, we were just leaving,” Harry interjected, no longer wishing to be in this idiot's presence. He needed to be back in a safe space with his Bunny.
“We don’t have to-“
“I just remembered our reservation. Let’s go.” The tone of his voice had taken her off guard, unfamiliar with the sweet one he usually held specifically for her, but she would let it go despite how it stung under her skin. He was wound up and nervous, and he had just had a scare in the one place he had seemed to key his guard down. She had to remember that. He had just been knocked over, metaphorically speaking.
“You don’t have to run off,” Ian said with a laugh, feeling a bit bolder and wanting to reclaim that stupid masculinity he had felt was stripped of him from the interaction. “I’m not going to try and steal her-“
Before he could finish, his shirt was fisted in Harry’s hand, his body whipped around and pressed to the bar as the cocky look on his face faded to fear. His eyes were dark and cold, though the anger was simmering under the surface of his skin.
“You can’t have her. She isn’t an item to be stolen. I’ve heard about your puny cock and the lack of care you’ve given my girl. Bold of you to assume she’s mentioned more than her dissatisfaction over you.” He did indeed remember this dickhead. It made him want to drag him to the back alley and use the silencer on his gun to take him out. But he was in public. So threats would have to do. “If you breathe a word of her being here, if you try to contact her, if you even look at her again tonight, I will end you. Make your life a living hell, and end it with your body sunk in the Thames.” His words were quiet, but so matter of fact that Bunny’s eyes widened. The pub noises would filter out anyone else hearing, but she could.
“I know the people from the deepest depths of the underground here. One fucking call and I’ll have your entire flat ruined, your bank account drained, and your body strung up in an abandoned building before they dispose of you. So heed this warning very, very carefully.” He got closer. “You’ll stay here, order a pint, and forget that this night and my woman has ever existed. If I hear a word of this breathed out -and I will- I’ll make good on my phone call.” Eyes traced him in disgust. “And you won’t make very good fish food, either.”
Finally, he dropped the guy and pulled Bunny with him, trying to be mindful of how hard he pulled so her shorter legs wouldn’t make her fall. But he was livid. Angry, his face blank and nostrils flared as he grits his teeth.
She decided to stay silent, following him and wrapping her arm around his, their connected fingers an anchor for the both of them. “I’m sorry.” Her voice peeped, looking up at him. “I-didn’t know he would be there. I swear I haven’t known anything since he moved.”
He froze. Why was she apologizing?
Harry could hear the sound of his teeth grinding, though it seemed he felt no pain. His focus was purely on getting her back to the hotel as safely and quietly as possible. Stupid fucking idiot had to choose this pub of all pubs in London to walk into and ruin the perfect end to the day for his perfect girl.
“S’ fine, Bun.” Harry tried his best to reassure her, though his breathing was still heavy and his mind was still racing. He was on high alert as he guided the two of them through the busy crowd of Leicester Square, no one paid much attention to them there. Only one more turn and they’d be safe in the street right by their hotel.
Bunny wasn’t sure what she was expecting as they entered the hotel and made their way up. She chose to stay quiet, her arms wiggling their way around his waist as her head rested against his chest in an attempt to soothe them both. His heart was pounding, though his muscles were noticeably less tense than they had been at the pub.
She didn’t think she’d be able to eat much now, her main concern was tending to Harry. It’d been a good while since he’d snapped back into his protective state, they’d worked so hard to get him to actually relax on this trip. She had been worried it was all for nothing.
“Talk to me.” She murmured as they entered the safety of their room, the sound of Harry double-checking the locks behind them had her eyes squeezing shut. She wished he didn’t have to go through this. If only they didn’t go to that pub.
His throat bobbed as he scanned the room again, only broken out of the trance when her hands gently grabbed his face, cradling his jaw. All she did was gentle. She treated him with a softness no one else ever had, one that he had never even thought of himself being able to have.
There was a moment he stood without a word, looking down at him as he tried to gather himself. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her or make her feel neglected like he had the time before, but it was really fucking hard to do that. His body was taught, tense and he held back tremors of both rage and fear. It was a false alarm, sure, but he had felt all the feelings he imagined surfacing from finding the son of a bitch stalker. His uneven breathing filled the room as she continued to try and soothe him, her soft and concerned gaze killing him. How the fuck was she being so good with him even after what he had done? How he had shut down?
“I was terrified.” He admitted into the silence of the room. “That it was him. I’m still not convinced he isn’t involved. I was letting myself get too relaxed. You’re in danger.” He stressed, head tilting back as he ran his hands over his face. There was obvious regret and self anger in his tone, breaking her heart just a bit more. “I was selfish for not letting my head be on a swivel. I could never forgive myself if I let you get hurt. Ever.” Hs hands peeled off his cheeks so he could look at her, the seriousness of his words bleeding through.
“I promised to protect you. Not only to your father, to your brother- but to myself. This whole thing, you and I? It isn't just sex to me, Bunny. You’re- you’re mine. In every fucking sense of the word. The one person that means anything to me and if I fuck up because I want to- I want to be selfish and just let go? I’d die. If you hurt, I hurt. I can’t ever let it happen.” He felt the intensity in his stomach rise, the feelings he had been trying to keep in check boiling over in the pot. Frothing over the edges, he couldn’t stop himself from falling for her, no matter how many times he had stirred and tried to keep the overflow at bay.
“You mean the most to me. I’ve never cared this much about a person. I felt so much rage… not only at him but at myself. I’m so angry.” He growled. “He looked at you. He touched your arm. How much fucking clearer does it have to be?” Slowly backing her up, Bunny trusting him as her back bumped against the door and her head tipped up to look up at him. Her angry knight. So passionate about protecting her. “Do I have to get you a sign to tell people you’re mine? That I’m yours and I will rip their hearts from their chest, I will slice off any finger that touches you?” His eyes blazed, Harry’s discomfort obvious. He meant every word. AS gruesome as he could be, she hadn’t seen the whole of it yet. This girl got to see the good parts of him and he was convinced that she would be the only one they were reserved for.
Bunny’s eyes searched his, trying to find some kind of sign. Sure, his emotions were on high, but he meant each word he was saying. She could feel it— never once did his words falter, his gaze never leaving hers as his fingertips delicately began to push her jacket off of her shoulders.
“Say something.” Harry breathed, his eyes too scanning hers in an attempt to anchor himself in the moment. When he was with her nothing else mattered, he didn’t have to be anyone he wasn’t. With her he was free. “I mean every word—“
“I know.” Bunny’s voice had been so quiet she wasn’t even sure if he heard it. The words she had wanted to say were hiding just under her breath, if only she felt brave she would tell him. Profess that she loved him and that she trusted him more than anyone else in this world. “I keep thinking,” She started, her sentence interrupted by the thump of her jacket falling on the floor. “You’re the only one I’d want to be here with. The only one I want…” Her words trailed off with a soft moan. God, she was sick.
Cold fingertips dragged up along her arm, Harry’s other hand finding the warmth of her lower back just under her top. He really couldn’t help himself, she was the only thing that could get him to relax.
His stomach heated with a different sort of passion. A flick of a candle, a switch of a blade, a single moan. Her soft body melted into his own as her eyes bore into his own, that calming energy sinking into his skin and melding into arousal that he couldn’t help. She was aroused by this?
Yes. She was. The woman was affected by his words, by his protective nature. Even as deprived and awful, inhumane as his version of justice could be perceived as, she was excited by it. Flattered. His face got closer to hers, bracing with his arm against the door.
“I mean it.” His words were a shaky exhale. “I mean every fucking word.” His hands slipped further under the fabric, her hot skin melting his icy interiors yet again. “Anyone touches you… anyone even thinks about stroking this perfect skin… tasting your mouth…. Harming a single hair on your head. I’d end them.” He pressed closer, fingers finding the nape of her neck. “I’d kill for you, baby. D’you know that?” Harry doubted that she would ever actually know the full extent of what he would do for her. How close she had him to being on his knees at her wish.
She nodded, their noses brushing together. Harry smiled, not a normal one but what she could consider almost feral. Hot. Her thighs trembled as she couldn’t recall anyone else who had been able to gain such a reaction from her body. Their interactions were always something she felt fully, but his intensity was ringing in her ears, throbbing through her body. There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt that he would.
“I almost did tonight. I meant every word. And I’ll do the same back in Vegas. I’ll find who is tracking you… I’ll send them to meet Hades myself. And then… then I’m going to take you on a proper vacation. I’m going to take you to a beach and fuck you on the sand, I’m going to fuck you on my bike, I’m going to do everything you deserve. I know I don’t deserve you. But I’m a selfish son of a bitch, Bunny. I’m mean, I fight, I do illegal shit, I’ve got blood on my hands and targets on my back, but I’m keeping you anyway.” Their breathing mingled as he tried to control himself but it was slipping.
His lips pressed against hers hard, feeling her fists on his shirt to pull him closer. It was no use.
“I will burn the entire fucking city down to make sure you’re safe. I’ve never been afraid of anything. Death, fire, pain. But I’m fucking terrified of losing you.”
Time stood still as the two of them stood barely a step into their hotel room. Harry cradled her with his arm, unable to get enough of his skin on her own. Her shivers only drove him all the more insane, he was hypnotized by the feeling she brought him, the comfort of her existence was something he felt himself continuously getting drunk on. He didn’t want to stop himself, he couldn’t. Not when every moment felt like it could be their very last.
“I’m not going anywhere, Harry. I’ll always find you.” Bunny knew there was very little could do, but on the off chance that this fucker managed to find her she would leave as many clues for Harry as she possibly could. No way would she let some monster get in the way of this beautiful blossoming relationship. “Even if it hurts me.” She whispered, eyes flickering down to his lips. She was hungry to taste them again, it was the perfect remedy for the comedown of shock. What if she wanted it to hurt?
“Please let go just for tonight… just take me how you want to.” She would do just about anything to get him back to a relaxed state again. This feral look on his face awakened something in her, he’d previously mentioned he’d been holding back. There was something about the dark breathy chuckle he let out that had her mind reeling. “I’m serious.” Bunny felt her heart rate picking up as he toyed with the delicate skin of her neck. “Please.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking.” He whispered, trying to keep that curated delicacy he had reserved for her at hand- but failing. Failing miserably.
“I do.” She whispered back, arching into him. “You’re upset. You want to prove that I’m yours?” There was danger in taunting him. The girl knew that. But she wanted him to break down, to give in to those urges again. The last time had been so, so good. She could still feel the slight ache but she wanted more. Greedy. She was so incredibly greedy for every lick and drop of affection, his real self she could get. Her hand reached for his, pulling it towards the front of her throat to collar it.
“Fuck me, Harry. Own me. Use my body, mark me, make everyone know.” She bleated, eyes wide for him. “Please?” Her lips pressed against his. “Please, please, please. Just for tonight- make me ache. You know my limits. Push them.”
“Baby, I don’t want to hurt you.” Harry breathed through his nose, trying so hard not to give in to her even though she was offering herself up on a silver platter. The feeling of his hand around her throat was something that’d felt natural, her kiss tempting him even more. She knew just how to get him to succumb to her desires but there was still that bit of fear.
Sure, the other night they dabbled into the territory. A few good slaps, her slipping into subspace. This, however, was a whole other beast. Harry could be truly sadistic, relentless in the way he fucked women. While his girl had proven to be the perfect slut for him, he still worried that he would lose himself. There would always be more caution in this because he cared about her, he adored her, her life meant something to him. It just made him worry a little about self control when she taunted him. Especially when he was in a mood like this. Where he knew he wouldn’t stop himself from absolutely ruining her.
“I want you to.” Bunny was confident that she could take it. The slaps yesterday were manageable, hot, even and with the right aftercare, she was positive there was nothing he could do that would truly hurt her. Harry in his feral state was terrifying, yes, but a thrill that made her sopping wet. She was the object of his desire, surely the aggression he would lay upon her would translate differently than it had with anyone before her.
“Want you to show me the real you… want to know what it’s like, I can handle it.” She had opened up for him so nicely, let him see her slip into the softest of spaces. She had hoped to see him enter his own headspace, one where they could interact together.
“God….” Harry rolled his head back on his shoulders, his erratic breathing amplified by her fingers pressing over his own, making him squeeze. It got his attention right away. Damn it all to hell. The woman had a road map to the paths to drive him wild the quickest, the buttons installed in the tips of her little fingers.
She moaned. The vibration of it stung his palm. She was serious. Her head rolling back on the door as she hated herself to him with her eyes fluttering at the feeling. She was showing him, taunting him, and Harry could feel the tether to his rational being fraying.
“You… can handle it?” His lips curled up in one of the most cruel little smirks she had ever seen. “The soft, sweet little slut can handle it? Just a bit of slapping has you slipping. You really think you can manage it? When I make a mess out of you?”
Her nod made him narrow his eyes, watching as she blinked up at him. Did she?
He tested the waters, gathering saliva under his tongue and spitting it right on her closed lips, getting a surprised gasp from her. A flinch. “Lick your lips. Clean it up.” He stood straighter, seeming to loom over her. She stood with wide eyes, looking like she was going to speak before he took his fingers from behind her and lightly smacked her cheek.
“I didn’t fucking ask you to speak. Did I?” Her head shook, a tiny whimper making him laugh before continuing on. “No, I didn’t. I know you get a little brainless when I touch you, all you can think about is cock… but I gave you instruction. Try again.” He hissed, feeling his cock throb at how quickly she let her tongue rub over her lips. Pink brushing over the glistening pair of lips wet with his spit, she slowly dragged the muscle over the pout.
“There we are. Pretty little pet does have some sense floating up there.” He cooed, thumbing the rest she couldn’t get over the rest of her chin and rubbing it into the skin.
There was a pause, his eyes softening for a moment as he checked in. “My messy baby. Are you sure you can handle it? Y’know I adore you.” He pressed a soft kiss to her wet mouth, a direct contrast to his previous actions. “You’re my girl but… I’m gonna be mean to you. You know how to get me to stop, yeah?” It had to be abundantly clear. There wouldn't be unnecessary risks of losing her trust.
Bunny nodded her head, not wanting to risk speaking and making him unnecessarily angry. Just one word, that’s all it would take for him to stop. She decided to take his word for it and behave while she was still grounded in reality, god knows what she’s getting herself into when she was drunk on him and his cock. He’d given her a taste of it last time, blown her expectations out of the water, but she was his greedy girl after all.
His actions had shaken her up just enough for wetness to start pooling in her panties. She loved seeing him in this state, it was so animalistic. He was only focused on one thing and that was pleasure— in this case, his own. She would happily give herself to him a million times over if this meant he could get it out of his system. If it was anything like before she knew she’d enjoy it.
He’d never been mean to her before, it would definitely be a new feeling. However, it was all in the name of sex. Sex makes you say all sorts of things, it’s part of its nature. It’s a connection people can’t properly put into words. Bunny was eager to explore their connection even further and prove their trust.
“That’s a good girl.” He sighed, stroking over her hair before wrapping it around his fist. “Come.”
There was no other option- but Y/N didn’t mind. She followed, relishing in the slight prickling pain on her scalp as he stayed true to his word and led her like a naughty pup over to the bed.
“You’re such a nice girl. It really is such a shock to me that you love acting like a depraved whore.” He said with a chuckle. “Y’know, I thought… the first time we saw each other again, you were so sweet looking. Grown up, not a little girl, but sweet. That big smile and sparkling pretty eyes, bouncing on your feet. And then, later in the night… you crawled up on my lap. Tried to tempt me, with your brother just feet away. That’s when I knew there had to be something with you. Something that made you dirty, just like me.”
He undid his belt with his free hand, the sound of the leather snapping out of the belt loops making her whimper. His start was intense, intently on her eyes as he released her hair. “Wrists in front of you.”
There was no second request. She did it quickly, letting herself feel the warm leather wrap snugly around her wrists and through them. There was a shot of jealousy when she realized she was not the only one he had done this to. No- Harry must have done this dozens of times because of how well he did it, but she kept her mouth shut as he secured her.
“There.” One last tug and she was secure enough to not escape, but easy enough for Harry to be able to undo it quickly. “What a fucking vision you are, darling. Look at you.” His voice aired out, walking in a circle around her. Reaching into his pocket, he steadied himself behind her. His nose brushed her neck, inhaling the scent of her. This was enough to get him drunk. The perfume, her soap, the scent that could only be her…. Biting down on the flesh in a nip to make her yelp.
“Too good. Too fucking good for me, and yet…. You let me do such filthy things to you. I wonder what everyone would think if they knew how eager you were to get my cock in your mouth. So quickly after we agreed I’d be your boyfriend… taunting me. Almost crying because I didn’t give you my cum. And now? Now you want it dripping down your thighs.”
There was a metallic slice in the air, Bunny stiffening as she felt cool metal brush her chest. The flag of his pocket knife. “If they knew you shivered in anticipation while having a knife held to you. You know how nasty you’ve got to be, darling?” He laughed, the heat of it making her shiver again. “Oh, that’s why you’re so perfect for me, little Bunny.”
She gasped as he sliced through the upper part of her top in a swift motion, using his hands to rip the rest off. “But what good is having a beautiful slut at my beck and call if she’s clothed?”
The anticipation was killing her, all her senses heightened. She’d been waiting for him to bring the knife out again, but the unexpected action had her feeling warm. There was something that washed over her, a feeling reminiscent of embarrassment but was much more pleasurable. Sitting there exposed to him, clothes cut, unable to move her hands. The danger of it all was too appealing, Harry played the part well. Though, he wasn’t playing at all.
Harry noticed her breathing pick up, the way her chest was heaving made his cock stir in his jeans. He let the blade of the knife trace down her denim-clad leg, teasing her with the sensation before the tip met the zipper. “I bet you’re soaked under these, my perfect whore. Always ready for me to stuff you.” He was debating cutting the jeans off of her but decided against it, using one hand to unbutton them and pull them down.
Harry wasted no time in slicing her panties off, a dark laugh leaving his lips at her gasp. “Always liked that move, hm? Filthy slut. Open.” He commanded, waiting for her jaw to drop down before stuffing her mouth full of her panties. “Don’t trust you to stay quiet so I think this will do.”
It was degrading, absolutely, but there was just something about the way Harry could make it feel good. The humiliation swam in her stomach pooling down to her cunt, the damp spot on the fabric pressed against her tongue.
“Tastes good, doesn’t it?” He ran the cold metal over her thighs, over her mound ever so carefully to get it wet before moving in front of her. His eyes were dark, tongue licking up the flat of the blade and groaning at the taste. “Yeah. You can see why I love being parked right between these gorgeous thighs. If you weren’t such a baby, you’d stop complaining about being over-sensitive and let me lick you up. But…” he tossed the knife to the side. “I think….” His hand pushed her to fall on the bed. “It’s time for a proper taste. I’ve got you gagged, bound… I can lick you up, and prepare you for my cock. How does that sound?” He turned his back towards her to the drawer beside the bed, where he had left the cleaned and unpackaged toys. “Oh, that’s right. Y’can’t reply.” The snarky reply somehow left her feeling a bit more hot. How did he manage that?
“Gonna make you so sensitive, and you’re just going to lay there and take it. You loved being my fucktoy last time, so let’s see.” Standing between her legs, he tugged her by the ankles toward the end of the bed while he ignored her muffled squeak. “Three kicks with your foot if it’s too much. Otherwise? Don’t complain.” Establishing a safe system was imperative regardless of verbal ability.
Bunny felt her cunt throbbing but resisted the urge to squeeze her thighs together. It wouldn’t do her any good, not when Harry was standing there looking down at her cunt as if it was his first and last meal all at once. He took his sweet time, picking up one of her legs so he could kiss and bite his way down to her core. He loved the way she reacted to him, her sensitivity made him crave her that much more. Her scent had him forgetting what he had initially planned to do, eyes zeroing in on her puffy slick folds. Harry’s hands gripped around her thighs, lowering himself till he was kneeling on the floor.
With the panties gagging her, Bunny assumed her moans would be silenced. Instead, she was met with muffled sounds that only elevated the feeling of Harry’s tongue lapping her up. It was an erotic blend, the sound of slurping and sucking making her legs twitch. He was so good at this. Creating environments built to break her down little by little.
He was relentless.
Of course that was a given, but it seemed he was even more desperate tonight to get her, to get every bit of her slick on his tongue and she couldn’t keep quiet, even with her gag. He wasn’t holding back, licking up from her entrance to her clit before spitting back down and using his hand to gently smack over her.
When she squealed, Harry’s wet mouth grinned, filthy promise written in his eyes as he smacked harder over her clit and watched her hips buck up. “Slut for pain. Like when I do that to you?” He shook his head, picking up the toy and dragging up her wet folds. “I hope that extends to some overstimulation. I want you to cry for me today. Good tears. Tears only I can ever get out of you.”
Turning it on he felt her jump, the lower setting making her squirm as he situated it right on her clit whilst his finger slipped into her cunt. “Drooling little hole you’ve got… you’re lucky you love this so much. It’s going to make it far easier for us when I’m fucking you.”
The woman’s breathing was staggered, her stomach clenching at the tension he was creating. It hurt so good, the burn paired with a deep lull of pleasure creeping throughout her body. The gentle vibration of the toy was tormenting her, if only he had turned it up even just one degree she swore it wouldn’t be as agonizing as this.
Whimpers managed to push through the fabric lodged in her mouth, her thighs twitching in his grasp. She was trying her best not to squirm, breathing heavily through her nose as she mentally coached herself through the pleasure. Her cunt squeezed around his fingers, desperate to be filled by his cock once again. He said he was being mean, there would be no point begging. She did tell him he could do what he wanted. Bunny would be good.
“What a perfect fucking whore, I can feel you squeezing me. Want more?” Harry mocked, rubbing the pads of his fingers over her precious g-spot. He was slow with the movements, coaxing more of those delicious little moans out of her. “Should’ve known you could take it— don’t you dare cum before I say so.” He didn’t want to stop touching her, he intended to flood her senses for a good while before giving her her first of many orgasms.
Harry clicked the toy up a speed, chuckling darkly at the way her body jolted. “So sensitive, so greedy…” He just about growled into her thigh, teeth sinking into the skin enough to satisfy him. The man could tell she was gone, but he didn’t want to stop it. Not when she was taking it so well, not when she so clearly wanted more.
She yelped against the fabric, body jerking as his teeth marked her. He hadn’t been joking when he had said he was going to go for it. While he’s bitten her before, this one was a claiming one. Dark and hard and a promise of more, making her drip for him.
“So-ee.” The poor attempt of ‘Sorry’ was muffled through a gag, apologizing from her jolt. His eyes glazed up at her, shaking his head but continuing his slight torture.
Harry loved to see her wet like this. To see the wet juices of her cunt coat his fingers and drip down her folds, all the way down to her ass. Soon enough it would mark the bedcover, and he couldn’t wait for that. His cock was aching, pulsing in his briefs but he was satisfying a different urge.
“Sorry? Mm… Slutty thing is sorry she can’t take a bite. What are we going to do with you?” Adding another finger, her legs twitched as her toes curled, the sloshing, wet sound of them fucking into her the music he needed to hear to his ears. “Don’t fucking cum.” He warned, pressing the vibrator harder against her clit. “Don’t do it. I know you’ve got a filthy set of holes back here, but have some self control.” He could feel it, the beginnings of clenches around his fingers and her thighs trembling as she began to protest behind the gag.
She almost did it. The pain had buzzed on to pleasure as his joined fingers curled right against a spot that had her stomach jumping, but he could tell. Immediately, her muddled moans were disrupted by a screech. His hand yanked away the toy, his fingers pulling out and the wet palm of his hand coming rough roughly onto her cunt.
“What did I say? Did I not just fucking tell you to hold it? You were going to do it anyway.” Again, his hand came down right over her clit, the sharp sting making her writhe under him. Again. And again. The stringing of slaps to her most intimate area hurt, but they felt good. So good, and Bunny could feel tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.
With a glare, Harry’s fingers pulled her spit soaked panties from her mouth and held her jaw roughly, speaking to her through a cruel smile. “Does it hurt too bad?” He cooed, shaking her head back and forth before he narrowed his eyes. “Or…Did you like that? Did my pretty little pain slut like having her cunt smacked around?” He asked, wiping his wet fingers on her cheek. Y/N was stupified, eyes wide and wet and mouth open as she tried to find the words. “Yes or no, Bunny. Use those words. Or did Daddy take them away from you so quickly?”
“Yes, I liked it, Daddy.” Bunny could feel her face heating up as she breathed out her answer. Admitting it to him always made her feel so shy, even more so than being spread out like this. Her body belonged to him, she never wanted to hide from him after the first time. But saying she liked his twisted methods of domination was another story. She used all the strength she had to hold herself up, using this opportunity to take in his expression. His face was wet—covered in her arousal, and his eyes were dark with pure lust. Primal desire, he couldn’t help himself. Every bit of her struggle to manage the immense pleasure sent him further into the headspace. He swore he could swallow her whole if she’d let him.
“Yeah? You like it, gorgeous?” Harry cooed, noticing the floaty look in her eyes. She was just as far gone as he was, he was glad she had convinced him to give in. His perfect girl, she really could take it.
“I do... I do, I love it.” She mewled, seeking his approval as she looked at him with glassy eyes and pouty lips. “Love e-everything you do to me. I want to make you happy.”
Harry felt that tiny bit of softness leak through the primitive layer, making him pet over her face softly before it melted away. She was dazed, looking like a baby deer- his helpless little Bunny. “I know you do. I could do anything I wanted and you’d thank me for it.” He sighed, shaking his head before pressing his lips to hers. A hint of softness before he had her.
“I could take this little toy….” He took the vibrator, switching it back on to a higher setting and placing it on her clit as he loomed over her shivering body, her mouth open and wet as she took uneven inhales. “And I could tape it to you. I could keep this little thing connected to your poor little clit and make you cum over and over for me until you can’t take it. And you’d thank me.”
A tear dripped down her cheek as she tried to hold back, the orgasm quickly rising as he had found the perfect spot, the perfect pace. “H-sir, sir- please let me cum, please, please, please.” She wrung her hands in the belt, the bite of the leather making her moan. “I can’t hold it, I can’t hold it, I wanna be good-“
And then, it was gone. A sob left her throat, frustration raising as Harry’s smirking face was her only vision.
“That was a cute beg. I liked it.” His smile resembled a wolf. Hunting her down, playing with his food. “Let’s try it again.”
Edging.
“No, no, no— Please!” Bunny cried, thrashing slightly in disapproval. “Please, please, please, please—“
Smack.
“Quiet,” Harry commanded, his voice stern as his hand roughly gripped her face. With furrowed brows he stared down at her, daring her to look away. “You were doing so well, what happened?” He kissed his teeth, dropping her from his grip. “If you want to cum you have to listen to me, brat.” He was testing his own patience. Hearing her beg was a weakness of his, but he wanted to prove a point.
Bunny simply nodded, bottom lip quivering for a moment. She wanted to cum so bad she could cry, the smack he placed across her cheek only fueling the fire in her core. “I’m sorry, sir.” She squeaked, blinking away her needy tears in hopes that he would touch her.
“Can I have a kiss? Please.” Her voice changed momentarily, needing him to ground her and remind her that she was doing well despite his harshness.
It was a moment of clarity, her shaky voice bleeding into a slightly unsure tone that had him softening up nearly immediately. It was good to know that his body truly could tell a difference. His fingers stroked her cheek where he had smacked, eyes gentle as he tipped her chin up and pressed their lips together for a loving kiss. “Doing so well for me. Can’t believe how well you’re taking this.” He murmured against her lips. “You’re okay?” The last thing he wanted to do was upset her seriously.
Thankfully she nodded, puckering her lips for a few more kisses which he readily gave to her before he could sense her melting back into position. “There. Good girl. Just tell me if you need me to stop, you know the safe word.” He gently tapped the tip of her nose before he let that dark mask take back over.
She was in awe of how he could do it. How he could be so loving and tender to her and then call her all the names in the book- and even more so because she loved it. Ate up every single piece of it
Without a word, he slipped his hand under her jaw to keep her eyes on him while the other flipped the vibrator back on. “You can cum this time. Then I think you’ll be nice and open for my dick. I want to see you be the pretty, needy little brat. Talk to me. Because as soon as I’m inside you, you’re not going to be able to.” He nudged their noses together. “Because you get so dumb on my cock. I love every bit of it. But someone’s got to remind you who you belong to.”
She belonged to him.
Everyone in this hotel would know that by the end of the night, Harry would make sure of it. Granting her permission to make noise, he knew there was no reason for her to hold back. He himself was tired of the muffled sounds, he wanted to hear her loud and clear.
“Thank you, sir, I-aH” Bunny’s breath hitched, relaxing into the feeling with a low whine. He had started it off deliciously slow again, though the pain from his previous torment had built up. She was sensitive.
“Just wanna cum, wanna show you how good you make me feel.” Bunny’s hands instinctually went to cup her tits but forgot about her bound wrists. She cursed him in her head, quickly losing herself in the pleasure as he turned the toy up another speed.
“Please slap my tits, want you to bite me again— I wanna cum for you over and over and over like you said, sir.” She was gone, far gone. “I’m your good girl, I promise.”
Harry loved this. He loved every bit of it.
This woman called to every single part of him, making him feel slightly feral as she spoke. This was his best friend’s little sister, the woman he was supposed to protect, and yet she was here telling him to slap her tits, bite her, to make her cum. It was wrong in many senses of the word but Harry had found that part of that made it feel even better.
He growled under his breath, doing exactly as he wanted. “That’s what I wanted.” He chuckled, slapping her bare breast before pinching her nipple. The noise that came from her swollen mouth was unlike what he’d heard before, but it continued when he pulled on it. It was visible in her face, she was wrecked already and he wanted to get her there. Make her babble again, her shaking legs struggling to stay open as he leaned down to bite right on the swell of her breast.
Bunny let out another desperate mewl, the bite hurting so fucking good she was close to seeing stars. “Please, please, I’m a good girl. I’m a good girl for you, I’m yours, keep biting me- M’gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna….” Her frantic squeaks were paired with a dark noise from Harry’s throat, moving to her neck to bite down on the soft curve of her shoulder. As soon as his teeth dug in, she lost it.
The vibrations, the pain of them, his fingers twisting and pinching her breast, the perfect mixture to make her cum. A wail left her plushy mouth as Harry rutted slightly against her thigh, pulling his teeth away to watch her face scrunch in pleasure.
She could feel pins and needles in her legs, crying as she came. The work up to the orgasm, the restraint, his closeness, she was greedy and got one of her wishes.
Bunny sighed in satisfaction, her body convulsing as she rode out the orgasm. “Fuck! Ah-“ She hissed, finally feeling the buzzing of the vibrator on her clit. It seemed that Harry wasn’t satisfied with just the one. “It hurts, Daddy.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell him to turn it off though.
“Shh, give it a few moments, pet…” Harry mumbled against her skin, knowing if she waited long enough the pain would turn to pleasure. It took a few more moments and whines from her till he felt her hips buck up against the toy. “That’s it, give me another one like the greedy little whore you are.” He let his mouth move back down to her chest, sucking at the skin before finding another perfect patch to bite.
Her skin was so warm and smooth against him, though he was starting to get annoyed at the layers he still had on. He hadn’t even bothered to rid himself of his clothes, getting carried away in the moment. He couldn’t bring himself to let go of her either.
“Can I? Fuck— can I cum again? It feels so good, can I, can I, can I—“ Bunny’s breathing was picking up again, eyes squeezing shut as if that would stop the quickly building climax from ripping through her. “I can’t hold it, please say yes, please—”
Pulling off her nipple, his hand smacked against her breast before he barked out the order.
“Cum.”
She felt like she wasn’t in her own body, on her way out. Halfway in. She was hot, sweat on her brow as she shuddered under him. It was fuzzy, her eyes clenching shut as her mouth opened in a silent screech.
Harry loved watching her cum. How her body arched, how she shook, her jaw clenching and her chest heaving. He was going to make sure he could keep this vision exclusively his for the rest of his life.
“That’s it, that’s my fucking girl.” He praised, laughing in disbelief as he felt her gush a little on his hand that held the toy. Messy, wet, everything he had been going for. He knew when it was starting to get too much, her squirm and whine signaling him for the right moment to stop. Pulling it off, he tossed it to the side and pressed their lips together, peppering filthy praises between the kisses.
“My fucking girl. So pretty when you cum for me. You drive me crazy. I’m so obsessed with you.” He panted, pulling back and taking her bound hands, and untying the belt off of her wrists. They looked a little irritated, making him take a second to stroke over them and bring them together to kiss the irritated skin. “M’not sorry, precious. You loved it.”
He was quick to dispose of the rest of his clothes, kicking them whenever they landed. He just wanted her. She was boneless on the bed, his gorgeous woman, panting as she looked at him with wet cheeks and clenched thighs he had to pry back open.
“C’mon,Baby. Up.” He lifted her towards the top of the bed. settling her onto the pillows, her hair haloed across the linen pillowcases, her bitten lips plump and dark, cheeks wet with her tears from the pleasure. His angelic picture with a frame sent from hell.
“You can touch me now, but I need to be inside of you.”
“I want you,“ Bunny’s hands immediately flew up to his hair, tugging at the roots with vigor. She had been itching to do it since the minute his tongue swiped over her clit, her grip so tight she swore her knuckles were white. “Inside. Right now.” She was still breathless, lifting her head to connect their lips once again.
She loved to kiss him. She would be happy just kissing him forever, but why would she want to when he could fuck her like this? “You’re so hot,” She whined against him, “please put your cock in me. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Bunny let one of her hands trail down his back, nails digging into the skin to inflict a bit of pain and emphasize her words. She needed his cock. “Call me greedy, I don’t care, I want it so bad— I wanna make a mess all over you. Want to feel you,” She trailed off, her eyes glazed over with desire. Her hand moved to grab his, placing it over the softest part of her belly. “Here.”
He had definitely broken her a bit. That shy, soft spoken spirit with a hint of tease had gone full blown need, showing her hand as she broke, egging him for it. Whining. She liked to be manhandled, she liked how regardless of his rough actions he took time to praise and check in and it drove her mad.
His hand flexed on her stomach, a fire flaring through his body. His Bunny begging him for it, not a hint of hesitation- it did something for him. A new wick lit inside, engulfing the rest of him in flames. It triggered a thought. One that would have repulsed him had it been quite literally anyone else…but the girl under him had a way of making him completely and utterly ruin any walls he had up. Rubble on the pavement.
He obliged, settling between her legs and brushing the dripping, ruddy tip of his engorged cock through her slick and puffy lips. It was so easy to get wet enough, wasting little time as he began to push in.
“Then take it.” He whispered, sliding his hand under her neck to hold her there. Right at the nape, eyes watching as hers watered at the stretch. “You want me in your belly, baby? Want to be full of me?” Lips brushed hers. “You are such a needy, desperate little bitch. Y’know that? I adore every part of it. Makes me even more glad that you’re mine… but…” he hissed as she welcomed him in, finding his home deep seated in her cunt with his balls up against her ass. “When you do things like that, makes me want to breed you.” Their mingled breathing paused as Bunny’s caught in her throat. “Ought t’knock you up. Keep you full….. because you’re mine. You know it… but the world should know too, shouldn’t it? Should know *exactly* who you belong to.”
Y/N whined, wide eyed looking at him as her body reacted to the ultra possessive claim. He’s always been a domineering man, but something about such a permanent claim had them both hot. It would be the worst timing, but her legs tightened around him to keep him close.
“Please.” The bleated word hit his lips. “I- yes. Yes. I want it, I want you in my belly. Please do it.”
Harry snickered at her pleading, feeling his cock grow impossibly heavy inside her. She was begging for his load, to have his child. Part of him knew she was just spacey, but he decided he’d let himself imagine she truly meant it for the moment. Would hurt right?
“Asking so nicely, like a good little slut.” He purred, the same feral smile returning to his face. His hips pulled back only to snap back inside her with a guttural moan leaving his throat. “Fucking love your cunt,” He set a slow pace for himself, wanting to meld his cock into every part of her walls. “Think I could spend days inside of you and still never get enough…. And you’re squeezing me so tight, you still aren’t satisfied?”
“No, too slow.” Bunny breathed, at her wit's end. Feeling full of him wasn’t cutting it in this state, she was feigning. Her hips bucked up on her own, her back arching to lean further into him. Her bratty self wasn’t taking too well to this position. He was still going easy on her. “Don’t tease me anymore, know you want to fuck me stupid. Make me hurt. Show me how you want it.”
What she hadn’t expected, though, was the sting in her scalp as he gripped her hair and kept her face still as he filled her to the brim, stopping the thrusts.
No. No, she needed more.
“I think you forget who’s in charge here.” He snarled. “No matter how good your cunt is, I’m the one who owns it. Making demands?” He laughed through his nose. “I’ll do as I damn well please.” His cock pulled back out to the tip before slamming back in, making the bed lurch and hit the wall.
She swore she saw stars, a scream leaving her lips as he repeated it again. Deep, so fucking deep that she didn’t know what to do with herself.
“Where did my good whore go? I love that beg but-“ he gave another devastating thrust, making her pant, nails digging into his back roughly. “You turned into a brat. Lucky I need to empty my balls and you’ve got a perfect hole for it, or I’d take it away from you.”
Her grip was strong enough to break skin, nails clawing down the length of his back with primal need.
Harry groaned at the feeling, the burn adding to his arousal. He liked the pain she was inflicting upon him but needed to be closer, deeper.
Without much of a warning, he pulled out and flipped her around, slamming back into her with such force the bed frame smacked against the wall again.
“No more words, Princess? Already gone dumb on my cock?” Harry couldn’t stop his hips from pistoning in and out of her with force. The feeling of her milking him was far too good, he’d teased himself enough and it was time to give in. “Take it. Every, last, bit.” His voice grew dark, pushing himself up off of her so he could take in his view.
Beautiful supple skin ready to be marked in any way he pleased. Her ass was something he couldn’t resist. “Wanted to plug you up today, make you squirm till you begged for me to fill both of your holes.” Thwack. Harry paused to admire the trace left over on her skin. “I couldn’t wait. I knew you couldn’t either— filthy little slut. You’re dripping f’me.” He smirked, placing another heavy handed smack on the opposite cheek.
She didn’t know how good it would feel.
There had been a feeling. With how he had smacked her before, how he had held her a bit rough. She knew that she liked pain and liked to see him in a darker, dominant headspace- but she hadn’t expected to feel the stinging prickles on her cheek and have it travel down to her cunt, showing clearly now as he fucked into her. His smacks had made her moan, the garbled noise fueling him further. His fingers brushed over her hot skin gently and massaged the flesh as his cock pounded into her. A contrast to the heavy thrusts stealing her breath and the slamming of the headboard into the wall behind them.
“Fu-uck. I can’t- I….” She choked on her words as he shifted, one leg over her hip while he stayed between his thighs with the other one. Her ass was spread open with his hand, thumb pressing into her hole as she squealed and thrashed under him.
It was too much. Both her holes being filled, the jostling of her body, being tossed around with her face in the sheets, she came without permission. Screaming muffled into the fabric as her face was stained with sweat and tears, noises punched out of her as he didn’t let up.
If anything? It spurred him on.
The steady sound of the headboard smacking against the wall kept the two of them anchored in reality. They paid no mind to the slow cracking in the bed frame, instead, Harry found himself sinking deeper into a new headspace.
“Greedy girl,“ He growled lowly, his voice settling in the thick air of the room. The smell of sin was enough for him to feel high. “Can’t wait for permission?” Another smack reverberated throughout the room. “You‘ll give me another.” He demanded.
Bunny opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Unable to form a single sentence, she screamed while writhing beneath him. Everything felt fuzzy, her vision blurry, her body completely open. His words made her cunt clench, surprising herself with how much she could take. Her body was begging for more. Her head turned so she could catch her breath, attempting to stabilize herself with her grip on the sheets and mattress. It was no use.
“Knew you’d shut up.” Harry was feral. “Keep screaming, slut. This is exactly what you wanted wasn’t it?”
It was, it was exactly what the both of them wanted- and they wouldn’t be stopping.
Not until it was 3 in the morning, the bed had broken, and their muscles ached.
And a hole in the wall from the bed frame- but that would be a problem for when they woke up. So would Harry’s raised and bleeding scratch marks, the bruising on Y/N’s hips and wrists, the lack of voice she was going to have from screaming when he hit it just right- but that was tomorrow’s problem. Right now, it was time to relish in their unfiltered, unadulterated passion.
Who knew when they’d get this opportunity again?
#reaper#reaper harry#biker!harry#bikerry#harrystyles#harry styles fic#harry styles smut#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfics#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#one direction one shot#one direction fanfic#one direction fanfiction#one direction fan fiction#one direction#harry writing#mc harry#harry styles imagine#harry drabble#harry styles blurb#harry styles writing#jarofstyles#harry styles
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blurb masterlist
works marked with * indicate smut
all smutty blurbs
blurbs by theme:
innocent y/n wears lingerie for harry *
harry giving y/n a facial *
harry and y/n having sex in the bathroom at a club *
harry and y/n are getting married in italy (pregnant!reader)
#harry styles x reader#harry styles blurb#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#love on tour#fine line#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic#harry styles imagine#harry styles x you#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles one shot#harry styles headcanons#harry styles writing#harry styles smut#one direction#one direction imagine#one direction one shot#1d
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Were YN is madly in love with harry and propose him. Due to some circumstances he rejected her and Later he accepts it.
YN as Harry's tour assistance
Please x
Thank you for this request!! Sorry for taking forever I’ve been on holiday, but I hope this is okay!
Trigger warnings: swearing- but near to nothing
Harry x tour assistant reader
©️ please do not copy or translate my work.
“So what kind of thing were you thinking? America, England then Europe?” You spoke staring at Harry, moving your hands around to get your point across. You did it without even thinking, it was something that was just natural for you: talking with your hands. “I think it would be cool to add in Australia dates as well,” Harry spoke your eyes lingering on his lips as he spoke. You were utterly and completely in love with Harry. You had been his tour assistant for about five months and over those months you had gotten to know him better but also gotten to fall in love with him more and more… you had been bottling up these feelings for him for three months and gods was it becoming unbearable. His sweet lips, his green eyes, his kindness, his humour… fuck… you were obsessed with him. But who wasn’t? This is Harry fucking styles we’re talking about.
A soft hum left your lips and you nodded your head “yeah sure thing,” you wrote a few notes down to discuss with your managers later on “we could even do a wide world tour,” you spoke staring at him with a soft smile Harry’s lips curving up into to a warm smile his dimples appearing making your stomach flutter “wide world sounds good. There’s fans everywhere and you know, the cost of living isn’t exactly helping people buy concert tickets so to minimise that we can put tours all over- Japan, America, England, China, Asia in general, Australia- Everywhere else.” He spoke, this was one of the many reasons as to why you loved him so much and adored him because he spoke in such a beautiful way…. He was just so well spoken and kind and generous. “Okay yeah definitely… so like when you and one direction went on tour yeah? You guys went everywhere. So like that?” Harry nodded a permanent smile on his lips, it would be quite a big budget but you weren’t scared of it. It was going to be exciting to figure something out. Plus you knew it made Harry happy to make his fans happy so either way he was going to be happy and that made you happy. Beyond happy.
“I’ll figure this out with the managers and hopefully it’s successful, if it is I’ll be in contact with you in the next few days,” you spoke “thank you, Y/n I truly do appreciate it.” He reached his hand out towards you and you smiled expecting him to shake your hand but instead he patted you gently on the shoulder making your stomach flutter all over again. You were totally besotted with him. You stared at him with happy gentle eyes a lot of love in your own eyes Harry soon realising you hadn’t stood up “everything okay?” He asked and you cleared your throat “yes yes everything’s fine, sorry,” you chuckled nervously Harry’s green eyes searching your face but before he could’ve even said anything your feelings that you had kept to yourself for months came spurting out of your lips,
“I’m sorry Harry… this is probably really fucking abrupt but… you make me so happy. You’re such a beautiful person and.. I-… I don’t know I just like you… a lot…” Harry’s smile slowly faded, his lips parting in awe before a laugh left his lips yet he soon realised you weren’t laughing, your face was painstakingly anxious and that’s when his smile faded and he stared at you shocked. He didn’t realise you were being serious. He liked you, he did, he really liked you in fact- you were beautiful, someone he cared for and adored but he didn’t think a relationship was the right thing at that present moment especially because of the recent relationship with Olivia… Harry liked to call it a ‘fling’ between them as horrible as that sounded but it was the truth. Harry was the main role in don’t worry darling and Olivia wanted to promote her movie… what better way to promote it than sleep with her new money maker who was easily going to bring her fame and money. Harry didn’t want Olivia to target you and because his relationship with her was still pretty fresh and raw he didn’t feel like it was right to have a romantic relationship with you at that very moment.. sure things could blossom in the future but right now it just wouldn’t be fair on you and although he didn’t say it he cared about you so very much and just wanted the best for you.
“Look y/n you’re wonderful… and I care about you very much but…” he shook his head struggling to find the words. You were a sweet girl and he didn’t want to break your heart. He’d never forgive himself if he ever broke your heart “I just don’t want a relationship at the moment… you’re lovely though and beautiful you are… I’m very uh… flattered? That you think that but I’m just not ready for a relationship.” He spoke carefully and softly, he was usually straight forward but with you he was more tender because he cared so very much for you. You were more than a friend… so much more… yet he wasn’t able to express that at the very moment. Your heart had instantly dropped into your stomach your grip on your notepad tightening and you gulped harshly tears beginning to sting your eyes but you quickly forced a smile “that’s okay,” you let out a soft chuckle attempting to hide the shakiness in your voice but Harry noticed it and it broke his heart “thank you for understanding…” he smiled softly his eyes genuine and apologetic. You slowly stood up “I’ll be in touch soon Harry, have a good rest of your day,” you spoke before quickly leaving your anxiousness only growing yet you quickly forced yourself to calm down… getting rejected was absolutely one of the worst feelings ever. But you respected Harry’s honesty… you respected and were grateful for the fact that Harry was honest with you and didn’t even think to lead you on.
Harry the next few days was overthinking everything. He was thinking everything over and attempting to understand his own feelings and what he truly wanted and after two weeks of no contact from you Harry finally realised that he wanted you. He needed time to think… time to gather his thoughts and finally he had figured out that he didn’t want money, he didn’t want fame, he didn’t want anything…. All he wanted was you. Nothing else, no one else… just you.
And so Harry later on that day went out shopping where he bought chocolates, flowers and ingredients to cook a meal. After that he headed over to your place, and once arriving he knocked loudly on the door- he waited for a while, before eventually hearing the sound of the door unlocking before it was pulled open you coming into view and a warm charming smile formed on Harry’s face “oh.. harry..” you spoke confused, looking down at yourself almost insecure you wore turquoise blue shorts and a random T-shirt yet that soon was the least of your worries as you noticed was was in his hands… flowers… your heart skipped a beat and you gulped harshly “I uh… I just wanted to see whether the offer was still up.” He spoke and you furrowed your brows “the offer for what?” You asked and he smiled softly “the offer to love you.” Those words shocked you your brows raising “to love-“ “I love you y/n. I have done for ages… I just couldn’t tell you right away bec-“ he fell silent as he felt your lips smush against his, his eyes widening slightly at your burst of confidence but he soon placed the bag down keeping a hold of the flowers as he wrapped his arms around you, kissing you back gently but deeply all at once… the amount of love in the kiss being portrayed massively.
The flowers were pressed against your back, his free hand stroking against the small of your back as you melted further into him gripping onto his T-shirt tightly his lips tasting delicious… softer than anything…. Just how you had imagined. Before he eventually pulled back a small smile on his lips and he gazed down at you before lifting his hand up to caress against your cheek stroking his thumb against your skin as he searched your eyes softly and gently “you’re so beautiful y/n… let me cook us a dinner, yeah? Let me make you happy….” A soft grin tugged at your lips and you smiled nodding your head before kissing his cheek before dragging him inside the apartment Harry’s finger’s immediately finding yours, like the last piece of a puzzle finally connecting… it was beautiful.
“Also it’s been confirmed… you can do a world tour…” you spoke smirking at the man you loved Harry’s eyes widening with excitement and happiness “well then…. I suppose I better get a extra seat booked hm?” He spoke smiling and you stared at him with wide happy eyes “a seat booked for who?” You asked gently “for you obviously…. Just for you… you’re gonna be coming on tour with me…” a soft happy laugh left your lips before you wrapped your arms around him tightly and he smiled gripping onto you tightly yet gently “gods I love you..” you murmured softly, it was moving so quickly already but you couldn’t wait… it was going to be perfect… “I love you more.” He murmured pressing a kiss to your forehead “love you most…” you spoke smirking forcing a small scoff out of Harry “please, Y/n… I don’t think that’s possible..” he chuckled out gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he smiled down at you. For once Harry felt as if this was going to be the start of something wonderful…. Something that was going to blossom into something beautiful… maybe it was too soon to admit it but he knew then and there that he was in love with you. Head over heels. He was going to love you forever… he loved your soul, personality and smile… maybe finally he could spend his life with you: the one he loved more than anything.
#x reader#harry edward styles#harry styles x y/n#harry styles#yn#imagines#comfort#harry styles comfort#harry fluff#friends to lovers#friends to more#harry's house album#tour#love on tour#touring#manager#love story#short stories#requested#requests open#one direction#one direction one shot#1d#grapejuice#flowers#harry styles story#harry x you#harry x reader#harry x yn#harry x oc
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note: well…here’s a little one shot for Nialler’s birthday (let’s pretend i didn’t post this 3 days after, yeah? ;))
hope you enjoy! <3
i haven’t proof read this, so any mistakes, please let me know!
It was Niall’s 30th birthday. He was alone. Sure, he had plenty of friends he could’ve invited over and drank until he passed out, but he wanted to be alone. He was missing his boys today. His boys.
Louis, the idiot, the prankster, his partner in crime. Oh, how he missed the laughs they had on and off camera. Louis was the one who could make him laugh in the midst of a breakdown.
Liam, “daddy direction” as everyone called him. His best friend. The man who had a heart of gold, but had demons he had been fighting and overcame. Liam would hold him tight when things got too much.
Harry, his younger-older brother. The man who Niall knew would always be loved by millions around the world and could be on tour every single day for the rest of his life and still have sold out shows. The man who would stay up all night when Niall couldn’t sleep.
Even Zayn, his brother from another mother. The man who protected Niall, no matter the circumstance or consequences. Who showed his love every single day. He would sit silently when Niall would rant and rave about the difficulties he experienced.
Niall missed them. Beyond anything. He knew they were all living their best lives and he was forever proud of everything they achieved. He’d follow their journeys. Their music was indescribable. He had all their albums, listened to them every single day. He’d watch back old interviews and One Direction videos just to feel closer to them.
But, all he ever wanted, was to see them again, hang out with them again, have a massive party, just the five of them. Was that too much to ask?
He was turning 30 now, and the only gift he wanted was them. Don’t get him wrong, the gifts, cards, texts and countless messages he’s received already from friends, family and fans are so amazing and he feels so cared about…but, there’s only four messages he’s yet to receive and if his heart is cracking every hour that passes with nothing, well, nobody has to know.
It’s nearing 5pm, the time his friends had asked him to be ready for because they have some surprise planned for him before they take him out for the night. Niall found it quite pathetic really, how a now-30 year old man was alone in his home moping about the past, but you’ll have to forgive Niall, because he’s never exactly been “normal”. He was always the odd one out.
When he was changed and ready, about to open up a beer to celebrate on his own before he would spend the rest of his day surrounded by people, there was a knock on the door. He bit back a groan, quickly taking a gulp from the bottle, while walking towards the door.
There was a second knock, and Niall rolled his eyes. Sometimes, his friends were so impatient. They knew he was in, and knew he was expecting them, so there was no need to knock more than once, dammit!
“I’ve told you before, if you keep knocking, I won’t-“ He froze as he opened the door, nearly dropping his beer, thinking he was going crazy, because there, standing right on his doorstep, grinning cheekily and arms full of gifts, and alcohol, were the only four people he wanted to see.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NIALLER!” They cheered, holding up various gifts wrapped neatly, cards with his name on, Louis of course had enough beer for them all to spend the entire next 12 hours drinking, and every single one of them had eyes sparkling with joy and love.
“Wh-what?” Is all he could choke out.
It was Liam who explained, “You didn’t think we’d ever forget your birthday, did’ya, Ni? Your mum had said you were celebrating alone this year, and we couldn’t have that, could we, boys?” Liam threw a wink to Niall as the boys nodded, “Thought we’d drop by and make sure you had some company. After all, you only turn 30 once!”
Niall was shocked. He couldn’t believe his boys were really here and standing just merely inches away from him. He could feel the tears gathering in his eyes and he thanked the gods his house was protected from any public passer-by’s.
“We love you, Neil, and we miss you…can we have the honour of celebrating your birthday with you?” It was Louis this time, and Niall choked on a sob before nodding frantically and launching himself on them and bringing them all into a group hug.
He could hear their laughter as their arms wrapped around him and held up tight. His nose was hit with all their scents and he breathed them in, making sure it was real and he hadn’t just gotten so drunk that he was hallucinating.
“You idiots…I miss and love you so much,” He whispered, not letting go. He felt a pair of arms under his thighs and he jumped slightly, wrapping his legs around whoever’s waist and feeling them carry him back into his house.
By the smell alone, he could tell it was Liam he was clinging onto, and he started to blush. It’s been over 8 years since he last was carried around by any of the boys like this, but he didn’t care in that moment, because he had his boys again and he’d be damned if he was letting them go now.
When they made it to the lounge, he lifted his head from where it was buried in Liam’s neck, and looked around. Louis was putting all the beers on the table (the one Niall had already was amongst the bunch and for a moment, he wondered how it got there because he didn’t remember putting it down or even letting go), Harry was placing all the gifts they had brought in a neat pile in the corner of the room, Zayn was putting multiple games (board and video), DVDs and CDs he had with him in separate piles on the other table and Liam still had a hold of Niall.
“What did ya wanna do first, Nialler? We’ve got films, music, games? Or we can give you your presents? The choice is all yours!” He heard Zayn ask, and Niall finally let go of Liam to look around at them all. He grinned and wiped at his eyes, making sure to take it all in and laughed, truly laughed, head thrown back and eyes sparkling with so much love and joy.
“You lads better have got me the most expensive gifts you could find, after all, I’m your favourite Irishman ever!” He joked, and everyone burst into laughter.
“Nah, I prefer Bobby Horan!” Harry smirked, earning himself a playful glare before being attacked by Niall and the two “babies” of their group ended up on the ground, and the laughter was even louder.
Five boys who grew into men back together. Their hearts beating as one, once again. Niall wouldn’t change anything for the world, because even though they’ve moved on from their past, and are all doing their own things, they’re family. No matter what life throws at them, they’ve always got four brothers ready to catch them.
Niall spent his 30th birthday with the people who meant more to him than he could ever describe. Niall would never celebrate another birthday alone ever again. He had his boys there for him, and he’d forever be grateful.
Maybe one day in the future, they’d make music together again, maybe they won’t, but either way, Niall had four brothers who he’ll forever love and cherish.
note: Happy birthday, Nialler <3
sorry it took me slightly longer to post, writers block has hit me hard lately!
i hope you guys enjoyed this, anyways! it’s slightly different to what/how i usually write, so let me know what you think! :)
i’ll be working on some prompts over the next few weeks, so there’ll be more coming very soon!
#niall horan#one direction#harry styles#zayn malik#liam payne#louis tomlinson#niall centric#niallerrr#zianourry#narry#nouis#niam#ziall#happy birthday niall!!#niall james horan#one direction one shot#one shot#happy 30th birthday nialler
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Guysss…
How do we feel about me starting something new? I want to write and post just straight up smut.
Ok, ok, not just straight up smut butttt … one shots. Just simple little prompts that I can shoot out quick. Thoughts? I love to write a good smut scene, or a cute aftercare one, or literally any thing. Let me know what you think! (This would help me fill the gaps btwn my main posts) I could also do requests way easier this way! 🩵🩵
#harry styles#harry styles smut#harry#harry styles x reader#harry styles blurbs#harry styles stuff#harry styles fanfiction#one direction#harry smut#domrry#harry styles one shots#harrystylesmasterlist#harry styles masterlist#one direction one shot
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Somebucky’s One Direction Masterlist
One Direction (Some are requests, and some are not.)
Venture below the line for my Fanfics, and Oneshots of One Direction.
Preferences of the Boys
You’re Latina
Cute Date
Phones
Missing Christmas
Wearing His Shirt
Cameras
“More than I do”
Fears
Music
Surprising You
Helper
You’re African American
Secrets
Flowers
Gym Together
You’re Beautiful
Cute Moments
Names
Children
Zayn
Go-Karts
Stressed
Necklace
Laryngitis
Harry’s Little Sister
Birthday
Seeing Him Perform
Pillow Pad
Curvy - Z
Louis
Trigger Warning - Depression
Six Flags
Meeting Fans
Flirt
Singing
The Conjuring
Butt-Dial
Beach Day
Break Up
Curvy - LT
Liam
BFF
Curvy - LP
Surprise
Paparazzi
Bowling
French
Niall
You’re Sick
Pranking The Boys
High School: Getting into Trouble
Zac Efron
Paps
The Flu
Best Song Ever
You’re my Tomboy
First Concert
Everything has Changed
Scary Movie
Bad Dream
Not Pretty
Can’t Wait
Tickle Monster
Meet the Family
Driving Me Crazy
Preschooler Trouble
Masquerade
Fans give you bracelets
Basketball/Kiss Cam
Learning Dutch/Flemish
Appendix
Prank
Haters
Proposal
Award Presenters
Spider
Cars
Big Brother Harry
He’s Sick
Your son and Niall
Crazy Boys
Cuddle Buddy
Sick at Christmas
Road Trip
Truly, Madly, Deeply
Club Caddy
Rumors
Too Perfect
Kids Coloring
Grumpy
Old Friends
Sick Kid
Home Again
Curvy - N
Harry
Tattoo
He’s just a friend
Disney
Curvy - H
Couple’s Shoot
Plus Size
The Date
Movie Night with the Family
Asthma
Something Great
Cake
Making him Jump
High School: The Office
Fort Styles
Signing
Backstage
He talks to your Dad
Marcel -BSE
Nightmare
Cousin’s Wedding
High School
Scared to Love again
Punk
My Family
Everything
Black Friday Shopping
Getting Married
Meeting Daniel Radcliffe.
Wedding
Happy Birthday
Double Date
Drunk
Date Night Plans
Snowfall
Neighbors
Working Out
Move in
Couple Name
Our Tree
The Hate
Play Fighting
Cake Making
Beautiful Face
Story of My Life
Jealousy
Cheesy Jokes
Meet the grandparents
It’s a girl
I choose you
Food Poisoning
Going to State
Note:
This page can be found under the url: https://somebucky.tumblr.com/somebuckywrites and under the tag on my page #somebucky. You can also find all my writing on Ao3 under the pseud somebucky.
This tag is on all of my writings, so if you want to come back to my masterlist easily or find another work by me, just click the somebucky tag at each work, search my page or all of tumblr for the tag. :)
#zayn malik one shot#liam payne one shot#niall horan one shot#one direction one shot#harry styles one shot#one direction#harry styles imagine#harry styles#zayn malik imagines#zayn malik#liam payne imagine#liam payne#louis tomlinson imagines#louis tomlinson one shot#louis tomlinson#niall horan imagine#niall horan#one direction preferences#one direction imagines#somebucky masterlist#somebucky
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Pull Over
You and Harry take a drive along the coast only for a little pit stop…
Warnings: Adult Content 18+
Word Count: 4.9k
MASTERLIST
“You have to tell me everything about it. I don’t want any missing details! Do you think anything will happen?” Your best friend, Aluora, shouted excitedly through the phone. She had been your best friend since kindergarten but ever since you moved you haven’t seen her in a while. You two talked every day and it’s like nothing had ever changed even though you were on opposite sides of the country.
“I won’t I promise, but I don’t think so. I told myself I was going to take things slow. I told him that too. He hasn’t even kissed me yet! I mean I wouldn’t have minded because it’s just a kiss and I wanted to so bad but I’m not one to make the first move, you know that.” You shrugged. Your phone was set up against the sink and wall as you continued to get ready since you were on FaceTime.
“Wow what a gentleman. Most guys try to fuck after the first date. He must be a keeper.” Aloura laughed and you laughed with her.
“Tell me about it. I hope he is though. He’s one of the sweetest guys I’ve ever met and god, he is so damn sexy.” You threw your head back at your last words and you could hear her laugh through the other end.
“Do you have any pictures of this mystery man? I still have yet to see what he looks like. You haven’t even told me his name!” She groaned. You grabbed your phone and went to his Instagram page and screenshotted a picture of him.
“Before I show you, you have to promise me you won’t freak out. I have no idea how it happened, but it did.” You point your finger at the screen and Aloura put both hands up in the air to show she wouldn’t.
You sent over the picture and as soon as it went through all you could hear was the loudest scream out could possibly imagine. You turned down the volume on your phone a few notches before she blew a speaker.
“Y/N, you’re fucking kidding me. The Harry Styles!? You’re lying.” She shook her head in disbelief. Aloura was a huge fan of his music, ever since he was a part of One Direction, which is one of the main reasons you didn’t tell her because you knew she’d freak out.
“I’m not lying. Again, I have no idea how it happened.” You continued to do your makeup, opening your mouth just so you could apply your mascara.
“How come there were no photos of you guys from your first date?” She asks curiously. Honestly, you don’t know how to answer because you’re not sure. You figured going out with a big name like Harry the paparazzi would be all over you two. But now that you recall, there was nothing.
“I… I actually don’t know?” You stood still for a minute trying to rack your brain of all of the possibilities.
You were in the bathroom finishing the final touches on your hair and makeup waiting for your date to arrive. You smiled at the thought of being able to see Harry again. The two of you were going on a second date. Nothing too fancy, just going for a drive along the coast and possibly a picnic if the weather decided to clear up. You hadn't been in California long but you were loving it so far. You only had a few friends here that you knew from high school since they moved for college but after you had graduated you just needed a change. Granted it was about three years since you had graduated, but better late than never right?
You worked at a cafe that was down the street from your apartment and the money was good. You made a few friends through work but still had yet to hang out with any of them. You were a homebody and without Aloura here, things just weren't the same. You still missed her more than anything.
Right as you finished applying a thin layer of lip gloss you heard three knocks at the door. You gave yourself one last look over before turning off the light and exiting the bathroom to make your way to the front door.
“I gotta go he’s here. I love you!” You wave to Aloura and you end the FaceTime call. You took a deep breath, butterflies filling your stomach. You answered the door to see Harry standing there holding an assorted bouquet. Different types of white, yellow, orange, and pink flowers. You didn’t know what any of them were beside the sunflowers and daisies.
"Harry, you didn't have to get me flowers! You're too sweet." You grabbed them from him and stepped to the side so he could come into your apartment. You walked over to the small kitchen and tried to find a vase of some sort to put them into. You found a tall, skinny, black vase and filled it with water before setting the flowers inside to set on the counter.
"Pretty flowers for a pretty girl. I couldn't just show up empty-handed. We’re you talking to somebody?" Harry shrugged casually and wrapped his arm around your waist before planting a small kiss on your cheek. You could feel your cheeks heat up at the small gesture as it took you slightly off guard since you guys haven't even shared a first kiss yet. Not that it was a huge deal, anyway, just a surprising gesture.
“Yeah, I was on the phone with my best friend. M’nervous to be honest.” You mumbled the last part. You played with your fingers for a moment waiting for a response from him.
“Nervous? What for?” He asked. There were plenty of reasons why you were nervous.
“I’m not sure.” You lied. Lying was never a good thing to start in a new relationship, or whatever this was, but you didn’t want to turn it into a whole thing.
You had just gotten out of a tough relationship a couple of months prior. One of your friends had introduced you to Harry and the two of you hit it off almost immediately. You told him from the very beginning that you wanted to take things slow, and he was doing just that. On your first date, the two of you went to a nice restaurant and got ice cream afterward. Even though you told him you wanted to take things slow, you were shocked he didn't kiss you after bringing you home. A kiss is just a kiss anyway.
"I packed some food and wine for us. I thought maybe we could have a little picnic by the water. Has the weather cleared up any? I haven't looked outside." You grabbed the small basket from the fridge and pulled it out. There was an assortment of sandwiches, chips, fruit, and even a bottle of wine with some glasses just to spice things up a little.
"A little bit, yeah. It's still pretty cloudy outside but it feels nice. Should we go?" Harry nodded his head and grabbed the small basket from your hands so you wouldn't have to carry it. You nodded in response and grabbed your phone and purse before the two of you walked down to his car.
"You know, I had an amazing time last weekend. I know I told you multiple times already but I did." You stared at your feet as you walked down the hall and eventually down the stairs since you lived on the second floor of your apartment building.
"I did too. M’really glad we're going out again. I wasn't expecting a picnic though, luckily I have a couple of extra blankets in m'car." Harry opened the door and stepped to the side holding it open so you could go first. He followed right behind you and then made his way back next to you. You noticed the yellow convertible sitting in front of your complex and you immediately knew it was Harry's. He had such a knack for cars and this just had to be one of them.
"What kind of car is this, H? I absolutely love it." Harry opened the door for you and you slipped into the passenger seat, whispering a small thank you. What a gentleman.
"It's a 1972 Ferrari Dino. I just got it not that long ago, it's one of m'new favorites." Harry got into the driver's seat and sat the basket down by your feet since there was no backseat. He put the keys in the ignition and as he turned them, the old-fashion yellow car purred to life. You gently ran your fingers over the black leather interior and looked around. It was an extremely nice car.
"I love it. It even matches my dress." You looked down at the pale yellow sundress with little daisies printed all over. It was one you had just bought recently and you figured this date would be perfect to wear it for the first time. It wasn't anything special but it was a new favorite piece.
"You look absolutely beautiful, Y/N. M'sorry I didn't say anything sooner." Harry scanned your body for a minute and the action alone sent chills down your spine. There was just something so intimidating about his gaze that you found it hard to make eye contact with him sometimes.
"You don't have to apologize, it's not like I was expecting any sort of compliment. But thank you." You blushed at his compliment and looked down to your feet. Harry pulled away from the curb and began driving towards the coast. He slipped on a pair of sunglasses that seemed to fit his face perfectly. He turned up the radio a bit and music played softly throughout the car.
After driving for about fifteen minutes, the drive was filled with quiet music coming from the radio, but silence from the two of you. As you observed the scenery and you let him focus on driving. The wind had picked up which caused your dress to ride up slightly on your freshly shaven legs. Harry put his hand on your thigh and began to rub small circles with his thumb. The simple touch sent jolts of electricity through your body. He hadn't even done anything and he was already driving you crazy. You bit your lip before looking over at him, and he had the smallest smirk on his face, almost like he knew the effect he had on you. You observed his features from the side and scanned his body. He was wearing a black button-up shirt that was rolled up on his arms and only buttoned about halfway, exposing the tattoos on his chest. It was accompanied by a pair of black skinny jeans and a black pair of Vans. Rings scattered his fingers and he had a chain necklace with a cross at the end. The look was so simple yet he looked so insanely hot. His curly locks were blowing in the wind and every few minutes he would take his hand off the wheel and push them back, still keeping his other hand on your thigh. His hand moved up your thigh slightly, the dress moving over the top of his hand.
You looked back out the window to avoid any more wandering thoughts but they genuinely were getting the best of you. You had made a promise to yourself to take things slowly but there was just something about Harry that made you want to forget all of that. You trusted him fully, he hasn’t given you a reason not to. He was completely understanding of wanting to take things slow because of your past relationship and he never tried to break any of those boundaries thus far.
The thoughts never strayed though. You thought about what his fingers and mouth might feel like against your core, what his lips would feel like intertwined with yours. Everything about what his touch would be like took over your mind.
You shifted in your seat and you could feel his eyes on you. A wave of heat crept to your core and you bit your lip again. All of the possibilities going through your mind.
We're going slow. You made a promise to yourself.
Harry's hand moved a little further, his fingers gripping your inner thigh and his thumb still rubbing small circles. Every time he would make a circle his thumb would slightly graze the inner part of your leg that meets your pelvic bone. You leaned your head to the side against the headrest and let out a shaky breath, hoping he wouldn't notice. You could feel your cheeks getting hot at the simple contact but he was just lighting you on fire.
“Y/N I know you want to take things slowly but fuck, you’re driving me crazy.” His voice was deep and he adjusted in his seat, pulling on the material of his jeans to relieve some of the stress.
“In a good way, I’m hoping?” You laughed softly and Harry laughed with you.
“Yes. In a great way even. Frustrating, but a good way.” He nodded and squeezed your thigh a little tighter this time. You put your hand over the top of his and move it closer to your core, assuming he’d gotten the hint.
"Tell me to stop, and I'll stop." He spoke quietly, but just quietly enough for you to hear him. His thumb grazed over your heat, slowly starting to rub small circles over the clothed damp center. He continued his slow, circular movements for a few minutes and every time he made a complete pass you could just feel yourself getting hotter.
"Don't stop." You shook your head and as you did, you could feel the dampness becoming more prominent and you knew he could feel it too. You closed your eyes, and let the overwhelming feelings just take control. You lifted your dress ever so slightly to reveal the black lace underwear you put on this morning. Harry’s eyes went back and forth between your hips and the road. A small groan left his lips as he tried to observe the material as best as he could while still trying to focus on driving.
"Fuck, Y/N, you're going to make me crash this damn car.” Harry chuckled but never stopped his movements, if anything he sped them up. A soft moan left your lips that you were praying he heard just to get more of a rise out of him.
"Should I pull over somewhere? Say the word and I will." He asked swiftly, eyes going back and forth between you and the road again. You nodded your head but that wasn't good enough for him.
"I want to hear you say it. Do you want me to pull over?" His voice was low. You could hear the dominance in his voice and it was incredibly sexy.
"Pull over." And without a second thought, Harry quickly pulled over down a dirt road that seemed like it would lead down towards the water. He sped up to get down faster and you hit a part of the beach that was pretty private. There wasn't anybody around and it was almost like he knew this was here. Maybe it was just sheer luck. Or was that his plan.
Harry faced his car towards the rocky cliff that was near the entrance of his tiny private beach. He threw the car into park and turned off the ignition. He undid both your seatbelts and focused all of his attention on you. His fingers moved over your clothed entrance again, teasing you at every chance he could get.
"Please don't be a tease, H." You moaned, shifting your hips to gain more friction against his hands. His movements would go at a slow, steady pace before he would speed them up again and repeat the process all over again.
"Let's get out, yeah?" Harry opened his door before rushing over to your side and opening your door for you. He put one arm behind your back and the other underneath your legs before lifting you out. He brought you to the front of the car and sat you on the hood. It wasn't hot but it was warm enough to make your legs sweat a little. It was a nice heat, but from how hot and bothered you were it definitely wasn't helping.
"Are you sure you want me on the hood of the car? You just said you just got it." You questioned. Harry positioned his body between your legs and brought one of his hands to the back of your neck.
"That's exactly where I want you, darling." He smirked before his lips crashed down onto yours. You took in a deep breath through your nose as the action caught you slightly off guard. Your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned a little more to the kiss. His tongue grazed your bottom lip, requestion permission to enter. You opened your mouth slightly to allow his tongue to slip in, both of yours fighting for dominance. At the same time, a groan rumbled from his chest as a moan escaped yours.
Harry's lips moved from yours to your cheek, to your neck, and down towards your collar bones, sucking and biting a little harder in some places that you knew were bound to leave lilac marks. With every kiss, he just kept sinking lower and lower until he was on his knees in front of your clothed core. He bunched up your dress at your waist and placed his fingertips at the sides of the lace underwear.
"Y/N, I mean it, tell me to stop at any point and I will. If anything gets too rough or your uncomfortable just tell me."
"I want you to do anything but stop. Please." You whimpered. His eyes flashed a darker shade of green before he ripped the lace right of your hips. The tear creates a slight sting against your skin.
"Harry those were my favorite!" You whined.
"I'll buy you more, I promise." He smirked as one of his hands made contact with your heat. Arousal pooled between your legs with every little touch he made and it was clear that he knew it was because of him. His thumb made circles against your bundle of nerves and the small bit of pressure caused a moan to escape past your lips.
"I wanna taste you, darling." He whispered just loud enough for you to hear.
"Please," was all you could say before his mouth attacked your core. A lengthy moan escaped your lips at the fact he had finally made some sort of contact. He sucked on your bundle of nerves causing your legs to shake slightly. You're pretty sure he noticed as his arms wrapped around them to keep you as still as he could.
"Fuck, H," You moaned as Harry licked a long slow strip up your core. Your hands moved to his hair and you tugged slightly which earned a groan from him that vibrated against you. His fingers teased your entrance before he entered one finger, curving it upwards to hit the spot you didn't even know existed. A louder moan left your lips as he pumped one of his fingers in and out of you before adding another one. You looked down at him to see all of the dirty things he was doing to you. Right as you looked down at him you noticed that his eyes were already focused on you, observing every breath, moan, and whimper you made under his touch.
"Shit, I think I'm going to cum, fuck, Harry, don't stop," You gasped as you felt the familiar feeling beginning to spiral in your stomach. You threw your head back and let out a series of moans. Before you could even feel the release of your climax, Harry halted all of his movements, removed his fingers, and stood up, towering over you. His hands cupped your face before planting a kiss on your lips.
"How about some wine, yeah?" Harry smirked as you stared at him in disbelief. Was he seriously just about to leave you like this?
"W-what the fuck?" That was all you could manage to say. You genuinely were at a loss for words. What the fuck is this?
Harry walked over to the back of his car and grabbed a couple of blankets that he had mentioned he had. He started to set them up as you just sat on the hood of his car in disbelief. As he sat down on the blankets he began to take the wine and glasses out of the basket.
You hopped off the hood of the car and sat down next to Harry as he poured some wine for the both of you. He handed you yours first as you glared at him and you pretty much chugged the glass from frustration. Not that it was something you shouldn't get pissed about, but you were livid.
"What's the matter, love?" Harry had a stupid grin on his face, knowing exactly what he was doing to you. You grabbed the bottle of wine from his hands and poured yourself another glass, drinking this one just as fast as the other.
"Oh nothing, just having the worst experience of getting denied what was probably going to be the best orgasm of my entire life. What the fuck do you think is wrong Harry?" You shot at him. You rolled your eyes and faced the water and watched the waves crash to shore. You felt one of his hands grab your jaw and he turned your head towards him.
"The best, eh?" He smirked and you couldn't help but roll your eyes again.
"At this point, make it the worst." You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. You made eye contact with Harry and he had a serious look on his face with one of his brows raised. You knew you hit a nerve.
You felt one of Harry's hands wrap around your wrist and pull you up, practically dragging you towards his car. He walked around to the front and pushed you down over the top of the hood of the car. You felt your dress bunch up around your hips and your arms were forced behind your back, leaving your chest and your head pressed up against the hood. Harry's lips attacked your heat again only for a moment before he gripped your dainty wrists with one of his hands. You heard the zipper of his jeans and knew he was lowering his jeans to about the middle of his thighs. He teased your slick folds with the tip of his dick.
"Fuck Harry, please don't be a tease I hate that shit." You groaned. It was only seconds after the words left your mouth before you felt him stretching you out. A long moan escaped your lips at his size. He was honestly bigger than you were expecting him to be.
Harry's pace started slow, giving you some time to adjust to him but it wasn't long before his thrusts became sharper and quicker. You so badly wanted to just run your hands all over his body and watch all of his movements but it didn't seem like it was going to happen since you were facing away from him and it didn't seem like he was going to let go of your wrists anytime soon.
"We'll see about that being the worst, love," Harry whispered in your ear before sending another sharp thrust into you. A loud whimper left your mouth and your moans were almost becoming pornographic. He had a perfect rhythm going and it didn't seem he was going to let up anytime soon. His thrusts were sharp and hard, not giving you any mercy.
He let go of your wrists but one of his hands came up and wrapped itself around your throat. He didn't apply any pressure since he wasn't sure if you were okay with it but your next words nearly sent him over the edge.
"Choke me, Styles."
His hand squeezed around your throat and you gasped at the feeling, a smile playing across your lips. You looked ahead at the waves and it was almost like it was resembling how he was making you feel.
Being choked was one of your favorite things but nobody could ever seem to do it right or they were just too scared to hurt you. You liked the pain and you didn't mind if you even had bruises, in the end, it was just a nice reminder of the time you had
It was almost like he was reading your thoughts as you felt a hard smack across your ass, sending out another loud moan. Harry reached his free hand down and began rubbing fast circles on your clit. Tears brimmed your eyes from the feelings being so overwhelming. Your vision was slowly going black from him choking you, but somehow it was just even more arousing. His hand released from around your throat and you gasped for air, the stars that were clouding your vision starting to disappear.
"Such a good girl," Harry groaned as he slowed his pace, trying to elongate the moment in any way that he could. His thrusts were still sharp and it was nearly perfect with every spot he was hitting.
"Oh my god." You gasped. As the familiar feeling of your climax starts to bubble in your stomach, you could feel yourself tightening around him.
"Fuck, if you don't stop tightening around me I won't last much longer," Harry groaned as he threw his head back.
"Shit, please let me cum, H, please! I'm so close," You begged. Harry's movements sped up as you pleaded.
"Cum for me, darling," He whispered in your ear and that was all you needed before you exploded around him. You cried out his name as he kept moving quick circles on your clit, riding you through your orgasm.
"Fuck, I'm going to finish," Harry groaned and you could feel his thrusts getting sloppier.
"I want to taste you," You felt Harry pull out of you and you stood up before dropping to your knees. He was much bigger than you were anticipating. Your lips wrapped around his slick head and you started bobbing your head up and down, using your hand for the rest that you couldn't fit into your mouth.
"Look at you and those pretty little lips around my cock," Harry hissed and his dirty words made you moan. You could feel him twitch and you just knew he was going to cum soon. You quickened your pace and played with his balls with your free hand, causing a loud moan to escape from him. You took his length as far back into your throat as you could which released another moan from him. You looked up at him with innocent eyes which only seemed to weaken him.
"Shit, Y/N, I'm cumming," Harry groaned and you felt his length twitch inside your mouth as the warm, salty liquid shot down the back of your throat. You continued to suck him off, trying to get every last little bit of him that you could.
You pulled him out of your mouth with a 'pop' and licked a slow, teasing stripe against his length before standing to your feet. You grabbed onto Harry's arms since you were unsteady and he let out a small laugh. Your dress fell back down hitting the middle of your thighs and Harry pulled up his boxers and jeans, adjusting himself. His hands came up and cupped themselves against both sides of your face before he placed a slow, passionate kiss against your lips. His tongue intertwined with yours slowly to fight for dominance.
"Let's get you home and cleaned up, yeah? Do you wanna come back to mine?" He whispered as he barely pulled away from you, noses touching.
"Only if I can get more of you," You whispered back, tangling your fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck and tugging back slightly to expose more of his neck before you started planting a mark on his jaw just below his ear. He let out a shaky breath and his hands gripped around your ass.
"Ready for round two already?" He smirked, letting you leave a mark on him. It was only fair since he left multiple on you.
"After that? I'll never get enough of you." You whispered in his ear before turning away to grab all of the belongings that you left a little way down the beach. Harry wasn't far behind you as he grabbed the blankets and shook off all of the sand before folding them up. You walked back to the car and he was quick to open the door for you before he got in himself. He put the keys in the ignition and his car purred to life. Before he started to pull away he leaned over a placed a firm kiss against your lips.
"How about we go back and I fuck you properly this time?" He whispered in your ear before tugging on your earlobe with his teeth. You faced him as a wicked grin flashed across his face and his eyes filled with lust. You bit your lip and nodded your head, leaving you at a loss for words.
After tonight, you were going to be absolutely wrecked.
**************
It’s been so long since I’ve written any one shots wow, but this is the first one for this account((: How would we feel about a part 2?(;
#Harry Styles#HarryStyles#Harry Styles One Shot#HSOneShot#HS One Shot#Harry Styles Fic#Harry Styles Fanfic#Harry Styles Fanfiction#HS Fanfiction#One Direction Fan Fiction#One Direction One Shot
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🍒NEW STICKER DROPPING ON MY ETSY FRIDAY🍓
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#harry styles#harry styles smut#hslot#love on tour#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fluff#harry styles blurb#harry styles one shot#one direction#harry styles imagine#one direction fluff#one direction one shot#one direction smut#harryshouse#Harrychella#pleasing#treat people with kindness#tpwk#hizzo
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"Should've Picked Me."
Summary: Niall wants a girl on his team for The Voice, but she ends up picking a different coach. She somehow ends up in his dressing room later and apologizes for not picking him. It's cute, but then Niall goes into cocky mode, and he starts talking about what she's missing. He takes off his button up, revealing his tank top. He seduces her, demands she gets on her knees, and he makes her choke and gag, and he makes her admit he's the best and she should've picked him. Lots of arrogance please!
Requested: yes!!!
POV: 2nd
Warning(s): M receiving oral, choking/gagging, dirty talk
You were speechless. All four judges had turned their chairs for you, pretty much arguing with each other over who wanted you the most. You had always had a passion for singing and growing up were constantly told by people around you how talented you were. It was your dream to be a singer but you never thought it would actually work out for you. After much encouragement, your parents finally convinced you to try out for The Voice and so far, it is paying off. You knew you could sing, but all four celebrity judges (who were also all professional, successful singers with amazing voices) were telling you how incredible you were. You couldn't believe it. Your dream was finally coming true.
After all the judges did their speeches, praised you, and begged you to be on their team, you were torn on who to choose. Kelly was one of the celebrities that you adored and always looked up to growing up so little Y/N would die to be on her team. Chance had such a beautiful singing voice that wasn't always portrayed in his songs so being on his team meant being able to hear more of his voice. Blake had that country-ness that you secretly adored, plus he was so funny so you knew you would have so much fun on his team. But Niall, oh you had the biggest crush on that boy. He was so fine. That chocolatey, brunette hair always perfectly styled, the jewelry adorning his earlobes, neck, and fingers, those gorgeous, blue eyes you could get lost in, the facial hair lining his jaw, the chest hair peaking out from under his unbuttoned shirt, his thick Irish accent, his personality, humor, just everything about him made you melt.
"This is such a hard choice," you groaned softly, "but Kelly, you were one of my biggest inspirations growing up so I think I'm gonna have t' go with Team Kelly."
Kelly erupted into cheers, coming up and hugging you so tightly. The 3 boys groaned and grumbled, upset that you didn't choose to be on their team.
"Yer gonna regret that," Niall tsked with his arms crossed.
You blushed and his eye contact with you sent chills up your spine. You brushed it off, trying not to get yourself too worked up over him, knowing nothing would ever come from it.
After all the auditions were over, you and the other contestants were gathered to discuss what the next steps going forward were in regard to the competition. From this point on, your mind was fuzzy. You didn't know if it was the adrenaline, pure shock, or excitement, but you couldn't even remember when or how you got to where you are now. You and Niall were alone in his dressing room.
The door was closed behind him and butterflies were swarming in your stomach as he spoke, "'m mad atcha."
"Why?" you pouted, even though you knew the answer.
"Ya didn't pick me."
"Niall," you whined teasingly, "I had to pick Kelly!"
"Ya did not," he giggled, "I feel so betrayed!"
"Why do you like me so much?" you asked, genuinely curious why he was so eager for you to be on his team.
"Dunno," he shrugged, stepping closer and cupping your face, "just somethin' about ya. Yer confident, gotta beautiful voice, beautiful eyes, beautiful face, beautiful lips."
His voice had gotten much deeper and his accent had begun to get thicker. You could feel the sexual tension filling the air very rapidly and you couldn't help the squeeze of your thighs once you felt your panties start to dampen at his words.
"I wanted ya," he added, "I wanted a pretty girl with a voice of an angel like you on me team."
You couldn't help but blush at his words.
"Yer gonna miss out though," he smirked, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, "Would've got a lot if ya were on me team."
"I'm sorry," you hummed seductively, "Do you forgive me?"
"Might be able to," he replied, beginning to walk away from you.
"Might?"
"Mhm," he nodded.
His fingers started fumbling with the buttons on his button-up shirt, slowly unbuttoning the buttons and watching as you watched him in awe. He slid his jacket off of his arms and tossed it onto the couch. His muscled arms were revealed to you and the tank top adorning his chest made your mouth water. You noticed the gold necklace still wrapped around his neck and you couldn't help but imagine the sight of it dangling over your face while he fucked in and out of you.
"What can I do t' get you t' forgive me?"
"I can think of a couple things," he hummed, walking towards you again.
"Like what?" you grinned.
He didn't answer you, silence taking over the room as you both stared at each other, curious about who was going to make the first move. The sexual tension in the air was so high you thought you might suffocate. He was so sexy. His blue eyes were clouded over with lust and you noticed his gaze trailing down to your lips.
"'m gonna be honest, it's takin' everythin' in me not t' kiss you right now."
"Then why don't you?" you smirked.
"Fuckin' hell," he groaned to himself.
His lips crashed onto yours, tongue slipping into your mouth and asserting his dominance. He quickly backed you up against the wall, lips moving in sync with yours. His hands gripped your hips tightly, squeezing them as he pushed himself into you. His bulge caressed you exactly where you were already throbbing for him. The slight friction of his hips grinding into you sent relief to wash across your body, but also made you want more at the same time.
It wasn't long before his hands started to wander your body. He grabbed onto the hem of your top and pulled it up over your head, tossing it carelessly onto the floor. He pulled the right side of your bra down, revealing your nipple to the cool air. He cupped your breast and squeezed roughly while his lips landed on your neck, leaving marks everywhere they could reach.
His hands trailed down again and slipped past the elastic band on your skirt. He pushed it down your legs and allowed it to pool at your feet before you heeled off your boots and kicked your skirt and shoes in the direction where your shirt landed. Your matching red bra and panty set were now exposed to him. You were thanking your past self for putting on a pair that made you feel sexy rather than an old, ratty pair.
He bit his lip as he lusted over your body, his hands snaking behind your back and undoing your bra. He slipped it off your arms and tossed it to the side. Your nipples pebbled at the temperature change and you suddenly felt very vulnerable, but you weren't complaining.
"Fuck, yer sexy," he growled.
His lips immediately found their way to your left nipple, slipping it past his pink lips and beginning to lick, bite, suck, and nip at the sensitive skin. You moaned out his name, the perfect mix of pain and pleasure making you feel like you could cum on the spot. Your painted fingernails began tugging his brunette locks, messing up his perfectly styled hair, but he didn't seem to mind.
After giving your right nipple the same amount of attention, he pulled away and demanded, "Get on yer knees."
You immediately got down on your knees in front of him, his bulge now face-to-face with you. While unbuckling his black belt and pushing his pants and underwear down his legs, he grumbled, "Really gonna fuckin' regret not pickin' me after I'm done wit' ya."
He was huge. He definitely was the biggest you've ever seen. He was so thick and his tip peaked out from under his foreskin, bright red and oozing precum. Your mouth watered as you admired him before you were broken out of your trance by his accent, "Be a good girl and wrap those pretty lips 'round me."
You instantly obeyed and wrapped your hand around his length, immediately taking him in. You wasted no time, bobbing your head back and forth against him, looking up at him innocently through your mascara-coated eyelashes.
He let out of groan, throwing his head back, "Oh fuck."
He grabbed your long, curled hair between his hands and gathered it into a ponytail, lifting it up out of your face. You continued bobbing your head against him, sucking gently at his throbbing tip each time you came up, palms pumping what your mouth wasn't currently focused on.
His hands soon let your hair fall down to your back again, moving to press them against each side of your face to hold you still, "Stop movin'. 'm gonna fuck yer mouth and den you'll really be wishin' ya said me name up dere."
"Mmm, punish me," you smirked.
"Jesus Christ," he breathed out.
He immediately began thrusting his hips, his member moving in and out of your mouth. His tip hit the back of your throat with each entrance and you began to gag on him. Your eyes watered and moans fell from both yours and Niall's lips.
Filthy words left his mouth as he felt his orgasm begin to rise, "Look at cha. Look so fuckin' sexy like dis; gaggin' on me cock, lettin' me use ya like the good girl ya are. I know ya love dis. Such a dirty girl. I bet yer fuckin' soaked right now all 'cause of me."
He wasn't wrong, you were dripping for him. Even though your vision was blurry, you could see the way his jaw was slack, eyebrows furrowed as he watched you. Sweat began to seep through his tank top and you couldn't remember the last time a man turned you on as much as Niall was right now.
Your hands wrapped around his thighs to keep you grounded, nails digging into his skin, for sure leaving marks for him to notice tomorrow morning. The curls lining his pelvis tickled your nose when you took him in full and your throat tightened each time you gagged around him, sending him into a moaning mess. His member was coated with your slick saliva, making it that much easier for him to move in and out of your mouth.
"So hot seein' ya like that. 'm fuckin' dat pretty voice outta ya. Won't ever be able t' say anyone's name but mine after 'm done withcha."
Your eyes continued to water every time you gagged on him, tears rolling down your cheeks and your mascara beginning to crease under your eyes. You were throbbing for him, needing some sort of relief. You were sat on your knees so you adjusted yourself slightly so the heel of your foot was placed right against your clothed center. You subtly ground your hips against your heel, the pressure on your throbbing clit being just enough for tension to be lifted.
It wasn't much longer until you felt him begin to twitch in your mouth before he pulled out abruptly, painfully groaning, "Fuck, okay, 'm gonna cum. Needa be in ya."
You stood back up and immediately pressed your lips against his, letting him taste himself on your tongue. You whimpered desperately against him, gripping him tightly, "I need you so bad. I want you t' fuck me so hard."
"Ya know I fuckin' will. 'm gonna fuck ya so hard ya won't be able t' walk tomorrow mornin'," he growled.
You moaned at his words, your lips moving sloppily against his. He pressed you up against the wall again, grabbing your hands that were tugging his hair and pinning them above your head. He held both of your wrists in one hand, the other hand sliding down your body. His fingers dipped into your panties and slipped through your folds, feeling how wet he made you.
"Yer drenched, babe. Drippin' down me fingers."
The pet name he called you sent tingles down your spine and you let out a desperate whimper. You would've been embarrassed at how helpless you sounded but you were so turned on nothing else in the world mattered but him. With his one free hand, he pushed your panties down your smooth legs, letting them pool at your feet before you kicked them off, "Who made ya dis wet, huh?"
"You did," you hummed softly, eyes fluttering shut in anticipation for what's to come next.
"What was dat?" he egged on, fingers sliding up and down your slit to spread your wetness.
"You, Niall!" you moaned, "Fuck, you did."
"Damn right I did," he smirked smugly.
He easily slipped two fingers into your entrance, thrusting them in and out of you. You let out a pornographic moan at the relief, head falling back against the wall and hips bucking up into his hand. He curled his fingers up and wriggled them around, feeling every inch of you. He found that special spot inside of you, just under where your clit is located and your back arched in response. He rubbed over that spot over and over again and you knew it wouldn't be long until you were screaming his name.
His lips attacked your jaw and neck, nipping and sucking at that skin, being sure to leave marks. He began to thrust his fingers in and out of you, his pace quickening with each thrust and you couldn't stop the moans leaving your lips. The sound of your wetness filled the room along with Niall's raspy voice against the skin of your neck, "Gotta getcha nice and ready fer me, huh? 'm gonna stretch ya out real good in just a minute. Best fuck you'll ever have, I can guarantee dat."
His fingers continued to move in and out of you and the knot in your stomach tightened and tightened. He could feel your walls clench around him and your wrists straining against his hands still pinning you against the wall.
"'m gonna cum, oh my god, 'm so close," you whimpered.
Not even a full second later, you felt empty, your high instantly fading. He had slipped his fingers out of you and let go of your wrists. Before you even had time to complain, he ordered, "Go t' the couch and get on yer hands and knees."
You immediately obeyed, getting comfortable on the couch, and waiting impatiently for him. He slipped off his shoes, stepped out of the pool of his pants around his ankles, and pulled off his tank top so you both were now completely naked and exposed to one another.
"Do we need a condom?" he asked.
"No, I have an IUD," you replied.
"Fuckin' perfect," he groaned.
Getting on his knees behind you, he lined himself up with your entrance. You let out a whimper as he slid in, filling you up completely. He was huge. It took you a minute to adjust to him but once you did, you were in pure bliss. He wasted no time and began moving in and out of you at a fast pace, his hips smacking against yours and echoing throughout the room.
"Fuck, yer fuckin' tight," he grunted, fingertips digging into the skin of your hips as he watched himself move in and out of you, his member glistening with your arousal, "Haven't ever been properly fucked before, have ya?"
"Ni-Niall," you moaned, your breath hitching in your throat as you clenched around him, feeling every inch of him against your walls.
"Dat's right, say my name. Fuckin' regretting not sayin' it up on stage now aren't ya?"
You moaned out his name louder this time, feeling your orgasm begin to rise again. The sound of your wetness and his hips slapping against yours reverberated off the dressing room walls. He felt so good inside of you. You were dreaming of this the second you saw him turn his chair around for you in that sexy outfit and smug look on his face.
With each thrust of his hips, his swollen tip hit your spot perfectly, sending pleasure throughout your body. You clenched around him, feeling every ridge and vein on his member against your slick walls. You were supporting yourself on your elbows, your ass in the air for him. He had the perfect view of you. The arch of your back and the thickness of your ass were all he had in his mind at the moment. That and the fact that this sexy girl didn't choose to be on his team.
"Ya regrettin' not pickin' me now?"
"Oh god, Niall, yes," you moaned.
"Bet ya are."
His tip continued to reach that special spot inside of you, going so deep with every thrust of his hips. You were in pure bliss right now. A man has never made you feel this good in your entire life. You had expected Niall to be good in bed, but you never expected it to be this good. Your body was on fire, he made you feel so good, you couldn't help the moans that left your lips. You didn't care who was listening on the other side of the door, all you were capable of doing was screaming his name.
He leaned down slightly, his back pressed against yours as his right arm slid around your waist and held you against him. His thrusts became shorter at the new position, his tip now slightly rubbing that special spot inside of you.
"None of those other judges can make ya feel as good as I'm makin' ya feel right now, huh?" he hummed into your ear.
"Mm mm," you whimpered, "You feel so good. You're so deep."
"Can ya feel me in yer stomach?"
"Oh fuck, y-yes, yes," you breathed out, struggling to let the words leave your lips as your breath hitched in your throat.
His lips began attacking your neck, nipping and sucking anywhere they could reach. You let out a pathetic moan when he kissed just below your ear; that was your sweet spot. He began sucking and nipping extra at that spot, causing chills to run down your spine. His lips were wet and slightly cold against your burning skin. You could feel his warm breath fanning across your ear, causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin.
As he sat up again, he slipped out of you. Grabbing onto your hips, he comfortably repositioned himself before lining his tip up with your dripping entrance and immediately pounding back into you. His pace was fast and hard, desperately chasing both of your highs. Your orgasm was just around the corner. You knew it wouldn't be long until you were releasing all over him, screaming his name for the entire arena to hear.
"Should've picked me, huh?" he hummed, lifting his hand from your hip and landing it across the curve of your ass in a solid spank.
"Mhm," you whimpered.
"Say it."
"Fuck, Niall, yes! I should've picked you. You're the b-best judge up there and it was st-stupid for me to not pick you. Fuck, you feel so good." You struggled to get your words out, the pleasure being too much for you and your breath hitching in your throat once again.
"'bout t' make ya cum, aren't I?"
"Yes, oh my god, please don't stop, 'm so close," you whimpered, desperate for a release.
"Tell me how good I am and I'll let ya cum," he grunted.
"So good, Niall. No one else has ever made me feel this good. You're so fuckin' big, fill me up perfectly. I never want you t' stop. Fuck, it feels s-so good." Moans, whimpers, and praises continued to spill from your lips. His thrusts got quicker and harder with each compliment that left your mouth and you knew it would only be seconds before you were releasing on him.
You reached down underneath your body and pressed your fingers to your clit, rubbing it side to side sloppily to bring you to the edge. Your moans got louder and more pornographic as the knot in your stomach unraveled and your orgasm took over your entire body in waves of pleasure. Your face was buried into the cushions, muffling the sounds you were creating. You could see stars behind your eyelids and your toes curled against his calves in pleasure.
Your high slowly began dropping and you could feel him twitch inside of you before filling you up completely with his warm release. A new wave of pleasure washed through your body and you shivered in response. Sexy groans fell from his lips as he carried himself through his orgasm, soon both of you coming down from the high with heavy breaths.
You both collapsed on the couch, his chest resting against your back before you whined, his body weight being too much. He slid in behind you, spooning you as you both dwelled in the aftermaths of your orgasms.
It wasn't long before you spoke up, breaking the comfortable silence, "That was the best sex I've ever had."
"Well duh," he replied.
He got up from the couch, walked towards the rack that held all his clothes, and began to get dressed in a fresh outfit; a lot more casual than the one he wore on stage.
There was a cute grin on his pink lips while he spoke his next words, making you roll your eyes teasingly, "Should've picked me."
#my writing#one direction#niall#niall horan#smut#writing#fanfic#fanfictions#one direction smut#one direction writing#one direction fanfic#one direction fanfiction#one direction oneshot#one direction one shot#one direction one shots#one shot#niall writing#niall smut#niall fanfic#niall fanfiction#niall one shot#niall horan smut#niall horan writing#niall horan fanfic#niall horan fanfiction#niall horan one shot#niall horan one shots#the voice#niall horan the voice#the voice niall horan
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Reaper 15
and they're back hehehe lots of lore in this chapter and an admittance of a secret.
Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writing
WC: 9.1k
Warnings: talks of drug addiction, violence, and usual reaper warnings
----------------------------------------------------
Bunny woke up in an unfamiliar house but in familiar arms. Strapped to his chest, she admired his sleeping face just a bit.
How he glowed under the morning light. It was overcast, sure, but there was enough that cast a shadow over his cheeks from his eyelashes. There was delicacy and gentleness in his features as he slept, no hit of unhappiness. He was content and calm, face relaxed to a point she hadn’t seen.
Really, he had been the softest he had ever been the night before. Kisses and cuddles and completely melting as her fingers ran through his hair. It was surprisingly smooth, the curls being wrung around her finger as she followed the curl pattern and smiled as he nuzzled into her belly like a purring kitten.
A baby lion, maybe.
They’d fallen asleep kissing, Harry quietly brushing his fingers over her features and complimenting or commenting on obscure things. Marks and a scar she’d gotten from a tussle with a coffee table.
After a little obsessing over how she had managed to see such a powerful person at their most vulnerable, she slipped downstairs in one of his sweatshirts and began to prepare a breakfast.
As much as she wanted to stay wrapped in him- she knew she had to do this for him. She hadn’t made him something for breakfast since they were at the clubhouse and it was his favorite meal.
The kitchen was a dream to work in, allowing herself to imagine this was her home. The cabinets organized just how she liked them, she had a window cracked open to let in some air, she could hear sound of bird chirping, and the coffee machine grinding beans. It was nothing short of perfect.
Harry on the other hand was not at all happy to wake up to an empty bed. Morning cuddles had become his favorite thing and when he didn’t get them? Well, he got grumpy. He had been looking forward to waking up beside her in his own bed, there was nothing that compared to the feeling. She was always so pliable, so warm and inviting, had always allowed him to nuzzle his face into whatever body part he could reach and relax into her natural scent.
Not this morning though.
At the very least he was pleased to not have woken up with any anxiety about where she could be, knowing that she was absolutely in the kitchen. The smell of breakfast seeping through the bedroom door gave it all away. Getting up, Harry made the bed and tugged on some sweats before making his way downstairs— he needed to be close to her again.
Padding down the steps, whatever leftover subconscious anxiety had left him as he heard commotion coming from the kitchen. He took his time, lazing into the kitchen where she was humming to herself.
He didn’t recognize the song, no, but he did recognize this scene. A part of his dreams. His sweatshirt hanging just past her ass, her hair piled up on her head, her hips moving to an invisible beat while she got lost in her own art. Cooking had always been her favorite thing, the multiple times she’d made dinner for her whole family including him as a younger girl reminding him of just how talented she had always been.
The only misses she ever had were very hard biscuits that one time and a few experiments gone wrong.
She looked so peaceful in his kitchen. Their kitchen, really. The realization he came to last night had silently been the heaviest thing on his mind, pushing in his throat to try and speak about it.
To ask her if they had a real shot because he was already far fucking gone and he needed to see this view every morning or he may die.
Unable to keep hands to himself, he approached and wrapped his arms around her body while shushing her as she squealed, sighing against her ear while she tried to calm her surprised heart rate.
“You know… m’not a fan of waking up without you in bed with me. But…” his hand slipped under her thick material of the hoodie, settling on her tummy. “This is the second best option.”
“Fuck, you scared me.” She breathed out shakily, though her breath quickly turned into a quiet moan as he slowly kissed up her neck. The action wasn’t necessarily sexual, but it felt so good paired with his warm hands on her skin.
“M’sorry baby,” He rasped, nose brushing over the spots he had just kissed. Her body moved around quite a bit as she threw stuff from the counter on to the stove. He refused to let go, instead moving along with her, his movements flowing with hers. She’d taken away his ability to do all this from the comfort of their bed, so now she’d have to deal with him in her space while cooking breakfast.
A familiar warmth was bubbling up inside her at his actions, not wanting to question what had gotten him into such a good mood. He’d never been so forward in showing his affection, not unless it lead to sex. Of course even this touch was getting her excited, the thought of him wanting to be close to her was enough.
“I’m making a full English. I’m not sure I’m qualified, but you tell me if it meets up to your standards.” Bunny spent her morning reading up on recipes to make sure she got it just right.
Harry stared at her for a few moments, the side of her face visible to him as he sighed and brushed his lips back against her cheek. “Anything you make will be perfect for me, but I can’t lie it makes me slightly horny that you’d do that for me.” It was said with a smile and a chuckle but the idea of her going out of her way to learn recipes for him and wanted his seal of approval meant a lot to him.
Was this what a love boner was? He’d have to look it up.
“Good.” Y/N chirped, turning around in his arms once the stovetop was safe to leave the attention, wrapping arms around his neck and pulling his mouth down to her own.
Harry was quick to respond, a surprised yet pleased hum vibrating against her mouth as hands slipped down to grab at her ass. It fit perfect in his palms, the soft squeeze making her giggle into the kiss as he moved them so he could press her up against the side of the counter.
“M’serious, baby.” His voice rasped, pulling back just a little bit. “When you do shit like this… it makes me want to be inside of you. Have t’stop being so sweet.”
“Well I don’t wanna do that.” She smirked, again wondering if there was something she’d done to make him act like this. It was as if he was a whole other guy, but, he was still her Harry. “Guess I’ll just have to deal with the consequences.” She purred, cupping his jaw in her clean hand before sealing their lips together in a kiss.
“What do you wanna do today, handsome?” She asked lovingly, brushing her thumb over his bottom lip before moving it to fix his hair. He looked so refreshed. Clearly, getting enough sleep and staying fed and hydrated does wonders for everyone. The morning light made him look all the more vibrant and she swore her pupils are dilating at the vision before her.
He leaned forward to steal another kiss, “I’m thinking we can stay home again today. Can’t be bothered to go out, we’re here for a while anyway. Figured we could find something to do. I’ve got plenty of games here ya know?” Harry wasn’t sure how she felt about board games, but he was a huge fan. Growing up, it was one of the only things he had access too and therefore it made him really good at it. It was also a great bonding tool and maybe something to drive their competitive nature.
“You do?” Y/N perked up, looking at him in surprise. That was not something that she suspected of him. Of course she knew he had his hobbies, but this especially made her more interested in his little layers.
She knew she was under-informed when it came to the tidbits that made Harry, Harry. This only perked her up, made her a little more hungry for information that had to do with the man attached to her body. They had been so intimate, so close, and yet she had so much to learn about the man in front of her. Like the fact he enjoyed games.
“There’s… there’s a ton of stuff I don't know about you, huh?” Her smile was tiny, looking up at the man with curiosity lit in her eyes. “I think… we should play games, and you should tell me more about you. The little things. Like your favorite games and memories and all of that.”
“No one knows much about me, and I keep it that way on purpose,” He could tell that she felt a certain type of way about knowing so little about him. “But if there is anyone who should know, it’s you. I want you to know.” It meant a lot for him to say that but he figured there was no one on this planet who would get it better than she did.
Was there really that much to be afraid of when she had seen him with blood on his hands? Seen him coming off an adrenaline high that only she could cure? Giving a person that much power over him used to terrify him, but as he came to realize last night, he wouldn’t mind giving that power to her.
Her insides warmed at his words, taking her turn in pecking his lips before moving to check on the food. “Yeah? Then it’s settled. You go pick the games. Breakfast is almost done, just gotta get the eggs and toast going.”
She’d made beans in a sauce from scratch despite the recipe demanding hienz canned ones, non streaky bacon, fried tomatoes, and finally the eggs cooked in the bacon fat. She was starting to understand the appeal. No blood pudding for them though, no appetizing even to her gourmet tasted buds.
Harry had walked into the room over, bending over as he looked inside a cabinet. Her eyes admired his back, despite her marks very obviously on the skin. He was so broad and strong and it made her want to purr. How did she end up with such a pretty, scary man? His softness reserved just for her, showing her the games he had hidden in the house.
“Most of these are new because I’m usually alone.” He said over his shoulder. “So we won’t have to deal with missing pieces.”
“You really never had anyone here?” She asked in response, feeling a little ache in her chest. The idea of Harry being all alone when he was here at all hurt her heart. Maybe he preferred solitude but she didn’t like it either way, knowing that humans naturally crave companionship. Especially when he was sweet enough to buy games to play. As if he wanted to be prepared for a day like this.
“Not really. Lucy, TJ. That’s it.” He said simply. His mum didn’t know where his place was, and that was by design- but that was something to unpack later on.
“And you’re saying no one back home knows this place exists either?” She was actually happy that this managed to work out. A place where they truly couldn’t be tracked or found. Plating their breakfast, she laughed to herself, realizing they fully were off the grid. “I never thought I’d be someone who wanted to live secluded where no one could reach me… but this really isn’t that bad.”
Maybe it had something to do with how stunning this house was, the unlimited access to resources, the sexy 24 hour security guard that had been keeping her safe. As someone who used to live on her phone, it felt nice to actually be in each moment that passed. It made time go by slower, she liked it a lot.
“Yeah. It’s not that I don’t trust them, but I also don’t.” He laughed at the thought, “Everyone has their secrets and with the life I live back home, I knew I’d need somewhere like this. A place to go in case I got caught.” Though, the likely hood of that was small, it was always good to have a back up plan. “So yeah, I didn’t tell anyone. Don’t think they need to know.“
It was bittersweet, knowing the real reason he didn’t tell anyone- but she couldn’t help but hurt for him. That he had to have a backup plan to begin with. That he didn’t trust a lot of people, almost none really, and that he was so adamant about being secretive.
It was also flattering to know that she was one of the few, if only one, that he trusted with this sort of information. Harry’s trust was very obviously hard to obtain, so she must have been doing something right.
“They don’t need to know. In fact… I think we can have some secrets if our own.” She nodded, puckering her lips again to be given another kiss from the man who seemed all too happy to give them.
It was exciting to be told a secret, but being brought to one? That was next level in the Harry Scale Of Trust. It made her feel a little giddy. “How many secrets do you have, then? If you had to guess a number?”
Setting the box of scrabble and monopoly box, he thought about the question intently. “I mean, real secrets? I don’t think I couldn’t count… there are things your brother doesn’t even know about me and he’s my best mate.” Harry shrugged as he thought about the question some more.
“S’not something I do— talking about myself, it’s just unnecessary.” He felt like anything he had to share would just make people pity him or see all of his weaknesses. That was something he tried his very hardest to avoid. “TJ knows a few cause he has his own fair share of secrets like mine… guess we’re bonded because of ‘em.”
Looking down at the plate of food she made had him realizing this conversation wouldn’t be as easy as he thought it would be. However, if she wanted to know, he would tell her anything. Even if it made him uncomfortable. This was something Bunny had noticed as she dug into her own breakfast.
“Well… if it would make it easier to share, you can ask me anything you’d like to know about me. I have some secrets of my own. Know you’ve known me for a long time, but I think you’d be surprised too.” Her parents had been so protective that she’d learn how to hide things and be sneaky. It was the only way she could protect her own self from the projection her family put on to her.
Harry would happily eat up any morsel of information when it came to Bunny. He loved knowing about her, learning every little bit and bob that he could harvest from her brilliant brain. The free access to ask questions and having the perfect day to do so without interruption was how dream.
“I mean… there’s a lot I’d love to learn about you. You’re fascinating.” And he utterly adored her. “But I suppose you can ask anything. I don’t feel the want to hide things from you but sometimes things catch me off guard and become hard to talk about. I can… I’ll let you know if it’s too much.”
He didn’t want her to feel freaked out if he rejected a question after attempting an answer, mostly because it was not her fault. There was a lot of shit that happened to him and he needed to be good. To be relaxed, and try and open up as much as he can if he was going to try and assume the role of the man in her life. He loved her, and he wanted her to love him back as authentically as she could.
Bunny nodded, deciding she needed to be aware of how his body language changed throughout their conversation. She realized that a lot of Harry’s past was a touchy subject, the few things she’d learned about him through Sterling weren’t exactly pleasant.
“Can you tell me about how you and Sterling became friends?” She was genuinely curious. It seemed like he appeared one day and never left his side and in turn, never left hers. Of course, she didn’t mind, but the two seemed to have an instant connection and she wondered what that was about.
He smiled brightly at the memory, shaking his head because he remembered being such a little shit back then. “Well, Viper and your Dad— they sorta forced us into it.” He started, realizing he needed to give her some more context to fully understand.
“I joined the club at 16 cause I killed a guy outside a bar.” Harry spoke as he shoveled some beans into his mouth, “Still think he deserved it. He drugged a girls cup.” The thought remained in his mind. He never liked the idea of innocent people getting taken advantage of. It was definitely part of his own trauma, but they’d get to that.
Bunny seemed shocked to find out he killed someone at 16 years old, but he was so desensitized to these things, she doubts he understood how young he really was. “Was that the first time you killed someone?” She asked out of pure curiosity, relaxing a little when he nodded a yes.
“Yeah— Viper and your dad told me that I was too young to be getting involved in stuff like this and that they could help me get my life on track if I listened to them…. I didn’t really want to do it, but they said they had a few other boys they were training and offered me a place to stay and food so I was in.”
They’d also been both horrified and impressed with the lack of emotion that covered his face. Blood splattered across his cheekbones, thinner than what would be preferred, he stared down at the twitching body until it went limp and simply shrugged when they’d asked if he was alright.
Harry didn’t feel anything. Before, he’d felt a rage that made him act. A rage so dark and blinding he could rarely recall the thumps of his fists on the guy, telling the girl to run as she stumbled back inside with her friends- and his knife sliding out of his pocket.
He had been quicker than he would have been now- but he had been caught. The large hands of Copper lifting him up by essentially his scruff and asking what the hell he was doing, the hushed whispers of the two men as Harry’s foot kicked the body and his blank stare at the leather jackets when they told him to follow them.
“Why were you even there to begin with? I’m assuming at 16… you probably shouldn’t have been at a bar.” She asked gently, looking at him with cautioned curiosity. She hurt for him, despite that tiny piece of her being proud he cared to defend a woman, it was still a bit odd to hear him actually admit those things.
A snort came from the larger man, making him shake his head. “Fakes, babe. S’easy as shit, especially being as close to Vegas as we live. Paid a bit, but it was worth it. Now I’d spit in someone face for demanding that much for a fake but at the time it worked out fine.”
Bunny laughed at his comment, knowing she too had once tried to get a fake ID but inevitably decided against it. For the price of course, it was far more than she could afford at the time and well… Sterling would have her had her head.
“But Sterling was always there. The first time I met him he was also in a bit of trouble.” He shook his head at the memory, “I forgot what for, but they made us clean the clubhouse toilets together. It was a bonding experience.” The smell was something Harry could never erase from his mind. He had seen and smelled some horrible things in his time on earth, but that took the cake.
“He said he liked the way I talked. Most people made fun of me at school and shit but he always said he wished he sounded like me. Still mocks me for it now, the fucker.” He realized in that moment that he missed his brother. While he understood why he took off, he would be the only one who would know what to do. He was surprised he didn’t come back the moment he found out Bunny was in trouble, but it seems he must have gotten caught up else where.
She smiled sadly, knowing that she wasn’t the only one missing him. Her sadness was sort of outdone by the anger at the moment, knowing that if he was around that Harry wouldn’t have had such a stress on his shoulders but… things did happen for a reason. Harry stayed around, he protected, he mourned, he kept her safe while he had run. Little did he know, there was no way to outrun his emotions. She’d know.
“I love the way you talk, for the record.” Her foot nudged his own, giving him a smile. “But sounds like him. He’s always been a bit of a little shit. I wish he’d kept in contact when he left.”
Her form deflated slightly, and Harry could see the thoughts racing in her head. His girl was extremely easy for him to read and he knew more than well when her mood had shifted, making him sigh. There was an understanding to why he left, but Harry wouldn’t have chosen that route. A lot of things piled on Sterling at once and he was well aware of the heaviness that it must have put him through.
“I know, darling. But he’ll come back. If there’s an emergency he’s got a way to contact us. Dunno why exactly he chose the way he did but, I trust him enough to know that he did it for a reason.” He paused, trying to lighten their mood. “Besides, doubt he’d be keen t’let you go off with me. If he was around we’d have to sneak around.”
It made her think. Would they have even gotten together if her brother hadn’t left?
“Do you think…” she paused, looking at her hands for a moment. “Do you think we’d still end up together? If he was around? Would you have gone for me anyways?”
The question sat hanging in the air for a moment before Harry grasped it, rubbing under his nose in thought. “I do. I think… you would have worn me down. Tempted me another way. I was staying away from you because it was hard to not think of you in an inappropriate way once you’d come back. You weren’t a little girl. You were grown, a woman, and you’d made everything shift when you sat on my lap and tried to…. I dunno, seduce me?” He laughed through his nose. “I felt guilty for thinking about you that way but you’re not just my best friend’s little sister. You’re a grown woman, determined as hell, and I had a feeling the dam would break at some point.”
“I’m happy it did.” Bunny smiled, a glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes. “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to come from it. I knew we’d get along, but you really did surprise me.” She had never seen him interact with women so she was really taking a chance in getting involved with him and potentially making things awkward.
“Well,” Harry let out a chuckle, shaking his head to himself. “I know I surprised myself. Didn’t expect to feel this way, I guess there is a first for everything… I’m sure you know how special you are to me by now— but I didn’t think I had it in me either.” It was something he thought about often. He wondered if she hadn’t put her cards on the table if he would have ever put himself out there to find someone special.
“I made a habit not to sleep with the same woman twice.” He thought she should hear about it straight from the source. “So I guess you can say I’ve never been in a relationship. Never really wanted one with all the shit that goes down in the club. Saved me the headache.” The two of them were more than aware of how intense his feelings got, it wasn’t for the faint of heart.
“You’re worth more than every second of mental torture I’ve been through.”
Bunny softened at that, the pure genuine words making her want to say ‘fuck it’ and toss the game to the side. Getting to this gooey, uncovered layer of Harry was so surprising. To feel how he thought she was worth every bit of it? Her heart swelled.
So she followed her desires. Picking herself up, she rounded the table and placed herself on top of him, straddling his lap. Her cool fingers tipped his chin up and brought their lips together, and Harry was more than happy to respond.
One arm wrapping around her arm and pulling her close while the other threaded into her hair, he felt his heart thudding in his chest. It was hard to admit these things, to put himself on the line and show that delicate vulnerability he had been programmed to hide away. He hadn’t been able to be soft, to show weakness, to be afraid or sad. Bunny let him. She allowed him to just… be. That was more valuable than anything in the world. His hand tightened slightly in her hair, pressing for a deeper kiss and trying to channel how much it actually meant to him for her to be here, for her to carry his weight on her shoulders, that she trusted him enough to protect her.
Pulling away with a soft click of their lips, the corner of his mouth lifted as he moved to brush some of the wetness from underneath hers. Tending to her delicately with his rough fingertips, showing the vast differences between them both and yet, they fit like puzzle pieces. “Yeah? S’that how it is, baby?” He asked in a hushed voice, knowing she was trying to convey how she felt through the kiss as well.
“Yeah just like that,” Her tone was sweeter than it was when she normally spoke those words. Allowing her hands to hands to rest against his neck she kept his eyes locked on hers, admiring the stars that seemed to have formed within them. “Still feel like it wasn’t enough, but we have a game to play.”
Pressing a few more sweet kisses to his lips and face she reluctantly moved to sit across from him. It didn’t feel right sitting so far from him, even if it was just a few feet.
“Don’t distract me with your sweetness.” She squinted, her competitive nature aiding in keeping the conversation light. Her goal was to keep Harry comfortable as she dug deeper in his mind, wanted him to feel reassured and confident that there was little he could do to change her mind.
“We were talking secrets… care to share another or is there something you’d like me to spill?” Bunny raised a brow, placing some tiles on to the board.
“Oh, there’s plenty I want you to spill.” He laughed. It was a bit odd for him to feel almost disappointed that she went back to her spot, his arms and lap feeling surprisingly empty. He wanted her closer, snuggled up on him all the time. Perhaps it was a him problem.
“When did you truly start to have your crush on me?” He questioned, looking at the tiles and then back at her. She was truly so distracting, he felt like suddenly the game didn’t matter. He was going to let her win regardless, considering he was too distracted by the topics at hand.
“Oh, god.” She groaned. “Always. I used to get so upset when you’d treat me like a kid and ruffle my hair. I wanted you to see me as a woman. I know now, obviously, you were just being appropriate and it makes me feel better than you were like that now that I know better but… yeah, always.” Her smile faded a bit but it stayed small on her lips as she remembered back then.
“You were always attractive. Even when you were scrawnier and had only a few tattoos. Felt like every time you came over you had more and more and you kept letting your hair grow… you looked more wild. Rugged. And then when I came home from college and I saw you at the party that night- I told you, I don’t know what exactly my plan was, but I knew I wanted you. You looked so good, and I was jealous because so many people talked about you and how they wanted to be your ‘pick of the night.’” She narrowed her eyes at him. It was in the past, but it still made her tummy hurt to think about other people and him. “They didn’t know you like I did. Didn’t know your sushi preferences and pizza toppings and that you really thrive when you’re on your bike. They saw you physically, the mysterious persona….” There was a pause. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s attractive. But there was so much more to you than just that. It bugged a little, I guess. Having people talk about you like a sex object. The reason I was so attracted to you was because I felt like I knew you, you were safe with a tiny edge of the danger of my brother… but you’d take care of me.” She looked down at the tiles with a smile. Harry more than took care of her now.
“But yeah.” Breaking out of her memories, she returned to his eyes. So intense, but fond. “Always had a crush. I wanted you to like me, always.”
“Knew that.” Harry smirked, feeling what he could only assume are butterflies at the idea of her always wanting to be his. She always was, even if he didn’t know it yet. “I should rephrase… What was the moment you realized it was possible?” He always wondered at what point of their little arrangement did it become more than just a deal. The topic of her affection towards him was one that always lifted his spirits, reminded him that there was hope for a self proclaimed beast like himself to find a beauty of his own.
She felt shy, remembering their weed induced talk in his old room at the club. How they never really got to finish the conversation but finished nonetheless. With heated cheeks she cleared her throat, fiddling with the tiles displayed on her stand.
“In the kitchen, after our first trip to the grocery store.” How could she forget? Him pressing her into the counter, daring to see if she could handle his proximity. “You we’re looking at me in a way you hadn’t before… though now I know it’s the look you give me before you’re about to fuck me.” Her eyes flickered up to his to see him looking at her with the same look she’s described.
“Was that it?” A smug look adorned his face as he wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb. “Thought you were uncomfortable with me touching you, but we got home and I realized you were just squirmy. Still are.” He was teasing, taking his turn before leaning back to sink into the couch. “Love when you get like that. S’like you want me so bad you can barely keep it together. M’always gonna give it to you baby.”
She knew he was right. She was an open book for him, an easy way in. He had the key to unlock the most needy parts of her, even though lately he had been the one feeling it. Remembering that was so clear to him, now with the knowledge he had- she was gagging for it. His sweet girl was just unsure how to ask for it.
“I know I made you wait at first but… M’sure you can understand that part of that was to make sure you didn’t just act impulsively. Think subconsciously I knew….” He took a breath. “Knew that once I actually had you, took you properly, I wasn’t going to want anyone else. So I made you wait until you were sure you wanted it.” And god, did she. He still remembers her breathy moans and how she had squirmed under him, desperately trying to get closer.
“Y’know it’s serious, yeah?” He wanted to reiterate it. “You’re mine and m’not giving you up. Doesn’t matter if Sterling wants to try and beat my ass, doesn’t matter what anyone says. You belong with me, to me.” His eyes shone, an intense look in the green that he knew she could see.
“I do now.” She teased though his words shot sparks throughout her body. Knowing that Sterling would definitely have an issue until he saw just how happy the two of them were together, the same was TJ reacted when he saw them. “I’m in your secret lair aren’t I?”
Bunny got up to grab her coffee, bringing his over in case he changed his mind. The conversation was far more riveting than the game though, wasn’t sure why they thought they’d play when they were each others greatest entertainment.
“And another thing for the record, I don’t care what Sterling says. I won’t let him beat your ass for stepping up and being there in his absence. He can scream and throw punches, but it is my choice. Our choice. It’s his own fault he missed seeing it unfold.” It was then that she realized she was holding a lot more resentment towards her brother than she thought.
“Do you think it’s fucked up of me to be mad that he left? Know between Dad and Christina he couldn’t have felt good but is there something else I’m missing? To up and leave town? To leave me? He was like a best friend to me too… Couldn’t he step up and be a man? Know that dad would have wanted him to be there…”
Harry sighed at this, getting up from his seat to join her. He’d pulled her legs over his lap, hand spread against her thigh to act as a comfort for both of them.
“S’okay to be mad. He’s just…” Harry wanted to protect his friend but knew that his secrets would catch up to him. She deserved an explanation, even if it would mean he’d chew his ass out later.
“Your brother and myself both have had our fair share of struggles and we cope with them in not so healthy ways. S’why we’re so close… Violence, sex, drugs…” He began rubbing her thigh with his thumb, soothing her and bracing her for the information he was about to give. “He wasn’t really up for violence after the incident, too heart broken to think of fucking anyone else…”
He could see the wheels turning in her head, there was only one option left.
“He got hooked, Bun…. And it wasn’t pretty. If he’d stayed there he would have died.”
Her face paled slightly. This was something she did not know.
Something she was horrified that she’d missed, in all honesty. How could she not have realized? Her hand tightened, squeezing in a fist as she looked down at his hand on her thigh. “Are you serious?” She knew he wasn’t joking. Harry would never joke about that, not with her.
“M’sorry, sweetheart.” He felt his own stomach twist, seeing the devastation. “S’why he went. He couldn’t stand the thought of you or your mum finding out, or have you either be affected.” It was a heavy burden for him to carry, the secret he never wanted her to know- but if Bunny was his, he wasn’t about to keep that from her. Especially seeing how torn up she was about it. It hurt her and he could see it, but perhaps she could understand now.
“So-so he went away to get clean? Is he in a rehab?” She asked, a little shocked but wanting her answers. His soothing palm continued to rub up and down her leg, a look of concern on his face.
“Dunno. He said he would. He calls the clubhouse every other months just to make sure we know he’s alive but he leaves messages. Usually it just says ‘all good’ and hangs up. It’s from payphones. We could track them, we have, but they bounce around. Dunno if it’s him trying to throw us off a trail but, the life wasn’t something he needed at the moment. At least not here. I know he’s hung around with a different chapter of a club, some who had different dealings than us, but he’s staying a lone wolf for now. I know the bare minimum. I wish I had more to offer you.” He murmured, trying to soothe her the best he could.
“No- no, I’m glad you told me. At least… I know you can’t tell me a lot of the club stuff, but I’m glad you told me about this. I’m still upset with him- but at least now I can understand better.”’she sniffed, trying not to let her eyes burn.
Her poor brother, navigating that alone. It also popped another question into her head. “Is… uh, is that why you kind of stopped all the other stuff? You only really smoke now… is that why?”
He nodded his head slowly. Feeling his own body begin to stiffen as all the memories of his own experiences came flooding back.
“It was uh… Fuck I hate talking about shit.” It was the only thing that made him feel dirty. Sure, blood of rapist and traffickers and fucked up individuals was dirty but not to like this. “Here in the UK it’s easy to get anything you want, it’s expected it’s the one thing that class can’t divide. My mum, she’s been hooked as long as I can remember.” Harry always wondered why he too went down the same path, wondered how he ended up that way. Thought it was genetic but he knew it was more than that.
“Guess when I started I was curious about what could have been so good about it that you’d forget about your child.” He shook his head at that, “TJ and I bonded over that. Guess we both wanted to see what it was about… and fuck did I love coke.” He shook his head in shame. “Was fun at first, but shits expensive and doing it as often as I was comes with it’s own set of issues. Never injected anything though, had seen enough from mum to put me off for life.”
It was Bunny’s turn to soothe him, setting her mug down on the table before tugging his body to rest against hers. With his head on her chest she pressed a kiss to the crown of his head, silently confirming she was listening. Decided there wasn’t much to say, didn’t want to pity him, wanted to understand.
“Psychedelics are harmless, weed… even a bit of mdma doesn’t hurt, but there are just some things better left undiscovered. Euphoria to that degree, a clear mind, just peace… it’s a feeling people die for. The withdrawals only make you want it that much more, the relief. S’like a death wish.” He took another deep breath, focusing on the sound of her heartbeat to keep him grounded. Seeing Sterling go through withdrawals was one of the most agonizing experiences of his life. His screams, using every last bit of energy to beg him for more. To let him leave in his fragile and sweaty state. He wasn’t himself towards the end of it, Harry was glad he left.
“The first few weeks after your dad died we had a bender. Needed something to get our minds off of everything, thought it’d be harmless wasn’t anything we hadn’t done before… the clubs full of that shit. But I’d never seen your brother like that. Nothing was working, so he took matters in to his own hands.”
Harry hated it. He hated that he did that, that he hadn’t seen it. He should have been paying attention, should have been more cognizant that he was taking more than he should, that he wasn’t stopping when he was himself. Harry had a past with the drugs, he knew his limits, but Sterling had always gone easy on it. Copper didn’t do them. He was a bit straight lace besides alcohol and would probably chop a finger off of Sterling had he been alive, but he wasn’t and there was nothing stopping him anymore.
“Once I realized he had a true problem, I was sober. For me… it was a bit easier to take time off, because I’d been taking shit my whole life. I loved being high, I loved the feeling of being untouchable- but seeing what it did to him made me feel sick. Sort of like… it was my fault for doing it with him.” He still harbored that guilt to this day. Thinking of what could have been if he’d just recognized it and been even the slightest bit emotionally intelligent.
“We always smoked together, that was no big deal but he started getting into some of the harder shit. Shit I saw my mum do and I…” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I had to physically lock him away. I wouldn’t let drugs take another person’s life away. Even if he didn’t die, it steals your life. I made sure people knew that if they gave him something, I’d kill them. Brotherhood be damned. I kept him in a room of the clubhouse with Viper and made sure he had food, water, TV. The whole thing. We were… I don’t want to use the word lucky, but we caught the addiction forming and as soon as I saw what I did, I took care of it. You just lost your dad. You couldn’t lose someone else.” He knew she would be gutted. She’d always been closer with her father considering her mother worked night shifts and as lovely as she was, she was a bit too focused on work after her husband died. Bunny needed people.
“So when we finally got him to a rational state, I told him he needed to go to an actual rehab. He freaked- drove off for hours until I found him, and he told me he needed to get away. That everything there was reminding him of what made him want to use and… I don’t blame him.
Sometimes I get upset because he left you, but he left you and your Mum in my care. Though she has your step dad…" Harry didn’t like the guy. He was… something was off about him, maybe it was seeing her mother with someone else? but he didn’t have a solid reason to dislike him, so he stayed quiet about it.
“I’d been doing a good job avoiding you, actually. I felt guilty about feeling attracted to you once you’d gotten home and I hated seeing you with your little boyfriends. Made me violent. So staying away was what kept me sane- until he left. And I had t’follow you around a bit. Even if you didn’t see me, but you usually did. Scared the fuck out of me when you told me someone was stalking you. I’ve already lost Copper, and your brother was in the wind. I couldn’t let you get hurt. That’s how it started, anyways.”
It was a lot for her to take in at once, but she was taking it better than she expected. Besides the aching in her heart and pit in her stomach, the only thing she could feel was an intense surge of love. It was Harry who was always thinking of her, protecting her and those she loved. It was him who had made her feel safe and put her needs before his own.
“Thank you. For everything, Harry. I really mean it.” She whispered quietly, smoothing a hand over his hair. She didn’t want to disturb him, just squeezed his body a little tighter and wrapped her legs around him. “I-I know it wasn’t easy. Can’t begin to comprehend what it was like, don’t know if I want to I just—“ She didn’t know how else to explain it when her thoughts were going a million miles a minute. “I want you to know I’m proud of you and you’ve grown into such an incredible man… I don’t care how fucked up things you do are, you’ve a heart of gold and you’re far smarter than you give yourself credit for.” She felt like a bit of a brat now, for giving him such a hard time with things when there was so much she wasn’t aware of. So many layers to the story she hadn’t known.
“I want you to remember that, okay? No matter what happens, I want to know everything. Want to help how I can, even if it’s just to listen. I don’t want you to ever feel like you can’t trust me with something, I will always hear you out. I can’t lose you, I—“
I love you. She wanted to say.
“When Sterling comes back and we go home and all of this shit is over I want us to stick together…”
Harry hadn’t had someone tell them him they were proud of him. He’d heard an occasional ‘good job’, but he can’t remember a time where someone had genuine pride over him, and he could feel it in his bones. She meant every word. He was slightly overwhelmed, the heavy topic throwing him for a loop but it was a necessity.
“Yeah? You think I’d ever let you go?” He tipped his head up to look at her before he moved his body. “You think I give a fuck if anyone’s mad that I took what was mine? I’ve been fucked when you came along, baby. Been yours for longer than you knew, I tried to shield you from this shit- and I still will, the best I can. But… you’ve proven to me that you can handle it. You can handle me.”
Harry needed to feel a bit of control, shifting so he could pull her on top of him. He wanted to feel her weight on him, to keep her in his arms. With her, he didn’t have to be Reaper. Though that part was always there, that wasn’t what she was here for. She was here for Harry. “M’gonna take care of you. Okay? Always.” He tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. “Even if he hadn’t of told me, I would have been there for you. And m’proud of you too. Staying as strong as you have when all the shit life’s thrown at you. M’gonna get you out of this. Or we can stay here.” He brushed his finger against her nose, tracing the curve. “Can run away, live here. Just the two of us. Won’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I’ll take care of you.”
The offer was enticing. Running away? Staying here, away from everything they knew? She thinks if she had him she wouldn’t care. She could be happy here. Thoughts of opening a restaurant in London, walking the streets carefree, having Harry to come home to… a family of their own?
Was it a possible?
“Would you be happy?” She asked gently, watching his eyes for any bit of hesitation. “The club, it’s your life is it not?” Though many people wouldn’t understand, it was something he enjoyed. It felt rewarding to him. Brotherhood and the risk and reward. An outlet for all the darkness that lived in his bones. She would be damned if she took it away from him for her own selfish desires.
Besides, her mother was in Vegas. Sterling somewhere in the states. He’d be devastated if he came back to see they’d left him on his own. They had to go back for him, they owed it to him at the very least.
“It was.” He looked over her face. The club was his life- it was still very important to him, but as morbid as it sounded, before this he didn’t care too much about his own life. It wasn’t that he wanted to die, but he thought his time was limited. Borrowed. It’s part of why he never had a relationship. Partially because none of them appealed like she had, but also because… he simply felt like he would die and leave someone grieving.
“If… if this guy continues. If we go back and we still can’t catch him, if he torments you further, we’ll leave.” He promised. It was the best option. “We’ll give it a few months when we’re back. I know this man must be fuming, angry that we’ve gone off.” But he knew, he wouldn’t rest until Bunny felt okay. Until she felt secure and happy.
“There’s only one person who could make me want to leave. And it’s you. If it’s down to your safety… I think Viper would understand.”
Logistically he would be fine. He hoarded his money away. Contrary to people’s thoughts, he was smart. He invested, he bought properties- he needed fallbacks. He had never been sure why- but this solidified it. It had been his intuition knowing he’d have something to cherish one day.
“But if we go back and you hate it? If you tell me you’re miserable and tired? M’taking us back.” He promised. “Jus’ you and me. It’s all we need.”
A pipe dream, they’d have to meet other people eventually. But being alone, just with her seemed like a dream come true.
——————————
“Babe, do you want sweet popcorn or savory or both?” Bunny took movie nights very seriously, popcorn was something she felt was a specialty snack. The seasoning was key. Turning around with a spatula in her hand, head tilted, eyes wide waiting for an answer. He looked so handsome fresh out of the shower, a pair of loose grey sweats hanging off his hips.
“Both. Exactly, silly me! That was a stupid question.” She spoke before he could answer, dropping a kernel in to the pan to check if the oil was hot enough.
The two had spent the rest of their day chatting, joking, and eating. Even went on a walk along the backyard of the property to get some fresh air. Enjoying each others company without the need to be anyone but themselves. It was just so easy. By the time the sun went down, the two of them decided to freshen up and head downstairs to continue their lazy day.
Wearing one of Harry’s old club shirts and a pair of black panties to match, Bunny felt like they were still at his apartment in Vegas. Home was wherever they were after all.
It was hard not to feel especially fond of her when she was wearing his clothing. That she looked so undeniably his, so perfect and soft, she was grabbing at his heart. The heart that continued to try to burst from his chest as he looked at her.
He loved her. He loved her so much. His eyes narrowed playfully at her, watching as she stood there, testing out the popcorn. Making him fantasize about this being his daily life. About having her with his ring on her finger and maybe a kid in her stomach, making his insides twist. He wanted that.
He wanted that life with her. To come home to find her comfortable, barefoot and happy. Cooking. Doing what she loves. He wanted her to smile forever, to smile at him forever and help him see the sun like she managed to do every day- even when it wasn’t visible in the sky, he could see it when she smiled.
He was quiet, watching as she gave him a look. Taking the spatula, he placed it back down on to the counter, turning her around so her back was against the counter and away from the stove. Pinning her there, he held her face in his palm, taking a moment just to look at her.
She was stuck, pinned to the cool counter, but there was something in his eyes. This time she went with the flow, even with her heart beating fast, wrapping her arms over his neck and arching slightly up at him with her own softest smile.
“What are you thinking about, H?” She questioned, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “You look like you’re thinking awfully hard.”
He was trying to figure out how to say it. What would be the best way to say the words he’d never spoke to anyone in his life. Love was something he never thought he would have the opportunity to experience, but love is the only thing he ever felt about her he thinks.
Just say it.
He could just spit it out like it was nothing, casually admit his feelings and see what would happen. It felt like the most natural thing to do, but the words were weighted. He wanted them to be special, she’d remember this forever, he hoped.
“Thinking about how beautiful you are, Y/N.” He was so serious, she swore she felt her heart slow down. “And how I’ve never seen you so relaxed, you look like you belong here. In this house, with me…” His time had never been so sweet and delicate. He leaned in to place a kiss to her forehead before resting his own against hers for a moment. With one more peck to her lips he pulled back, staying quiet as they stood there looking at each other.
“I’m thinking that, I love you, Bunny. So much.”
#jarofstyles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smut#harry writing#harry styles imagine#harry drabble#harry styles blurb#harry styles writing#harrystyles#harry styles#one direction fanfiction#one direction fan fiction#one direction#one direction one shot#one direction fanfic
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flower [tattooH x Innocenty/n]
synopsis: harry's the boy next door, he's also a tattoo artist aannd y/n's sexual awakening because she's an innocent virgin with a flower shop.
word count: 8.6k
content warnings: smut (fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, virgin Y/N)
read part 2 here
my first imagine !! i hope u enjoy it !! i enjoy it here very much !
. . .
Y/N had been having a terrible week.
She owned a flower shop called 'Sweet Juniper' which had been hers for almost an entire year. It had been her dream to share her love of flowers with everybody so when she finally saved enough money to set up a shop, she worked tirelessly to make it the best possible floral shop the town had ever seen.
People would put in special requests if they needed flower arrangements for special occasions or others would just come by to just lift their mood a little bit if they were having a tough day. Y/N loved her customers and spent so much time chatting throughout the day all whilst tending to her plants.
But this week was not fun.
The shop next door had been empty for a long time now - ever since Y/N had set up shop. She lived in the flat above the shop so it was ideal not to have to handle any neighbours. But the past few weeks, decorators and construction workers had been making a lot of noise - fixing up the empty shop - which meant someone was moving in.
Y/N hadn't met them yet so she wasn't sure what the shop next door would be. The town was relatively quiet so she expected a bakery or maybe a clothing boutique. Only yesterday, with the shop all set up and ready to go, she found it to be nothing of the sort.
It was dark and music pulsed through the walls of her flower shop. The heavy bass made it sound like someone was trying to fight their way through the floorboards she had painted a very, very light pink.
Her customers had complained especially the older bunch. They had trouble concentrating whenever they tried to talk to her or hear her advice on what the best flowers were during the current autumn season.
So after a not-so-fun week and frequent visits to the corner shop to top up her headache medication, Y/N made the decision to confront her new neighbour and tell them exactly how she felt. She wasn't going to let her flower shop fail because of an inconsiderate, noisy fool.
Y/N flipped the sigh from 'open' to 'closed' and took off her apron which had her name in swirly handwriting embroidered onto the breast pocket. She took three deep breaths and mentally went through her speech. She wouldn't be unkind but she would be fair.
"You can do this Y/N," She said to herself before she exhaled and opened the door to walk five steps over to her next-door neighbour.
She hadn't seen the shop properly since the decorating was completed so was immediately struck by how dark it was in comparison to her own shop. It was painted black with illustrations and pictures of people's tattoos set up in the shop window.
The pavement was lit up in the darkness by the red neon lights coming from inside the shop. Everything about it was so different to her baby pink and white flower shop.
The sudden thought of turning back and going upstairs to her apartment almost tempted her enough to turn away but she knew the problem would not be resolved if she were to sit by and do nothing.
Her Mary Jane heels tapped against the pavement as she came to stand in front of the door. It seemed as though the shop was still open, so she pushed the door and stepped inside.
The smell of tobacco and musk and ink hit her senses as she closed the door behind her. The heavy bass of the music was now pounding through her ears. The nerves were rising within her and turning back seemed much more tempting now.
She spun on her heel and reached for the door handle, only to be stopped by someone clearing their throat.
"Are you here for a tattoo?" His voice was deep, husky and... pretty.
She turned around and was met with a tall figure standing in the doorway to the back of the shop. His arms were by his side and he was wearing a black, fitted shirt with black trousers and low cut doc martens with red laces. His face was illuminated by the red, neon sign on the wall with the words 'Styles INK' written in a grungey font.
"T-tattoo?" She gulped, the script she had rehearsed over and over again was nowhere to be found like the words had silently fallen from her brain, through her nose and slipped from her mouth before she had time to speak them out loud.
He walked to the front desk, footsteps heavy against the wooden floor. "We don't take walk-ins this late at night if that's what you're after."
The tone of his voice made her tremble in her heels. She curled her fingers into a fist and tried to stop her heart from beating so fast. "I-I'm not here for a tattoo. I-I'm actually from next door."
His head lifted up, she could finally see the colour of his eyes were a pale green and his hair was curly and brunette. "Ahhh," He dropped the pen he was fiddling with on the desk, "The flower girl."
She huffed, "Yes, that would be me."
"M allergic to flowers." He said.
"W-what? Why would you set up shop next to a flower shop then?" She asked.
"Only place that offered a space with an apartment." A breath slipped past her lips.
He was not only her shop neighbour but her neighbour neighbour too.
Well, this just made things a bit more awkward.
He came in front of the desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms. Y/N saw every inch of the skin on his arm littered with tattoos and even caught a glimpse of his ring-clad fingers. "Listen, if you're not here for a tattoo then why are you here? I need to close up so I'd appreciate it if you were quick with whatever it is you came here for."
Y/N swallowed her nerves, "Your music is too loud a-and it's driving my customers away."
"What was that?" He wanted her to repeat herself.
"Y-Your music, it's much too loud and my customers are c-complaining." She wished she didn't stutter but at least she got what she needed to say out.
"My music?" His eyebrows scrunch up.
"Yes." She nods.
"What about your music?" He retorts, "s all I can hear when I'm upstairs."
She immediately blushes and wonders how long he has been staying in the apartment upstairs. Y/N was so used to not having neighbours that she hadn't thought to turn her music down or take a break from her lonesome karaoke nights.
"That's different."
"If I have to hear you sing to that broken-hearted, bubble-gum pop princess every night then you can't complain about me playing my music like I have." He argues.
"B-but I don't play it in the day like you do! It's so loud! It is - hey quit laughing!" She huffs when he snickers at her.
"M sorry, you're just so little." He laughs. "Maybe that's why I haven't seen you since I've moved in."
Y/N crossed her arms, "I'd just appreciate it if you turned your music down a little, just so my customers can shop for their flowers in peace."
He says nothing. Instead, his eyes scan her face and then fall on the rest of her. She was wearing light blue jeans and a pink, cosy sweater. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail with a white, silk ribbon and her heels were still on her now aching feet.
He smirks, "Alright, I'll turn my music down but you have to do the same. I don't want to hear you sing about Romeo and Juliet or running out of the woods at 11 o'clock at night when I'm trying to relax."
She turns pink but luckily the red light hides the true colour of her cheeks, "Fine." She huffs and turns on her heel, too embarassed to say anything else.
"It was nice to meet you, flower." He says and she swears she can hear him smiling.
Her entire face heats at the nickname.
***
The next day, Y/N walked downstairs to her flower shop and prepared for a new day. She spent the rest of her night after visiting the stranger next door, quietly listening to music in hopes he would reciprocate today.
She hadn't seen him since last night and part of her was grateful for that. He was tall and intimidating and covered in tattoos but his voice was just so...nice that she couldn't seem to get the thought of him out of her head since she walked out of his tattoo shop. It was embarrassing to admit and Y/N was awfully bad at hiding her emotions so she hoped that would be the last time she'd speak to him face to face.
When she flipped the sign on the door to 'open', she held her breath as she waited for the sound of heavy, rock music coming through the walls only to find complete silence. She smiled and mindfully tapped herself on the back for being brave enough to go over and stand her ground.
Her customers were happy with the change too. They stayed and chatted with Y/N for a while, bringing home their baskets of flowers. The day had been much more successful than the past week had and she was thankful things would finally get back on track.
After cleaning the shop at the end of the day, she walked upstairs to her apartment and immediately decided to get into her new cute pyjamas she had ordered from Hollister - long trouser bottoms and a cute tank top both covered in the same pink, ditsy floral print.
She made herself some dinner and snuggled up on her tiny couch with her pet cat, Marshel, nestling to the side of her. Y/N hummed in delight when she made the decision to re-watch her favourite Harry Potter movie- it was the best film for the autumn weather.
Ten minutes into the movie sounds of people speaking and loud music sounded through the walls of her apartment. "Oh please no," She looked up at the ceiling, praying that someone out there would put her out of her misery.
It could only be her new neighbour, the tattoo artist, the one with the nice voice.
She pressed her ear against the door of her apartment and from the racket of people speaking and how loud the music was, she knew he was having a party.
"It's going to be a long night Marsh." She sighs, picking up her kitty and carrying him to bed.
At 2 am, Y/N was still awake. The party was still going and the music had yet to quieten down.
Y/N had been tossing and turning all night. Tears in her eyes as she tried to sleep but couldn't because of the loud noises coming from next door. At this rate, she'd only get four hours of sleep before she had to be up again for the busiest day of the week at the shop.
She couldn't handle it anymore. She flipped her duvet off and swung her legs over the bed. Her eyes fighting to stay open as she stumbled for the door.
At this rate, she was so tired she didn't care how she looked. She just wanted the quiet.
She flung her front door open and already found herself outside the tattoo artist's door. She knocked but the music was so loud, the only thing she could do was invite herself in.
The door opened and suddenly she was in a whole new world. There was cigarette smoke and a strong stench of alcohol. It was dark but red LED lights lit the room. People were laying on the floor or sitting around chairs or dancing in the empty spaces. There must have been about thirty people but with how tiny the apartment was it felt like much more.
Y/N took a deep breath and began her mission to find the source of where the music was coming from. Everyone was much taller than her which made it harder for her to push past people, especially in their drunken state.
"Excuse me please," she mumbled.
"Flower," his voice made her freeze in place.
She stilled and spun round on her sock-covered feet, making a mental note to throw them in the trash when she got home.
The person standing in front of her looked the same, wearing the same all black outfit he wore yesterday. She could see the illustrations of his tattoos a little better this close and she could also see the anger that covered the features of his face.
"Y-you." She said through parted lips, unable to hide her fear or shock.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a corner of the room. He placed his hand on the wall behind her and covered her with his body like he wanted to hide her away.
"The m-music it's too loud and I-I can't sleep." She said, nearing on tears.
"You and your loud music." He muttered, "It's Saturday night. Shops aren't open on a Sunday."
"Mine is." She said.
"What?"
"I open my shop on a Sunday. I do work shops for little kids whose parents have to work on weekends and for elderly people who get a little lonely." It was her favourite day of the week but now she was dreading it because of the lack of sleep.
His expression seemed to soften but he rolled his eyes, "Of course you do."
"I just need to sleep for four more hours and then you can carry on doing whatever you're doing." He smirked.
"You've never been to a party before flower girl?" She shook her head and yawned.
Harry's smile fell and he sighed. He looked around at the party and then at the sleepy girl in front of him. "Fucks sake." He muttered and wrapped an arm around her.
Y/N's eyes widened when his hand rested on her shoulder. He tucked her into his side and quickly manoeuvred past everybody.
"Is that your new girl Styles?"
"Nice one, H."
"Have fun Styles."
"Ignore them." Harry told her as he reached their front door.
"Is that your name? Styles?" Y/N realised she had yet to ask what his name actually was.
"S Harry. You call me Harry." He says and she smiles at how normal and soft his name was compared to his dark and grizzly stature.
She hadn't realised what he was doing until he opened the door to her apartment. She gasped, suddenly wide awake and highly alert considering he was now in her very messy, untidy apartment.
"W-what are you doing?" She ran to her sofa and picked her blankets up from the floor before grabbing her bowl of popcorn from the coffee table that was littered with books and magazines she was halfway through reading.
Harry's eyes darted around her small apartment. The corner of his lips flinched into an almost smile when he saw the pastel colours littered around the place. It was so her - cute and cosy.
"You wanted to sleep." He said, "M helping you sleep."
Her mouth opened and closed in shock, "Helping me sleep?"
"Mhm, I've got these," He pulled out some earbuds from his pocket, "They're noise cancelling. Can't hear a sound when you've got them in your ears."
She looked at them in intrigue, "Where's your room?" He wondered, already walking in the direction of her bedroom like he'd been in her apartment many times before.
"My room's a little untidy," She tried to get past him so she could block him from coming into her room but he was much too tall.
"Don't care flower, just helping you out." He walked into the messy bedroom and paid no mind to the state of the floor. She'd never had a man in her room before so wasn't sure exactly what to do. Her apartment seemed so much smaller from his presence alone. "Get into bed, love." He pulled out his phone.
"O-okay," She said and tucked herself under her blanket.
It was strange to let a person she barely knew into the confines of her room but she was too tired to care and something inside of her trusted him.
He crouched beside her, resting an arm on her mattress. "Here put these in," He handed her the headphones, "Can you hear me?" He asked but received no reply, instead, Y/N giggled.
"I can't hear you Harry!" She laughed and something weird happened in his chest.
He smiled, "Tha's good." He murmured and put on a song he knew she would like.
Her heart stopped beating in her chest when the gentle piano music began to play. An instrumental of 'Cardigan' by her favourite singer whispered into her ears as he played it on a low volume.
"Sleep now flower." He encouraged.
"M name's Y/N." She whispered, her eyes fluttering shut, "You can call me Y/N."
"Y/N," He whispered back and the name seemed to unlock something deep inside of him. He said it once more for good measure before leaving her there with the music still playing.
***
Y/N woke up the next morning with a phone that was not hers resting right by her head. She had managed to fall asleep for four hours thanks to the man who she now knew as Harry. She felt as though last night was a fever dream and Harry had been a guardian angel, granting her sleep at last.
She could have slept in for another four hours but the shop would not run itself and she had many workshops on today that a lot of people had signed up for. She grabbed Harry's phone and made a mental note to give it back to him before she went to open the shop.
She made herself a good breakfast and fed Marshel as well, before getting dressed into a grey mini dress with a cute white collar and an encrusted black bow. She tied her hair back into a half up, half down and fastened it with a black bow to match her dress. She wore the same black Mary Jane heels and a bag with her packed lunch inside.
When she left her apartment, she listened out for any loud music coming from Harry's apartment only to be met with silence. She knocked three times- his phone in her hands- but no one answered.
She'd come back later, she thought. Maybe he was also catching up on some much-needed sleep.
Her first workshop of the day was with a group of children.
Their parents worked weekends and some of them were from the orphanage that they had signed up to help them develop new hobbies. Y/N knew them all by name and loved teaching them how to grow their own tomato plants and arrange flowers with cute bows.
An hour before lunch, she had a class with a group of mothers whose children had just left home. Most of them came because they needed a little company on the weekends when not a lot was going on at home or they wanted to pick up a new hobby.
In the midst of her basket weaving session, Y/N heard a phone ring. She glanced at the phone still on the front desk and saw the screen lighting up. "Excuse me ladies," she slid off the chair and walked over to Harry's phone.
Mike Supplier was the name on the screen. She wondered whether or not it was important and if she should answer it just in case. The phone stopped ringing for a brief moment until the name lit up the screen again.
"Seems important, Y/N." One of the ladies said.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and walked to the back room, pressing the green button to accept the call. "Fucking finally!" A gruff voice speaks on the other end, "I've got your stash when do you want it?"
"Excuse me?" Y/N blushed, not use to such aggressive language.
The person paused, "Are you Styles' new lady? Listen can you put him on the phone? I need to speak to him urgently."
Y/N was in shock, "I'm not his lady! I'm his neighbour."
"Well, whatever you are could you just pass the phone to him?"
"Give me a second," She huffed, entering the shop again and turning towards the ladies who were in deep conversation, "Ladies, I just need a moment to go next door." They nodded.
Y/N could hear Mike Supplier cursing over the phone even as she had it by her side. She noticed Harry's shop was still unopened so went upstairs instead.
She knocked on the door of his apartment repeatedly until she finally heard footsteps coming towards the door. His door swung open, "Can I help you flower?" Her eyes widened.
He stood in the doorway with nothing but grey sweatpants and socks. His bare torso was littered with tattoos and his brunette hair was clipped with a tiny claw clip.
"Your p-phone," She held it out to him. His eyebrows furrowed like he had a lot of questions as to why she had his phone but he took it from her anyway and held it to his ear.
"Yeah, yeah shut up." He spoke. Y/N could still hear Mike Supplier talking on the other end. "Come by this afternoon. I'll wait outside the shop and don't wear that dodgy fucking hat this time."
The conversation ended and Y/N stood awkwardly in front of him. "Well I should go,"
"Wait," Harry stopped her "Did you steal my phone from me flower girl?"
"N-no! You left it in my apartment." She argued.
"Oh yeah," he grins like he was thinking back to being in her room last night, "Your lips go all pouty and you snore when you sleep you know that? 'S cute."
"Hey," she huffed, "I do not snore!"
"Whatever you say baby." Her cheeks warmed at the new nickname he had accidentally added to the seemingly growing collection.
"W-well who was that anyway. He was a little rude." She mumbled.
"You spoke to him?" He arched a brow, "was he rude to you?"
"He swore at me,"
"Dick." Harry muttered, "He's my supplier."
"Oh like for the shop?" She asked. Harry could have sworn he was having palpitations from how innocent she looked.
"No baby," he smirked, "a different kind of supplier."
"Oh," she said, still not fully understanding what he was getting at, "Well I better get down to the shop. My class is waiting for me."
"Sure I'll come with you." He grabbed a sweater and his jacket from the coat hanger.
"Wait, what? No."
"I'm bored and I want to hang out with you." He shrugs, "I don't see how that's a problem."
"You want to hang out with me?" She couldn't make sense of it.
"Mhm," He shut the door of his apartment behind him, "Lead the way, flower girl."
Y/N argued with him as they walked back downstairs. She tried to push him out of the shop before he could even step foot inside but she was too small for his 6ft frame and he gently grabbed her waist and picked her up as if she weighed nothing, stepping into the shop.
All eyes turned in their direction. Y/N blushed and stuttered as she said, "L-ladies, this is my neighbour."
"Hi, I'm Harry." He said from behind.
The ladies looked confused and then concerned and then suddenly they were grinning ear to ear, slipping out of their seats to welcome their new guest.
"Oh Harry, you look as old as my boy! It's so lovely to meet you." Mildred, one of the elder ladies said.
"Nice to meet you too." He spoke in a warm, almost flirtatious way.
Y/N stood there in shock, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Kathy and Lucy had already sat him in between them both and got him the things he needed to weave a basket.
"Are you interested in flowers Harry?" Julia asked.
He looked across the table over at Y/N whose cheeks seemed to be a shade of red they'd never even been before. "Only one."
"Oh well Y/N's an excellent teacher. We're making hanging baskets to plant daffodils in them for the spring."
"Hmm I guess I've come to the best place to learn then." His eyes remained fixed on Y/N who defeatedly picked up her basket to show Harry exactly how to make one himself.
"How are you so good at this?" Y/N whispered in awe as Harry finished his basket.
"These hands are good with fiddly things." He says.
"Oh that's wonderful Harry!" Kathy exclaimed, "You could take over Y/N's job. Might help her out and she can finally have a much deserved rest."
"S that right? You tired flower?" Harry murmured when he saw Y/N's eyes opening and closing as she leant against the desk.
"Not tried at all," she lied but Harry seemed to see right through her.
"Hmm," he frowned which immediately had Y/N standing straight and trying to disguise her exhaustion a little better.
"You hungry?" A tall shadow loomed in front of Y/N as she sat at the desk, processing payments for her classes and labelling the baskets for the ladies to take home.
She looked up and saw Harry, his voice now a familiarity after the last almost twenty four hours since she had met him. "A-a little." She decided not to lie this time since apparently, she was much easier to read than she thought.
"I've got food upstairs, wanna come up?" He asks.
"A-Are you sure?"
"C'mon little flower, I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't mean it." With a nod, Y/N locked up the shop for lunch and followed Harry up to his apartment. When she stepped inside, it was completely different to how it had been last night.
It was clean and tidy. A few boxes were lying on the carpeted floor of his open living room here and there, but for the most part, it was pretty neat. Y/N's eyes were immediately taken by the prints hanging up on the wall.
"These are incredible." She gasped, feeling particularly fond of a line drawing of a woman.
"It's my mother," He stood next to her, looking up at the drawing with her.
"You drew it?" She asked, wide-eyed.
"Mhm," He hummed.
"Wow, no wonder you're a tattoo artist," She glanced at the intricate tattoos littered on his arms.
"Ever thought of getting one yourself?" He asked.
"N-Not really, I'm no good with needles." She said, rather sheepishly.
He smirked, "Let's get some food in that tummy."
Twenty minutes later, Y/N and Harry sat on the small two-person couch eating sandwiches and a fruit salad they had prepared together in Harry's even smaller kitchen. Y/N giggled as Harry threw a grape into the air and tried to catch it in his mouth.
"T-tell me about your tattoos," Y/N insisted after taking a bite out of a strawberry. Harry's eyes looked down at her lips and back to her big, doe eyes. "What does this one mean?" She questioned, pointing to the words written in Hebrew.
"M' sisters name," He starts, "And that says 'Can I stay?'"
"Hmm, you have a lot of hearts." She said, fingers lightly touching the human heart on his arm.
"I have a lot of love." He grins, cheekily, like he knew the line was cheesy but wanted to use it anyway. He was glad he did from the smile it had formed on Y/N's face.
Y/N hadn't realised how close they had gotten until she felt his breath on her neck. Her voice wavers slightly as she tries not to think too much about it, "And what about this one," She points to the rose, her fingers tracing the petals.
"I did that one myself," He murmured, lips close to her ear.
"You did?" She said but it came out more as a whisper. She seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, her brain turning to mush and all her thoughts suddenly turning into Harry.
"Mhm," She glanced up and his deep, green eyes were already boring into her. Her eyes darted down to his lips and then back up again. "You're pretty," He mumbled, loud enough so she could hear.
She shook her head, "I-I don't think so," She was suddenly flustered and confused and wondering why her brain was not acting the way it usually did.
"I know so," His hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ears, and she shudders when his fingertips brush against her cheek. Slowly his head inches forward and the nearer he gets it feels as though more oxygen leaves the room. "Relax," He whispers, touching her hand, "You're okay flower girl."
"H-Harry, I-I've never kissed anyone before." She admits, embarrassment flooding her.
"What?" He furrows his eyebrows.
"O-oh, it's just that... I've never been k-kissed before."
"By anyone?" She nods. "Impossible." He whispers.
"We can stop if you want to," He says, his voice gentle and comforting.
"No," She wraps her small fingers around his wrist before he pulls away, "I-I want to,"
"Want to what?" He smirks, "You've gotta tell me baby."
"I want to k-kiss you," She blushes, it's all she seems to do around him.
"Cute," He murmurs before his lips press to hers.
Y/N's not sure what to do at first, her eyes are open and shock courses through her, but Harry's lips move against hers and he breathes, "Relax flower," He insists and she does.
Her eyes flutter shut and she mimics his movements. What he gives, she gives right back and a small whimper leaves her when he kisses her even harder. She starts to lose her breath with how long they kiss for but she's far too deep, floating too much, to pull away. She grabs the back of his neck and pulls him in closer, a groan eliciting from somewhere deep inside him. "Baby," The name escapes his lips and a shiver runs through her.
With panting breaths, she pulls away and so does he. Her face is flushed and his lips are pink, "You okay?" Is the first thing he asks, receiving a nod. "I think 'm a little bit obsessed with you." He confesses.
"M-Me?" She couldn't believe what he was saying.
"Don't think I've ever wanted anything more," He looks away like being vulnerable is a foreign thing for him.
"Why?" She can't help but ask.
He shrugs, "Sometimes it just is."
She thinks on his words before replying, "Can we kiss again?"
Harry chuckles, "Kiss me all you want flower."
. . .
Y/N had a permanent smile on her face the next day as she went back to work. People asked her what was making her so happy and she was constantly finding things to lie about instead of speaking the name of the tattooed boy next door.
An hour before lunch, the postman came to deliver her new ribbons for the bouquets and accidentally dropped off a package meant for Harry. Y/N couldn't help but smile at his name written on a brown box.
"Give me a second ladies, I'm just going to pop next door." Y/N grinned, ignoring the knowing looks of the ladies she was teaching.
As Y/N walked next door, her confidence seemed to shrink with every step. She realised she had yet to go to Harry's tattoo shop when he was actually working and she knew she would stick out like a sore thumb once she took a step inside. She was wearing a lilac dress and white heels, of course, she was going to stand out.
The bell rang as she stepped inside and a few customers looked up, some of them doing a double take at the small girl. Music played through the speakers but it was a lot less quiet compared to the first day Harry's shop had opened.
Footsteps walked on the wooden floorboards and Harry walked out from the back room. His eyes caught sight of Y/N and his frown immediately turned into a smile. He held his arms out for her and she quickly walked into his embrace. "Hi flower," He murmured into her hair.
"I came to drop off your package," She held out the box to him when he let her out of his arms.
"Oh," He took the package from her, "That's all?"
She bit back a smile, "Mmm, I may have something very important to tell you," She gave him a not-so-subtle wink.
He grinned, almost wickedly, "Well, do follow me this way to tell me this very important thing," He led her way from the waiting area and somewhere closed off and hidden from everywhere else.
When they were alone, he grabbed her hips and hoisted her up onto a countertop, knocking things over. "Harry," She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Shhh no more talking baby," He said before kissing her lips that he spent all night dreaming about. Their mouths were wet and hot against each other as they made out in a closet hidden away from Harry's customers.
His hands slid down her back and around her waist, pinching her hips, "Did you wear this dress f' me baby?" He murmured, the tone of his voice sending shivers up Y/N's spine.
"Wanted to be pretty for you." She told him. She had spent all morning trying to find a nice outfit to wear, not only for work but for when she saw Harry too.
"Fuck," He groaned against her lips, "Where have you been all my life?"
Y/N felt like a teenage girl getting all flustered and hot over a boy. She'd never experienced being with someone in this way before and now she had a taste for it and couldn't get enough of him. She had left Harry's apartment yesterday in a daze and she felt like she was still floating from the high of her first kiss.
He stood in between her legs and she subconsciously rolled her hips against him. She gasped in both shock and at the feeling of him against her, "You're okay baby," He soothed her, sensing her confusion.
"Feels good huh?" He pulled her hips into him again and she felt a moan bubble in her throat. "Have you ever touched yourself Y/N?" He wondered.
She froze, "N-no," She confessed, embarrassed.
"Nothing to be ashamed of baby," He comforts her, his words soothing the insecure part of her. He kissed her lips softly, "Can I visit you this evening?"
She nods without even thinking about it, "Please,"
He smirks, "Please baby? Please? What are you asking for?"
She didn't know, her mind was foggy and all she could see was him, "Everything."
His eyes darkened but his smirk never left, "'M polite little flower."
"Harry," She whined, burying her face in his neck.
Harry laughed and cupped the back of her with his hand, kissing her forehead, "I'll come visit tonight and you better be wearing those cute pyjamas," He knew she was smiling because he could feel her lips against his neck.
That evening after Y/N had closed the shop, she ran upstairs to her apartment and kicked off her heels. She ran around her living room, hiding things she didn't want Harry to see and flinging dirty laundry into the washing basket.
She walked into her very pink bedroom and pulled out her pyjamas, happy to finally be wearing something comfortable. She spritzed some of her favourite perfume and rubbed vanilla lotion into her skin.
Y/N sat on her sofa with Marshel seated by her feet on the carpeted floor. She switched on the TV and watched a few episodes of friends whilst continuing to finish her knitting project - she was making a blanket since one of the ladies from her group was pregnant and would be giving birth very soon.
She fought to keep her eyes open as she waited for Harry to knock on her door. His shop was meant to have closed twenty minutes ago so she assumed he'd be here by now.
Slowly, an hour had gone by and Y/N was getting worried. Her mind spun with insecurities and a sudden fear that something might have happened to Harry. She placed her knitting project on her coffee table and patted Marshel on the head. She walked to the door and slid her sock covered feet into her brown UGG boots.
The shop was not its usual LED red colour when she came to stand in front of the window, instead it was neon blue. Y/N frowned when she heard music playing from inside and checked to see whether the door was open.
Her hand pushed the door handle, the door swinging open and the muffled music suddenly became coherent. She could hear voices coming from the back room where Harry tattooed his customers.
Walking towards the sound, Y/N eventually caught the sound of Harry's voice amongst the group of people chatting. Her shoulders relaxed at the thought of him being here, at least she knew she'd be okay if he was there with her.
Turning the corner, her eyes landed on Harry with two other tattooed men, smoking something that - in Y/N's opinion - smelt a little strange.
Harry must have sensed her presence as he turned his head and caught sight of her hiding behind the corner wall. He smiled, "Hey flower,"
"Hi," She murmured, feeling embarassed.
"C'mere," He held out his arm for her and she scurried towards him, attaching herself to him by snuggling her body into his side. He put an arm around her, kissing her forehead. "I thought I was meeting you upstairs?"
Y/N frowned, "You took too long,"
He smirked, "M impatient girl," He nodded towards the two men he was talking to, "Y/N, these are 'm friends, Mike and Dan."
"Mike supplier," Y/N whispered, finally putting a face to the name of the man she had spoken to on Harry's phone.
He was tall and bald with a beard and looked to be in his forties. Like Harry, he also had tattoos but not nearly as much. Beside him was Dan who looked closer in age to Harry, maybe a little older. He was blonde but wore a cap on his head and a silver chain around his neck.
After Harry had finished smoking with his friends, he said his goodbyes and led Y/N upstairs back to her apartment. "What were you smoking? It smelt funny," Y/N asked,"
Harry fell back onto the couch and pulled her down with him. She lay on top of him, the smell of the smoke still lingering on his clothes. "'S just a bit of weed." He confessed.
Y/N gasped, "Weed? Is that legal?"
Harry looked at her amused, "Not here but it doesn't do much harm to me, been smoking it for ages." He twirled a piece of hair around his finger, "Does that bother you?"
She thought about it but the idea didn't really seem to phase her. As long as he was being safe and was using it in a healthy sort of way, she didn't mind. "N-no, not at all." Harry's smile widened into a grin. He didn't hesitate to kiss her, feeling her soft lips which had recently become his new obsession. They were so soft and red and kissable and made just for him.
Y/N didn't want him to stop kissing her whenever he did. She loved the feeling of her eyes fluttering shut and all of her senses just filling up with him. Harry pulled away, still cupping her cheek in his hand. Y/N's chest heaved up and down against him as she tried to catch her breath, "Breathe, flower." His heart ached when she looked up at him with swollen red lips, trying to catch her breath. "Lose your breath a little bit huh?"
"A little," She huffed.
"You're too cute."
Y/N kissed him again once she had caught enough air again. Harry sat up, pulling on the roots of her hair as her legs wrapped around him so she was straddling him. She whimpered, tugging on the fabric of his t-shirt.
"What do you want baby?" Harry mumbles against her parted lips.
"Take it off," She whispers, pulling on his shirt.
Harry does as he's told, pulling his shirt up over his head and revealing his muscular, tattoed torso. Y/N's eyes widened. She'd never seen something so beautiful, he looked as though he was one of those marble statues in a museum. "Eyes on me baby," Harry smiled, pushing her chin up with his finger so her eyes were looking directly into his. "What now?"
"I-I-I don't know," She blushed, losing her confidence now that they were no longer kissing.
"We don't have to do anything you don't want." He looked at her with a soft gaze.
"I-I don't want to disappoint you." She admits, her insecurities coming to the surface.
"Couldn't disappoint me baby, ever." She smiles, feeling secure in his words and his hold. Y/N leans forward and rubs her cheek against his chest. Harry's hands go beneath the tank top of her pyjamas, brushing her bare back. "If it helps I've never done this before."
She's shocked but she tries to hide it, "W-what do you mean?"
"Been intimate with someone."
She smiled.
She really, really liked him.
. . .
For weeks after, Y/N was obsessed with two things.
Her flower shop and her tattooed boyfriend next door.
When she wasn't working, she was with Harry, either cooking in his apartment or cuddling together on the couch in her living room. Harry had also developed a new taste for basket weaving, joining in on Y/N's Sunday classes with the elderly ladies in the morning.
In the short time they had known each other, Y/N had come to learn that Harry wasn't a morning person but he never missed a Sunday class even when he was exhausted from the busy day before at the tattoo shop. He would stumble downstairs with dishevelled hair and sleepy eyes in sweatpants and a hoodie, sitting in his seat between Mildred and Julia as they fussed over him.
Y/N had also grown a love for kissing Harry at every opportunity. She'd take many five-minute breaks, walking over to the tattoo shop and kissing Harry in the cupboard or visiting him in the alleyway behind the building where they'd make out against the brick wall. Even Harry had an addiction to his girlfriend's very kissable lips, sneaking out of his shop in between appointments to smother her in kisses in the storage cupboard.
"Hey Marshy little fur ball," Y/N bit back a grin when she heard the door of her apartment open and the familiar gruff voice speak to her little cat.
She swung her legs over her bed and paused the movie she was watching, running to the front door and leaping into his arms, "Hi flower," Harry murmured, inhaling the scent of her coconut shampoo.
Y/N nuzzled her face against his jumper and squeezed him tightly, "Hi Harry," She sighed, blissfully.
"Wanted to come see ya, hope tha's okay." He kissed her quickly.
"Course, I was watching a film in my room." She tugged on his hand and lead him to her bedroom.
Harry had spent nights in Y/N's room before. Sometimes he would ask her if it was okay if he took a nap in her bed whenever he finished work early because it was much comfier than his. She'd find him curled up under her blankets, hugging one of her stuffed animals to his chest with the hood of his sweatshirt over his head.
Harry removes his sweatshirt, leaving him in only sweatpants, before he crawls into bed and pats the spot beside him. Y/N turns on the movie but knows that neither of them has any plans of watching it.
With the amount of kissing they had been doing, Y/N hoped she had gotten a lot better. She realised Harry would often make small, quiet noises whenever she did something he liked, like tugging on his hair or sticking her tongue in his mouth.
It wasn't long before they were making out again on her bed. Her leg hooked around his hip and her hands in his hair as he gripped her waist, every now and then he would squeeze her ass remembering the first time he did it and how much she loved it from the soft moans that left her.
Y/N thought that kissing Harry was the best thing in the entire world but what she didn't know was that Harry had plenty more up his sleeve.
His hand slid from her waist and down to her bare thigh - she was only wearing pyjama shorts since her apartment was pretty warm. He squeezed her softly, "Can I feel you baby?" He asked.
Y/N froze, not sure how to react. "I-I-"
Harry cupped her cheek, "I know," He already knew what she was thinking before she even said anything, "We can carry on doing what we're doing if you prefer. It's no rush."
"N-no," She grabbed his wrist in both her hands. Y/N was a virgin but she wasn't afraid... Just inexperienced and that made her a little wary. But with Harry, she knew she wanted to allow that part of herself to him. Maybe not the whole thing but a little something.
"Y-you can feel me... I-if you like." She said, awkwardly.
Harry chuckles, "What about if you like, hmm?" His fingertip traced circles on her thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps.
"I-I would l-like that p-please." She whispered.
Harry grinned, "Only because you're so polite sweet girl."
Harry's arm slides between her legs and hooks his fingers around her pyjamas bottoms to pull them down her legs. Y/N inwardly praised herself for shaving the night before yet she was pretty sure Harry wouldn't mind either way. Harry tuts when he sees her underwear, "Did m' little flower get all wet from kissing on daddy?"
She felt the air leave the room and her body heat at the nickname. It was so dirty and yet she felt herself aching from his words. "Y-yes," She breathes.
"Yes what baby?" He kisses up her thigh.
"Yes daddy," She murmurs.
Harry eyes darken as he looks down between her thighs, "My good, polite girl." He pinches the flesh on her thigh and she feels her chest heave. Y/N gasps for air when his fingers trace the fabric of her underwear and her heart races even more when he moves her underwear to the side to see a part of herself no one had ever seen before.
"Fuck me," He whispers under his breath. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen."
"R-really?" Y/N blushes, her cheeks hot.
"Don't think I've ever seen something so pretty."
"T-thank you, daddy." She whispers the last part but it doesn't stop the bulge from growing in Harry's sweatpants.
"Have you always been this needy when we kiss baby?" Harry murmured in her ear as his fingers part her pussy. He tries to stop himself from groaning at the slick wetness that coats his fingers.
Y/N gasps at the new feeling but is immediately overcome by pleasure as Harry begins to move his finger back up to her clit, "Harry," She whimpers.
Harry's quick to pull his hand away, "Nuh uh baby, that's not my name."
Y/N's head was all dizzy but she managed to reply, "Daddy, please," She whines.
"Barely even touched you and you're already whining," He tuts before rubbing his thumb over her clit and making small, slow circles. Y/N whimpers at the new sensation of intense pleasure. "Does that feel good flower?" He asks, nipping her ear as he murmurs against it.
"S-so good- so good daddy, so, so good." She babbles as he continues to tease her clit with his thumb.
"Who'd have thought I had such a naughty girl hmm?" She arches into his touch as he moves his finger in a certain way. She wonders how she managed to go on for so long without feeling something so blissfully delightful.
"Put your hand here baby," Harry instructs, reaching for her hand that wasn't currently scrunching the duvet, and placing it flat over the top of his, "Let me show you how to touch yourself. Watch daddy," Y/N's eyes look down to see his gold ring-clad fingers drenched in her wetness, his tattooed hand moving in circles as her rubs her clit. "This is how I want you to touch yourself when you think of me baby and when you're good, I'll make your perfect, little hole feel good too." Y/N gasps and clenches when he brushes a finger against her hole.
"I-I'm good-Please, I'm good," She mewls and her hand grips his wrist instead. She uses it as leverage to twist and turn into him, the pleasure overwhelmingly good she can't help but hide her face in his neck.
"You are good," He kisses her forehead, "My good girl." She nods at his praise, eyes shut.
Harry forces her legs a part and continues to pleasure her in a way she didn't know about until today. She writhes and moans beneath his touch as he whispers dirty things into her ear. "I want you to cum baby, think you can do that?"
"Mhm," She sighs, already feeling the bubble of pressure in her tummy. "F-feels - feel's s-so-"
"Feel good m'love?" He coos, "Cum f' me. Cum f' daddy, wanna see you soak my hand."
At his words, Y/N whimpers as she becomes increasingly sensitive the more he circles her clit. Harry feels as though he's about to explode as he watches her cheeks flush pink and she grinds her pussy against his hand as she rides out her orgasm. "That's it my little flower, so good." He praises her, feeling her shudder as she finishes coming down from her high.
She's panting heavily as Harry slides her panties back into place. "You okay?" Harry checks, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Y/N nods and instantly feels embarrassed, hiding herself in the crook of his neck. Harry chuckles, "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen."
"You're lying," Y/N says, her voice muffled against him.
"Never gonna lie to you flower, never." He promises.
Y/N removes herself from her hiding place and looks up at him. Harry's heart bursts in his chest when she sees her sleepy, blissful gaze. He wonders where this girl has been all his life and how he managed to go this long without her. He was pretty sure he was falling in love with her but that was a conversation for another day.
"W-what about you?" Y/N looks down and sees the very noticeable bulge in his trousers.
Harry shakes his head, "Not today," He smiles, "We have plenty of time to experiment some more but think you've had enough experimenting for one night."
"Me too," Y/N curls into his side, not bothering to put her pyjama bottoms back on. "Having sex is exhausting."
"We didn't even have sex, silly girl." Harry laughs.
"Felt like it," She mumbles against him.
"I'm that good huh?" He grins, cheekily, "Just you wait baby,"
"The best," She slurs, yawning, "M so tired."
"Yeah? You sleepy baby?" He kisses her forehead. "Get some sleep m'love," He wraps an arm around her and tucks her into his chest.
"I like you very much Harry," She whispers, sleepily.
"I like you very much too." Harry replies, holding her close.
psa don't let strangers into your room... actually don't let anyone into your room
#harry styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagines#harry styles x reader#harry styles au#harry styles fanfic#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles fic rec#harry styles x you#harry styles fic#harry styles smut#harry styles imagine#one direction#writing#harry styles writing
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Abstaining Game
Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: The only thing worse than an anti-sex retreat is an anti-sex retreat with your former fuckbuddy and dad’s best friend. Especially when sharing one cabin.
Warnings: 18+. IF HE AIN’T GRAYIN’ I AIN’T STAYIN’ 🗣️ [Age gap]. Unprotected p-in-v. Forced proximity. Joel making you fuck just his middle finger when he’s mad. Daddy kink. Overstimulation. First-time squirting. Angst.
Translations: ‘Don’t piss down my back & tell me it’s raining’ is a fun Southern phrase for, ‘Cut the bullshit’ or ‘Don’t lie.’
Sequel to Waiting Game & Hating Game (last rhyme I swear)
October 26, 2024
Dear Joel,
Roses are red,
We’re a couple of sluts,
Abstinence camp is awful,
I miss you rearranging my guts.
You were just about to put your pen back down to paper and add the finishing touch, signing an equally lascivious farewell, when the letter was snatched out of your hands. A tyrant in khaki capris and an artichoke-colored polo eyed over your words with a pointed look and frowned.
“Letters to the boyfriend have to be G-rated,” Marlene said, crumpling the thing in her fist before chucking it.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you returned shortly. Then, “That was actually meant for my dad’s friend.”
You sat tight a moment as the dots came to connect in the woman’s parochial and prudish mind—waiting for the wince of disgust to twitch at the corners of her eyes when she put two and two together. Once it did, you grinned. Even when she plucked the pen out of your hand and told you to sit outside, if you can’t participate in this one simple activity, you smiled bigger and strolled at a comfortable pace out the canteen door.
Anti-sex ‘summer camp’ wasn’t bad at all when you didn’t give a fuck what your counselors told you to do.
It was ridiculous, really. Absurd. Tommy Miller catching you sucking his brother’s dick under the table at your father’s birthday dinner, losing his shit with you both, then threatening to tell your dad everything if you didn’t agree to this stupid retreat and stop seeing each other. You’d barely been trapped in the shithole for twenty-four hours, and you already knew this angle wouldn’t work.
What many of your fellow campers affectionately called the ‘Firefly Fuck-Free Zone’ or the ‘Federal Dickriding Response Agency’ (F.E.D.R.A.) was in fact a secluded enclave south of Austin where khaki-clad monsters forced you to reckon with your sexual urges like one might treat a mutated strain of the Cordyceps fungus. You weren’t meant to keep them for long, and if you did, someone like Marlene would surely shame you for it.
Frankly, Tommy was dumb as shit if he thought this anti-boinking boot camp would have an effect on either one of you—Joel wouldn’t ever bang you again after what happened that night, but it wouldn’t be because of some arts and crafts bullshit he did out on a FEDRA ranch.
He just didn’t want your dad to find out and kill him.
That was a fair concern to have. You didn’t blame him.
Presently, you kicked your feet up on the porch outside the cafeteria, where the rest of the group was finishing up letters to their loved ones—this latest activity was meant to be ‘making amends’ to the people in your life—and you tipped your head back to survey the landscape.
Nothing but sweetgrass and gently rolling hills as far as the eye could see. Somewhere across the plains there was another cluster of cabins, though you couldn’t quite see it, and someplace within that minuscule cluster, you knew there was a middle-aged man. Dark grey eyebrows furrowed in concentration and chest heaving gently. Likely hunched over an old oak desk about five sizes too small for his frame as he gripped a pen and scribbled:
Dear Tommy,
Fuck you, you fucking fuck.
Sincerely,
Joel
You grinned again just thinking about it.
If anyone had a reason to be ticked off and terrified, it was Joel. And you, you guessed. You still hadn’t gotten your period—but that wasn’t due for another few days.
For now, you’d settled on worrying yourself over what would happen after the retreat had ended; what would you and Joel do once you went back to school? What would become of his life back in Austin with a supremely pissed off brother and a best friend who didn’t know his kid had been fooling around with a man twice her age?
Silently, you thanked your lucky stars Joel’s part of the camp was kept separate from yours, because you didn’t think you’d be able to keep a straight face if you saw him.
The whole thing was sickening, if not slightly funny.
You slipped Joel’s old pack of American Spirits out of your boot and fished in your back pocket for a lighter.
Then you crammed both back when you heard a boom:
“LAKESIDE GUIDED MEDITATION STARTS IN FIVE.”
The tinny intercom rang a deafening pitch in your ears. You clamped a palm over the left side of your head and winced, having forgotten this exercise in mindfulness was supposed to be the last event to wrap up your day. You just wanted to slink back up to your cabin and sleep. Or eat. Or slip your fingers between your aching legs and indulge in some much-needed Joel Miller reminiscing.
Then you recalled how masturbation was also off limits to all would-be sexaholic campers—if there was any time to sneak off and get busy by yourself while your counselors were otherwise occupied, now would be it.
Just as you cast a glance over your shoulder to see if a stealthy exit was even possible, a voice trilled overhead.
“On your feet, skank.”
You looked back fast, and damn did Tess look smug.
Your bunkmate crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe, seeming to feel your thoughts before they’d even been fully processed.
“If you skip meditation, I think Marlene’s gonna take you behind the rec and shoot you in the head,” she added.
“How kind.”
“Yeah? Certain death?”
“Better than the dick deprivation,” you grumbled, only half-kidding as you dragged yourself back to your feet.
Theresa Servopoulos was no avid fan of penis herself—she much preferred women when she had her pick of it—but she grinned all the same and clapped a comforting hand over your shoulder before the two of you started walking down the mess hall’s front steps. Then she only laughed a little bit when you almost ate shit treading down the winding rocky trail to the lake and cursed your present lack of intercourse for causing your clumsiness.
“You realize it’s only been, like…a day, right?” she said.
“Might as well be a million,” you muttered, “I feel like I’m never getting laid again.”
“Oh?”
Tess gripped your elbow when a root protruding from the path nearly sent you flying again. She tried not to smile.
“Well…my fake brother’s mad at me for going behind his back and fucking his brother,” you explained, coolly.
Stupidly.
“Wait—you fucked your brother?!”
That stopped Tess in her tracks. The two of you were approaching the cusp of a clearing, just feet away from where the forest gave way to the shoreline of the lake. Folks were already congregating at the water’s edge.
“Any day now, ladies,” Marlene called through cupped hands. Tess was still regarding you with eyes the size of saucers as you traipsed across the way to that voice.
“Not my brother,” you hissed.
“You said your brother’s brother. That makes this guy your brother, too,” Tess whispered—still far too loud.
“Not my actual brother, he’s just— fuck—”
Suddenly, two scraps of red fabric were catapulted in your direction. Tess caught one. You caught the other.
“Tie ‘em over your eyes.” Marlene ordered.
“The fuck?” you mumbled, but ventured nothing more as you were ushered to join the group sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of you. Everyone else was tying bandanas around their eyes like all of this was normal.
“Another trust exercise,” Tess’s voice was low as you dropped your asses one after the other on the sand. Speaking like a seasoned veteran of the anti-sex retreat, she helped you get yours on and shot you one last ‘You-better-not-have-actually-fucked-your-sibling’ look before letting you help her secure her blindfold, too.
Just as Marlene began describing in great detail what this blind, guided meditation in self-love and elemental trust was meant to look like, your friend opted to give voice to her concerns the second the opportunity arose.
Still seated side-by-side, still blind, Tess leaned over.
“Please tell me you’re not here for bangin’ your brother.”
You had to stifle a laugh.
“I am not.”
“Then explain, Cersei!”
Just then, a throat cleared behind you. Evidently another camp counselor at your rear was telling you, wordlessly, to shut the fuck up and listen to the instructions. You and Tess just scooted closer and lowered your voices.
“So this guy, Tommy…he’s been like a big brother to me for years. Worked with my dad and always had my back for the wild shit I did back in high school,” you began.
“Uh-huh.”
“His big brother, Joel, is like…old as shit, but wildly hot.”
“Dangerous combo.”
“And Joel’s my dad’s best friend. Drove me back from college over fall break when he was visiting Boston, we took a little motel detour on the road trip home, and bam—” You snapped your fingers for effect, “We fuck, right?”
“Right.”
“—imagine you’re standing at the edge of a waterfall—”
Marlene couldn’t be serious with this hippy dippy shit. You tuned out the rest of what she said and continued:
“It’s incredible. But the condom busts open at the end—”
“Oh shit.”
“—deep breath in…and release…and again, we—”
“Freak the fuck out, right? I’m poppin’ Plan B like candy.”
“As you should.”
“—hold that breath in right there—”
“A week later, me and Joel hook up at my dad’s birthday party. Only we fuck up, ‘cause Tommy catches us, and—”
This time, the counselor who’d cleared their throat to shut you up took to nudging you both in the back with the toe of their shoe. You straightened up, tilted your head back, and scowled at them through your blindfold.
“Do you mind?” you said, turning in place but unable to see anything behind you. You imagined whoever had just butted in on your conversation was probably frowning. They said nothing in return, just huffed like a child.
“Anyway.” You pivoted back to Tess, “Tommy flips his lid, tells us he’s gonna snitch on us to my dad if we keep fucking around like that, and then he…sends us here.”
You heard your friend fight back a chuckle beside you.
“And abstinence camp is supposed to cure you of this awful disease? Wanting to fuck daddy’s best friend?”
Oddly, you wanted to giggle too. You weren’t sure what was so funny, or why Tess’s tone made you want to say something equally out of pocket and lewd, but then you were leaning over before you could even think twice:
“That old man’s dick is like a fuckin’ drug, dude.”
You wished you could’ve seen her face when you said it. But you didn’t need to catch a single glimpse to know she was grinning big and dumb when she whispered,
“Prehistoric cock must’ve been pretty nice, huh?”
You choked. She snorted. You returned, next, shortly,
“Best senior citizen schlong I’ve had in my life.”
You weren’t sure which one of you burst out laughing first. Maybe Tess. Probably you. Either way, both of your sides were splitting in seconds, as the ridiculous and just marginally offensive descriptors for Joel’s dick trembled at the tips of your tongues. You felt like a teenager again, telling your friend your filthiest desires for the DILF-next-door—except this time, you’d actually fucked him. Small perks to seeking out middle-aged men in your twenties. You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to rein in the peals of laughter as Tess wheezed quietly beside you.
Then you felt hands.
Two palms under your armpits, yanking you up.
You stumbled back, graceless and still staving off half a laugh as your back struck the counselor’s chest.
“Just…take her back up.” You heard a female’s voice to your left, low and not sounding particularly amused.
Take you where? Was this the part where Marlene dragged you behind the rec and shot you in the head?
About damn time.
Whoever had grabbed you grunted in acknowledgment. You swayed in their arms, trying to regain better footing, but the grip tightened up in a second and thrust you sideways. You staggered, cursing your captor.
“Fucker,” you hissed.
Fucker said nothing.
Their hands slipped from your pits to one of your wrists, leading you away from the lake in long strides. You were moving so fast you scarcely had the chance to pull the blindfold back, so you just kept walking. Marching.
“Can you slow the fuck down, please?”
You imagined the face of the person leading you forward might’ve twisted in a scowl. Their lips didn’t stir, though.
In a matter of minutes, your feet were crunching on the flat, gravelly terrain you knew to lay under the cabins. This person was leading you back. Likely to throw you off to your room in the next several moments—but not before ripping you a new one for disrupting the peace back down at the lake. You weren’t stoked to hear it.
“Alright, just—” You tripped as you were led up the rickety steps, cursing again, “—just leave me right here.”
A set of knuckles at your spine thrust you forward.
“No? Okay. Fine. Whatever.”
You shook your head as you entered the cabin and heard footsteps follow you in. It occurred to you then that now was probably a good time to take off the blindfold.
Before you could, though, it was ripped off for you.
“Pack your shit.”
Dude.
You spun on your heels.
“DUDE!”
Your eyes moved up the very khaki shorts you despised, the puke-colored polo, the neatly embroidered camp logo, and a nametag strangely labeled ‘Lucien Flores.’ Everything in the ensemble screamed ‘camp counselor.’ But the face above it—it wasn’t one of their own at all.
It was far too lax. Fresh with an easy, shit-eating grin.
“Sweetheart—”
He started to speak, only to get the wind knocked out of his chest when you threw your arms around him.
The barrage of kisses came without you ever really intending to place them at all. You were just so stunned, practically overcome with joy to see Joel Miller in all his ruggedly handsome glory, then confused. What was he doing here, and why was he dressed head-to-toe as a counselor? And why were you so into that on him?
You doubted you could even ask the questions, and he was barely more able to answer the longer you stayed latched to his neck, kissing him everywhere your mouth could get to. You’d just stood on tip-toes to press your lips to his when you realized he wasn’t reaching back.
His hands hung limply at his sides. Still, he smiled.
“Abstinence camp ain’t taught ya much, has it?”
You parted your lips to drag your teeth along the grey-spattered scruff on his cheek—biting but not quite. Begging him to kiss you back, grab your ass, anything to quell this anguish twisting low in your stomach at the lack of contact. Joel didn’t seem keen on answering to it.
“I’ve learned plenty, Miller,” you panted against his jaw, before moving below it to sink into the skin of his neck, “Lemme show you all the stuff FEDRA told us not to do.”
Yes, you sounded desperate. No, you didn’t really care. You were much too busy fiddling with the front of Joel’s shorts to concern yourself with anything but his cock. It made it all the more gut-wrenchingly horrific and disconcerting when you felt his hands push yours away.
“No,” Joel said, simply. Then, nodding to your luggage at the foot of your bunk, “Pack your stuff, sweets. C’mon.”
He was seriously trying to break you out?
You admired the cojones on the man, but you wanted to fuck real quick to get it out of your system. Needed it.
“Joel, I—” You swallowed thickly, shaking your head.
What your mouth couldn’t finish, your eyes said clear as day: I want you to take me right here. Quick and dirty. But, again, Joel seemed completely impervious to your pleas. Almost callous in the face of such a desperate request made from your eyes to his. He moved over toward your suitcase when you didn’t want to budge.
Luckily for you, you’d never unpacked. All that was left were the clothes on your back and a water bottle on the nightstand. Joel grabbed the latter and turned around to snag the suitcase on his way to the door, when he was met with you. Obstructing his path and frowning a little.
“Joel?” You raised a brow.
“Mm?”
The man in front of you straightened up, rolling a nonexistent kink from his neck before regarding you.
His gaze was alarmingly sedate.
“Y’know, you’ve got quite the knack for makin’ shit difficult—”
“Just a quickie, Miller—”
“I ain’t fuckin’ you here!”
The sudden boom of his voice should’ve startled you. But then a broad, warm palm came to rest on your shoulder, and Joel’s expression dropped immediately. There was still a tightness to it, somewhere deep within, and you couldn’t quite work out why he seemed so…off.
Then you caught sight of something steely in his gaze.
It just might’ve clicked if Joel didn’t reach for your face and elucidate things for you himself, eyes narrowing.
“I know my old man dick is like a fuckin’ drug and all…”
Shit.
Cheeks squished between his two big hands, you had only to stare. And blink. And silently regret being so loud when you were talking to Tess before. It didn’t look good.
“Joel—”
“No, no, my senile brain must be mistaken—it was actually that prehistoric cock that did it for ya.”
Your face heated with shame. You blinked again.
But just as you tried to shake your head between Joel’s hands, he pressed his palms tighter and drew you closer.
“Senior. citizen. schlong?” he intoned, painfully slow.
“Joel, I just—”
“Need to fuck someone your own age, it sounds like.”
The man in front of you released your face just as fast as he’d grabbed it, and when he stepped back, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of desperation. That wasn’t what you’d meant! It sounded so puerile and cruel coming out of his lips like this, but you had to tell him it was a joke.
“It was a joke.”
No time to mince words now.
“Real fuckin’ comedic genius,” Joel snorted.
He rolled his eyes and tried to sidestep you, but you mirrored the movement. When your hands flew to his chest to keep him from moving, please, just listen to me, Joel, he pretended not to hear it, or feel it, against him.
“Alright. Enough,” he muttered, “‘S’time to go home.”
“No!”
“No?”
“No.”
For the first time, you saw Joel’s nostrils flare. You pressed into his sternum again, hoping to hold him in place so you could explain yourself, but it seemed he wasn’t planning on staying stationary. Joel dropped to your bunk—or Tess’s, technically—and situated himself comfortably on the bed before shooting you a look. You barely had had a moment’s time to contemplate your next move when he yanked you onto the cot with him.
Joel didn’t try to kiss you. He didn’t attempt to remove one article of clothing from your body or his. He just sat there, staring, while you straddled his hips staring back.
“If you wanna fuck me so bad, go right ahead,” he said, motioning indistinctly in front of him, “Be my guest.”
When you stilled, he added, “That is all y’want, right?”
With your palms laying flat on his chest and a head full of conflicting thoughts—you did want to bang him, obviously, but not before you’d gotten a chance to set things straight, not when he was looking at you like this—you chewed your bottom lip. Certainly you couldn’t continue while Joel still believed you were embarrassed by his age, his lips downturned and humorless as ever.
“C’mon,” he tried again, a touch more venom laced in his words as he spoke, “Show me how much ya want it.”
You needed time to think.
“Why are you…dressed like this?” you said, stalling.
But Joel wouldn’t be kind enough to give you that time.
“Stole the uniform so I could sneak out and over here and get you out. Are we gonna fuck now or what?”
His hands moved over your own to guide them to his lower half, just above where your clothed core was touching his. Your fingers moved mechanically, almost reluctantly, to undo the button and zip of his shorts.
Was that a flash of hurt you saw in his eyes?
You’d never been good at this communication bullshit. Neither had Joel. The two of you would probably just have sex now to hash out your feelings, as was par for the course for a pair of emotionally stunted individuals. It still pained you to see him look at you like that, though.
“Tess and me were just kidding, baby.”
You palmed the bulge in his boxers and heard him grunt. When you nudged his cock out of the fabric to stroke him, his eyes fluttered shut and he sucked in a breath.
“I would never say those things to hurt you,” you added.
“Didn’t hurt me none,” Joel returned instantly. Then, feeling you flick the pad of your thumb over the head of his cock, he exhaled and held his face firm in place. Like he didn’t want you to see the effect you had on him.
You let go of his cock to take off your socks and shoes. Then your top. Then your shorts. Then you slid down his body a little, unsure if this was the time to be trying something new. Or even doing this kind of stuff at all.
At first, you just sort of lowered yourself to Joel’s groin, his dick resting comfortably between your tits. Then you started to move, and your hands were cupping either side of your breasts to push inward on his member. Before you even fully knew what you were doing, you were squeezing Joel’s dick with the soft, supple flesh and stroking him gently. Gaze glued to him all the while.
His eyes cracked open to catch you watching him. Evidently, Joel couldn’t contain all of his reactions, because he audibly groaned when you got going.
Sliding your tits up and down his shaft, feeling him pulse between them. Sensing a warmth pool in your own lower half but being too focused, and slightly ashamed, to act. You just wanted to make Joel feel good, even if your words weren’t able to do the trick with apologizing.
“Come here,” you beckoned him with just one finger as you slid off the bed, to the floor. Joel sat up, and you kneeled obediently between his legs. The two of you shared a tense, sexless look for a second before you lowered yourself back down and resumed the position.
This time, Joel could—and did—stir his hips to create some friction between your tits. His brow pinched inward with a muted concentration, and you wanted to say it looked handsome on him, that you were sorry for saying those stupid things to Tess and making him doubt your affection for him, but you kept your mouth shut. You had to remind yourself that emotions had no place between two needy, unfeeling people who just wanted to fuck.
Maybe that was how it should’ve been from the start.
But watching Joel’s face twist and contort in pleasure nearly wiped the thought clean out of your brain forever.
You felt many things for him, whether you liked it or not.
You really wished you hadn’t said the things you’d said.
Joel braced his hands at the edge of the bed on either side of him, hips working a steady pace to fuck your tits. He was staring mostly at the spot where the head of his cock was poking up through your cleavage with each thrust, entranced by the sight, and in a second, a full-throated moan was fighting its way out of his chest. He spit in his hand and paused to smear the stuff on his shaft, on your tits. Spit again and rubbed even harder.
Seeing him so cold and detached, you wanted to apologize again. Maybe beg him to say something kind.
Instead, you mumbled, “I love it when you fuck my tits.”
Joel scarcely acknowledged the remark, just letting you work yourself over him, meet his shallow thrusts, look sweet and wait patiently for him to cum all over you. When it seemed he might be ready to do it, though, Joel withdrew from you the next second and moved back on the bed. He pulled you into his lap, straddling again, but this time situated over the side of the bed—him sitting up, you perched on the flat, sturdy expanse of his thighs facing him. In the space between your bodies, Joel slid a quiet and almost careless hand to your heat, flicking the sheer fabric of your panties to the side in one go.
The moment his fingers made contact, you flinched.
It wasn’t that you were opposed to his touch, you just felt unfairly balanced in this situation. Joel appeared so stoic; you, a complete and utter wreck. Fighting fifteen different emotions at once and feeling unusually vulnerable spread open to him now, you almost didn’t register what he was doing—or what his hand might find.
Joel’s groan brought you back, though. When he rubbed his knuckles over the seam of your cunt and practically choked out twice his lung’s capacity, you had to look.
Aloof as he tried to be, the man’s desire was painted all over his expression. And his crotch. And his hand.
Well, actually, that last bit of arousal was yours.
“Fuckin’ soakin’ me, sweetie,” Joel breathed.
You perked up at the term of endearment. Watching one glistening fist of his make its way back and forth against your body, smearing sticky wet pleasure all over your mound and your folds, you found yourself gnawing your lip once more, this time for entirely different reasons.
Joel seemed to soften—even if only for a glaring carnal need, you didn’t care. You sank into this gentler touch.
“Khakis kinda suit you, Miller,” you said, off-handed.
Really, Joel looked almost as comical as he was sexy in that camp counselor getup: tan shorts stretched tight over even tanner legs, polyester top sitting pretty on wide, hulking shoulders, that silly stitched logo for the camp emblazoned over his left pec, and, of course, the nametag that didn’t belong to him but to Lucien. The whole thing was so alien to his lumberjack-chic demeanor that he nearly seemed boyish. Endearing. Some spearmint-scented hottie you might’ve had a crush on at camp years ago. You couldn’t help but smile.
Joel tried not to hold your gaze for too long.
“Don’t go pissin’ down my back and tell me it’s rainin’.”
When he slid one finger to your entrance, you tensed again, but smiled just the same and let out a breath. You felt him prod at the warm, wet skin and thumb at your clit, and something told you that he’d wanted to grin too.
“I’m serious,” you said, “Scout’s hon—ohfuckfuckfuck.”
Joel pushed one finger inside you. In spite of the ease with which he slipped between your walls, that gentle sensation made it wonderfully snug. He gripped your hip and started moving his single digit in and out, and in spite of yourself, you squirmed a bit. Joel never failed to call you out for doing that; today would be no different.
“Easy, sweet pea,” he hummed when you jumped again.
But you couldn’t help it. Your hands quickly anchored themselves to Joel’s shoulders, your legs spread wider, and your hips started stirring—bucking, really—against each teasing touch. It was still just one thick finger of his.
You glanced down and saw that it was his middle finger, in particular. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you.
“Another,” you pleaded.
“Nuh-uh.”
“You’re a mean ol— mean man.” You tried to correct course when you felt a mention of ‘old’ slip back into your vernacular, and inwardly, you cringed at your words.
Joel had already heard it. He cocked one eyebrow.
“Mean ol’ man?” he scoffed, still fingerfucking you softly. When you bucked against it, he nodded as if to say ‘fair enough.’
Then, before you could chime in, he nodded some more.
His expression was hard.
“Fuck my hand,” he said.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
You weren’t quite sure what he meant for you to do. When he nodded a third time, the gesture was accompanied by a quick dart of his eyes to the place where your cunt was being penetrated by his one finger. He curled the finger inward, and when you twitched at the hot throb of pleasure that followed, he grunted.
Fuck my hand.
Nails still searing tiny half-moons into his shoulders, you acted more out of impulse than by command. The look from Joel sure didn’t hurt, though. The second you started rolling your hips, he nodded again. Holding onto his praises for now and simply showing approbation.
“Like that,” he murmured.
All you were doing was rocking back and forth over his finger, whimpers percolating quietly in your chest, but the act alone made you feel desperate. And Joel smug.
It was like he wanted to see you getting off to this one, comparatively smaller part of him without being filled. Bucking plaintively to find that fullness and coming back empty every time. Your whimpers turned into whines.
“Need more,” you keened.
“Yeah?” Joel replied gently.
“Yeah.”
A beat, then:
“Tough shit.”
But he said it so goddamn sweet you had to do a double take to make sure you’d heard him correctly. When you met Joel’s eyes, you saw a hint of amusement lingering behind them. Then he squeezed your hip again and started helping you move into his hand, up and down.
“Only givin’ more fingers to good girls, y’hear?” he said.
“What about your cock?” You couldn’t help it.
Joel just breathed out through his nose. In a second, he went from camp counselor to disapproving father figure.
“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?”
That was all he needed to say, but the firm plunge of his middle finger certainly put a finer point on it. He curled the digit again and, upon grazing that spongy surface inside you, saw another desperate plea in your eyes.
And pleasure.
The pleasure ran almost as intense as the desperation.
Your head fell back when Joel got to making those ‘come hither’ motions again and again, thumb circling your clit, eyes trained on your figure with a marked concern. Like the prospect of not drawing an orgasm out of you in the next two minutes might very well ruin the man’s night.
“‘S’alright, honey,” Joel said quietly.
Then, finding your gaze when your head tilted back,
“Be a good girl and let go for me. Let go for daddy, hm?”
Fortunately for him, that one low hum and another flick of his middle finger and thumb were all you needed to find your release. You came on his hand with a sharp, pitiful cry and a ‘Fuckthatfeelssogooddaddyplease,’ hips working feverishly against his hand as you rode out your high. The sight of you bouncing up and down on his open palm and the way your eyes rolled back, begging him to fuck you full of his cock next, felt wildly obscene.
Joel loved obscene. Needed obscene. Hot. Febrile. Raw.
He nodded again.
Before you’d even descended fully from those staggering heights, his finger was moving too—joined by two more. Joel stuffed his index and ring fingers inside your still-pulsing hole and pretended not to hear your soft cry.
After all, you’d asked for more before. Joel was just sating your desire; your overwrought body would be fine.
“Joel,” you hissed, seizing his wrist.
“Too much?” he returned.
You tried to verbalize some answer but were cut short by a punishing stretch—all three fingers plunging in and out of your sensitive, drooling cunt and making it full of him.
“Too soon?” he tried again.
“I—”
“Too fast?”
“N—”
“Too…old?” Joel pressed after a beat.
There was an air of feigned condescension in his tone as he took on a faster pace gliding his thick, calloused fingers between your walls. You might’ve screamed if you hadn’t found your forehead pressed to his and the warmth of his irises boring into yours while he did it all. At this distance, you could discern a trace of hurt again. Something needing to be soothed inside Joel Miller.
You rutted your hips and shook your head, skull still stuck to his as you did so. Whimpers coming low.
“I didn’t…mean it,” you managed at length.
“What? That I’m ‘old as shit but wildly hot’?”
Joel wedged his fingers straight down to the knuckle and nearly tore a shriek out of your body. His eyes were surprisingly soft. Making sure your pleasure was all there.
“Hyperbole,” you choked, voice hoarse.
Then your jaw grew lax when a hand cupped your chin. All you wanted to do was melt into Joel, but you sensed something brewing again behind those honeyed eyes. Blinking was all you could do to keep your composure.
“You’re right, darlin’,” Joel said, “I am too old for you.”
Right after a clench in your tummy, a hurried word leapt up to your tongue, ‘NO!’ and you had to swallow a moan to keep from succumbing to the pleasure Joel was bringing with his fingers. Sandwiched between two orgasms was no time for a serious argument to take place, but there you were, fighting against it anyway.
“N-No,” you stammered. Stupid.
“I am.” His voice came softer somehow, more resigned.
When outright rejection of the claim seemed futile, you tried to pivot. Climax still closing in as fast as ever.
“I don’t care about that,” you hissed, exhaling hard when the first ripples of bliss crept up toward your stomach.
Joel watched you with careful eyes.
“Yeah? And Tess?”
“Joel—”
“Or Tommy.”
“I don’t—”
“Everyone else?”
Almost against your will, those minuscule ripples turned to waves of full-blown euphoria, and then you were clenching again on Joel’s hand and crying out in climax. You willed your gaze not to stray from his, but it was tough. Especially when the eyes beneath your own seemed so fucking morose and removed from you.
Don’t do this to me, Miller. Don’t do it, don’t do it.
In the wake of what should’ve been consummate satisfaction, you found yourself retreating to a place more akin to starvation—suddenly eager to get your mouth over his and start kissing, tonguing, and scraping your teeth like you’d missed out on a full week’s worth of meals. Feeling selfish but also uncertain how else to proceed—was Joel Miller breaking up with you here?
You couldn’t be sure, because he kissed you back. Joel kissed you and cupped your cheeks, then chased your frame all the way down to the coarse, scratchy sheets of the bed, where he was quick to climb on top of you.
Hell, it seemed breathing was too tough to accomplish with your frenzied pace and the continuous stream of open-mouthed kisses placed anywhere and everywhere. A groan from Joel trembled between your lips as you helped him get his shorts and boxers the rest of the way down his legs—all but dragging them with your heels—and he tightened a fist in your hair when they were off.
“I shouldn’t’a come here,” he mumbled.
“But you did,” you panted.
Both of you got lost in another onslaught of kisses, and you tried not to sigh. Joel was still battling something.
Even as he peeled your panties off and lined himself up with your entrance, he seemed resolved to stay quiet. Holding your gaze and not saying what had to be said.
He was a lot like you in that way.
You kept kissing him anyway.
The events that followed seemed to you little more than fleeting, happy scenes from a film you’d always wanted to see—an eager Joel, a caring Joel, an I-don’t-think-I’m-physically-capable-of-holding-you-any-closer Joel. The weight of his cock a welcome friend and the kisses somehow far too intimate to be considered friendly at all. You’d almost forgotten you were at a camp designed to prevent this very thing from happening between two stupid, impulsive people like you, and you didn’t care.
All you knew was a yawning stretch—that aching, empty void filled to perfection by Joel’s member—and the shockwaves of pleasure that vibrated in bands all the way down to the balls of your feet. You felt safe and secure caged between two muscular arms, and you reveled in a warmth that spanned every inch of your body touching his. The weight suffocating and somehow not oppressive; Joel cradled your head to make sure of it.
“Ain’t…hurtin’ ya, am I?” he said when you winced.
You shook your head against his sweaty palms to say that he wasn’t; you were just adjusting. He scanned your face for any trace of insincerity but found nothing.
In this tender position, your brain was ready to burst—whether from guilt, shame, ruthless self-loathing, or a sobering sense of closeness, you weren’t sure. All four seemed to form the impetus for the words that came next, which were soft, repeated apologies against Joel’s mouth. He swallowed each one without a second thought.
“Quit sayin’ it,” he rasped, low.
“I’m sorry, Joel, I’m sorr—”
Soft lips again. ‘S’okay, honey.’
You weren’t sure why, but your face felt extra hot.
Joel pressed his thumbs on either side of it while he kissed you and went deeper. Then he squeezed even more, and your breath hitched quietly in your throat.
Aw, shit, he could probably feel your heart running amok in your chest and thrumming like crazy right now.
“Ain’t nothin’—” Joel paused to send one measured thrust along your cervix, “—to be sorry for. Nothin’.”
Your legs tightened at his sides when his hips started to snap in quick, stuttered motions, desperate for more friction and depth. He got both, and he groaned feeling you tighten around him as he filled your cunt to the brim. The silky warmth of your walls drawing him in was almost too much, and every now and then he’d have to slow to mutter some, ‘’S’fuckin’ chokin’ me, honey, ya feel that?’ or ‘This pussy’s just made to take me, huh?’
Joel asked like he actually needed the reassurance. As if the slick, dripping arousal coating his length and the sounds of your whimpers mixed in with those wet slaps weren’t enough—as if he had to have deeper consolation.
He was splitting you open and looked guilty as he did it.
Still shaking with each thrust, you helped him slide his shirt over his head and bring him bare, chest-to-chest with you. You couldn’t ignore the tension any longer.
“Joel, I fuckin’ love— I need you inside,” you managed.
“You do?”
“Uh-huh.”
His face softened.
“‘S’mine, isn’t it?”
He said it so fast you couldn’t make out if it were really a question or a simple statement of fact. His balls routinely smacking your ass, eyes searching yours, always gentle.
“Say that you’re mine.”
No, Joel—don’t do that, don’t say it like that.
Your visceral reaction was to recoil. You couldn’t because he had you pinned, but damn did you want to—not him, not this, not now, Joel, why would you fucking say that?
The look in his eyes now surpassed the hurt from before. It was open and aching, even as he drilled your body in two at a near-ruthless pace. Asking you so sincerely.
The obstinacy inside you was almost laughable. Damn near sent your head spinning in a fit of hysterics at how much you wanted to say but wouldn’t; how much you sensed lay waiting to fly off Joel’s tongue but couldn’t. If you were any more emotionally pent-up you might’ve ruptured a blood vessel and lost all ability to think.
It didn’t help that you were both about to cum.
Or that Joel’s right hand was fumbling for your clit.
His expression was steady as ever when you jumped, made a whining noise below him, and grabbed his wrist. You looked down to where your bodies were joined and got a dizzying glimpse of that sight: cunt swallowing Joel’s cock repeatedly, pleasure pooling between your two bodies, then a digit at that little bundle of nerves.
He kissed your hairline and hummed.
“C’mon, pretty girl. Whose pussy is this?”
His thrusts sped up, along with his thumb.
“Don’t.” Not an answer but a warning: tread lightly, Joel.
He kissed your forehead again. And again. For a second you thought he might stay that way until you both came, but then his lips were finding yours, mumbling softly,
“Say no one’s gonna fuck you but me.”
“But—”
“None of those pencil-dick douchebag Delta Sigma whatever-the-fuck ya call ‘ems—” Joel continued, unfazed, “—not your lab partner, not your hallmate—”
His cock was gliding in and out of you at a punishing pace now. Wonderfully slick with sounds obscenely piercing to your ears. You could feel Joel digging in the depths of your tight, throbbing cunt, could see his expression contort with much the same pleasure you were experiencing yourself, and could very well smell the faint aroma of American Spirits still staining his breath. Joel Miller was a sick fuck for what he was doing to you, and he knew it. You nipped at his lower lip in between tender kisses and quietly-spoken words, and whimpered.
“—not your TAs, not your professors—” he pressed on.
You opened your mouth to let a lewd moan escape when Joel lifted his hand to shove a thumb inside. Instinctively, you sucked the whole thing straight down to the knuckle.
“Nobody but me, y’hear that?” Afforded better leverage with his finger wedged between your teeth, he shook your head a little as he fucked you. Watched you bob and nod a wordless ‘yes’ in doe-eyed complaisance while his cock drove shockwaves of pleasure straight through you.
He rubbed his thumb back and forth, and you let him.
You drooled all over that man’s finger like it might’ve been supplying oxygen to your lungs, and when Joel leaned in and said, ‘Ya like that, sweet pea?’, you answered in the affirmative. Or at least as close as you could get while Joel was filling up his two favorite holes.
Your orgasm was maybe two strokes away from shattering bones, it seemed. Now was his chance.
Swiftly, Joel retracted his touch just far enough to drag a string of saliva out of your mouth—then deliver a taut but gentle slap to your cheek. The soft thwack, combined with the sounds your bodies were making down below, served only to elevate the pornographic pitch of your moan:
“Joel!”
“That’s right.”
Joel’s mouth hovered an inch over yours, half-smirking, as if waiting to suck the words clean off of your lips. You whined when his thrusts got quicker and the mouth that was grinning got to kissing your own again. Talking dirty, too.
“Show me who this cunt belongs to. Say it,” he grunted.
You clenched, kissed him back, were just barely aware of the words you were trying to form when you stuttered some unintelligible, ‘Y-Y—ohfuckdaddyjustlikethatoh—’
Oh.
Your eyes widened to Joel’s, and before you could even begin to process what was happening to your body, his name just snapped off your tongue like a shot. A shriek. Some blissfully half-strangled moan that Joel captured between his teeth as he fucked you into the mattress and held your body tight to his own. His palm was wet.
Your legs were wet.
The soft, heaving juncture between your bodies was wet.
You were only dimly aware of the sensation as you dug your heels in Joel’s back and let out a series of cries and moans, but then that fluttering feeling inside made you flinch. A pulsing between your thighs and a…warmth.
You were still blinking through a post-euphoric haze when you felt a soft heat simmer and sink within you.
Did Joel just…cum inside you? Again?
“You dumb motherfucker,” you hissed without hesitation.
You’d just managed to shove him away—not far, but away—when you scrambled into a sitting position and slapped a hand over your stomach. Expecting to feel a churning and an awful pinch as you came to make out some vague sensation of Joel’s seed painting your insides, you were surprised when you didn’t get it at all.
In point of fact, Joel had just sprayed a full Jackson Pollock onto your stomach and was blinking, still fisting his cock as you quickly made your way back to your feet.
Where was that wetness coming from?
You stood and stared down at your stomach. Your legs. The translucent, trickling something that had paved a clear path between your thighs and all over Joel’s front. It didn’t make sense, unless—
“You fuckin’ squirted!” Joel cheered.
Your first instinct was to make a face.
That shit only happened in poorly produced pornos and movies based on books by Colleen Hoover, not real-life human beings. What the hell was this man on about?
“Be fucking serious,” you scowled, reaching for a stray shirt on the floor. Before realizing it was even yours, you hastily swiped several big globs of Joel’s cum with it. Your face grew even more enflamed, and yourself, oddly…ashamed. You couldn’t quite make sense of why Joel was grinning so big, or why you felt so embarrassed by what appeared to be a natural bodily function, but you suspected it probably had something to do with the state of sex education in Texas. Those fuckers definitely skipped squirting in favor of abstinence-only rhetoric.
Still weird. Still gross. You wished Joel would stop smiling.
“Lose the look or I’ll slap that fuckin’ grey off your head.”
Admittedly, neither aftercare nor communication was your métier. You started throwing on clothes, annoyed.
Meanwhile, Joel was swiping moisture off his abdomen three thick fingers at a time and wiggling the residue up for you to see—‘All it is is a sign of good lovin’, sweets, ain’t nothin’a be ashamed of!’—and you gave him just one finger in return. You were sliding your shorts up your legs and attempting to scrap the jizz off your FEDRA top when Joel started shrugging on his stolen clothes, too.
Your back was turned to him, eyes scanning the almost too-calm outdoors through the window a minute later, when you felt an arm snake close around your waist.
“Tastes a little like honey,” Joel crooned in your ear, doubtlessly smirking as he swayed you, “Only sweeter.”
You rolled your eyes. No cunt tasted like a honeycomb.
And you tried to say as much when he stroked over the strip of exposed skin between your shorts and the hem of your shirt, squeezing you tighter, but Joel was too good. He spidered a teasing touch over your tummy and yanked you back into his chest when you squealed and tried to break free. Then your sides, your ribcage, your shoulder blades—anyplace Joel could tickle, he tried to—and most spots, you were squeamish as hell. You clamped a hand over your half-open, giggling mouth, and when you felt him flip you around, you didn’t protest.
Suddenly, Joel’s hands were on either side of your face. He wasn’t smiling quite so big anymore but nevertheless maintained a kind glint behind his eyes. They were soft.
“‘M’sorry,” he said.
Then, pausing as if to consider his words, he said,
“You did great.”
He stopped again to press a kiss on the tip of your nose.
“So good.”
When he saw another smile twitch at the corners of your lips, as though asking him for more, he kissed those too.
“If that was your first time with…that…I’m, uh…”
“What?”
Another beat. Another stupid, stubbled grin.
“The luckiest…senior citizen sonovabitch, I guess.”
At the tail end of that, and once Joel had punctuated his sentence with another tender peck, you met his gaze again. Somehow, it had only gotten softer. His thumbs were searing the gentlest of imprints in the apples of your cheeks, his breaths were even and warm, and if you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought the man was contemplating saying something else to you then.
He didn’t.
The bridge to an old Billy Joel song made sure of that.
“And when she’s walkin’, she’s lookin’ so f-i-i-i-ine.”
You heard gravel crunch outside the cabin.
“And when she’s talkin’, she’ll say that she’s m-i-i-i-ine.”
Footsteps bounding up the half-rotted, cedar steps.
“She’ll say I’m not so tough just because I’m in love wi—SHIT.”
Tess’s face went blank the second the door swung open.
Thankfully, both of you were clothed. You and Joel leapt apart like she’d just caught you in doggy, though. And Tess looked like she might’ve seen an asscheek or two with the way she was staring at you both, letting the screen door slam shut, and a wordless ‘what-the-fuck’ caught somewhere in the tepid air between you three.
You stared at Tess, and Tess stared at you. Joel peered over her shoulder for the arrival of any more onlookers or folks just wanting to sing ‘Uptown Girl’ in your general vicinity. Fortunately, no one else appeared behind her.
But Tess looked awestruck enough for fifty people. She blinked and visibly swallowed as her gaze shifted to Joel.
“So FEDRA does dick appointments now?” she hissed.
“No!”
“I’m not—”
“He’s from the other camp.”
“You’re shitting me. Absolutely shitting me right now.”
You brought both hands to your face in a stifling, quiet desperation, unsure what to do. Joel just blinked back.
“I’m—we’re—” he started.
“Fucking!” Tess bit back, “You are so fucking. Raw.”
She wasn’t wrong. Her sixth sense for knowing who was having clandestine sex in her bed was kind of insane.
But, where you expected a look of horror to crawl into those taut, too-smart-for-her-own-good features, you found your bunkmate starting to raise her eyebrows.
Then laugh.
Tess threw her head back and laughed because she thought you were boinking a FEDRA camp counselor.
Joel shared a similar look of surprise but didn’t laugh.
“Yeah, I’m uh…J—” Again, he made as if to speak, to introduce himself, but Tess cut him off. About to wheeze.
“Lucien Flores, you dirty dog!” she cackled.
Joel glanced down at his nametag, started to shake his head, and probably didn’t anticipate Tess smacking him on the shoulder in a semi-congratulatory sort of way. Given a little more muscle to the playful punch, she just might’ve knocked him over. Joel was then trying to pry the pin off his polo just as you stepped closer to her.
“Tess, he’s…” You considered spilling the beans en masse but quickly decided against it. You’d have to stick to the barest of bones if you had any hope of escaping this place. So, resuming, you squeezed her arm and just said:
“Flores is gonna bust us out. Get your shit and we’ll go.”
Theresa Servopoulos didn’t need to be told twice.
And when she scrambled over to her sex-stricken bunk, inquired with a hurried but patently grossed out expression about who the fuck had wet the bed while she was gone, Joel didn’t hesitate—he said it was him.
“FEDRA man with a piss kink. I like you already, Lucien.”
#ONE CABIN 🏚️#ONE BAND#ONE DREAM#ONE DIRECTION#IF YOU THOUGHT I WAS GONNA BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS YOU WOULD BE MISTAKEN HAHAHAHA#joel miller#joel miller tlou#joel miller smut#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us#tlou#the last of us fic#joel miller x you#dbf!joel
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fratboy!harry x you
hi hi! its been awhile. finally finished this after 3834273 weeks it feels like. its also my first reader fic so....hope you like it HAHAHA.... :)
the one where your friends introduce you to Harry, you go on a trip and things get interesting. featuring a lake house, hiking, and a cherry sucker.
wc: 5.8k
tw: smut 18+, spanking, choking, light dom!harry dynamic, brief clit slapping, brief face slapping, lil bit of cum play, size kink, breeding kink if you squint. idk if i missed anything but as always let me know if i did :)
cherry sucker
Finding solace in the chirping birds and chattering on the street that could be heard from your open window, you stood in front of your closet, clad in a little white tank and baby blue undies, preparing your bag for a camping trip you and your friends had planned. Spring semester has concluded and this trip will commemorate the start of summer vacation. You daydream about the sun glistening off the ripples of the lake water, the smell of the grass wafting in the wind as the sun warms the earth while you pack your bag.
While you were excited for summer, you wanted to get a head start on your reading for fall semester. You had a textbook or two in the bottom of your bag—poli sci books, because you had heard the professor was relentless with his lesson plan and you wanted to go in with no surprises. You hear the faintest footsteps down stairs, growing louder the closer they drew up the stairs. Your door swings open and Faye strides through, red hair flowing behind her at the pace she was walking. She comes up behind you, smacking your ass making you yelp.
“Faye!” You squeal, clutching the cheek that was now turning red with your best friend's hand print.
“I’m so envious of your ass, I just had to.” She falls backwards on your bed, arms sprawling beside her. “It’s just so tempting.” She giggles and you turn back to your closet.
“I’m so glad we actually have time to see each other now that classes are over. School’s been so busy I feel like all I’ve done is sleep and go to class.”
“Is that why you have a fucking textbook in your bag?” Faye raises her eyebrow at your duffle and picks one up. “Russian socioeconomic structure? What even is this?”
“It’s for Professor Sykes. I’ve heard he's brutal and I want to be prepared.”
“You are not bringing this. You have a whole summer ahead of you to study.” Faye scoffs, pausing for a moment. “If you bring this book on this trip I’ll throw it in the lake myself.”
“Then you’ll owe me $200. Besides, what if I get bored?” You cross your arms over your chest and Faye looks at you like you’ve grown another head.
“There’s a lake! A lake!” She throws her hands up in the air, laughing at your determination. You bend down, opening your drawer and pulling out a skimpy yellow bikini to throw in your bag. “By the way, Josh is bringing a friend. His name’s Harry…Styles I think. Do you know him?” You shake your head.
“Know of him, don’t know him though.”
“Oh. Well he’s single…and kind of hot.” Faye giggles and you shake her head again.
“No thanks. I’m not really into the dating scene right now.”
“No one said anything about dating. Just maybe for a little…fun.” This time, it’s your turn to look at Faye like she’s the one who’s grown another head. “Fine. If you don’t want to…maybe he’ll be our third.” She wiggles her eyebrows and you widen your eyes in horror at her suggestion of asking Harry to join her and her boyfriend in their sexual endeavors.
Before you can get another thought in, heavy footsteps clamber up the stairs and it’s Josh, Harry in tow with a backpack slung over his shoulder and suddenly your room feels very small. Josh flicks his eyes to you, smiling and sitting next to Faye on your bed.
“Pauly and Alex are on their way. We’re putting all the shit in their car and you guys are gonna ride with us.” He says, gesturing his finger between the two of you and you nod. The window open brings a warm breeze into the room, blowing your sketchbook pages until it lands on one with a drawing of a man.
Not just any man…it was your ex. Your eyes flick to everyone and you rush over to shut it before anyone can catch it. It was an old drawing, and a hobby you hadn’t picked back up since things ended and you really didn’t feel like rehashing the breakup with Faye. Faye wasn’t the biggest fan of him, and for good reason after he cheated on you with the TA in one of his classes last semester.
Harry stands in the doorway, chewing gum between his molars, his jaw flexing and glances around your room—the bedroom of a girl whom he’d never met, and it felt very personal…like he was getting a peak into who you were as a person. An overflowing bookshelf, handmade drawings stuck to a corkboard on the wall over the desk. Faye and Josh were talking in hushed whispers and he tilted his head to the side as he had the perfect view of your ass as you were turned around and facing your desk. He smirks at the red hand mark left there, and he could feel his cock twitching in his pants at the thoughts running through his head. He drops his gaze as you turn back around to walk towards your closet again. His eyes meet yours and you smile, a greeting showing you were just being nice, and he wonders if you always walk around half dressed in front of strangers. He clears his throat.
“Sykes next semester?” He asks, voice with a hint of an accent you weren’t expecting and you nod.
“How’d you know?” He gestures his elbow towards your bag, the textbook on top of your clothes and your mouth forms and “O” and you nod.
“He teaches that entire fucking book every year. It’s such a snooze fest.” He pauses. “Do you like Russian literature?” You nod again, gesturing to your bookshelf filled with classics and fantasy and romance. You had a few authors on the shelf, but not as many as you would like. He brings his backpack around to his side, unzipping and reaching in. He pulls out a tattered book, crinkles in the cover and the corners turning up, all characteristics of a well loved piece and hands it to you. “Read this instead. A lot more interesting.” He smirks and your gaze drops to the words on the cover. A collection of poems by Anna Akhmatova. In the short conversation you were having you didn’t realize that you had been left alone with him. He smiles, a sly grin spreading on his lips almost like he knew he was about to be a menace.
“By the way, blue looks good on you.” He flicks his gaze down before meeting your eyes again. You feel your cheeks burning instantly as he walks out the door laughing to himself as he stumbles his way down the stairs, leaving you to finish packing alone.
The car ride to the cabin had everyone buzzing with anticipation. Faye had called shotgun, and you and Harry shared a look when she did. He smirked and you looked away and quickly climbed into the backseat. The entire ride you were consumed with a nervous energy that you couldn’t quite place. Harry had his hand splayed out on the seat beside you and when he leaned forward to talk to Josh, the tip of his pinky barely brushed your skin and you tried not to think about it too hard for the rest of the ride over.
It took no time for you to clamber out of the car and claim your room inside for the weekend. Tossing your bag onto the floor by the door, you flopped down on the fluffy mattress holding the book Harry lent you to your chest. You were fiddling with the cover when Faye waltzed in and leaned against the foot of the bed.
“Get up. We’re going on a hike.” She said giddy with excitement and you cocked your eyebrow at her.
“Think I’ll pass.”
“Not an option. Everyone else is going.” She crosses her arms and leans on the doorframe.
“I didn’t bring shoes for a hike.” You half laugh at her with a shake of your head and she narrows her eyes.
“You can wear a pair of mine. Let’s go.” Faye gestures and you groan, tossing the book back onto the bed with a soft thud against the duvet. You pad down the hallway after her, slumped over feigning protest like a toddler and she hands you a pair of her sneakers once you reach her room. Slipping them on, you plait your hair behind your head quickly and messily as you find your way to the foyer where everyone is gathered and waiting to leave. None of them look thrilled either as they follow Faye out the door to the path behind the house.
The June sun was high in the sky and the only reprieve you were able to get from the heat was the occasional shade of the trees along the path. You and Harry had fallen behind, the rest of the group up ahead and through heavy breaths you would sneak glances from the corner of your eye as the sun glistened off the light sheen of sweat coating his shoulders and his chest. He had popped a cherry sucker in his mouth not long ago and you watched as he moved it from one cheek to the other with his tongue and caught your mind wandering to what his tongue might feel like running along the expanse of your skin. You walk in silence, hands brushing slightly from the uneven terrain and you want to apologize for repeatedly bumping him but you don’t.
“Does she always make you do shit like this?” He huffs from behind you, stepping over a fallen limb.
“Unfortunately.” You grumble back, trying not to roll your ankle stepping over rocks bigger than the palm of your hand.
Even though this hike was the last thing Harry wanted to be doing, he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed your company, though little conversation had been exchanged since the moment in your room. His eyes trailed over your body, noticing the bead of sweat rolling down your chest and his tongue darts out over his lips, wanting nothing more than to trail his tongue down the same path. He watched the way your thighs flexed as you stepped over limbs and branches and he thought about them wrapped around his waist, driving into you over and over while your fingers leave marks over his torso. He pulls his shirt over his head, unable to take the heat of the afternoon any longer and he tucks it into the waistband of his shorts. He’s noticed you watching him too, stealing glances out of the corner of your eye and biting your teeth into the pillowy flesh of your bottom lip. He’s convinced that he could do anything and you’d melt into the palm of his hand, so desperate to please him and be good for him. He smirks to himself as you divert your eyes ahead, away from his now bare torso and towards the ground.
He looks at you briefly before his eyes flick ahead, and you don’t know that he’s judging how long it would take for your friends to notice if he pulled you out of sight for a moment. He decides it’s worth the risk, lightly grabbing your arm and pulling you behind a nearby tree. You feel the bark against your back as he cages your head between his arms and you look up at him with wide eyes. All you can hear is the pounding of your heart against your ribcage at his close proximity.
So close you can smell the cherry on his breath, hear the faint sound as the confection clatters against his teeth. Your eyes focus on the white stick poking from between his lips and he watches you. His hands dig into the roughness of the oak and his chest pressed against yours. Suddenly the heat of the afternoon feels suffocating. He brings his own hand to his mouth, plucking the stick from between his teeth and the sticky residue touches your lips. Upon instinct, your tongue darts out to collect, catching the sweetness and savoring it for a moment.
“Open.” His voice is low and gravelly, and for some reason you find yourself obeying his command before you can even think too hard about it. Your lips part and you stick out your tongue in anticipation, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you and he hums. “Can y’hold this for me, puppy?”
A heat swirls in your core, and without noticing your thighs clench together and a whine escapes your throat as you nod. Harry places the sweet candy on your tongue and your lips wrap around the stick slick from his own salivation. “Good girl.” He mutters, stepping away and creating space between the two of you. You snap out of the trance you seemingly had fallen into and scurry away, catching up to your friends and leaving him laughing behind you.
Nightfall comes before you have a chance to think about it. You had taken a quick nap after you returned from the hike and it was much needed, considering your mind was going haywire and you just needed a break from your thoughts drifting to Harry. It was quiet out here, you and Harry the only ones left sitting next to the fire Josh and Pauly had started a couple of hours ago. You were huddled up under a blanket, the air blowing off the lake making it feel colder than it actually was. Frogs were humming by the water and the crickets were chirping in the grass, the sounds of nature around you made you feel calm. You had the book Harry had loaned you resting against your thigh as you read the prose on the weathered pages. Harry had his head leaned back, fingers weaved together on his chest with his eyes closed. Occasionally you would peek over at him and he seemed tranquil. You weren’t sure why he was still here with you, but maybe he was just enjoying the fire like you were. You had purposely avoided him after the incident on the hike, the memory still causing an arousal to pool beneath the denim of your shorts and you tried like hell to push it from your mind.
“Let’s swim.” He states, pulling you from your thoughts. You raised your brow at him, a quizzical look.
“I’ll pass.” You blow out a laugh and he turns his head towards you then.
“Why? Faye and Josh are off somewhere, probably fucking, and Pauly and Alex are doing bong rips inside. Not really a fan of that…they're incessantly annoying when they’re high. So let’s go swim.” He says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as if it was the most sound choice of activity for this time of night.
“It’s cold, and I’m actually enjoying this book of poems you lent me.” You tell him, and because you’re not looking at him at that second you don’t see the way the corner of his mouth twitches into a half smile.
“Anna Akhmatova is interesting. But you have all weekend to read it.” He turns to face you then, you catch the movement out of your peripheral.
“I also have all weekend to swim.” You tease him. He’s silent for a moment and you turn the page to read the next poem. He shifts in his seat.
“Alright. I didn’t want it to have to come to this…” He says, sighing. He stands, making his way over to you. Before you can process what he’s doing, he snatches the book and throws it onto a neighboring chair. In one swift movement, he picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he walks towards the dock. You thrash and kick but it’s no use, not when he’s stronger than you’ll ever be.
“Harry! Put me down!” You exclaim, laughing in the process and you feel his chest against your thighs. He doesn’t respond. “Okay! I surrender. I’ll swim with you. Please just don’t throw me in.” You try to reason with him and he stops, pausing his movements and taking in your words. He plants your feet on the weathered wood, and you look up at him with narrowed eyes as he smiles down at you, a crooked grin that had your knees feeling weak. “That wasn’t funny. I don’t have a swim suit on either.”
“I guess that gives us a perfect excuse to go skinny dipping then.” He states as if there’s nothing wrong with that scenario.
“Respectfully, no. I’ll swim in my clothes.” You counter back.
“Sweet girl, it’s nothing you or I haven’t seen before. Be mature.” He teases and you want to laugh, but you cross your arms over your chest, instinctively making yourself smaller. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of his shorts before looking back at you, noticing your hesitation and he stops. “We really don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He puts his hands on your arms, and you shake your head, looking out at the ripples on the surface lit by the moon.
“No it’s—I’m not—it’s fine. I want to. I just haven’t really taken my clothes off in front of a guy in—since…” You pause, collecting your thoughts before looking up at him. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t know why I’m being this way. I think I’m just nervous.”
“You don’t have to feel that way around me. Promise.” He smiles and turns back around, pushing his shorts down so you have a view of his bare ass. Your cheeks redden as you avert your gaze elsewhere, and he jumps into the water with a splash. You can’t see him, not until he pokes his head back up and shakes the water from his hair. “It feels great.” He covers his eyes with his hands. “I won’t look if you don’t want me to. Not until you’re in the water.” He says and you nod, and then realizing he can’t see you clear your throat.
“Okay.” Your voice feels small. Hesitantly you unbutton your shorts, sliding them down along with your underwear and pulling the sweatshirt over your head leaving you bare and exposed, and you hoped and prayed that Alex and Pauly weren’t watching out the window. You drop it to the dock, your clothes and his making separate piles, taking a step towards the edge and looking down into the water. Here goes nothing, you say to yourself and leap in. And he was right, it really did feel great. It envelopes around you as you swim upwards and breach the surface, wiping your eyes and opening them. He’s there in front of you, a smile plastered on his face.
“See, s’not so bad, right?” He asks and you shake your head again as you tread the water. And you both stay like that for a while, swimming and floating. He floats on his back and you try a little too hard to not let your gaze travel south, focusing on his face and how content he looks with his eyes closed. You’re too busy staring at the tattoos littering his torso when he says something you don’t quite catch.
“Hm?” Your gaze flits back to his face and he’s smiling.
“I said,"Do you like what you see?” He laughs and you can feel your cheeks redden because he caught you staring at him.
“I’m sorry.” You apologize sheepishly and he swims over to you, closing the distance and you bite back a grin at the close proximity.
“Don’t need to apologize, sweet girl.” He says, his voice low and he brings his hand up to thumb over your lips, parting them before his thumb runs over your cheek. “Be lying if I said I haven’t been staring at you all night.” He confesses and you think if you were nervous before, then you’re not sure what you’re feeling right now. It feels like a stampede of elephants is running through your belly as he runs the backs of his fingers across your cheek. You decide to just rip the bandaid off and go for it. Your hands find his face and you crash your lips to his, and he’s taken off guard but the next second his hands dip under the water and he pulls you into him, the warmth of your bodies melding together underneath the surface. Upon instinct, your legs wrap around his waist as you push your chest into him, causing him to tighten his grip on your waist, dimpling the skin beneath his fingertips.
It was almost like neither of you needed to speak, once the kiss had broken you both swam fervently towards the dock. He hoists you up by your waist, quickly dressing just to go inside and get undressed again. He pulls you by your hand towards the cabin, and you say a silent prayer that your friends who were in here made their way outside.
By the grace of some higher power, the house was empty and the air inside was cold and smelled of the aftershocks of bong rips and a half smoked joint. Harry pulled you down the hall, into his room, and shut the door behind him with a click of the lock.
He smirks and he pushes you down into the bed, hair wet and sticking to the skin of your neck. He crawls over you after pulling your shorts off and throwing them somewhere across the room, slotting a knee between your thighs and instinctively you grind against him, gripping onto his biceps. He hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties and slides them down your thighs in one swift move, and you kick them the rest of the way off in anticipation.
“Been thinking about taking those off since I saw you prancing around your room in them this morning.” His voice drops an octave as he ghosts the tip of his nose along your cheek , tracing the outline of your jaw as you desperately move your hips seeking for any friction it would give you. He pulls back, looking over your features and you can see his pupils blown from his own pleasure.
“Look at you.” He coos, clicking his tongue behind his teeth. “Taking before I can even give anything to you, so selfish.” He purrs, and somehow the tone of it makes you stop, halting the movement of your hips.
“No. Go ahead, angel. Wanna watch you get yourself off just from riding my thigh. Need it so bad, can’t even help yourself.” He coos, but his tone is condescending and you almost question him. He raises a brow, running a thumb over your cheek delicately. The harsh tone of his voice and the softness of his touch playing mind games with you. “Do it. Be a good girl.” He encourages you, and you feel like it’s a trap.
“N-no. Want whatever you wanna give me. I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.” You pout your lower lip out and he thumbs over it, pulling it down before it bounces back into place. You like that he takes initiative, being dominant over you like it comes so easily for him. He can see the wheels in your mind turning and he cocks his head to the side.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just never done this before. Never had someone be…” You trail off, but he nods like he already knew what you were going to say.
“I see. Sweet girl’s never had someone take control over her?” You shake your head. He rolls his lip between his teeth, eyes flittering around your face. “But you crave it, don’t you? Just wanna be a cock-drunk little slut? Wanna have someone filling you, telling you what to do?” His words penetrate your brain and your eyes flutter closed. “Answer me. Is that what you want?” He demands and you nod, faster than you ever have and he flashes his pretty smile at you.
“Yes. Please.” Finding your voice, begging him. He shifts, pressing his thigh into your center and a whimper falls from your lips, the heat growing between your thighs.
“Go.” He leans down, pressing his lips to your pulse point and trailing kisses down your collar bone. Slowly, your hips begin to move and you’re almost embarrassed at your arousal coating his skin, glistening in the soft glow of the lamp. You push the thoughts away, focusing on your pleasure as you feel his hardening length against your thigh, pressing into you. You reach down, palming him through the material before he grabs your wrist and pins it above your head. “Didn’t tell you you could touch.” He mumbles against your skin and you whine in protest. Your hips move faster now, and you’re so close. Just as you’re about to tip over the edge, he pulls away and your lungs deflate, a breath being taken away from you. He stands over you, pushing his shorts down and your eyes widen at the sight of him. You want to reach out and grab him, pump his cock with your hand but you refrain. He leans over you again, planting kisses down your chest and dipping in the valley between your tits, his nose ghosting over your skin.
“Want you to tell me red if you wanna stop, okay? Green if you wanna keep going. Got it?” He asks and you nod. He peeks up at you through his lashes and cocks his brow. “Words, puppy. Can’t hear a nod or a shake.”
“Yes. I’m—yes. Got it” You’re breathless with your answer. He peppers small kisses over your navel, gripping your hips between his fingers as his head dips lower, kissing the insides of both thighs, trailing his tongue over your skin and purposely skipping over your weeping hole just to make you squirm under his grip. He parts you open then, collecting your arousal on his tongue and the wicked sensation makes your back arch from the bed, pushing your core closer to him and he forces you back down.
“Uh-uh. Stay still or I’ll stop.” He mumbles, and a whine bubbles in your throat. He laps lazily st your core, circling and flattening his tongue over your clit as you try your hardest to keep your hips still. His fingers dimple your skin, digging into the muscle underneath. He knew he was gripping hard enough to leave small bruises in the shape of his fingertips, and he wanted to. Wanted you to remember his head between your thighs as you shattered just from the flick of his tongue against your sensitive bud. You’re a mess of moans and panting his name over and over. He pulls your clit between his teeth and your hips jolt upwards and he pushes you back down to the mattress. He pulls away, and your chest heaves at the loss of contact but a cry escapes your throat when he lands a light smack to your center, and the pain morphes into pleasure as tears well up in your eyes at the sting.
“Told you to stay still. Can’t follow simple directions, angel?”
“M’s—sorry.” You gasp and he glances up at you, noticing your wet lashes and he props himself up on his elbows.
“What's your color, sweet girl?” His tone is gentle, planting a soft kiss to the top of your thigh and peeking up at you from under his lashes.
“Green.” You answer eagerly and he smiles against your skin, crawling back up to level with your eyes. His lips find yours and you open, allowing him to push his tongue into your mouth against your own, the room around you melting away. It’s slow, sensual and full of desire. He doesn’t pull away as he lines himself up with you, the tip of his cock teasing your aching hole and you move your hips trying like hell to get him further inside.
“So needy.” He mumbles against your lips and pulls your bottom one between his teeth, nipping gently. He pushes into you slowly, your mouth dropping open as he lays his forehead against your collarbone. “So tight, sweet girl. I don’t think m’gonna fit.” He pushes into you further, teeth marking your skin as he groans against your skin and you whine at the sting of him stretching you.
“Fuck, Harry.” You whimper, he cages your head between his hands, holding himself up as his biceps flex and extend, the sinewy tissue underneath his skin prominent. He looks down between your bodies, where he's halfway sheathed inside your pussy and he chuckles, a breathy laugh that morphs into a sigh.
“Pretty little pussy looks so pitiful like this. Can’t do it, puppy.” He pants, and you know somewhere in the back of your mind that he’s just playing a part, but it doesn’t stop the cry that escape from your throat as you beg him to fuck you.
“Please, Harry. Need you. Want you so much. Can take it, promise. Please.” You look up at him with wide eyes and he admires you for a moment, taking in the pout playing on your pretty mouth that he just wants to kiss away, the tears welling in your eyes that he’ll wipe away if they fall. The need in your voice letting him know you’d do anything he asks of you in this moment.
“Alright, I’ll give it to you. Gonna go slow til you’re all stretched out f’me.” He palms your thighs, hiking them around his waist and continues to fill you, your head lulling to the side as your eyes flutter closed and your jaw falls slack when he reaches to the hilt, balls resting against your ass as his head falls back. “So fucking good, angel. Look at me, wanna see those pretty eyes.”
So you listen, do the best you can to force your eyes open as he starts to rock his hips into you, pulling out to the tip before filling you up again and again. He hikes your leg over his shoulder, kissing down your calf as he sets his rhythm, going deeper from this angle. His eyes never leave yours as he groans and nibbles on your skin, peppering small bites and then soothing with his tongue. He hits the right spot every time, and when your eyes finally betray you and fall closed, you feel a smack land on your cheek. Not hard, but just enough to sting and you whimper.
“Thought you were a good girl.” He says through gritted teeth and he drives into you harder.
“I-I am. Want to be good for you.” He grunts at your response, he pulls out and flips you over before pulling your ass up in the air so you sit on your knees with your face down in the mattress. He palms your ass, landing a smack to your cheek. He rubs over the spot gently, soothing as you push closer into his touch and he's climbing behind you, lining up and pushing back in and it feels even better from this angle. Hitting every spot just right and you swear you see stars. He reaches around you, pushing on your tummy just under your navel and wraps his other hand around your throat lightly, pulling you up.
Your back is flush with his chest, skin sticking together from the light sheen of sweat coating both your bodies. One hand squeezing the sides of your neck and the other pressing still on your belly and he nips at your ear.
“Can feel me all the way in your tummy, can’t you? This is what you like right? Nobody’s ever had you like this have they?” He whispers and you shake your head. His hand finds yours and he brings it back to the spot just below your belly button. “Feel that? Feel me so deep in this pretty pussy. Gonna get you all full of me, fill you with my babies.” He grits and squeezes your neck a little harder, the corners of your vision darkening before he lets go and you take in a full breath, feeling high on him…and he’s all you know. His words, his hands roaming your body and his cock stretching you.
“Harry, I’m so close.” You breathe out and he grunts, lips ghosting over your shoulder blade.
“I know…can feel you squeezing my cock so tight angel. C’mon. Cum for me.” He encourages you and you shatter around him, pussy pulsing around him bringing him to his own release as he paints inside you. He wastes no time pulling out and you topple over from your legs feeling weak and he dips down behind you. You feel him dripping out of your hole, and his fingers spread you open. Pushing one inside with no warning, he fucks his cum back inside of you with his fingers and you hum, unable to make any other noise and he chuckles behind you.
“Like being filled like this? Look so pretty full of me, dripping out of you. Never gonna forget it.” He mutters, planting a kiss on the small of your back before standing. Finding the energy to roll over, he offers his fingers to you and you take them between your lips and taste the mix of both of you on his fingers. He curses under his breath at the sight of you, feeling his cock twitching back to life and he pulls them away to stop himself thinking about fucking you again and again.
You slept in his bed that night.
The weekend ended all too quickly, and you were half asleep in the back seat of Josh’s car with your head resting on the window, holding Harry’s book on your thighs and fiddling wither cover, something you had become accustomed to as you read the prose on the pages or when you closed in while engaging in conversation. Truthfully, you didn’t know if you’d see him in that capacity again after this weekend and didn’t know if you wanted to go back to being strangers that passed each other in the economics building on campus.
Josh pulled up to the house you and Faye shared, and Harry follows you out of the car. He retrieves your bag from Pauly’s car for you, carrying it up to your room and putting it down on your bed. You almost felt like you were having deja vu, the scene similar to one from Thursday afternoon, except this time you weren’t half naked in front of him and he wasn’t just a stranger in your room anymore. You look around, then to the floor before meeting his eyes and he smirks as he leans against your doorframe.
“Here.” You hand him the book but he puts his hands up, shaking his head.
“Keep it.” He says, and you almost refuse but accept it anyway. He bites the inside of his cheek, shifting his weight and shoving his hands in his pockets. He steps closer, brushing your hair behind your ear as you look up at him. “Don’t be a stranger, angel.”
“I won’t be.”
He leaves you there, standing in the middle of the room with his book clutched to your chest with a cheesy grin plastered on your face.
And you knew it wouldn't be the last time you saw Harry Styles.
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry#styles#harry fic#harry styles smut#harry styles fic#harry styles one shot#harry edward styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles fanfic#harry styles blurb#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#cherrysucker#harry styles one direction#harry styles one shots#fratboy harry#fratrry#fratboy!harry x you
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daisy 2 (english profrry x quiet TA!yn)
she's alive and I hope you like it 🩷 I think there will be a short epilogue wrapping everything up after this :)
part one
word count: 7.9k
content warnings: a bit of angst (nothing too crazy), smut (f receiving oral, penetration, size kink/belly bulge, dirty talk, a tiny bit of cum play), and — as stated in the first part — massive, big fat warning for an inappropriate power imbalance.
main masterlist | talk to me
. . .
Y/N had tried to talk herself out of it. Several times, actually. For hours.
But at a certain point, she realized all she was doing was driving herself insane with a nonstop, hamster wheel of thinking. She couldn’t stop replaying the conversation with Professor Styles — or Harry, rather, as he’d said earlier — over and over, nitpicking at every tiny detail. She wished she had someone to go to — an unbiased, neutral third party who wouldn’t tell her what she wanted to hear, but she doubted that even if she did have that, they’d think her analysis of their discussion would be appropriate.
Because she had a huge, obvious, stupid crush on her professor.
Well, he wasn’t technically her professor. She was just the professor she was… assisting, and that technicality is the only thing that gave her enough courage to bundle up beneath layers of thermal wear and her forest green puffer jacket, hiking through the chilly winter evening to see if, by some miracle, Harry was still in his office.
On the way there, she spoke to herself sternly. She needed to have a goal in mind — an intention, really, of what exactly she was going there for. It wasn’t a normal thing to go see a professor in his office on a Monday at 6:40 pm.
It wasn’t normal to think about his grumpy face and even crankier demeanor; the way his lips pursed thoughtfully around wordy responses about a student’s answer to an essay question, or his long, calloused fingers that wrapped around the same gel ink pens he always used for grading.
It wasn’t normal for her to fall asleep imagining herself pressing her own plush lips to the same ones that nearly begged for an apology just a few hours ago.
And it certainly wasn’t normal for her professor to admit that he’d spent the weekend thinking of her, either.
The English building stays unlocked until around 9 pm on weekdays, just in case professors end up hauling their grading into late nights or students have group projects. She hurries through the wooden doors as soon as she arrives, hurriedly yanking her mittens off and stuffing them in her coat pockets as she walks the familiar journey down to Harry’s office. She’s unsurprised that most of the offices and classrooms have already gone dim, but the closer she gets to Harry’s, the sooner she realizes that his is the exception. With the bleak, yellowed light from the lamp she’d picked out a few weeks back, she sees a faint luminance from his office’s frosted window. Swallowing, she decides against her better judgment before waltzing in like she owns the place, and instead opts for a hesitant knock, punctuating it with a call of his name.
“Profess— Harry? Are you in there?” she nibbles on her lip before tacking on a, "It's Y/N."
She hopes he recognizes her voice as she wrings her fingers together in front of her. She thinks she hears muffled movement on the other side of the door, but she’s not entirely sure. It never occurred to her that perhaps he wouldn’t want to see her — maybe he’d peek through the crack of the door, see her face, and widen his own eyes in shock and embarrassment, maintaining silence until she eventually gave up and walked away. Her throat bobs nervously at the imagery.
She’s ready to give up when the door swings open, revealing a rather flushed looking version of the typically neat, well-kept professor she’s used to seeing. His cheeks don a splotchy pink hue that speckles down to his neck, where his usual button down is currently undone. Underneath, he wears a plain white tee-shirt. She blinks at the small display of intimacy before snapping her eyes back up to his face. He’s running his finger through his messy curls, tugging lightly at the base of the locks.
“Is everything alright?” he asks through a slightly nervous voice. With furrowed eyebrows, she nods her head slowly.
“Yes— well, no, I guess. I feel bad about earlier.”
She chokes the words out in hopes that she can keep her humiliation at bay. She’s unsure if her eyes deceive her, but it seems as though his face relaxes some before he quickly nods, stepping aside to let her in.
“Um, you have nothing to feel bad about,” he says, shutting the door quietly behind her. She shrugs her shoulders as she stands in the middle of his small office, avoiding his gaze. “I was out of line, Y/N.”
“What did you mean by it?” she rushes out, facing him with a leery expression. “That you spent the weekend thinking of me. And feeling awful about how you’ve treated me.”
His mouth opens and closes, and she can’t help the way she glances down at his raspberry-hued lips. She swallows tightly, biting on her own bottom lip.
“This isn’t something we can do,” he mumbles out breathily with a shake of his head. “You know that, right?”
They’re dancing around the obvious. Her stomach lurches at the low, groveled volume of his voice, and her fingers twitch at her sides as she resists the urge to step closer to him. She’s never been forward with a romantic interest before — she’s never had a reason to be, to uphold a certain level of confidence.
But she can’t help herself.
“Tell me, then. Tell me what you thought of this weekend.”
Harry’s nostrils flare.
“If it’s not something we can do,” Y/N says softly, licking over her lips, “Then whatever you thought about should be nothing, right?”
He’s torn. He’s so utterly torn that it feels like his brain is being split in half. He knows what he should do — he should tell her she’s wrong and that she should leave. He should leave this entire situation behind him, chalk it up to him being a touch-deprived idiot, and move on with his life. Join a few dating apps and find someone decent to settle down with.
But why would he do what he’s supposed to do?
“I thought about how fucking shitty I felt for ignoring you for weeks after you told me you just wanted my praise,” Harry blurts, heart hammering in his chest as he slowly starts to close the gap between their bodies. “I thought about how much I like having you around — how smart and talented you are, how beautiful and creative your brain is.”
“I’m not—”
“I’m not finished,” he replies curtly, making Y/N’s eyebrows shoot up to her forehead. “I thought about how pretty you are. I thought about how I’m thankful to have you as my assistant, because no one has ever been able to meet me on the same level. I thought about… how I’d be taking advantage of you if I told you any of those things, so I promised that I’d keep them to myself.”
He’s standing directly before her now. He’s so close that she can smell the warm musk of his cologne and see the freckles dotted over his nose. It makes her stomach churn in the best way.
“Why didn’t you?” she finally breathes out.
A smirk forms at the edges of his lips. He looks down at her as if he wants to swallow her whole, and she’s not sure that she doesn’t want him to.
“You asked me to tell you, sweetheart,” he murmurs. He reaches out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and her skin zips with electricity. “‘S not much of my fault now, is it?”
Quickly, she shakes her head. She swallows nervously and hopes he doesn’t notice her picking at her nails as she waits for him to surge forward and press a messy kiss to her lips.
But instead, he stops.
A look of clarity ghosts over his face and his throat bobs. It doesn’t stop him from thumbing over her chin with sorrowed eyes.
“We’ll wait until the end of the semester,” he murmurs out. The look of disappointment on Y/N’s face must be obvious because his eyebrows furrow in dejection. “It’s the safest way, okay? After that… after that, I’m yours.”
I’m yours. It echoes through her brain, making her heart thump rapidly in her chest. She feels it everywhere, but the hesitancy remains.
“Promise me,” she whispers, pressing a wary hand to the expanse of his chest. “Promise me I’m not wasting my time. Promise me that you mean this.”
He can’t help it — before he can even contemplate the consequences, he ducks down to connect their lips. It takes her by surprise but she immediately kisses him back, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck to pull him closer.
Despite the reluctant context, the physical bond is anything but. Harry kisses her unhurriedly, like he has years to worship every bit of her lips. He dips his tongue into her mouth the second she grants him the opportunity, and her chest feels like it’s ready to explode when he squeezes her hip. His large palm easily finds its way to her ass and she whimpers breathily into the seal of his mouth. It’s the only thing that brings him back down to earth — a reminder that he’s no longer daydreaming but experiencing the real thing. He forces himself to break the kiss but leans his forehead against hers, keeping his eyes shuttered closed.
“I promise you,” he exhales, and he feels her nod. “I’m yours.”
. . .
Attempting to act normal around Harry is harder than Y/N had anticipated.
In hindsight, the evening consisted of a half-assed confession and a rather… intimate kiss that nearly knocked her off her feet. If it had been with anyone else — someone her age, a fellow student or peer, maybe — she, of course, would be anxious over it. But the fact that she had to see him a day later in class was… well, somehow embarrassing.
She contemplates her outfit for hours, wanting to seem cute and put-together without overly desperate. She was scared it would be written all over her face the second she walked in and sat at her seat beside his podium — "I made out with Professor Styles in his office a day and a half ago and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it for more than two seconds since it happened" may as well have been written across her forehead.
When she finally does show up to class, Harry looks… well, he looks like his usual self. He’s wearing those wide-legged trousers that she thinks he must have in at least a dozen colors, matched with a button down and a sweater vest overtop. He’s standing at the podium with his back to the entrance as he waits for students to filter in, squeezing his bottom lip between his fingers. He’s reading something, Y/N’s unsure what it is, but when he hears the less than graceful clatter of her setting her things down at the table, he glances over to her and flashes her a smile.
A smile.
“Hey,” he greets. His voice is low and gruff and if she hadn’t been looking for it, she surely would’ve missed it. But she doesn’t, and it instead sends a zap of lovesick energy thrumming through her body.
“Hi.” she mumbles back, waving as she leans over to pull her laptop from her bag.
That’s the extent of the interaction, but it’s far more than she’s ever received from him. Normally, when she arrives at class, he fully ignores her. She only began to take issue with it when she figured out she was growing feelings for him, but somehow the quiet utterance of hey feels like a public acknowledgement of what occurred just a day prior. In some crazy way, it seems like it’s just as open as grabbing her and smacking a hard kiss to her lips. She finds herself wishing he would as he begins today’s lecture on male writers in feminist discourse.
As written on the schedule, Harry’s taking the time to discuss authors like George Herbert, John Berryman, and Leo Tolstoy. Y/N doesn’t feel particularly drawn to any of those figures, though a few weeks back when she and Harry were discussing this unit, they did find a mutual appreciation for Jacques Lacan. He wasn’t originally in the lesson plan — Y/N remembers it vividly, because she can recall saying that he would be a great fit. Her heart had expanded in her chest with praise when Harry agreed.
And yet… Harry’s standing up there in front of the lecture hall, waxing poetic in the dreamiest way possible, about Jacques Lacan.
“Lacan was incredibly controversial, so I don’t expect all of us to feel comfortable with translating his viewpoints to modern day psychology,” Harry explains as he hovers over the old, wooden podium, “But what I do want to dig into is his basic idea of the symbolic register. Does anyone know what that is?”
Yes, Y/N wants to say. It’s the concept that our existence as humans includes language, culture, and rituals.
“Lacan came up with this idea that he thought was waiting for us the second we were born. He felt that the symbolic register encompassed maybe more artsy, culture-based facets, and that was one of the most important parts of the human existence. We won’t get too far into it because this isn’t a psychology course, and frankly, I could give a shit if you truly understand this or not.” The class, including Y/N, laughs quietly. Harry rolls his lips into a thin line to avoid a smirk from appearing.
When the huffed merriment tapers off, he continues. “What I want you to take away as writers is this: Lacan’s symbolic register essentially implies that our lives, from the very start, are swamped with uncertainty. There’s no path for us. As you write your characters, consider that. Lacan thought that life experiences, specifically lack and desire, were what impacted the course we go on.”
As expected, the class is silent. Y/N’s found that students are typically too nervous or intimidated to contribute to conversations during Harry’s lectures, and she’s been on the receiving end of many, many emails asking things that could have been resolved in class.
“Think about what your characters lack. What are they missing? What are they unable to receive access to? Is it a resistance to pleasure, to giving in?”
Y/N swallows harshly at that. She pretends like she doesn’t hear it, instead focusing in on typing a response to an email in her inbox.
“And then, consider their desires. Their deepest, darkest wants. No one has to know them — in real life, no one truly knows our truest desires, anyway,” she swears her eyes squeeze closed at that, but she quickly snaps them open, “But use it as an exercise for this weekend. Don’t forget, second drafts are due on Monday. Class is dismissed.”
Y/N swear she feels a second heartbeat in her core as the lecture hall begins to trickle out with students.
. . .
“I thought we were waiting until the semester is over.” Y/N blurts it out when she can’t focus on grading Ren Wei's draft.
Slowly, Harry glances up from the stack of papers he’s currently grading. With confused eyebrows, he sets his pen down.
“We are,” he says softly.
“Then what were you talking about in class today?” She hisses lowly. She keeps her voice quiet even though the door to Harry’s office is shut closed.
“What do you mean?”
Y/N sighs frustratedly and sits back in her seat. She avoids Harry’s confused gaze as she crosses her arms over her chest. He ignores the way it pushes her breasts up through the soft fabric of her sweater.
“The whole lack and desire thing. You know you weren’t planning on talking about Lacan until I brought him up a few weeks ago.”
Harry’s throat bobs and she licks over her lips, quickly glancing back up to his face. She’s right — they both know she’s right, but Harry’s reluctant to admit it. He’s stubborn — he’s always been this way in relationships, and it tends to be one of his greater downfalls as a partner. Deep in the pit of his heart, he knows Y/N deserves better. She wouldn’t be worth putting his job or her status as a student in danger if she wasn’t.
“You’re right,” he finally admits as he nibbles on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry. It was out of line and I won’t do that anymore.”
She pauses for a beat. And then, “I thought maybe you changed your mind.”
His shoulders deflate and she suddenly feels embarrassed. It was a stupid thing to reveal, she decides, and she picks at the skin surrounding her fingernails as she mentally beats herself up for it.
And for a moment, Harry contemplates it. He knows it hasn’t been that long since he told her they have to wait, but he’d be a ridiculous liar if he didn’t admit that she’s all he’s been thinking about ever since they kissed in his office. Nervously, he reaches across the length of his wooden desk and takes her hand into his. He intertwines their fingers together and gives her hand a small, reassuring squeeze, and she looks up at him through her eyelashes. It makes his heart warm.
“You know this is incredibly difficult for me, right?” he asks. Y/N shakes her head and he scoffs in response. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N.”
She blushes. “I can’t stop thinking about you either.”
“Yeah?” he chuckles, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. She nods. “When we kissed, it… it was so good, y’know? It just… it felt good.”
“I know,” she breathes. She squeezes his fingers lightly before retracting her own hand and placing it in her lap. She may look naive, but she's already decided that she won't let him have the upper hand – not when it comes to something she can actually have control over, like teasing.
The movement surprises him but he chooses not to acknowledge it. “But this is what we decided on, right? It’s better this way. It’s kind of like edging, hm?”
His eyes nearly bulge out of his skull as she glances down at her phone to look at the time.
“Anyway, I have to head out to class. Text me if you need anything, Professor Styles.”
She waltzes out of his office with a snarky, knowing grin on her lips, and Harry has to do a series of deep breathing to stop his cock from exploding in his trousers.
. . .
Y/N Y/L/N is a complete and utter minx.
Harry has no choice but to come to this conclusion because in the weeks that follow their agreement, he swears she does everything she can to try and make him break. The worst part is, he doesn’t even know if she’s doing it intentionally. But every time they’re in the same room, all he can think about is hauling her over his shoulder, locking her in his office, and stretching her body over the length of his desk so he can fuck her until she can’t even think straight.
And there’s still three months left of the semester.
Admittedly, nothing ever really happens between them. Despite the apparent and blatant flirting that occurs on both sides, they keep things surprisingly professional, even behind closed doors. For the first time in his teaching career, Harry is actually ahead of grading. For some reason, he feels as though it’s a testament to how well he and Y/N actually work together.
But then there’s the matter of her teasing, which drives him up a fucking wall — the cute little mini skirts she almost always wears, the batting of her eyelashes at students in his class, followed by the wide-eyed smile she flashes Harry as soon as she knows he’s seen it. She even out-smarted him on Ursula LeGuin the other day and, as dorky as it seems, Harry doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on in his life.
It’s a series of back-and-forth. When Y/N has to leave his office for class, he’ll thumb at her chin or her cheeks so she gets all flustered before she heads out. Later that night, she’ll text him an innocent question with some sort of “typo”:
can’t stop thinking about your lips
oops! list* not lips! your list of grades — it’s due next friday, right??
It’s a stupid, risky game that neither of them can stop playing.
Even when they’re sitting in Harry’s office that Wednesday afternoon, buried beneath piles of final drafts for the midterm paper, he can’t help but gnaw on his bottom lip as she sits across from him. She’s focused — the cute furrow between her brows is the primary tell — but every now and then she’ll bring her pen up to her mouth to bite on it or poke her tongue out to lick over her lips.
Despite the chill of the day, she’s wearing a wool mini skirt atop sheer black tights, and he hasn’t been able to stop glancing down at the soft skin of her thighs since she showed up to campus hours ago. He wants nothing more than to rip a hole in the fabric, pull her into his lap, and kiss her until she’s a whimpering, breathless mess.
He’s so distracted that he doesn’t even notice the clock is steadily ticking towards 5 pm and, technically, Y/N should’ve left an hour ago. With wide eyes, he drops his pen on the pile of papers in front of him.
“Shit,” he curses, “You should go. Your hours ended at 4.”
She taps her phone screen beside her, “Oh. I didn’t realize it was so late. I guess I got in the groove with grading.”
“It happens.” He says understandingly as he leans back against his chair, stretching his achy back out some. “I’ll see you on Monday, then?”
She peers up at him through her lashes. “It’s 5 pm on a Friday, Harry. You should leave, too.”
He runs his tongue over his teeth. She’s right, especially since he’s been attempting to distract himself from his crush on Y/N by doing late grading sessions in his office.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he mumbles as he grabs his large tote bag. “I’ll walk you out, if that’s okay.”
They both know that it’s perhaps a cross of the boundary they’ve been trying to firmly maintain, but how harmful could a walk be?
Y/N flashes him a small smile. Silently, they each pack their things up, and she follows him out of this office as he locks his door. They walk side-by-side, Y/N nibbling on her bottom lip as Harry tries to resist the urge to grab the hand that he keeps accidentally brushing with his own knuckles.
“Do you have any weekend plans?” She suddenly asks softly, glancing up at the taller male.
He hums, “Nothing too exciting. Probably just gonna catch up on TV and reading. You?”
“The secret life of an English professor, hm?” Y/N teases and he chuckles. “I have to start prepping for midterms. Laundry, too. I guess nothing more fun than your plans.”
He laughs and her stomach erupts into flutters as he holds the front door for her. She smiles in gratitude, but her steps come to a stop when she witnesses the state of the weather.
It’s nearly a white out. A snowstorm must have barreled through while they were busy grading, because now it’s dark, flurries of snow instantly landing on Y/N’s eyelashes and jacket.
“Y/N,” Harry appears at her side, “You’re not planning on walking through this, are you?”
“I-I don’t have a car.” She mumbles, stuffing her already freezing cold hands into her pockets. “I’ll be fine, it’s not far.”
“No, but I wouldn’t feel okay with sending you home in this,” he replies. She blinks when she feels his hand reach out to her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “Would you let me drive you home, please? Just so I know you get home safely.”
Her stomach turns. This would officially cross the student/teacher boundary, but he’s right — it’s frigid out, and she always hates walking home in the dark anyway. Swallowing tightly, she nods.
“Yeah, please. I’ll take a ride.”
“Good,” he exhales with a nod, “My car’s just over in the faculty lot.”
With the both of them slowly shuffling through the snowy ground, they eventually make it to Harry’s car. As expected, it’s covered in snow, but he turns it on and blasts the heat so she can sit inside while he uses a brush to clear it off. She picks at her fingernails as she watches him through the foggy front window, her chest continuing to grow with nerves. She knows that this is all she’s wanted for weeks — to be alone with Harry, outside of the confines of his office — so why is she so scared?
Luckily, he gets in the car before she has more time to contemplate it. Blowing warm air into his cupped hands, he shivers dramatically.
“Fuck, it’s cold,” he whines, making her giggle. “Something funny about that, passenger princess?”
“No!” She exclaims with a laugh, “I’m sorry I didn’t help clear your car off. I’m sure that was awful.”
His eyes crinkle teasingly as he chuckles along with her. As he backs up out of the parking spot with ease, he presses the palm of his hand to the back of Y/N’s headrest, checking to make sure he’s clear. She wonders if he’s used to driving in the snow, but lets the question die in her throat instead of pushing the conversation.
“Sorry, I didn’t ask where you live,” he says when he turns onto the main road. “I think you mentioned once that you’re not too far from campus?”
She nods. “Yeah, I’m on Maple. It’s a single-person house, I’ll tell you where to turn.”
“You live alone?”
She doesn’t think the question is meant to be inherently suggestive, but there’s something about his immediate response that has her teetering on feeling that way. Swallowing, she nods again.
“Mhm. Most of my friends graduated or moved away when we finished undergrad, so it’s just me.”
“No pets or anything? You seem like the type to own one of those bald cats.”
Y/N balks at his reply, a peel of laughter bubbling from her chest. “What?”
Harry’s cheeks warm as he slowly drives down the snow-covered street. He doesn’t know how to tell her that he thinks about what kind of person she is when she’s not around — he knows it probably sounds creepy, but it’s how he’s been entertaining himself in the meantime.
“I just… feel like you’d like those things,” he treads lightly, shrugging his shoulders, “Is my assumption wrong?”
“Very much so. I’ve only had dogs,” she giggles, “Are there any other assumptions I should know about?”
His throat bobs. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” she quirks a brow. “Turn at the light.”
He flicks his right signal on, “I may have tried to figure you out a bit in my… spare time.”
He cringes, but the sound of her laughter quickly pulls him from his embarrassment.
“Well now I have to know.”
“Fine,” he decides, finding himself drawn to her little game, “I think you prefer matcha or hot chocolate over coffee.”
“True, but that’s only because you watch me cringe every time you drink your stupid black coffee.”
Harry snorts, “Okay, fair. I think you’re a homebody.”
“Mhmm,” Y/N nods. “True. Go on.”
“You prefer chocolate to vanilla.”
“Strawberry, actually.”
He hums. “You read period piece smut for fun.”
Y/N lets out a loud cackle. “What about my personality makes you think that?”
“You just seem like the type to go to the romance section at the bookstore, but only buy dirty books that are set in the 1800s,” he replies easily, a smirk edging at his lips, “Am I wrong?”
She ignores the way her cheeks flair with warmth. “I’m not opposed to it, but it’s not the only thing I read.”
“Sure,” he laughs. She rolls her eyes before pointing to a house down at the end of the road.
“I’m right over there.”
Harry nods and pulls up in front of it. The snow is only worse on the residential streets, likely because there haven’t been many cars going through to clear the roads. She nibbles on her lip as she unbuckles her seatbelt and turns to look at him.
“Thank you for the ride.” she says softly.
“Of course.”
They stare at each other for a beat before Y/N tears her gaze away from him. She glances out through the front window, watching momentarily as snowflakes continue to beat down on the exterior of his car.
“It’s not safe,” she mumbles breathily, facing him again. “You shouldn’t drive in this.”
He swallows. He knows what he should say: No, it’s okay. I should go home. We said we’d wait, remember?
But he doesn’t want to. Not when she’s dangling alone time, off campus, right in front of his face. He can’t resist her — he doesn’t want to resist her.
“Can I come inside, then?”
. . .
Y/N’s house is everything Harry would have expected it to be.
She has two huge bookshelves that are overflowing with worn novels, Post-It’s and folded-down pages sticking out of nearly every page. She has plants and candles, cuddly blankets thrown askew over her couch, and a sink filled with half-consumed cups of tea. There are framed pictures and Polaroids tacked up on her fridge of people Harry assumes are her friends and family. He smiles gently as he passes by an image of her wedged between two older people who have some of her same features. It’s all very her, which means it’s all entirely too comforting.
“Do you want something to drink?” Y/N asks, nibbling on her bottom lip as she glances up at the man before her. It’s an unusual sight; one that makes her feel like she has to blink a few times to ensure she isn’t dreaming.
“Not unless you’re willing me to make my ‘stupid black coffee’, as you affectionately referred to it in the car.”
Y/N blushes, “I don’t have any coffee here, but I can make you tea. Or hot chocolate.”
“Tea is good, sweetheart.”
The flush only deepens at the pet name. He’s not sure where it comes from — maybe easing into a relationship-type dynamic is easier than he thought, especially considering he’s been pushing it down since their kiss. He watches as she turns to face the kitchen counter, occupying herself with turning the kettle on and retrieving two tea bags and mugs. He wants nothing more than to hug her from behind, pressing his fingertips into her hips to squeeze them teasingly. To dip his head to the crook of her neck and press kisses along her delicate skin. He swallows and adjusts his trousers, willing the thickening erection tucked underneath to go away.
“How do you want it?” she asks, glancing behind her to look at him.
He coughs. “Sorry? How do I want what?”
“Your tea,” Y/N replies slowly, a small smile on her lips, “How do you want your tea, Harry?”
“Oh— um, however you take it is fine.”
She nods and busies herself with filling the mugs up with the boiling water. Once she’s finished, she slowly hands him the steaming cup. He smiles in gratitude, allowing their fingers to brush against one another in the pass-off.
“By the way,” she says lowly, blinking at him, “You’re doing a shit job of hiding your boner.”
Her eyes crinkle in a smirk as she lifts the mug to take a sip of the warm liquid. Harry’s cheeks instantly warm and he stutters over his words, attempting to force out an apology. She lets him scramble for a moment before reaching out to curl her fingers over his wrist with a smile.
“I’m just teasing you. I hope you know I don’t care.”
He huffs, setting his cup down on the dining room table, “Yeah, but I’m the one who told you we have to wait. And now I’m standing in your kitchen, getting hard over you making me tea.”
She giggles. “I consider that a compliment, to be honest.”
“I’m sure you do,” he grumbles, “You make me feel like a doped up, lovesick teenager.”
“Really?”
“Of course,” he scoffs, “Everything you do does something to me. Even if you don’t mean it. It’s ridiculous.”
“What do you mean?”
He sends her a knowing look and she grins.
“You know what I mean, Y/N.”
“You know I’m not good at reading between the lines, Harry.”
He sighs. “You turn me on. Even by doing the stupidest shit— knowing more about me in certain subjects, wearing those cute little skirts… it all drives me insane. I’ve been trying to keep it together, but I can’t.”
“Then don’t,” she replies almost instantly, placing her mug on the table next to his, “I don’t want to wait, Harry. I feel… I feel so stupidly desperate for you. And I want this— I want you.”
“I know, but—”
“But in any other context, if we didn’t meet this way, there wouldn’t be an issue,” she points out stubbornly, “If we had come back to mine after a date, we’d already be upstairs with our clothes off.”
He can’t help the way his cock jumps at her words and he mentally groans. He wants to yell into one of those cute throw pillows on her couch, or maybe lay face down on the fluffy carpet in her hallway.
“Listen, I’m sorry if I’m crossing boundaries, we can just watch TV or something—”
“Stop,” he cuts her off with a shake of his head. “Can we just… Can I just kiss you again? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
Y/N blinks owlishly. Surprise is clear on her face, but it doesn’t stop her from nodding her head. As corny as it sounds — and Y/N knows it’s corny — it feels like magnets being pulled together. It’s not a moment longer before Harry’s palm is pressed gently against her cheek, his lips brushing up against hers. She’s nearly salivating at the thought of closing the gap between them and yet, at the same time, her brain is melting with lust.
This kiss, unlike their first, is riddled with want. It’s hurried and sloppy, teeth clashing and tongues dipping into each other’s mouth. Harry’s hand slips from her cheek and down to the back of her neck, giving it a small, testing squeeze. She presses her chest impossibly closer to his, eyelashes flittering at the warmth radiating from the button-down he wears. She’s desperate to feel him, to eliminate any boundaries or distances between them — for the first time, she’s sick of playing games.
“Upstairs,” she pants out through swollen lips. He takes her bottom lip between his teeth and pulls playfully, allowing it to snap back in place, “Take me upstairs, please.”
He swallows and her eyes find his Adam’s apple, nervousness settling in her chest. He gives her neck another squeeze.
“Are you sure?” he breathes. She leans up to wrap her arms around his neck and presses a gentle kiss to his lips.
“If you’ll have me, I’m yours, Harry.”
“You’ve always been mine,” he mutters with his forehead against hers, “Show me the way, sweetheart.”
She grabs his hand in hers and lightly tugs him out of the kitchen. If she’s being honest, she’s fantasized of this moment for months now. She was never sure of how it would happen (the logistics never mattered in her daydreams), but having him here, standing in her bedroom, feels like some kind of joke her mind conjured up.
But when he lays her back against the mattress, elbows digging into the soft tufts of her bedding, it feels a little like a hazy fantasy.
When he parts her thighs and kneels down between them, pressing a smattering of kisses along her neck as his hands push the fabric of her thick sweater up, her labored breathing is the only anchor she has in reality.
And when he finds himself between her thighs, tugging her black tights down to reveal a sodden pair of underwear, a hiss sounding out from her mouth when he bares her center to the cool air of her bedroom, things begin to feel very, very serious.
“Is this okay?” he asks huskily. He’s since moved down to kneeling on the carpet of her room, his large palms parting the insides of her thighs. Every single move he makes drives her insane.
“Yes,” she breathes, fingers gripping the blanket beneath her.
He’s less calculated now that he’s received her consent. She instantly mewls the second he puts his mouth over her, licking through the wet fabric of her underwear. Her eyes roll back just from the muffled sensation, especially when he allows a low moan to vibrate from his chest.
“Need more,” he mutters against the soft skin of his thigh as he pulls the material to the side. He inhales sharply at the sight of how wet she is, his fingertip gently tracing over the tip of her swollen clit. “You were hiding all this from me for months.”
He states it as if it’s a fact — like she’d been doing it intentionally, when all she’s been doing is dreaming of the day he’d finally be the one to break. Through a shaky swallow, she parts her lips.
“Didn’t mean it,” she murmurs, sitting up slightly to look down at him. It’s a heavenly vision — the image of the professor she’s been crushing on, on his knees for her in her bedroom. He sends a smirk her way as if he can read her thoughts (and maybe he can, she’s truly not sure anymore), and surges forward to dip his tongue through her folds, licking up the heady arousal dripping from her hole. It makes her gasp and reach down to grab his hair, a tight fistful of locks in her hand.
“Doubt it,” he says into her core. His fingertip continues tracing tight circles into her clit as he begins to flex his tongue inside of her, and Y/N’s back is arching against the expanse of her mattress from the wet, intoxicating sensations of it all. It’s nearly too overwhelming for her, especially given the sensitivity of her clit — but Harry can feel her tensing beneath his grasp, a delicious telltale sign that her peak is quickly rising.
“Harry— oh my god—”
“I know,” he coos, replacing his tongue with two of his fingers. He presses against her g-spot and she gasps, grinding her hips down against his hands, “There you go, angel girl, cum on my fingers. That’s it, good girl.”
If his hands weren’t currently occupied, one would undoubtedly be wrapped around his length right now, twisting and pumping until he emptied himself to the sight of Y/N’s coming, pulsating pussy. It's better than any daydream he ever could have thought of — her moans are beautiful and whimpery, her body warm and pliant beneath his touch as she comes down. Sensitivity immediately takes over and she gently bats his hands away, panting out loudly from above.
“Alright?” He asks softly, placing a light kiss to her thigh. He hears her swallow loudly.
“Jelly,” she mumbles, “Limbs are jelly.”
That makes him chuckle as he sits back up on his knees. He hovers over the length of her body and smiles at her fucked out expression.
“You’re pretty when you come.” He says before leaning down to peck her lips.
“Yeah?” She asks teasingly, “Show me what you look like?”
Harry stills but she nips at his bottom lip playfully, “You didn’t cum in your pants just from eating me out, did you?”
“Got pretty close to it.” He confesses, eyes falling shut as she continues pressing kisses to his jawline and down to his neck.
She hums at the admittance as her hands rake down his chest, “Do you wanna fuck me?”
“Whatever you want,” he swallows, the answer sounding far more submissive out loud than he’d intentioned, “Fine with… I’m fine with whatever.”
“I want you to fuck me.” She says, looking up at him. “Is that okay?”
“That’s perfectly okay.”
Y/N grins and begins to make quick work of shedding his layers of clothes. His button-down is the first to go, followed by his trousers and belt. Once he’s down to his briefs, she gently hints at wanting to climb on top. He has no reservations with that so he helps her straddle his thighs, watching as her eyes peer down at his covered length.
“You look big.” She admits.
He’s not sure if it’s meant to be a compliment or a nervous comment, so he silently issues a small squeeze to her hip.
“Seriously,” she continues with a frown. “Other girls have taken you no problem?”
This makes him laugh. “Generally, yeah.”
“I don’t think it’s gonna fit.”
Harry smirks. “This isn’t your way of telling me you’re a virgin, right?”
“No!” She exclaims theatrically, and that only amplifies his laughter. “I’m just… I’m nervous! You look really big Harry, seriously.”
“Take me out then,” he instructs lowly and the tone of his voice zips straight to Y/N’s center, “I promise, you’re freaking yourself out over nothing.”
She grumbles as he pulls his underwear down his legs. Harry kicks them off his ankles and she sighs as she takes him into her hand. He has to make an effort not to hiss at the feeling of it.
“Still huge,” she mutters, “My hand barely fits around you, Harry.”
“You’re making my ego insane, angel.”
She peers up at him, where his arm is tucked behind his head like he’s lounging the day away. She gives the head of his cock a small squeeze.
“Do you really think it’ll fit?”
“Yes,” he chuckles, “If not, I’ll just go down on you for an hour and by then you’ll be open and wet enough.”
“Shut up,” she mumbles, the thought of him spending an hour of his time between her thighs almost being too much to fathom. “‘M gonna try to put you in.”
“It’ll be fine, sweetheart. Just breathe and take your time. We can do a different position—“
“No,” she quickly shakes her head. “Wanna ride you. This is how I envisioned it.”
Harry’s eyebrow quirks at that but his curiosity is quickly replaced by pleasure when she hovers her hips over his length. The warmth from her previous orgasm is radiating off of her and he breathes out sharply when she pushes the tip in, her fingertips covering the sight. Harry reaches out to move them. “Need to see,” he grunts.
Her jaw drops open as she slowly lowers onto him. Neither of them speak — it’s all entirely too consuming; her getting filled to the brim and him being surrounded by the tightest heat he’s ever felt. When she finally sinks down to his pelvic bone, her eyelashes flutter.
“Can you move?” He asks through a slightly clenched jaw, “Or— do you need me to—“
“I can do it.” She replies as she steadily attempts to move her hips up. “Oh, that’s a lot.”
“Too much?”
She shakes her head, “It’s good. Is it good?”
“It’s amazing.” He breaths out, gritting his teeth as she moves up and down.
With his reassurance under her belt, it’s easier for her to find a bit of rhythm, even if she has to place her hands down on his chest for stability. He happily places his own palms on top of them, curling his fingers around her wrists to help her.
“There you go,” he encourages, leaning his head back against the pillow as he watches her. “You look so beautiful, holy shit.”
She moans when she finally figures out a pace that hits that soft spot inside of her, eyelashes fluttering from the constant pressure. Harry moves his hands down to her hips to assist in the maneuvers, but mainly because he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get sick of seeing his touch on her skin. She swallows harshly when she lifts a hand to coax at her swollen clit, a wet gasp sounding from her lips. Harry’s gaze lifts from where they’re connected to see widened eyes.
“What’s the matter? Are you okay?” He asks in immediate panic.
She nods quickly and reaches out to grab his hand and place it over his stomach.
He thinks he may pass out.
Beneath the soft, dimpled skin of her stomach, he can feel his length bulging in her tummy. If he looks close enough, he can see the faint outline. It takes everything in him not to snap.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters as she resumes her pace of bouncing on his cock.
“Told you you were— oh— big,” she says stubbornly, and if he wasn’t so overwhelmed with the current state of her body, he probably would have had a comeback. But right now, all he can focus on is not blowing his load inside her.
“Need you to come,” he grunts. She nods eagerly like a puppy and he smirks when her fingers return to her clit, rubbing tight circles. “Need you to come so I can paint that pretty pussy, yeah?”
“Yes,” she mewls desperately. Her movements get jerkier and sloppier, but Harry has no problem meeting her hips. He thrusts up inside of her to hopefully reach the same spot, though his worry is quickly wiped away when he feels her muscles contract, her face twisting beautifully.
He can barely help her through her orgasm before he’s pushing her into her side. He’s no longer inside and his hand has switched to keeping her thigh up as he pumps himself, groaning at the sticky mess between them.
“Wanna feel it,” she whimpers almost pathetically, “Please Professor Styles, cum all over my pussy.”
That’s all he needs before he’s bursting at the seams, ropes of thick, white cum covering her. He’s a groaning mess and he doesn’t even notice that she’s running her hand through his hair, playing with it gently, until he has nothing left to give. With a final whimper, he lays back against her bed, completely spent.
When they’ve both caught their breath, Harry turns back onto his side to face her.
“You alright?” he asks softly. He’s nervous to reach out and thumb at her cheek or press a kiss to her hand. For some reason, he feels like the situation is too delicate right now and he’s at risk of fucking it all up.
Y/N hums, “Mhm. Are you?”
“I am.” he answers with a thick swallow. “Is it okay if I hold you?”
“Please.”
His heart jumps and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, tugging her into his chest. He leans down and kisses her hair.
They sit in the silence for a bit, Y/N finding comfort in Harry’s constant breathing, the sound of his heartbeat.
And then: “So you envisioned this?”
She bites at the smile on her lips before she bats at his pecs, “Shut up. I know you did too.”
Harry has no problem admitting that she’s right.
#writing#english profrry#harry styles#harry styles writing#harry styles fic#harry styles fluff#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#harry styles one direction#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles x reader#harry styles x oc#harry styles x y/n#harry styles angst#harry styles smut#harry styles au#harry styles fic rec#harry styles rec#one direction
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