#harry looks so sweet and innocent | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gurugirl · 5 months

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1. The Unicorn | nanny!yn

Unicorn: An individual who is willing to join an existing romantic relationship. Usually a bisexual female.

Summary: You nanny for the Styles, but Harry and his wife would like to offer you another position.

A/N: This will be 3 parts. Based on this and this.

Word Count: 5.9k

Warning: 18+ only, smut (fingering)

The Unicorn Masterlist

“She’s perfect, Harry.” His wife watched out of the window as you walked to your car parked in front of their house.

“I don’t know. She’s taking care of the kids every day while we’re at work. How does that make her perfect?”

“Because look at her! And she’s so sweet and I just have a sense for these things. She acts all shy and innocent but I bet she’s kinky under it all. And haven’t you seen the way she looks at you?”

He had noticed your glances. The placement of your gaze over his frame. But Harry never thought too deeply about it. Not really. Though he kind of liked that you couldn’t help from dropping your gaze to his lips and then down over his shoulders and mid-torso until every time you breezed your pupils over the natural protrusion at the front of his crotch you were suddenly quickly reminded of what you were doing and bounced your head back just the tiniest bit to correct your sight to the more appropriate height.

But just because you were cute and couldn’t help when your eyes skimmed over his cock with the quickest peek didn’t mean you were perfect to invite into the bedroom with him and his wife. He was hesitant to find a third. He knew that it was unlikely this would end well but his wife had been begging him for it.

Kit was bisexual and once she married Harry, she learned that she often missed the more feminine touches and pretty soft curves. Someone more submissive. It had been almost 8 years since she’d slept with a woman so when she offered a threesome to Harry, she thought he’d jump right at the opportunity but instead, he was worried.

“I think this is a bad idea no matter who it is, but having it be the nanny is like…” he ran a ringed-clad hand through his hair, “… the worst. What if you don’t like seeing me with another woman? Or if I hate seeing you kiss anyone else? I don’t know if I can handle this. And poor Y/n is then stuck in the middle.”

“Harry,” she turned to him and put her hand on his forearm, “You and I are solid. I trust you and you trust me. I know you can handle this. Just the same as I can. I think this will be really good for us. Probably will just make us insatiable for each other. I’m already getting so turned on just thinking about watching you with her. And just imagine it, Harry, having us both laid out, spread legs…” She smoothed a hand up his arm and to the back of his neck, pressing herself close to his body, “You dip into her for a few thrusts and then pull out and—“

“Mom, can I have ice cream? Y/n said I had to wait til you and Dad were home.”

Harry and his wife laughed at the timing. They’d be returning to their conversation later.

. . .

You arrived bright and early Monday morning as requested. You loved nannying for the Styles. Mrs. Styles was so kind to you. She always made sure you had everything you needed and Mr. Styles was funny and easygoing. Plus the twins were a dream. You loved William and Warner as if they were your own.

“Morning, Y/n,” Mr. Styles smiled warmly at you as he opened the door. Warner walked up to you and hugged you. He was the one that liked hugs a lot.

“Morning Mr. Styles…” you laughed and patted Warner’s back, “and you too Warner.”

Mr. and Mrs. Styles left for work not long after but before they left they both asked you if you could stay after work that night. Mrs. Styles would make dinner and the three of you could have a glass of wine and chat a bit after the kids were put to bed.

Of course, you said you’d love to. Though you had kind of been looking forward to going home and watching your show, you wouldn’t mind having dinner with the Styles. The truth was you found Mr. Styles extremely attractive. He was the hottest guy you’d ever seen. He was married so he was obviously off limits but that didn’t stop your brain from short-circuiting every time you were near him.

And because of the way Mrs. Styles acted around you, almost flirty, you sort of had a crush on her too. You were interested in women but had never dated one. You’d only ever been in a couple of real relationships. You were too shy to approach people you found attractive so your pool of potential dates had been low.

So yeah, you’d accept their invitation for dinner.

. . .

“William made a picture today,” you rattled off a few things the boys did. The picture William drew was too cute and he even drew you in between Mr. and Mrs. Styles like you were part of the family.

He held it up proudly and Harry took it and pointed at the figure that was supposed to be you, “Who’s this, Will?”

“It’s Y/n,” he gestured to you.

Harry smiled at William and said how nice it was as he handed the paper back to him. He looked at you for a moment that felt a little warm and lingering before Mrs. Styles brought out the hot pan with food to the table.

When the table had grown quiet as everyone began to eat you wanted to remind Warner to tell his dad that he’d finally gotten the part down on the piano that Harry was teaching him.

“Warner, remember what you were supposed to tell Daddy today?”

When you looked at Harry with a smile you noticed the slightly surprised look on his face but by then it was too late. You hadn’t meant to let the word Daddy slip out like that. If you’d been thinking you’d have said “… supposed to tell your dad today?” Even the twins didn’t call Harry Daddy anymore.

And of course, Warner was already excitedly telling Harry about the part he’d learned on the piano before you could correct it. You hoped no one thought anything of it and while you’d fantasized about calling him Daddy a time or two, you really didn’t mean to say it out loud.

Darting your eyes from Harry to his wife you saw nothing from her at all as a reaction to your misspeak.

Luckily no one seemed bothered by it but you could tell Harry thought something by the surprised smile on his face.

You loved watching the boys interact with their parents. And being able to see it during dinner and then after clean up until they were in their beds with books to read quietly felt special.

Harry, his wife, and you sat in the living room with a bottle of wine. Mrs. Styles sat next to you and she started doing that thing where she looks at you in that way that gets your heart pounding and raises your temperature.

With her hand on your upper arm, she gushed about how much she and Harry loved you. How great of a nanny you were and how lucky they were to have found you.

Harry sat across from the couch in a leather armchair and watched you and Kit with a more solemn look on his face. He nodded at the end of his wife’s praise for you as he looked at you directly. You felt a shiver up your spine at the intensity of his eyes. But it wasn’t just that. There was something so formidable about him. Like he was governing over the moment. He was still Mr. Styles but with an edge of something uncertain. Darker.

You looked back at Mrs. Styles and smiled shyly, “Thank you. So much. I’m really happy to be working for you. And the twins are just amazing. I feel so lucky too.”

Kit’s hand smoothed down your forearm until she softly pushed her fingers through yours. She was sitting with her legs tucked under herself, feet on the couch, and knees angled toward you.

“Honey, you’re coming on too strong,” Harry chided his wife.

“No, I’m not. I’m just being friendly. Y/n is so sweet. I just…” she looked at you, “You don’t mind this do you?”

You loved the way she was looking at you. If you didn’t know any better you’d say she was hitting on you. That had to be wrong, though. Her husband was right there watching you two.

“It’s fine. I know you’re just being friendly.”

Harry laughed and shook his head and spoke his wife’s name in a warning, “Kit. Are you sure you want to do this?”

You looked between the pair. A little confused about what they were talking about. You didn’t know if you’d missed some dialogue somewhere or what but you were definitely picking up a vibe between them.

“If she’s up for it then yes, I’m sure.”

“Up for what?” You questioned them both.

Harry raised his brows and looked at his wife, “I’ll let you do the honors.”

Her hand squeezed at yours gently, bringing your attention back to her. Her other hand brushed over your knee with the tip of her fingers casually, “We think you’re very sweet and pretty, Y/n.” Kit began.

You kept your eyes on hers the best you could but she’d been wearing a low-cut dress and, not unlike the times you dropped your gaze to Harry’s crotch, you couldn’t help peeking at her cleavage with the same attempted deftness.

“And we think you might be fun to…” she paused and looked at Harry, who nodded at her to go on, “Have in bed. For us to share.”

You looked down at where Mrs. Styles was grazing your kneecap with her fingertip and whispered, “To share.”

That was quite a lot. If what she was saying was what you thought she was saying then you’d have to determine if it was worth it.

“You don’t have to say yes, Y/n.” Harry chimed in, “I know you’re a really sweet girl and you don’t want to disappoint anyone but if you tell us no we won’t be upset. You won’t lose your job.”

You were thankful he said that. It had flashed across your mind the idea that if you said no they might not want to keep you around.

“So, you’re like asking me to have a…” you gulped and looked between Harry and his wife, “like a threesome with you?”

“Yes. You don’t have to decide right now. And like Harry said, you don’t have to say yes. We just both find you very appealing and sweet. We’re very much attracted to you too and we trust you. I think we’d all work well together. It could be just a one-time thing or maybe it could be something we do regularly.”

The subject was changed shortly after. They’d done their part. They’d asked you what you thought and now the ball was in your court. You had to figure out what you wanted. Which made it hard to participate in the rest of the conversation. You tried but your brain was having a hard time moving past the things your imagination was coming up with.

“I hope you don’t feel weird after this. No rush to make a decision. Seriously.” Mrs. Styles smiled softly at you as she drew her fingers from the side of your jaw to under your chin delicately.

“Thank you. I just need some time to think.”

She leaned in and kissed your cheek as Harry stood behind her with his hand on her shoulder.

When you’d all finished the bottle of wine Harry and Kit walked you to the door. You still didn’t know what you wanted exactly. In a fun fantasy world (which you’d definitely be visiting in your imagination that night) it would be amazing. To have them both? Yes. That sounded so good. But the reality of it wouldn’t be that easy you knew. Would it be awkward to work for them after? And what if you did some kind of arrangement with them as their… what was it called? A unicorn?

You felt breathless as you got into your car. You hadn’t had all that much wine. A glass and a half. The bottle was split between all three of you so none of you had gotten even close to drunk but you felt all buzzy. And even turned on. The idea of what they were offering sounded like a dream. But maybe that’s how it should remain. Just a dream. A fantasy.

. . .

The following day everything seemed normal. The Styles acted as if they hadn’t just asked if you’d want to have a threesome with them. It felt surreal. Like perhaps it never happened.

But when Harry arrived home first after work you felt like something about him was different. That’s when the cracks started forming. That morning he was friendly like he always was. But now he was brooding. His eyes were heavy on you. As if he was now looking at you differently.

He listened to William and Warner tell him about their day but you felt his eyes singing you as he kept looking your way. You felt intimidated by him suddenly and looking at him in increments longer than a few seconds felt like you’d dissolve.

He walked you to the door after you said goodbye to the boys and held the handle tight before turning it, “You wouldn’t want to stay for a drink would you?”

The way he asked you felt less like a question and more like a reminder to you of what was still left on the table. It was a reaffirmation of what was suggested the night before. It was real. It had happened and he was here to remind you.

You looked down at his hand grasped around his door handle and back up to him. You were compelled to say yes as you began to nod, “Yes. Okay.”

You felt nervous. Harry’s grin looked like he was pleased by your answer.

The boys were playing in their room as he poured you a glass of wine.

“When will Mrs. Styles come home?” It was rare that they weren’t home at nearly the same time after work.

“She’s going out with a friend tonight. She’ll be late. I thought you and I could get to know one another a little better. She knows I planned on asking you to stay. I’m glad you did.”

You nodded and felt your nerves only grow. Alone time with Mr. Styles wasn’t something that ever really happened much. Normally Harry was with his wife when he discussed anything with you.

You both sat on the large couch in the living room as Harry lifted his glass toward yours, clinking them together.

“So, what are your plans this weekend?” Harry had one leg draped over his other casually as he looked down at you.

“Uh… I don’t have any. Normally I just make last-minute plans with friends,” you squirmed in your spot at the way he was consuming you with his eyes.

“Maybe if you find you’re free you could come over Saturday afternoon. The kids will be staying with their grandparents. Kit will be making something special for dinner.”

“Oh, that sounds nice. Yeah. I mean, as long as it’s not imposing,” you were growing hot. Your palms were sweating. Harry was so attractive it was making your body weak. You honestly didn’t care what would be made for dinner but you were curious about where the night might lead if you did wind up in their house without their kids around all night.

“Of course, you wouldn’t be imposing. You’d be the guest of honor,” Harry’s arm slid over the back of the cushion behind you, and you gulped nervously.

“Oh, that’s…” you breathed out a jittery laugh, “… not necessary. No need to do anything special for me.”

“I hope you know that anything that happens, we’d always make it special for you, Y/n. We want you to feel comfortable.”

You could feel the temperature around your body rise with his proximity. You had noted how he’d inched his way a bit closer.

“Thank you, Harry. You and Mrs. Styles are always so nice to me.”

You were visibly nervous. Harry could see it too.

His wife had suggested that he invite you to stay for a drink and more if you allowed it. She really wanted to try any angle to get you to say yes to their offer. She figured if you were alone with Harry for a bit maybe you’d feel more comfortable. So, Harry was working on just that. And the more he thought about you and his wife’s convincing argument to bring in a third, he found he was more and more into the idea.

Plus you were simply the sweetest thing. He could see that you were a little timid and somehow that made his body respond to you in a way he hadn’t felt in a while. It set his blood to a low boil. His wife was lovely. Amazing in bed but it was true that with her there was something missing. He rarely got the opportunity to dominate his wife and really release his natural inclination to flex his prowess with her. Because she was dominant as well. And Harry didn’t mind it for the most part. But he missed certain things.

“We’d like to be more than just nice to you, darling,” his fingers behind you softly brushed against your neck and you inhaled shallowly at the contact. “But you already know what we want. How about you? What do you want, Y/n?”

You fluttered your eyes closed for a moment as you felt the pad of Harry’s thumb slide up your neck. Harry’s cologne and his natural scent were so appealing. You turned to look at him and worked up your nerve, “I think it sounds really fun. The offer. I’ve never been with a woman.”

He licked his lips, “You’ve experienced men, then, yeah?”

You nodded. You were sure he could see you physically melt.

“What do you like, Y/n?”

You had not expected the conversation to go this way, “I don’t… I’m not sure. I’ve not really done a lot. Nothing too crazy,” you laughed your words in embarrassment.

Harry’s soft petting on your neck continued, “That’s okay. We can figure it out as we go. To be honest, we’ve never done anything like this either.”

“And Mrs. Styles? Has she been with women?”

Harry nodded, “Yes. This was her idea actually. She’s been missing a feminine presence in bed.”

You felt the trickle of lust and carnal need swell in your body as Harry drew his free hand across his body and to your knee, “Is this okay?”

You nodded, keeping your eyes on his. You wanted to lean forward and grab your glass of wine and gulp the whole thing in one go but you wouldn’t dare break from his hold. It was intimate and having his hands on you was satisfying.

Harry looked toward the hallway and then back to you, “I’d like to kiss you. Y/n. Are you comfortable with letting me kiss you?”

His lips felt like they’d burst into flames if he didn’t press them into yours. But he couldn’t do that in front of the twins because he knew that once he felt your mouth and your tongue he was going to want more and if you were open to it he’d take it even further. His wife had given him permission as long as he was discreet (not in front of the boys). No sex without her present but some heavy petting and fingering were fine.

“Okay,” you breathed and expected him to kiss you right then as you braced yourself.

“Yeah?” He squeezed your thigh and tilted his head as he looked down over your body, “Go into my bedroom. I’ll be right there.”

You were shaky as you stood up and watched Harry walk away to talk to the twins in their room. The boys were old enough that they’d play by themselves just fine, you knew. You lifted your glass of wine to your lips and gulped half at once. You couldn’t even remember walking to the master bedroom upstairs. Your mind was a swirl of what-ifs and scenarios and questions.

“Are you okay?” Harry said as he closed the door behind himself. Everything was happening in slow motion. You were trying not to feel so floaty and far away but you couldn’t help it. Your experience with sex had been minimal and you certainly had never pictured yourself as part of this situation.

“I’m just nervous. I’m always like this the first time…” You swallowed and looked at the edge of the dresser against the wall.

“That’s okay,” Harry stepped in front of you and rubbed his hands down your arms, “I’m a little nervous too but I really want to kiss you. Just didn’t want the boys to see.”

You nodded in understanding, “And it’s okay with Mrs. Styles?”

His hands slowly grazed up your arms to your shoulders and then around to the back of your neck and head, “Her idea. But in all honesty, I want to kiss you. Feel like I need to.”

Blinking your eyes you raised your arms to hold onto his biceps as you kept your eyes pinned to his. He was solid under your hand. Of course, he was. You knew Mr. Styles was fit and you’d seen him in shorts and t-shirts and once glimpsed his pecs. You knew he had tattoos.

But when he finally nudged his nose to yours and his hot lips wrapped around your mouth everything went from being slow motion and blurry to high speed and heart pounding. You couldn’t get enough of his mouth and his tongue and you gripped his arms until he’d practically lifted you off your feet and pulled you to his bed.

His kisses were wet and warm and he moaned into your mouth. He was ravenous. It made you feel like a seductress, like he craved you.

You were across his lap and twisted to face him with your arms over his shoulders and your tongue pressed to his when he cupped your face and parted from the kiss.

“Y/n… Fuck honey…” he dabbed a kiss to your jaw and then looked back at you, “Can I get your pants off? Make you feel good? No sex tonight,” his words were deep and thick, “That’s for Saturday. But for now,” he ran a hand up your thigh up to your hip, “I can give you a preview with my fingers. If you want.”

“Yes, Harry,” you breathed your words and tried to lean back in for another kiss but he kept you at a distance, his hands on your jaw and fingers cradling the back of your head.

“I really liked it when you referred to me as Daddy last night. Will you do that for me again, honey?”

See. That was the thing. You already thought of him as Daddy. In all your private fantasies you called him Daddy. But it made you nervous because you fantasized about Harry far more than you ever did his wife. Kit was beautiful and she was definitely your type but Harry dominated your secret daydreams. So it would be easy for you to call him Daddy. But it worried you when it came to having his wife included in that dynamic.

“Is that okay? I mean,” you sighed breathily, “Will Mrs. Styles be okay if I call you Daddy?”

“I don’t think she’ll mind,” Harry licked his lips, “Tell you what. Tonight, call me Daddy because I want to hear your sweet voice say it when I finger you, okay? I’ll talk to her and let her know I asked you to and I think she won’t care but if she doesn’t like it we won’t do it again.”

You nodded. Daddy it was. That would be easy.

Harry brought an arm to your low back and leaned you down onto his bed. The bed he shared with his wife. With his knees dug into the bed next to your hip he loomed over you and brought a gentle hand up to the front of your neck and pressed, “How does this feel? Is this okay?”

It was a first for you. To have someone’s hand on your throat. It was a surprise. But the good kind. You loved how small it made you feel and how powerless. You knew if you asked him to remove his hand he would but the notion that you were physically relinquishing your power to him was so hot to you somehow.

“It’s good,” you breathed just before he inched down to kiss you again.

It felt absolutely nuts what you were doing. Making out with your boss, a married man, in his bedroom while his wife who was away gave him permission and even encouraged this situation.

Harry’s hand slid off of your neck and down your t-shirt, “Can we take this off? All of it? So I can see you?”

You nodded, “Yes,” and sat up so you could pull your shirt over your head. Harry unbuttoned his own and watched you unzip your pants and tuck your fingers inside the waistband before lifting your bum to pull them down your legs.

With his shirt unbuttoned you saw more tattoos. You’d paused for just a moment when you took note of his bare chest and abs.

Harry got to his knees and leaned over you, his hands on either side of your hips, “Do you need help with this?”

He put his hands over yours where you were grasping your waistband and helped you pull them off your legs.

His hands found your calves as he looked at you, “You’re so pretty, Y/n. Take your bra off.”

So you did. Unhooking the back and letting the front fall down your arms. Harry’s hands found their spot on either side of your hips again as he softly kissed each of your nipples, “Beautiful. Can I take your panties off?” His fingers were already dancing over the fabric of your waistband, knowing you’d be saying yes.

You gulped and nodded as he dragged the material down your legs, rendering you completely nude. Harry let out a breath as he raked his eyes over skin and curve and freckle.

Harry lay next to you and took your hand in his, bringing it up between you on the mattress, “You still doing okay, Y/n?”

You were feeling very vulnerable and insane for laying completely naked next to him but still you nodded. Because you wanted more of what he was doing.

You rolled to face him on your side when he smeared his mouth over yours. Letting go of your hand he moved his fingers down over your side to your hip and then upper thigh just at the curve of your ass. He squeezed softly but enough that you could feel his big palm grasping your flesh. You lifted your thigh to mantle his hip out of instinct and his palm spread out over the globe of your cheek.

“Want my fingers, honey?”

The way the tips of his fingers were grazing so close to your pussy with your leg draped over him you were losing your mind. All he had to do was lower an inch and he’d feel your wetness.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Harry moaned and moved his head back to look at you, “Oh I really like how that sounds. Let’s have a look then,” he ran his hand over your hip to the front of your tummy as he moved back the tiniest bit to press his fingers over your mound. Slowly his fingers lowered until he met soft wet lips. He breathed in through his teeth, “You all wet for Daddy?”

The smile on his face was cocky but you loved it.

“Yes,” you bit your lip.

With his eyes on yours, he parted your labia with two fingers and slowly ran them down to your opening and then back up until he bumped your clit and pressed over that. You moaned softly.

He was easy with his fingers on you as he kept slipping them up and down, pushing your arousal through your crease and getting his fingers coated.

When he captured your lips in his again you felt him prodding at your entrance. You sucked his tongue into your mouth and he pressed two fingers inside as you grasped onto his shoulder.

You groaned as he fingered you and fixated on the spongy dip inside. You bucked into his hand, “There we go. Feels good doesn’t it?”

You panted yesssss.

The sloppy noises that were coming from between your legs would have been embarrassing if it didn’t feel so good.

“Please,” you breathed as you lowered your hand to his hip, “I wanna see.”

Harry kept thrusting into you with his fingers while his thumb smoothed against your clit, “You can on Saturday, baby. For now, this is all about you.”

You whined and closed your watery eyes as he began to fuck into you faster. His palm was a sticky mess. You raised your hip and rutted into his hand harder.

“You’re gonna grip me so tight and I’m gonna push inside you deep,” he punctuated his words with his thrusts, “Have you creaming all over my cock.”

Your groans grew louder as he pasted his mouth to your neck and you felt the warm press of his tongue on your skin, his curls brushing against your jaw. He shifted so that suddenly you were on your back and he was on his side with his fingers still inside of you, lips on your breasts.

He felt so good and you were already so caught up in the way he was making you feel you’d all but forgotten that this man was married and he was your boss. This was better than your fantasies. He was more confident and a lot more dominant in reality. And just sweet enough that you felt safe.

Harry lifted upward slightly, still pumping his fingers through you causing you to let out a small squeal. You felt his hand cover your mouth and you peeled your eyes open as he lowered his lips to your tits, his fingers plowing through your walls. You were being too loud.

He peered up at you with his tongue gliding over your nipple, his shoulder flexing with each thrust of his arm. Yes, this was definitely better than fantasy. Because it was happening and it felt so good.

You felt his lips slip off the skin of your nipple, “If I take my hand off, you gonna keep quiet?”

Nodding your head you softly moaned into his hand. He pulled his hand away from your mouth and leaned over you to kiss your mouth. Softly at first. It felt like candy-flavored pink sparkle dust magic with his warm lips smoothing against yours, and his nose mushing into your nose.

“Daddy, please…” you breathed as he lifted himself to look down at you.

“What baby?” The sound of your wet pussy getting fingered was the backdrop of you beginning to unravel.

“M’gonna come… Daddy, ffuu– ohhh!” Your mouth was quickly covered again when your volume grew even louder than it had been. You heard Harry softly chuckle just as you clenched around his fingers and grasped his forearm, your neck stretched over the pillow as you arched your back.

Harry looked down at his hand and groaned at how your pussy was devouring his fingers. He couldn’t wait to see what his cock would look like sinking into your perfect cunt. And he thought you were pretty when you orgasmed. He was sure he’d want to make you come over and over again if his wife wasn’t too greedy with you.

“Such a good little girl, Y/n. There you go, baby.” He smirked at you, his fingers still slipping into you, squelching when he buried them in all the way.

“This what you needed? Needed to come on Daddy’s fingers?” Your soft moan was muffled as you finally set your gaze back on Harry who was already looking at you.

“Just imagine how good it’s gonna feel on my cock.” He slid his thumb over your clit and you jolted from sensitivity.

Harry took his hand off your mouth and slowly pulled his fingers from your pussy as he sat back, stuffing his fingers into his mouth to taste you. He could smell your pussy as he was fingering you and couldn’t wait to get a taste.

Popping his fingers out of his mouth he caged you into your spot on the mattress, hovering over you, “How was that?”

“So good,” you were still taking in labored breaths.

His mouth encased yours once again. His kiss was lustful and fiery. You could smell yourself when he cradled your head, his fingers, still damp with you, swiping into strands of your hair.

A deep moan fell from his chest and you pulled your arms over his shoulders and the cotton of his shirt. Your body began to ignite again just before he parted from your mouth with a gasp.

“I’m sorry. Got carried away. Your lips are so sweet,” his voice was deep and breathy. “You okay?”

“Mmhmm,” you nodded and smiled.

Harry insisted on helping you clean up. First, you peed but then he came in and wet a towel to help wipe you and talk to make sure you were okay.

You could tell he had a boner. The front of his trousers was bulged in an obvious way. His pupils were dark and his skin was hot. And you would have loved to have him use you however he wanted to take care of himself but you wouldn’t go against his Kit’s wishes.

“So, Saturday? You sure you want to come over?” Harry handed you the clothes he’d picked up from the floor and his bed.

“Yeah. I’d like to.”

Harry cupped your jaw and smudged your cheekbone with his thumb, “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”

He walked you out to your car and squeezed your hand before dropping it. It felt strange. Like you’d just gotten away with something so immoral and improper but you were elated.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Y/n. Drive safe.”

“Okay. Thank you, Da–“ your eyes widened and you felt your whole body wash in heat as you tried to correct your near-fatal error, “Ha- Harry.”

The grin on his face with smiling dimples told you that he didn’t mind, “Night, sweet girl.”

Part 2

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cupid-styles · 2 months

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valentine's day (nerdrry x camgirl!yn)

word count: 3.5k

content warnings: smut! (exhibitionism, toys/bondage, daddy kink, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, overstimulation)

original nerdrry x camgirl!yn story

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. . .

Most mornings, Y/N can’t remember where she fell asleep the night before.

It’s not because she’s a bad sleeper or has chronic insomnia or anything like that. In actuality, in the past few months that she and Harry have officially started their relationship, they find it nearly impossible to be apart for the night. Y/N hates waking up without feeling his warm body pressed up against hers, his chest curled into the form of her back and his arm looped around her waist, while Harry dreads the feeling of her cold, unmade side of the bed when she’s not there.

So, even with warnings of codependency tucked into the logical portions of their brains, they try not to worry. Instead, they enjoy winter evenings made just a tad bit toastier with the presence of the other: Fuzzy socks and steaming cups of tea, bubble baths and eucalyptus soap-scented kisses, soft palms pressed against one another as they read their respective books in a bedroom bathed in a soft golden light.

It’s good — Y/N thinks it’s all really good, and she’s really happy, and she doesn’t care that it’s Valentine’s Day because every other day that she’s spent with Harry has her walking around with hearts in her eyes, even if her friends tease her over it. But Harry is Harry and he does care — he cares a lot, actually.

He promises her he won’t go all out. She even makes him wrap his pinkie around hers and pledge not to get scammed by buying expensive, overpriced flowers and chocolates. And he doesn’t — he listens to Y/N and opts for a far more lowkey version of what he had envisioned for her.

But right now, Beatrice, his sweet, gray haired cat, is ruining it.

Beatrice is ruining it!

“Bea,” Harry hisses. The cat’s eyes barely blink open and she stays firmly placed on top of Y/N’s chest, where she’s apparently decided to take real estate this morning. “Beatrice Styles, get down!”

He’s trying his best not to speak too loudly to avoid waking Y/N before her surprise, but his hands are full so he can’t scoop Beatrice up and nudge her tush out of the room like he normally does. (Y/N hates having sex with her in the room, explaining that it’s guaranteed to scar her “poor, innocent eyes”, so both Harry and Beatrice are used to the routine by now.) And perhaps this is payback for all the times he’s kicked her out because he swears he’s never seen her so stubborn before.

“Beatrice Stevie Styles, if you don’t get down right now—”

“Are you threatening your cat?”

Harry huffs when he hears Y/N’s croaky morning voice rasp out from above the covers. He shuffles to the edge of the bed and gently puts down the tray he’s holding and leans forward to grab Beatrice’s plump body.

“No,” he mutters, “She just chose a very inopportune time to be… evil.”

Y/N hums non-committedly as Harry places Beatrice down. She hasn’t yet cracked her eyes open, which sends a bolt of excitement through his chest — he still has a chance at surprising her.

“Keep your eyes closed please,” he says as he curls his hands through the wooden handles of the tray.

“To be honest, I think I kind of liked having her on my chest— it was like a soft, suffocating weight. Almost like a weighted blanket, maybe?”

“Y/N,” Harry warns, and she peeps an eye open to see her boyfriend hovering over her, “Y/N! Didn’t I say to keep your eyes closed?”

“Oh! Still?”

He sighs, flashing her an annoyed look before lowering slightly to show her the array of breakfast foods diligently placed over the maple-hued wood: heart shaped pancakes, fruit cut into stars, her favorite tea in a mug with her initial on it. It instantly makes her grin, sitting up hurriedly against the blue velvet of Harry’s headboard.

“This is so sweet,” she coos, looking up at him with a wide smile. The frustration sitting in Harry’s body instantly melts away and he grins back at her, heart squeezing slightly at the tired puffiness in her eyes. “Thank you so much, H. This is perfect.”

“Yeah?” he asks as he slowly places the board down. She moves her book out of the way so he has room on the nightstand. “I know you said nothing big, so…”

“So this is perfect,” she emphasizes. She scooches over and pats the empty spot next to her, encouraging him to lay down next to her. “Happy Valentine's Day. I’m sorry Beatrice and I ruined your big surprise.”

Harry snorts, grabbing the small bowl of fruit and handing it to her. She accepts it graciously and pops a strawberry between her lips before feeding him a blueberry.

“She’s been getting naughtier lately. I think you’re inspiring some bad female energy I didn’t know she had.”

“Or maybe you were just stifling her energy,” Y/N points out, “She needed a cool camgirl in her life to bring it out.”

“Right,” he mumbles playfully and Y/N giggles, elbowing his ribs lightly.

“Speaking of which. You’re still fine with me streaming tonight?”

He shrugs as he leans over to grip her mug, carefully maneuvering the full cup of tea. He sets it on his lap, welcoming the warm feeling between his palms.

“It doesn’t bother me at all, baby. You know that.”

It’s the truth, too — Harry’s willing to recognize that streaming is part of her lifestyle. It’s more than just a job for her, especially considering her 9 to 5 position as a graphic designer is still rather lackluster. In the months that they’ve dated, they’ve had many conversations about it: why she liked streaming and had no plans to give it up, mainly. She viewed it as a form of sexual freedom and autonomy over her own body and the money certainly sweetened the deal. Who was Harry to argue with that?

The only thing that’s changed is her schedule. Since bringing someone new into her life — someone who she cared for and wanted to spend time with — she revised her daily streams to three times a week. She also posted additional photos and videos for members to supplement both the income she was losing, and the content her viewers weren’t getting.

Valentine’s Day is different, though. She’d asked Harry a few weeks back if he cared if she went online that day and honestly, he didn’t. He knows that if he didn’t have her, he would probably look to watching her stream to feel just a little less lonely. And while he wasn’t entirely too keen on sharing his girlfriend with the world, he also knew that they were committed to one another. They were grateful for that stupid website and her dedication to it, otherwise they never would have met.

“I just feel bad,” she says with a sigh, referring to her plan to stream this evening, “Feel like I’m making a fucked up choice.”

Harry shakes his head. “It’s not like we have plans or anything, and you know I’m fine with it. Don’t feel bad.”

Y/N hands him the bowl so she can curl into his side. He welcomes her, eagerly wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her hair.

“It’ll just be a few hours and then you can come over and spend the night,” he murmurs, ducking his thumb beneath the fabric of her tee-shirt to rub circles into the skin. “Or I can come to you if you’re too tired. Whatever works.”

That seems to light a spark in her brain because she’s suddenly sitting back up. Harry’s staring at her and trying not to smile at her wild bed head, but the slightly thrilled look in her eyes is a bit distracting anyway.

“Remember that time we talked about you being with me while I stream?”

Harry raises his eyebrows slowly.

“Like, being in the room with me… telling me what to do… you remember that, right?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah, I remember that.”

“What if we do that?” she asks, shifting onto her knees. “You don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable. But you could be behind the camera and you could just… I don’t know, dominate me from there. Is that hot? Or is it a stupid—”

“Hot,” he cuts her off before coughing into his hand. “Definitely hot.”

She grins. “You think so? We could use that toy I got us forever ago, too. From when we met.”

His chest starts to feel warm as he nods eagerly. “T-The vibrator?”

“Yeah!” she nods excitedly. “So you can control it while I’m streaming, too. Does that sound okay?”

He swallows tightly and tries to will away the hardness thickening up in his briefs.

“I like that a lot.”

“Okay,” she’s smiling at him widely, completely unaware of just how appealing the situation sounds to him. She leans forward to press a light kiss to his lips. “Do you wanna finish breakfast and then shower? I have to be at the office—”

Suddenly, he’s pinning her down against the array of messy blankets scattered over the bed, a sinful smirk on his lips.

“I want you to shut up and let me fuck your face so I don’t accidentally bust when I spend my whole day thinking about tonight.”

She’s giggling loudly, the sound of sunshine and bells chiming in the wind, before dropping her mouth open.

. . .

Y/N spends way too much time tying a heart-shaped shibari harness around her chest, but it’s entirely worth it the second Harry sees her that evening.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, drinking her appearance in. His throat instantly dries as his eyes scan over her lacy pink lingerie set and she warms beneath his gaze, nibbling on her bottom lip.

“Do you like it?” she asks, pushing her chest out slightly.

“Do I like it?” he repeats breathily, running the pads of his fingertips down the length of her chest. He tucks his knuckles beneath the vertical rope and tugs lightly, making her gasp. “You look incredible, baby.”

“Thank you,” she giggles, intertwining her fingers with his free hand, “Are you still feeling alright about this?”

He nods and she smiles, guiding him over to her streaming setup in her spare room. She bounces down on the futon and squeezes his hand. He’s never been on this side of things before, so he has to admit that it’s fascinating and exciting to see it all from her perspective instead of a private tab on his phone.

They discuss the logistics of things before she clicks ‘live’, mainly just in case either one of them gets uncomfortable and wants to stop. In lieu of a safe word, they settle on a motion of tugging their ear three times to signal that they no longer wanted to take part. They decide that Y/N would immediately log off and they would discuss what went wrong — but if both of them are being honest, they’re both bubbling with excitement.

And, with her toy on and ready to go, Harry perched on a chair behind her laptop, Y/N starts her stream.

He swallows nervously and she sends him a wink, a silent, flirtatious reassurance that everything will be just fine. She nibbles on her lip as she waits for the chat room to fill up, a small smile forming as messages begin to float in.

“Happy Valentine’s Day my loves,” she greets cheekily, shifting onto her knees. Her heels dig into her bum as she wiggles excitedly, glancing up at Harry. His tongue peeks out to lick his lips as his eyes scan over her chest and down to her covered core, zeroing in on where her vibrator is inserted firmly inside of her. He palms himself through his briefs as she makes small talk with her viewers.

She leans back and splits her thighs open to reveal a string of lace barely covering her pussy. He swallows back a groan.

“Are you excited to watch me play?” Y/N asks, eyes flickering to the male sitting across from her. It wasn’t her plan, but she can’t help ignoring the chats coming through, instead too enamored by the fact that her boyfriend is watching her. And, as if he can read her mind, Harry nods before mouthing the words touch your tits.

Immediately, she does as she’s told. She pulls the fabric of her bralette down and swirls a finger in her mouth. She pinches her nipples and whimpers softly, back arching slightly.

“Know you love my tits, daddy,” she whimpers, her gaze set on Harry, “They’re all yours. Every bit of me belongs to you.”

With a smirk, he pulls the remote to her vibrator out and clicks it on. She instantly moans at the low sensation pressed deep against her g-spot, eyes rolling back from the intense pressure.

“Touch yourself for me,” she pleads, trailing her fingers down her stomach. She plucks at the straps of her underwear and wordlessly looks to Harry for permission. He nods, and not a second later she’s pulling them down her legs and tossing them to the floor. “Shit— do you see how wet I am for you, daddy?”

The chat goes crazy when they see the vibrator inserted deep inside of her. She can feel her pussy already begin to pulsate around the small silicone toy and she reaches out to grip the blanket beneath her. She only glances up when she hears the familiar sound of slick passes, a whimper leaving her lips when she realizes Harry’s jerking his cock to the sight of her falling apart.

“So good,” she moans, their eyes locked. He stares at her intensely, his gaze only turning her on even more. “Can I touch my clit, please? N-need more.”

Beg, he mouths.

“Please, daddy— fuck, please let me touch my clit, daddy!”

He smirks as he squeezes the base of his length. “Go ahead.” He murmurs lowly, quiet enough so only she can hear him.

Y/N makes hurried motions to circle her clit tightly, whimpering loudly from the much needed stimulation. Her eyes are shut tightly when he turns her vibrator up another notch, eliciting a sharp gasp on her end.

“Oh my god,” she mewls, “I’m gonna cum— fuck, please, can I cum? Please, please—“

Harry cuts her off with another quiet response: “Ask them, not me.”

She can hardly keep her eyes open long enough to read through the responses coming through the chat. It’s an evil punishment, especially when he turns her vibrator up again. Her legs are shaking as she sits up on her elbows, the slightest bite of pain nearly pushing her over the edge from the rope digging into her chest.

“Please, I need to cum,” she begs pathetically, trying to scan over the messages in the chat:

No!!! Edge urself

Cum for us baby

Go ahead

Such a good girl

It’s too much for her to process — the toy is vibrating aggressively against the soft spot deep inside of her and she can’t hold it in much longer. She moans, unable to keep herself from reaching her peak, her muscles tightening and her pussy pulsating. A slew of curses fall from her lips as she rides her orgasm out, eyes rolling back into her skull.

It’s the most delicious feeling, especially knowing Harry is sitting across from her and watching it all happen. Her eyes flicker up to him for permission to take a break, hoping his thumb is already brushing over the off button on the remote, but instead she’s met with a smirk she knows all too well. He looks borderline sadistic as she gasps, their eyes locked when he turns the toy on even higher.

“Oh,” she breathes out, laying back against the mess of blankets beneath her. At this point, she knows all anyone can see is the mess of arousal between her legs. It’s embarrassing and perfect.

“‘s a lot,” she slurs out. She thinks she hears Harry chuckle but she’s not sure. “Fuck— fuck, I think— have another—“

“You do,” this time she’s sure of his quiet voice, hushed so his words are only for her ears. “You have another one in there for me.”

Her knees are bent and knocking together as she wedges her hands between her thighs. She has to do something to ground herself; a half-assed attempt at mitigating the intense pleasure filling her body.

“Inside,” he commands from across the room. She moans, but only because he’s asking more of her. “Put your fingers inside or don’t touch yourself at all.”

She chooses the former because it somehow seems easier, quickly pushing two fingers into her pulsating hole alongside the small vibrator. Harry fills her up more than this but the knowledge of what she’s doing as his direction is incredibly hot. It doesn’t matter that she’s taken more and abused her pussy far more than this before — especially not when she’s a desperate submissive for Harry, willing to do whatever he asks of her.

The slight stretch of her pussy feels delicate and delicious and she can barely gurgle out the words I’m coming before it’s happening. Harry groans at the sight, slicking himself and pumping faster as her ribbon unravels, a small burst of liquid gushing from the movements of her fingers.

As soon as her peak slowly begins to taper off, she’s too exhausted to notice him rise from his seat. She gasps when he shuts her laptop closed before she even has a chance to say goodbye to her viewers. Instead, he leans down to wrap his hand around the rope secured around her chest, pushing her down against the soft fabric of the couch.

“You’re gonna take my cum all over that dirty little pussy,” he growls, pumping his cock quickly in his palm. She’s too stunned and turned on to reply so she quickly nods her head, parting her pussy lips with v-shaped fingers. The toy is still vibrating inside of her, sending aftershocks through her body.

“Good fucking girl,” he grumbles throatily. The sight of her wet center is enough to send him barreling to his orgasm, a series of groans toppling from his mouth as he sprays his seed across her pussy. “Fuck, there you go, baby, take it all.”

She whimpers at the feeling of his warm cum painting her core. As soon as he finishes, she makes quick work to yank the vibrator out, her body entirely too exhausted and overstimulated to stand it for another second.

Harry’s panting loudly as he lowers to his knees and presses a few light kisses to her thigh. He catches his breath as she runs her fingers through his curly hair, coming down from her own influx of lust. She’s unsure of how long they stay like that but eventually, Harry stands up to kiss her forehead.

“Gimme a sec to clean you up,” he murmurs. She nods, allowing her eyes to fall shut. A few moments later, he returns with a damp towel and gently swipes over her core. They settle into a comfortable silence as he does so, and he lays down next to her when he’s finished. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her sleepy form into his side. Exhausted, she allows him to maneuver her.

“Did you have a good Valentine’s Day?” He asks softly. Y/N hums as she buries her head into the crook of his neck.

“The best,” she murmurs, “How about you?”

“The best.” He echoes with a small smile. The quiet returns but neither of them want to fill it. He thinks she’s fallen asleep, assuming he’ll have to help guide her to the shower (which she’ll give him shit about, surely) when she shifts a bit, pressing her cheek into the comforter to look at him.

“I love you, you know.”

It's the first time she's said that to him. It feels like a million fireworks are going off, filling him and making it seem as though he's bursting at the seams with the same love and adoration for the girl next to him.

If he's being honest, he thinks he's known he's loved her — and she's loved him — for awhile now: Through small gestures like when he makes her bed in the morning because she's running late for work, or when she quietly fills up Beatrice's bowls with food and water when he's in a meeting. Bigger things, too — her taking the day off for his birthday and doing whatever he wants, all day. Or the time she picked up two of his favorite scent of candle because they were on sale, or when she's had a bad day so he surprises her with her favorite meal (garlic chicken stir fry with extra cilantro) via meal delivery service because he knows she wants to be alone.

"Yeah," he nods with a smile, "I do know. I love you, too."

979 notes · View notes

stylesloveclub · 7 months

Text

sunshine (making out blurb)

first blurb for grumpyrry x sunshine virgin y/n!!!

sunshine masterlist

+++

Y/n’s math homework is always a little less horrible when she’s doing it with Harry.

When it’s just her doing calculus by herself, it’s miserable. She gets stressed out as soon as she gets a problem wrong, overwhelmed by all the weird symbols and shortcuts that she doesn’t know. Calculus is just so stupidly hard! She usually has to spend an hour just reading the textbook and finding videos to help her understand whatever they just learned in class… until she eventually gives up and goes to bed.

It’s different with Harry though. There’s something about the way he explains things to her that just makes it make sense. She’s told him time and time again that he should be the one up there teaching the class instead of her stupid professor. He makes math easy. A big part of it might be because he’s right there to catch her mistakes and answer her questions if she gets stuck, but also he’s just a really good teacher. He breaks concepts down for her in a way that isn’t all complicated and math-y, but like a fun little puzzle. And if she doesn’t get it, he’ll do the problem right in front of her, explaining every step and pausing to make sure she gets it. He’s patient and motivating, and pushes her to solve problems by herself, even if she’s scared that she’ll do it wrong.

Plus, he gives her a nice little kiss as a reward every time she solves a question right, so you best believe she’s not giving up until she gets every damn question in that textbook right!

“Good job sunshine,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

They’re sitting thigh to thigh on her bed, y/n’s ipad in her lap and her textbook right in front of her criss-crossed legs. She’s in a cutsie little pajama set, matching white pj shorts and a tiny tank top with little roses printed all over it. Harry sits with his legs spread out in front of him, with one of his hands gently resting on her back as he leans over her shoulder and checks her work. She smiles cutely, the apples of her cheeks rounding out as Harry’s pink lips pucker against her cheek as a reward. Not only does she feel proud of herself for getting the math right, but she also feels her heart do a backflip every time Harry gives her a kiss. Who knew doing her math homework could be so fun!

She flips her pencil around in her fingers, turning her head to the side so she can get a proper reward. Kisses on the cheek are good motivation for when she’s struggling and she needs a little something to keep her going through a hard problem… but she got this one right. Her eyes meet his bright green ones, which are glimmering softly. He’s already smiling at her, his thumb tracing soft little circles on her back, and he doesn’t deny her when she leans in for a soft, sweet, and innocent kiss on the lips. In fact, when she tries to pull away from her soft little peck, he follows her forward, refusing to disconnect their lips until he gets a few more kisses in.

It makes her giggle against his lips, pushing on his shoulders. “I only have one more,” she says, not wanting to get distracted when she’s so close to being done.

The dimple in his cheek deepens, and he stares at her softly. His eyes are so intense, as if he’s looking straight into her heart, as if he’s trying to see into the depth of her soul so he can really understand her. They flicker back and forth between hers, filled with just pure adoration. “If you get this last one right, I have a surprise for you,” he whispers mischievously.

Y/n’s eyes widen, a flash of excitement flickering over her irises. “What?” she asks eagerly, her hands landing on his thigh.

His lips twist in an impish smile, and he nods towards her homework. “Do it and you’ll see.”

She gets it right in one try, zero questions asked. It seems like kisses and little surprises are really all it takes to teach y/n math. She’s looking back at him with giddy eyes, basking as he gives her one last kiss for doing her homework correctly. “Go look in my bag,” he mumbles against her lips, one of his hands coming up to tuck her hair behind her ear. She pulls away from him, giving him a suspicious look with squinted eyes and pursed lips, but he just smiles and nods his chin towards his bag.

She gets up and cautiously approaches, peeking back at him nervously. All he does is smile, leaning back onto her pillows and putting his hands behind his back. She unzips his bag, and inside of it…

“Oh,” y/n’s eyes round out as soon as she sees it. “Harry,” she whimpers, turning around to face him with a pout. Inside of his bag is the cutest pink stuffed elephant, with a little elephant nose that makes y/n want to cry. The elephant has animated eyes and big floppy ears, and it’s soft and fuzzy and just makes her heart melt because it’s so her and it’s so Girl and her grumpy boyfriend just knows her so well!!! She picks up the elephant and runs over to her bed with it and she gets extra excited when she sees how perfectly her new friend fits in with the rest of her pink stuffies and pillows. She climbs straight on top of Harry, putting the elephant next to her worn out stuffed bunny, and throws her arms around his shoulders.

“Thank you, I love it, it’s so cute,” she babbles, burying her face in his neck. She’s almost getting emotional because there’s absolutely no occasion for him to be getting her gifts, her voice getting a little high pitched and wobbly. Harry smiles like it’s no big deal, his hand petting her hair softly as he chuckles softly. “What’s it for?” she asks, pulling away and looking at him with big round eyes.

He shrugs. “Saw it when I was out last night. Thought you would like it.”

She stares at him with that endearing little pout, not knowing what to do except to lean in and kiss him. She puts her hands on his face, her fingers cupping his and his smiling cheeks pressed against her palms, and pulls him forward so she can press her lips against his.

His lips struggle to kiss her back with how big he’s smiling, so in awe of her and how cute she is, but he manages to rest a hand on her hip and pucker his lips against hers. Her hands slide down to hold onto his shoulders, and her fingers twist in his shirt as their lips fold over each other. She loves kissing him, she really does. Whenever she flutters her eyes shut and presses her lips against his, all her worries melt away. Her shoulders relax and her mind goes blank. Harry brings up a hand to cup her jaw, and his thumb traces over her cheekbone softly, just feeling her delicate skin.

They haven’t gone any further than these innocent kisses so far, except for that first time in his room, when he’d turned what should have been her romantic first kiss into an impromptu makeout sesh. He felt horrible when he found out that he’d tried to casually hook up with her when she hadn’t even had her first kiss! And absolutely sick to his stomach when he realized he’d been her first kiss, and that he had fucked it all up!

A sweet little sunshine girl like her deserved to have the first kiss of her dreams, he mourned. At a moonlit picnic or in a garden of roses. And he’d given her the worst first kiss. He literally made her cry.

Since then, there have been plenty of better, sweeter, more romantic kisses, to make up for that teensy little blip of a first kiss – kisses on her front doorstep after the most magical first date, kisses at the park underneath the cherry blossom trees, goodnight kisses in her bed before he tucks her in and heads home for the night. But nothing more than that.

Tonight though… he’s tempted to try a little something more.

He kisses her lips one final time before pulling away with a soft click, his hand still gently cupping her jaw. His eyes slowly open, and he finds his sunshine already looking right back at him, her eyes wide and moony. Her lips are parted, so soft and delicate and kissable, and she blinks innocently. She’s so cute, so reactive and eager. She’s staring at him like he just gave her the world with that little kiss.

His fingers trace down from her cheek to her lips, and then to her jawline. With the softest nudge he tilts her head to the side, then brushes her hair off to the side to expose her neck. When his lips skim the sensitive skin right above her pulse point, her breath catches in her throat. Her grip on his shirt tightens, and her thighs tense from where she’s sitting atop him, straddling his hips.

His lips press against her neck so softly, the most delicate kiss he’s ever pressed against her skin. His eyes flutter shut and he just lingers there, inhaling deeply. She smells like vanilla and sugar cookies. She makes his heart pound and his head spin. His hand on her hip holds on tighter, his fingers dimpling her soft skin as he starts to press more kisses up her neck and around her jawline.

Y/n’s eyes flutter shut and she tries to regulate her breathing, but her breaths are short and shaky and she can’t think straight. Harry’s breathing sends shivers down her spine, tickling her ear every time he exhales. His cotton candy lips tickle her throat and press down in hot, slow, gentle kisses. She swallows thickly and tries to hold down all the noises that want to escape her, but somehow a breathy moan leaves her lips. She feels herself grow hot and she’s not sure if it’s embarrassment at how weak she sounds, or if she’s just getting all hot from how Harry’s tongue just darted out to lightly tease her neck.

Harry smiles to himself lightly, deciding to test the waters and suck a little bit at her neck. He forgets, sometimes, just how innocent and inexperienced his angel of a girlfriend is. She gets worked up easily and is so responsive to his touch. Even the lightest of kisses against her throat have her whimpering and floating in another world. He loves it. He can sense how antsy she’s getting now, how she’s shuffling around on his lap and fisting at his shirt. She hopes he can’t tell how sweaty her palms have gotten, and she’d actually die if she knew that he could feel her clenching around nothing through her tiny sleep shorts.

He doesn’t spend too much time on her neck, not wanting to leave any marks without her permission, instead sliding his fingers into her hair and tilting her head down again so it’s no longer thrown back. She lets him maneuver her easily, opening her eyes, her chest rising and falling heavily. Her eyebrows pinch together as she briefly looks down at his lips, longingly. She tries to get ahold of herself, but just a few seconds of him loving on her neck have sent her into a spiral. She’s so sensitive, so reactive – she jumps when his hand migrates to her thigh, goosebumps rising as he rubs up and down her bare leg.

Harry’s eyes are warm and fond as he just stares at her– her pretty eyes and her delicate eyelashes, her lips, her cheeks, her smile. He tries not to linger too much on how cute she looks in her pajamas, how the low neckline accentuates her neck and her collarbones or how the thin material fails to conceal her peaked nipples. If he thinks about it too hard, he’ll get hard. And he doesn’t want that yet, doesn’t want to overwhelm his sweet, pure, innocent sunshine with his horny thoughts.

He kisses her again as a distraction, slotting their lips together, and it’s sweet and simple and calming. Kissing her is comforting, her lips a safe haven. She could be an angel, for all he knows, with a halo and wings and everything.

“Sunshine,” he murmurs between kisses, “do something for me?”

“Hm?” she hums, hazy and half-paying attention. She stutters a bit when Harry’s tongue flicks at her bottom lip, and then at the seam of her lips. He gives a reassuring kiss.

“Open up f’me a bit.” His hand cups her jaw and he soothingly pets her face, as if coaxing her to part her lips. “Wanna– wanna taste you.”

She can’t help but pause, pulling back from the kiss for just a second to process what he’s said, but she’s nodding yes before any insecurity can fill her mind. “Okay,” she says softly, swallowing nervously. “Um–” she tries to ask this without embarrassing herself, “What do I do with my tongue?”

He continues pressing kisses to the corner of her mouth, “Jus’– um – lick against mine, sunshine.” He pulls away for just a second, eyes half-hooded and not at all fazed about having to explain this to her. “Dunno how to really explain it. You’ll get the hang of it, though.”

She nods once more, insecurely, and flutters her eyes shut as Harry leans back in to continue kissing her. His fingers scratch deliciously against her scalp as he licks against her lips again – this time, she opens. His tongue dips in slowly, like soft honey, warm and wet. It’s unfamiliar, sure, but it doesn’t bother her. She tries to mimic the way his jaw falls slack, and how his tongue dips forward and back softly, opening up for him more and more as he continues to gently kiss her. He licks into her again, brushing his tongue against hers and she finds herself not even thinking as she brushes back. Her eyebrows pinch together and her nails start to dig into his back as she unconsciously leans closer to him.

Their lips move against each other slowly, a sultry dance that’s all brand new to y/n… but god is it hot to have his tongue in her mouth. He’s warm and wet and playful, using his tongue to tease her lower lip while they kiss, flicking against her tongue flirtatiously. A whimper crawls up her throat, needy and desperate for more. He’s showing her things that she’s never experienced before, and all the pent up sexual desire she’s had is bubbling up in her tummy, begging to be released.

She’s started to move her hips against him in soft rolls, grinding herself down as subtly as she can, and Harry’s hands on her hip seems to be encouraging her, gripping her tightly and pulling her closer and closer. Her arms unravel from around his shoulders and sneak their way down to the hem of his shirt, fingers finding the firm, warm skin of his abdomen. Her hands skim upwards to feel the lines of muscle that line his tummy, and she can’t believe that this green eyed adonis is literally her boyfriend. She lightly tugs on the shirt signaling that she wants it off, and starts whining while her hips move against his and Harry lets out a deep, low groan.

He gently grabs her hands that are toying with the edge of his shirt and guides them back around his neck. “Not yet, baby,” he mumbles, giving a couple of soft, more tame pecks while his hand slows down her hips. He gives her one firm kiss to her lips to leave her breathless, then traces some more down her neck while she pants up towards the ceiling. Her throat bobs as she swallows thickly, and for the first time, her eyes are filled with lust, arousal, and need. Harry looks just as bad as her, his eyes dark, pupils blown out, lips pink and swollen.

“Need t’take it slow,” he rasps, sounding more like he’s trying to convince himself rather than y/n.

She takes a deep breath, and nods her head, understanding. He’s doing this for her, saving her firsts so that they can be comfortable and memorable and special special… but god, sometimes she wishes he would just rip her clothes off and stuff his cock inside of her the way Rhysand does in the book she’s reading right now. Virginity is overrated anyway, who cares how she loses it! (she does)

But she agrees nonetheless, rolling off of him with a heavy sigh and wiping her lips with the back of her hand. She feels sticky in between her thighs and her heart has not beat at a normal pace for the past ten minutes of kissing Harry. But, whatever. She picks up her new stuffed elephant, petting its floppy ears softly, and thankfully doesn’t notice the way Harry has to subtly adjust his plumped up cocked.

She just flops down next to him, elephant in hand, kicking her feet in the air behind her, and asks, “What do you think we should name her?”

+++

It’s become a sort of routine for Harry and y/n to hang out after class on Friday nights.

Monday and Wednesday nights, y/n is usually at the library studying, and on Tuesday/Thursdays, Harry has a math lecture from 6-7:20. Of course, Harry will oftentimes sit at the library with her, maybe do some homework (or usually take a nap) while she reads her biology textbook and takes color coded notes. And on the nights that Harry has his late night lectures, she’ll stay on campus a little later so that they could get dinner together before class.

But Friday nights are when they really get to see each other. Sunshine is usually too burnt-out by the end of the week to even think about studying, and Harry is more than content to sit at his apartment and play video games while she reads a book in his bed.

It’s their favorite way to hang out after a long week. No loud parties, no stinky rooms, no distractions. Just them, together.

Blake’s gone back to visit his hometown for the weekend, so Harry and y/n have his apartment all to themselves. That means that instead of hiding out in his room like usual, they’ve migrated out to his living room. Harry’s playing some video game on the TV, filled with blood and war and gory stuff, but he’s turned down the volume so that the gross sounds don’t bother sunshine while she’s reading. She’s got a big hardcover book in her hands (Happy Place by Emily Henry), a book that she’d gotten when they went to Barnes and Noble together last Friday. She’s only just had the chance to start it, though, since she had a big bio midterm earlier today.

Harry sits shirtless on the couch, his eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched in a serious way that looks insanely hot from where y/n is sitting. Her back is resting against the other arm of the couch, facing Harry with her feet up and crossed at the ankle, her pink fuzzy socks almost brushing against his elbows. He’s shirtless, only wearing a pair of gray sweats (!!!), and his arms just look so… big and yummy. She can see the small freckles and bumps on his tanned back as he hunches over his controller, and can’t tear her eyes away from the shadows of muscles along his back and shoulders. And his heart shaped lips… so pink and plump and kissable…

An amused smirk gradually spreads on Harry’s face, signature dimple denting his cheek as he feels y/n’s hungry eyes feasting on him from the other end of the couch. From the corner of his vision, he can see the way she’s chewing on the inside of her cheek, how her eyes are captivated by his bare torso with such fascination.

He doesn’t think she even realizes how long she’s been staring at him.

He gives her a quick glance, eyes glimmering teasingly, and she realizes that she’s been embarrassingly caught. Quickly, she averts her eyes back down to her book, pretending like nothing happened.

Harry chuckles. “Whatcha starin’ at, sunshine?”

“Nothing,” she hums casually, despite her burning hot cheeks.

He pauses his game, putting the controller down onto the little coffee table next to him, and turns towards her. She refuses to meet his gaze this time, continuing to stare down at the page even though she’s processing about 0% of the words that she reads. No, her brain is exceedingly preoccupied with how her very attractive and very shirtless boyfriend is staring at her right now, with that teasing look in his eye. And that stupid, smug smirk. He’s like a snake about to attack a tiny little garden bunny.

“Baby…” he goads, but she continues to pretend-read her book. Only when he lightly tickles her sock-covered foot does she pay any attention to him, yelping out and jolting her feet away. He snorts out a laugh as she folds both her feet underneath herself, clumsily protecting herself from Harry’s devilish fingers. It wouldn’t be hard for him to tackle her right now, hold her down on the couch while his fingers dig into her ribs and under her armpits until she's cry-laughing. He’s done it plenty of times before, and has found it to be the most effective way to get her attention… so she puts the book down obediently and looks up at him with a shy smile.

“Hi,” she says innocently, pretending like she hadn’t been ogling him for five minutes straight while he’d been playing his game. She just sits there with her hands in her lap, as if she’s an angel.

He smiles knowingly. Her longing stares and hungry eyes are her silent indication that she wants a kiss. The type of kiss where he pulls her into his lap, licks into her mouth, and palms at her ass. A real, proper make out.

She probably doesn’t know that she’s so obvious about it, he thinks – staring at his lips with puppy dog eyes and drooling over his bare chest. She’s trying to play it casual, but he can see the needy glimmer in her eyes. It seems like making out with her that first time in her bedroom opened the floodgates, unleashing something in y/n that had been so innocently contained by her angelic, virginal facade. Ever since then, she’s been giving him these eyes, begging for more.

He shakes his head to himself, still smirking, before leaning forward to kiss her. This is exactly what she wants, and Harry knows it. Her longing stares and hungry eyes were just her silent way of asking for a kiss, since she’s a little too shy to ask for it straight up.

Their lips fold over each other, a slow kiss, gentle and meant only to subdue y/n. The only sound in the room is the soft smacking of their lips against each other, the little click that comes every time his lips slide off hers and then reattach milliseconds later. He leads the kiss (he always does), so every time he tilts her head, sunshine tilts the other way. When he slides his fingers into her hair, she stretches her neck upwards. When his teeth nip at her bottom lip teasingly, she whines with furrowed brows, pressing herself against his lips harder. And when he licks at the seam of her lips, she opens up for him, just like he taught her.

He can feel his cock stirring, and forces himself to pull away. It’s a kiss deep enough to satisfy most of sunshine’s needs – to quiet her racing mind and get her focused on just him and nothing else – but it’s also nothing too intense to overwhelm her. And, it’s tame enough for Harry to be able to show some restraint.

He has to take a second, hovering in front of her with his eyes still closed. His hand is still cupping her jaw, just reveling in the taste of her chapstick that lingers on his lips… he takes a deep, calming breath. Breathe in, hold for seven seconds, then out. He’s strong.

But… when he opens his eyes, she’s looking up at him with disappointed and longing irises, her bottom lip jutting out sadly. She wants more, her eyes clearly say, and she’s needy for him, her pouted lips tease.

Okay maybe he’s not that strong.

He’s barely kissed her, and yet her pupils are blown out with desire, breath already catching in her throat. He wonders how disheveled she’d look if he really kissed her. How she’d whimper out little noises if he licked into her mouth, or how her chest would rise and fall while she tries to catch her breath. She’d probably grip onto his shirt, wrap her arms around his neck and twist her fingers into his hair, tugging on it desperately. And he’d grip her hips, grind her down onto his cock, bite on her bottom lip and suck on her tongue… god, his dick twitches at the thought of it.

If he were strong, he’d shut his eyes and get a hold of himself – but he’s not. Instead he stares at her pretty lips, slicked and swollen just from that little bit of kissing. His thumb softly brushes against the apple of her cheek, while her eyes only grow wider and more pleading. If he likes her lips so much, then why doesn’t he just get back to kissing her!

His thumb comes down to tug on her pouty lip so he can watch it bounce back into place. His eyes darken, his nose flares, and his eyebrows furrow, and then he hears her whimper, literally whimper because of how pent up and needy she’s feeling. His resolve crumbles.

If she wants more, he’ll give her more.

He kisses her again, still soft and gentle, but somehow it’s hotter. Needier. Their lips fold over each other over and over again, an eager, spit-slicked exchange. The only sound in the room is the soft smacking of their lips against each other, the little click that comes every time his lips slide off hers and then reattach milliseconds later.

Y/n is unconsciously lifting herself up to be closer to him, nearly sitting on her knees now, pressing herself upwards and upwards. At this point he should just pull her on top of her, he thinks, so he puts a hand on her hip and coaxes her onto his lap.

She’s clumsy as she climbs onto him, too concentrated on not messing up their kiss to successfully untangle her own legs (she’s still new to all this), but Harry doesn’t mind it. It’s endearing, how her foot gets stuck underneath her butt as she presses herself closer to him, or how her knee knocks against his hip as she tries to straddle him. His hands gently guide her thighs as she maneuvers herself onto his lap, hands encasing her ribs and steadying her uncoordinated movements.

His thighs spread open in a natural manspread, and he slouches down enough on the couch so that y/n’s a head above him. She has to lean down to keep their lips connected, her hair falling into his face, and her hands tentatively find their way to his shoulders so that she can keep her balance and not fall on top of him. Harry’s fingers gently brush the hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear, then linger on her face, tracing over her cheekbone and cupping her jaw. He loves holding her face when he kisses her, especially because she unconsciously leans into his touch, sighing happily the way a kitten being pet would purr.

She never knew the simple act of kissing could be this hot… but there’s something about having his warm mouth against hers, feeling the slick of his spit as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth… even just feeling his heavy breaths against the side of her cheek. Soft sighs and little moans escape her in a way she can’t control, and her brows pinch together in the cutest, most desperate way when his hands migrate over her bum and start palming her.

She just wants to kiss him over and over and over again! No breaks, not even to breathe. She wants to feel his lips against hers until she passes out.

She reciprocates his every move eagerly, like a little puppy learning how to do tricks. She’ll move her head whichever way his nose nudges her, slot her lips against his at whatever pace he decides on. When he breathes, she breathes, and when he slides his fingers into her hair, she stretches her neck upwards. He’s constantly tilting his head to the left and then to the right, switching between suckling on her top and bottom lip, alternating between open mouth and closed mouth kisses – just teaching her as he kisses her.

Harry pulls away softly, pressing his forehead to hers and petting the apple of her cheek with his thumb, giving her a break to catch her breath. “Alright?” he asks a bit breathlessly. She nods, eager but apprehensive. Harry calms her with a simple peck, soft and familiar. “Y’doing so good, sunshine,” he murmurs reassuringly.

He’s kissing her again three seconds later, slower and more deliberately this time. She parts her lips once more, more sure of herself this time, and when his tongue flicks against her bottom lip softly she experimentally licks back. It immediately illicits a deep groan from Harry. He slides his tongue past her lips, tasting her, licking into her. His teeth nip at her bottom lip teasingly, and she whines with furrowed brows, pressing herself against his lips harder. He’s obsessed with her. Her lips are so soft, her body so pliant, he could kiss her for hours on end.

She’s growing more and more desperate as their kiss grows hotter and hotter. Her hands on his shoulders start to wander, grazing over his tattooed chest, and she shuffles around on his lap, trying to wriggle closer to him. She’s getting that tingly feeling in her center that she only gets when she’s reading one of those books, and unconsciously, she starts grinding her center down on his lap.

Harry lets out a strained groan, his hands immediately shooting down to hold her hips still. “Fuck,” he rasps, throwing his head back.

“Hm?” Y/n is out of it, chasing after his lips as he pulls away, completely unaware of Harry’s discomfort. She pouts at how his fingers are digging into her hips, preventing her from wriggling any closer to him when it’d felt so good! “What’s wrong?”

She threads her fingers through his hair, her nails scratching against his scalp, and tries to pull him back for a kiss – but he turns his head to the side, refusing. The abruptness leaves y/n disgruntled and confused. She’s panting, a bit breathless from how his tongue had been licking in her mouth, the electricity that had been flowing through her veins slowly fizzling away. Her lips are swollen, nearly bruised, and furrows her brows at the abrupt end to this >very nice kiss.

"Need–" he licks his lips, "need t'take a second."

"Why?" she whines, staring down at his mouth.

"M'bout to cum in my pants, sunshine. Gimme a bit."

Her eyes widen. She looks down and sure enough… there’s the outline of his hard cock, a prominent bulge in his sweatpants. She’s never actually seen one in person and– gosh the size of it makes her tremble a little bit. Is that normal or is he just really big? He looks thick, and the tip of his cock is a significant length down his thigh. Why is her mouth watering? She swallows thickly and looks back up at him, like a deer caught in headlights.

She tries to give him some space, moving her hips back so that she’s not brushing against his erection… but even that small movement is painful for Harry, making him throw his head back with a loud groan. “I need to go to the bathroom,” Harry pants, hands on her hips, already lifting her off his lap.

“What– oh!” she squeals as she’s suddenly thrown onto the couch.

She blinks. The bathroom door shuts.

She’s never been more aroused in her life.

+++

Harry has his hand down his sweatpants before he can even lock the door, fishing out his cock and palming himself with a deep groan. His pants slide down to midthigh as he spreads his own precum over his shaft, his fingers wrapped around himself in a tight fist. He pumps quickly, making sure to rub a thumb over his tip every once in a while, as that's one of the easiest ways to make himself cum. He wants this to be quick – he’s not in the bathroom jerking off because he wants an insane orgasm… he just wants his cock to stop hurting while he’s kissing his girlfriend!

He throws his head back against the wall and thrusts his hips into his own hand, conjuring up all the images in his head – y/n’s pretty lips, slicked and swollen with his spit. Her disheveled hair, mussed up from his fingers. Her wide, moony eyes, her dreamy sighs and whimpers. Her cute bum in her tiny shorts, that had fit so nicely in the palm of his hand, that had jiggled so prettily when he lifted her onto his lap. His toes curl as he lets his thoughts get more explicit – how pretty would she look if she were the one jerking him off right now? If she was down on her knees with her tiny hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him and looking at his prick with those bambi eyes. What if she took him into her mouth? Laved her tongue around his tip the way his thumb is doing now? His biceps bulge as he jerks himself off, harder and faster, more cum leaking from his tip and making the glide smoother. If only he could fill up her mouth, cover her pretty lips with his cum…

His entire body shivers, long white streaks bursting from his cock and all over his fist. He bites his lip, refusing to let any sound escape the bathroom for y/n to hear. She’s not ready for… this.

He looks at himself in the mirror– his cheeks are flushed, his hair is a mess, and his cock looks worn out. He washes his hands in the sink with soap, shamefully washing away the mess he made on his own hand, then splashes his face with water. His prick is still sensitive and he winces as he tucks himself back into his sweatpants. It’s barely been five minutes since he first entered the bathroom, meaning that he lasted a whopping… three minutes.

She says nothing when he comes back, already back to reading her book. He lets out a sigh of relief.

He stays firmly on his side of the couch for the rest of the night.

+++

“Harry,” y/n moans.

Her hair is splayed out on Harry’s pillow underneath her head, Harry hovering right above her. He has one hand pressed on the bed to keep him above her, and the other on her hip, roaming up and down her body. One minute he’ll be cradling her ribcage delicately, and the next he’ll be gripping her thigh and hoisting it up and around his waist so that he can fit his hips in between hers.

Her hands are similarly roaming up and down his chest and his back, holding onto his shoulders and grabbing his biceps as he kisses her. Her back arches as his hand squeezes her bum, and a broken whimper filters between their lips. His tongue slips into her mouth when she whines, gliding against hers smoothly. And when he pulls off from the kiss, he lightly bites at her lower lip, tugging on it playfully before letting it bounce back into place.

He buries his face in her neck, kissing down to her shoulder and over her collarbones, sucking lightly and then smoothing his tongue over the abused spots soothingly. His teeth nip and graze the thin skin of her throat, and his chest rumbles when she throws her head back to grant him more access.

This is torture for him.

It had started off so innocently, just the two of them watching Netflix together. His head was laying on her chest while they watched their movie, her fingers brushing through his hair (he loves it when she plays with his hair). But then – god, he’d been so stupid!!! He looked up at her, and saw her pretty face and her pretty eyes and her pretty lips… and he just wanted to kiss her so bad. One kiss wouldn’t hurt, he told himself!!!

He lifted his head from where his ear had been pressed against her breast, and leaned up to just press one sweet, innocent kiss to her lips. But then, one kiss turned into two, and two turned into three. He hated how she had to strain her neck and lean down to reach his lips, so he twisted around to make it easier for her. But then his neck started to hurt, so he pushed himself up so he was hovering above her. And now his dick is hard, and he’s grinding it down into her most intimate area.

He’s mentally bashing himself while kissing her – he should’ve had more self-control, he should pull away and go to the bathroom to sort himself… but also he can’t stop kissing her.

Y/n has zero complaints either, practically egging him on, begging him to go further. She threaded her fingers through his hair while they kissed, and wrapped her arms around him so that he wouldn’t pull away. She whimpered and whined prettily, fluttered her eyes when he kissed down her throat, arched her back into him and lifted her hips so that she could press herself into the area where he was obviously very hard.

He’s literally just a guy. How is he supposed to pull away when his soft and sweet girlfriend is pressing herself against her cock and moaning against his lips?

“Fuck,” his voice is strained and there’s a vein bulging in his neck as he takes a second to breathe. Y/n has learned well, and starts trailing kisses along his jaw while he catches his breath. She tries her hand at sucking marks on his neck, but finds herself too impatient to focus all her energy on one spot when she just wants to kiss all over his neck and cheeks! Her lips skim the corner of his mouth, pressing soft, teasing kisses.

He breathes heavily, shutting his eyes and trying really, really hard to not cum in his pants.

Y/n makes it practically impossible though, whining “kiss me,” as her nails scratch deliciously at his scalp. Fire rushes through his veins at the sound of her voice and he nearly collapses on top of her.

“Baby…” he says, half warning and half pleading. She’s literal heaven on Earth. Her lips are like magnets, and when she skims her lips over his he can’t help but pucker to connect them in a kiss. She bites down on his lip, teasing him, and licks into his mouth, desperately wanting to feel his tongue gliding against hers again.

She’s a riled up little thing, concupiscent and needy, eager to kiss for hours at a time. He’s had to invest in a jumbo sized vaseline to keep his lips hydrated with how overworked his lips are. And she’s naughty under her good girl, studious, bookworm persona. She tugs on his hair and leaves scratches on his back when they kiss, wraps her legs around him and lifts her hips to grind her softest areas against his hardness. She moans and whimpers and tells him how good he feels, presses her breasts up to his chest… god he can only imagine how she’ll act when he actually gets to touch her.

His hand slides up her side, over her ribs and to her breast, palming it over her t-shirt. She loves being groped, apparently, always leaning into his touch whenever his hands pinch her tits teasingly or cup her ass. It makes her even needier for him, makes her more desperate to get rid of the clothes and jump straight in. Neither of them know how they’ve managed to go this long with only make outs and groping, when they’re just so obsessed with touching and feeling the other. It’s mostly only Harry’s romantic heart that has managed to keep them strong, who is absolutely adamant on giving y/n sweet and cherishable firsts. These hot makeouts are just a loophole around his rules.

Harry loses himself in her, lets her fill up all his senses. She’s all he can hear, all he can smell, all he can taste, and all he can touch. His mind is void of anything except for getting closer to sunshine, kissing her more and touching her more. Her tits are soft and warm, her bum is round and biteable, and her cute little tummy jumps whenever his fingers skim over it. He unconsciously grinds his hips into her center, the tip of his cock rubbing against her clit, from what he can feel through her thin shorts. His jaw goes slack every time he grinds himself against her, the pressure in his pants growing tighter and tighter– until he groans loudly above her, hiding his face in her chest as his entire body shudders and his arms grow weak.

Y/n freezes, knowing that this particular grind of his hips was different from the rest. Instead of rolling his hips forward and backward, the way he’d been doing before, he presses his hips firmly against her and ruts forward in short jolts, hips twitching and abdomen clenching. A raspy groan leaves him, his cheeks red as cherries and his eyes hooded with pleasure. Y/n feels herself gushing at the thought of what just happened, and replays it in her head over and over and over again. Her voice cracks around a moan as he gives one final thrust against her, his hand squeezing around her tit firmly and erotically brushing against her nipple.

Their eyes meet, hers wide and blown out with a mix of innocent shock and filthy thoughts, while his are clear as the morning sky after a night of cleansing rain. He radiates post-orgasmic bliss.

His cheeks are red like cherries and his eyes are lust-filled and hazy, hooded with pleasure. He radiates post-orgasmic bliss.

“Well, shit,” he chuckles at himself. He’s kind of embarrassed that he literally came in his pants by making out with his girlfriend, but for the most part he is just relieved that his balls aren’t bursting anymore. “Sorry, sunshine. I couldn’t– um, I couldn’t really control it.” He pushes himself up, feeling his own cum slowly against his thigh. “Are you okay?”

She nods, almost as if she’s in a trance. “I… want to do that again,” she whispers bashfully.

“Y’want to make me cum in m’pants again?” he asks with a soft, confused laugh.

“I-I just want to watch you… cum, again,” she hesitates around the word, feeling dirty and shy, despite how true the statement is. “Next time… next time, can I help?” she asks hopefully.

HIs eyes roll to the back of his head and he leans back down for a kiss.

“Y’gonna kill me, sunshine.”

+++

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#harry fic #harry smut #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fan fiction #harry writing

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lilystyles · 8 days

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part three of style, written by @lilystyles

my masterlist xx & style masterlist

authors note I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG??? UR SUPPORT HAS BEEN AMAZING I LOVE U ALL SM ALL UR ASKS R SO SWEET. LOVE U LOVE LOVE U. IM SORRYYYYYY UNI SUCKS RN!!! ENJOY ANGELS <3333333

brief description niall throws the party of the century, and harry gives y/n a gift.

warnings! slight age gap, smutty (daddy kink, romantic sex, m!receiving, f!receiving, steamy, dry humping) sexual tension, drugs and alcohol abuse, fratboys. (wordcount: 11k)

fratboy!older!bffsbrother!harry x younger!innocent!reader

* * * * *

Harry Styles, for what felt like the first time ever, was jealous.

It had now become obvious to Harry, that he is definitely a jealous person when he loves someone.

Which had never happened to him until her, he’d never cared enough to be jealous. He couldn’t care less normally, and he never really understood feeling possessive. It used to turn him off so much when someone was possessive over him, he hated the idea of being tied down and suffocated. His ex-girlfriends could and did cheat him and Harry didn’t care, he was young and wanted to have fun. He didn’t blame others for enjoying themselves. He moved on without the bat of an eye, and he never held grudges over it.

Life was about feeling good, having fun, and enjoying yourself. And before Y/n that meant mindless sex, parties, and smoking in pretty girls’ beds. He knew for a lot good girls that his past would be a major turn off, he honestly didn’t remember half the people he’d shagged, but he didn’t care. Life was a bunch of fleeting moments for him.

But lately, his feelings about possessiveness were different. His feelings for Y/n were all-consuming and so strong he didn’t know what to do with himself, he felt like his world was flipped upside down. He didn’t know how to ground himself, he felt like he was floating, and so far from his feet. When it came to Y/n he cared. A lot. Too much.

He found that even the way people were looking, just looking, at her right now was enough to have him clenching the can of beer in his hand. His fist tightly squeezed around it, imagining it was the jugular of whoever was walking in her direction that wasn’t him. And despite the fact he could understand people hitting on her because seriously she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing, that didn’t matter to him. Y/n owned every inch of him, and he felt like he’d made it clear she was belonged ot him too.

Harry found himself watching her intensely from across the room, eyes locked directly on her pretty little perfect figure. Which was unlike him normally he was off causing mischief and getting incredibly out of his mind drunk and high. Probably get a blowie outside by the pool.

But she was so striking, and he felt like he was in a trance. She stood out from the swarm of people like the brightest star in the sky, her h/c shined under the lights catching his attention immediately when he walked into the room. Y/n just looked so fucking gorgeous, like the embodiment of beauty, and everything Harry loved was embedded in her very being. He couldn’t have ripped his eyes away even if he’d wanted to.

If he had to describe her in one word right now, he’d say entrancing. She looked…well it took his breath away how beautiful she was. Harry always found Y/n very beautiful but tonight she looked especially scintillating. He wasn’t sure if it was her outfit or the fact his infatuation was growing by the second each day, but wow.

He wanted her so badly.

Her face was flushed from alcohol and the heat of the room, a soft pink that was similar to the shade of her lips, and a glisten of sweat coated her from the sweltering evening, making her look like an ethereal being that Harry adored. God, she was adorable. He could see her giggling, nose scrunching and all smiley. He couldn’t hear her, but he wished he could. She had the cutest laugh known to man.

And there it was, that itchy jealousy and annoying possessiveness rolling through his veins as he watched her laugh with another boy.

His green piercing eyes fell further down her figure. Her costume was fitting. The little dress she wore was very short, so short that the bottom of her plush ass was almost peeking out of it and Harry’s thoughts turned from wholesome to not-so. He’d never seen her wear that dress before, but if he had anything to do with it she wouldn’t even be wearing one and she’d been in his bed with the flimsy material on the floor. The material of her dress was almost a second skin, the silky white material left very little to the imagination except for where it puffed out at the bottom like a tutu. Her tits were round, the perfectful mouth for him to suckle on, nipples hard and obvious pressing against the satin material.

However, her luscious legs and smooth skin were the stars of the show tonight, Harry had been lucky enough to feel those wrapped around him, so he knew how soft they were. In that dress, her legs looked so long, the sight of her made his blood rush through him faster, almost like he was high. He’d only had one beer, so he didn’t know what had made him so dazed.

Harry wouldn’t be surprised if his prick was hard in his pants, he didn’t have it in him to feel ashamed. It got like that when he smelt her perfume on his clothes after being with her all day. Y/n had an unfathomable power and control over him, that she hadn’t even known she possessed. It didn’t take make much to get him budged up like that anymore, if Y/n crossed his mind then boom, just like that his prick was begging for his fist.

Harry kept watching her protectively. A few guys were leering close by, and he didn’t like it one bit. Instead of looking at the boys, he turned his attention back to the details of her dress. The top of it had puffy short sleeves that made her look adorable, and the neckline showed her perfect tits sitting comfortably and plump. That little necklace of her initial sitting between them, it sparkled under the dim light.

He bit his lip, and the beer in his hands was no longer enough to distract him. He licked his lips and calculated how he’d get her alone with him tonight. For once, Emma was sticking to her like glue. His sister normally found a way to disappear off and get herself sickly drunk, and with some lad. They had that in common, neither ever one to mingle unless it was for a shag or a spliff.

But not right now, no Emma stayed close by her side, talking to Zayn and a guy Harry thinks is called Liam. Harry’s jaw clicked, teeth clenching as he watched Liam’s eyes linger a moment too long at Y/n’s chest. His fist clenched by his side as he tried to breathe.

Shutting his eyes only for one second to remind himself to get his lungs working.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

As he repeated those two words in his mind, the only thing he could that he wanted to go in and out was his prick inside of her perfect sweet pussy. He wanted her pressed nice and close to him, he wanted to hold her, and press his cheek to her head and shut his eyes. Maybe then he’d be able to breathe normally. He certainly couldn’t from over here, and now as stood across the room he realised maybe all those girls sobbing hysterically with ice cream in their dorms over his frat brothers weren’t so crazy, and maybe those idiots who ran through airports weren’t really idiots. Just people madly, stupidly, overboard, in love.

This absolute possessive carnal caveman rage was something Harry hated because he knew it was stupid. But God the thought of anyone even looking at what was his pissed him off beyond the point of sanity. Y/n was a fucking beautiful little thing, she always had been, all innocent and soft, the kind of girl you wanted to scoop up into your arms and take care of.

And he wanted to do just that. He wanted to take care of her and keep all harm from her direction. He didn’t care if he was getting obsessive with his staring, he couldn’t stop.

He smiled at the little furry feathered halo that sat on her head, wings decorating the soft exposed skin on her back, and glittery cheeks that sparkled like magic under the pale blue lights of the room. She looked ethereal. His real-life angel and she was dressed the part too. Little fluffy white heels decorated her feet that he was sure would look better by his shoulders as he made her melt around him like he had every intention of doing.

He really was the devil for thinking that way. But that’s who he was, and her unforgettable sweet pussy had infiltrated his mind. He smirked silently to himself because he knew despite their total differences and things that got in the way of them, the world had made them for each other.

Moulding his hand to fit perfectly around hers. Like a sculpture with his clay, the world carved Harry just for her, and Y/n just for him. He was more sure of it than anything in the world.

Even if she didn’t know that yet, he was more than certain.

So Liam could just right fuck right off, that was his angel. Anyway, who comes as a basketball player when you already are one? How lame is that costume? Harry hadn’t worn his football clothes here and called it a costume. Even he wasn’t that bad.

Harry hadn’t tried as hard as Y/n had with his get-up. The only thing to give away his costume was the cheap plastic red horned headband hidden in his curls. He was in a pair of black jeans, and a black t-shirt, nothing special. He didn’t fancy costumes all that much. But he thought that Lucifer likely didn’t give a fuck about his outfit, at least that’s what he’d told Niall when the bloke almost didn’t let him inside due to his very shitty costume.

Y/n hadn’t noticed Harry yet, despite his icy green eyes boring into her skin for the past twenty or so minutes. He’d been lurking in a corner away from her sight. But when Emma left with Zayn to who knows or who cares where, he made his way over quicker than a blink of an eye. Liam noticed him first, and Y/n felt a warmth radiating near her back which made her spine shudder.

Must be Styles. She thought but didn’t turn, waiting for him to speak first.

“Oh hey, Mate.” Said Liam offering a wave. Liam and her had a physics class together and she was complaining to him about the professor and how she was pretty certain she was going to fail the class.

Harry’s chest pressed into her side and she finally turned, smiling up at him. A soft delicate one that made Harry’s lungs finally kick back into working like normal. Heart beating fast, as he thought to himself, oh there you are heart.

Being with Y/n was like realising he’d spent his whole life without oxygen but now he had air.

“Hi.” He said curtly to Liam, moving his eyes to Y/n’s precious ones, and he could feel Liam watching them. She really had no idea how badly every man in this room wanted her. How didn’t she notice the staring? The whispers? How did she seem so calm when she was like a baby lamb in a room full of wolves?

“Can you come and help me with something please, Trouble? Niall asked after us.” He asked leaning down close so his mouth shadowed her ear. He was lying, but he wanted her alone, and Emma wouldn’t notice. She was already incredibly drunk and he knew that because she was already dancing on a table in the dining room.

Y/n nodded squeaking out a soft sure, and she slid her palm around his bicep, thoughtlessly and instinctively. When they went off campus, and spent time together they always held each other close.

His body was so warm and welcoming, she was used to being close to him now. He brought her so much comfort, and Harry felt smug at the way Liam’s face dropped at the sight.

Yeah, suck it, stupid basketball player. He thought. Butterflies fluttering through his tummy at the feel of her hand on his arm.

Y/n hardly had a chance to wave goodbye to Liam before Harry had dragged her away hands melting into her skin. Everything with him felt so natural. Their physicalness was normal now, and she hardly noticed it as much as that first night. It felt routine and safe, and she loved it. He never did that with anyone except her, which made her heart flutter in a strange off-beat rhythm.

Despite having always been a sexual creature, he wasn’t touchy with people he slept with outside the bedroom. He wasn’t the type. But he honestly couldn’t keep his hands off Y/n.

He guided her upstairs leading her into a random room, and shutting the door behind them. It was a fairly clean room, and Y/n soon recognised it was Niall’s. She guessed by the rainbow flag hung up by his posters, and of course, the biggest sign was an Ariana Grande poster. He fancied the pants off her, and would always play her songs in the car. If they went to karaoke which sometimes they did, Niall always without a shadow of a doubt sang Ariana. Despite the fact his throat could not at all easily sing that high-pitched.

She walked over to sit on the edge of the bed, her dress riding up ever so slightly at the movement. Niall had these pale dusty blue sheets and they smelt like citrus and wood on the bed. She never came into his room, or even to the frat house because, well, it’s a frat house.

Harry walked over to her towering over her, cutting her thoughts of their best friend from her mind. His hand moved to touch her cheek, the curve of her skin was searing hot and Harry could feel her melt into his hand.

“Hi, Styles,” She whispered shyly, lips moving as slow as molasses dripping off a spoon. He knew for a fact she tasted just as sweet too.

He smirked down at her, God he wanted to just eat her right up. She was looking up at him all doe-eyed, her little hand creeping underneath his shirt. She was so cute, so fucking adorable. He could feel the gentle caress of her nails against his hip and he felt his skin pimple in goosebumps.

“Hi, Baby.” He replied, moving to sit down beside her. His large, muscled, thigh pressed into hers emitting a warmth she welcomed. Her hands fell into her lap now as she watched him through hooded eyes.

She blushed some more, “What does Niall need our help with in here?”

Harry laughed and it bellowed out, as he placed a soft hand on her knee. Her skin was soft like butter, and he rubbed her knee tenderly. She was perfect, in every sense of the bloody word.

“Nothing, I just wanted you to myself, Trouble.”

She giggled, and it made Harry’s chest swell. He loved her. He loved her so much.

“Oh I see,” She said, her hand landing on his. He slowly dragged his hand further up her leg and couldn’t wipe the smile off his face for the life of him.

“You look fucking beautiful, by the way,” He whispered, squeezing her thigh.

She smiled brightly, and she leaned over to smear a quick kiss on his jaw. “Aw, thanks Styles, I went all out because I knew Niall would have my ass if I didn’t dress ‘properly’.”

Harry laughed, tipping his head back. “Well, I’m certainly enjoying you like this. You look…Jesus Y/n, I mean, are you trying to kill me? You really are trouble, aren’t you gorgeous girl?”

She pouted at him leaning in closer, he could smell her perfume and shampoo so heavily now and he was intoxicated by it. Y/n smelt so good, and the scent of her grounded him. He wanted to keep her right here all night, and maybe he would if he was lucky. Y/n didn’t seem to be in a rush to leave their little bubble.

And she knew Emma was very distracted with Zayn, they were still going out. But honestly, Y/n didn’t suspect they’d last much longer, she could already sense her best friend’s restlessness. It wasn’t anything that Y/n judged, but Emma never stayed with a boy longer than a month. She used to think it was a Styles thing, but Harry hadn’t been with anyone else in months, not since that night they shared.

“Am not.” She said, faking petulance. He leaned down close enough that his lips just grazed hers, and she wanted so badly to join their lips. But she didn’t know if that was what he wanted, so she just waited.

“You so are.” He replied.

She leaned into his neck with a sigh, he smelt like always; mint, tobacco, vanilla, and something undeniably Harry. He was intoxicating and the drink she’d had made her blood rush with a want that thumped so intensely. She wanted Harry, so badly, and her control was wilting away with each second that passed.

The devil had a magic spell on the angel.

“Can I kiss you, Trouble?” He asked softly, pushing a strand of loose hair behind her ear. He noticed a pair of dangly pearl earrings and untangled the hair from them.

Y/n was amazed by how soft and gentle he was with her. She’d imagined him to be a lot cooler, icy, and most of the time he played the part brilliantly. Before that night in the kitchen, all Harry had been was a cold-hearted frat boy who she thought was sexy. Because that’s all he pretended to be around her before this.

She hadn’t known hiding underneath the cool exterior was a warmth more scorching than the sun.

She giggled at him, eyes shutting for a second, before open to see him smiling back at her. “Do you even have to ask that? Isn’t it obvious I’m dying to kiss you, Styles?”

He rolled his eyes, smirk growing even bigger. “C’mere.”

She shifted closer swinging both her legs over his lap and scooting so close their chests pressed together. She felt her heart speed up at the thought of their lips becoming one. Harry was the one to lean down and connect their lips together in a soft gentle greeting. She tasted like rum and peaches, and he sighed at the taste. He’d wanted to do that all night, and he was relieved to have finally fulfilled his wish. Her soft hands had found their way onto his cheeks, and his hand landed on her waist to keep her nice and snug against him.

It wasn’t long until the little breathy sounds she was making had him needy for her, his tummy curled in desire. And in a hurry of want, he pulled her onto his lap properly and she squealed quietly. Laughing against her lips, he smiled. Pulling away to whisper, “I missed you, so much.”

She rolled her eyes. “You saw me like an hour ago.”

She saw him before they arrived. Having got ready at Emma’s, he’d seen her before she was dressed and left for the party. He snuck a quick peck on her lips while Emma was in the shower before he left. The sneaking around was getting more bold, and Y/n knew she should tell Emma soon but she just didn’t know how.

Plus what were they? She could hardly say ‘Hey Em been shagging your brother for a bit.’

Harry shrugged at her words. “I don’t care, I miss you the second you’re gone.”

Her lips landed on his cheek, leaving a kiss print of pink and she giggled, thumb coming up to wipe it off.

“Oops.” She giggled.

“What, you didn’t miss me, Baby?” He whispered, tone all sultry, it made her stomach curl viciously. He seriously would be the death of her. She should’ve known from the minute she met him it would be.

“Obviously. Now kiss me like you mean all that sap,” She ordered him, and there was no need to tell him twice. He kissed her again, tongue sliding into her mouth to swirl against hers. His lips moulded perfectly into hers as his hands slid up under her dress gliding over the soft skin of her bum. The tiniest underwear she owned covered her and he felt the lace under his palm, which pulled a groan from out of him as Y/n shifted herself against his hips unconsciously. She moaned softly at the feeling of his stiff cock digging into her knickers, one of her hands balling his shirt up in her hand.

He squeezed her ass tightly and pulled back for a breath to leave kisses along her jaw and neck. Nipping at the skin below her ear, he whispered to her softly. “Such a good girl, Y/n.”

She sighed at the feeling, eyes fluttering closed and mouth open slightly. She couldn’t help it, Harry was just so warm, so inviting, that she felt herself melting against his firm chest. She’d been so needy without him, and the pep talk she’d given herself before tonight had gone out the window as soon as she’d seen him.

They hadn’t been together in so long, and she’d gotten herself off this morning but it wasn’t the same without Harry there. She’d been wishing it was him the whole time.

“You’re mouth is criminal, Styles. Could get me to do anything.” She admitted softly finger running along his bottom lip. It was all pink and wet from her mouth, and she briefly remembered the feeling of him sucking on her clit, fighting the urge to stop her eyes from rolling back into her head at the memory.

He looked up quickly, meeting her eyes.

“Anything?” He asked mischievously.

She shrugged leaning down to plant a quick kiss against his swollen lips, “Probably.”

He laughed at that and trapped her into another kiss. They were growing more heated and passionate, her hips grazing against him ever so slightly, as gentle moans left her mouth. Harry swallowed each sound and let her use him for friction, the dull ache in his balls subsided a little less when she did it. He honestly thought he could cum his pants from it if she just went a little bit harder, for a little bit longer.

His hands gripped her a bit harder and pushed her more firmly against him, and the feel of her warmth against him grew stronger. He guessed that by now she was probably wet, and the thought made his cock twitch. Her pussy filled his daydreams, and his mouth salivated at the thought.

She whined into his mouth and whispered a swear against him. His large hand rubbed a circle on her bum, and he decided that this must be heaven. A pretty angel with Y/n’s form was here with him, and sitting right up against his stiffy. That was his idea of heaven.

His hands hidden under the dress, smooth skin under his palms, his hand could barely feel any fabric he knew just how tiny the sorry excuse of knickers she was wearing was, and this only riled him up more. She was so fucking hot. Sexiest little thing.

As she began to grow more needy for a release the feel of his rough jeans combined with the thin lace knickers she was wearing rubbing against her clit, she thought she could cum from this. The prickling heat had started to spark up her spine and she moaned at the bulge of his cock pressing into her. He began to kiss down her neck again and along her chest, and she felt her pleasure growing in her tummy.

Suddenly feeling close, she pushed his shoulders down so that he was lying on his back, and he smirked at the way she grew more needy for it. He loved seeing her use him to get herself off, he didn’t mind letting her be in charge every once in a while. She rested her cheek against his shoulder as she moved her hips in long but hard motions. All rough, and desperate, and Harry loved to see her so riled up. God, she was so perfect. They hadn’t properly seen each other since that night after her terrible date with Peter, and he was growing tired of fisting his cock in the shower. It didn’t compare to the real deal.

Not to mention he just missed talking to her and being with her, and even if the only thing to happen tonight was for her to get off on his leg while he kissed her pretty little mouth, he’d be completely happy with that.

With Y/n he would do just about anything because, well, it was with her.

Eventually, she whispered a soft, “I’m close,” in his ear.

Harry shifted his hips to move with hers “Cum for me angel,” He whispered into her ear. And just as she was about to cum the door swung up and her movements halted. Harry was about to shout a quick ‘fuck off’ because it was probably a drunk person looking for the loo, but the voice that met their ears wasn’t a stranger.

Oh shit.

“Y/n? Is that a- is that a Harry under you?” Asked the drunken voice of Niall. His voice was slightly slurring, and the gasp he’d let out made them know for sure who it was.

He could see the familiar tattooed arms wrapped around her which made him immediately know it was Harry and underneath the fluffy material of her dress he saw a flash of pink knickers and that mermaid tattoo Niall actually went with him when he got done, caught his attention, as he let out a loud yelp.

Honestly, he’d never date either of them. But the bisexual side of him was slightly aroused. They were hot, and together? God. Just delicious.

Y/n winced and shut her eyes, sitting up, “Uh…no??”

Harry laughed at her attempt to lie and she hit his chest. “Shh! Shut up, Styles!”

Niall shut the door walking inside further, uncaring of the position they were in, and the fact he could see Harry’s stiffy pressing up into Y/n’s thigh.

“What the fuck?” He said, and they could hear the betrayal in his tone. Normally Harry told him everyone he slept with and always stayed in the loop, even if it was a simple statement like he hooked up with blah at blah he always told him. And Y/n told him everything too, mostly, or at least he thought she did.

Y/n sat up sliding off Harry who sat up, stiff cock still standing tall, and his balls aching. Sitting beside him, Y/n hung her head, like a child ready for scolding.

“We wanted to tell you, mate,” He started, lifting his hands up to run through his hair and chucking the plastic red horns onto the bed, as he shifted on the bed.

Niall placed a hand to his chest mouth parted open like a fish. His long sheet turned toga covering very little of his muscled chest as he squeezed the flesh there.

“I’m like so betrayed bitches, why didn’t you tell me? Did this just happen? Is this new? What on earth is going on?”

Y/n laughed at his bombard of questions, he obviously wasn’t too cross with them which relieved the tightness in her chest.

She didn’t look at Harry when she spoke, instead playing with her fingers in her lap and fidgeting, “We haven’t told anyone…it’s well, I’m not sure exactly what is, Ni.”

Harry looked up at her statement and rolled his eyes. “I am, I fancy the fuck out of you, Trouble. We just haven’t told anyone because Emma would lose it. Remember when I got with Y/n’s old roommate that redhead I forget her name, and Emma shunned her from the group?”

Niall nodded, mulling things over. “Right, yeah. She wasn’t happy about that. Which is sad, I liked that girl, great tits.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and wanted to laugh, clearly, they didn’t like her that much if they couldn’t remember her name.

Y/n stood up. “Ni, I know you’re in shock and offended we didn’t tell you. Which is so fair, but Em doesn’t know yet, and she will kill me. Seriously murder me, especially if she finds out from someone who isn’t me. So you can’t tell a soul.”

He looked down at her and nodded. “Of course, I won’t tell anyone, just Benny.”

Benny was his cat, a fat ginger tabby, who was an old thing that Y/n found hiding behind his car one afternoon. Turns out he was abandoned, back then he’d been a thin little thing, but now Niall fed him up probably too much.

Y/n hugged him, and Niall’s hands slid down to her waist. “Thank you, mate,”

He just nodded, and let out a breath.

“Okay, I’m gonna grab some spliff from in here,” He rustled around, “then you can get back to it. Just don’t spunk all over my bed kids, and if you need a cum rag still one from next door, Jimbo keeps stealing my spliff so,” He said walking over to his shelf and grabbing a tin box full of weed, and his monkey bong from beside his telly.

He shut the door with a hushed bye, and then Y/n finally looked at Harry to see he was already staring up at her from his seat on the edge of the bed. Still standing up, anxiety fluttering her tummy.

“So you fancy me, huh?” She said teasingly with a smile, her lipstick was smudged and he could taste her peach-flavoured lipgloss on his lips still, he licked them in thought.

They hadn’t really discussed much about their relationship. But she was fairly certain he liked her. And she could tell he got jealous, that was obvious. But the sudden change from being the brooding older brother of her best friend, who constantly treated her like a ghost, and teased her about her behaviour to this. This intense, honest, and obsessed boy. It was like whiplash.

All those years? What had changed him in these few weeks?

She would probably always fancy him even if nothing ever comes from this, a piece of her will always belong to him, does he know that? She always felt like she was more transparent than he was.

But right now, just his eyes were a giveaway of his feelings.

The normally stoic, and cold, gaze was suddenly soft and molten. Even though only a few minutes before they’d been seconds away from getting off and kissing, now it was a soft cosy little bubble.

She was suddenly overwhelmed with a memory. When she was a kid and she’d go to her grandparent’s house she’d find herself sitting in their attic, which they’d turned a library nook which had a big window seat that caused the carpet to get all sun-soaked around noon and she’d flick through dozens of photo albums of her grandparents. The couple had grown up together as neighbours, and been in love since they were five years old.

Her grandparents were still so in love to this day, and her grandma always said you can tell by someone’s eyes if their feelings are true. Y/n’s grandfather’s eyes never turned hard around his wife, and Y/n always took notice. The strong, tall, soldier, was an absoloute sap for her.

Y/n had always hoped one day, she would find a love timeless and comfortable like theirs. Which is probably why she’d never gotten into many casual things, and was against that, she just always hoped one day Harry’s eyes would be like that but now that it was happening she almost couldn’t believe it.

Can people lie with their eyes like they can with their mouth? Can Harry?

He nodded. “Isn’t that very obvious, gorgeous?”

She sat down next to him, and she could feel the steamy moment blossoming into something more intimate and soft. She shrugged and looked down at the hands on his lap, and said nervously, “I don’t know,”

He pouted and slid his hand onto her knee. “We can’t have that,”

She looked up at him, her confidence melting away. She felt fourteen all over again, watching Harry pine over other girls and crying when she got home that he didn’t fancy her. Trying to dress more maturely and act like the girls he’d fancied the next day only to go unnoticed. Praying the red bikini she bought that was pretty skimpy for fifteen would catch his gaze when they had a pool party, only for him to makeout with some girl in front of her.

She could admit her crush on him was embarrassing to look back on, but when she got older a few years down the track she’d grown to accept it wasn’t supposed to be and decided she wouldn’t try to change to be perfect for him. Because in reality that isn’t what Harry went for anyway.

She couldn’t help but feel fourteen and insecure again. Why did he all of a sudden feel into her?

“Well, y’cant blame me. You hook up with a lot of girls H, and that’s okay, but you know I’m not very experienced. I just- I like you. I always have. But what makes what we are doing different from Jenny, the redheaded roommate from first year.” She said, and his eyes pinched with a prickle of sadness.

He had no idea Y/n still felt this way, after the past few weeks he was certain she’d always secretly known how much he liked her. He thought his affection for her was so bloody obvious but clearly she’d never picked up on that.

He sighed, “I used to get with a lot of people, Trouble. Used to, I don’t want too anymore. Not after the night we shared.” He started, licking his lips and leaning closer. “And you are different from everyone I’ve ever slept with because I actually want more than that…I love having sex with you, Princess, but I also love talking to you, I love being with you, and you are the most lovely person I have ever met.”

Y/n felt the air disappear from her lungs. “You’re special, and I wish I would’ve done something about it sooner instead of wasting our time.”

She smiled, one that hurt her cheeks. She felt them grow rosy as he continued talking.

“And fuck, you drive me crazy. But I miss you the minute you leave, and you are the only person I have ever wanted. Even when were kids. I don’t know how you never noticed, Y/n, but it’s probably because I’m such a tit sometimes. I never made things easy on you, and I’m sorry.”

The validation and shock were overwhelming to Y/n.

Her heart practically stopped.

He’d liked her too?

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.

Her heart skipped a few beats in her chest, and she felt herself trying to process his confession.

He’d liked her too? All this time he’d liked her too? What the fuck.

“I may have always been a total dick, but I’ve always fancied you. Ever since I could remember. If Emma wasn’t an issue I would already have told everyone that I fancy the fuck out of you, including you.” He said, lifting a finger to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, “I would’ve tried to get with you years ago, but the idea of not having you at all was what stopped me.”

He paused, swallowing as he watched her stay silent, and listen. “If I could change the way we started this I would’ve done it properly. Asked you out somewhere nice, worn my best, all of it. But I didn’t expect for us to happen.”

He sighed, “And I didn’t want to have to make you choose between me or her, like I know Em will probably make you, and I’ve been selfish letting myself have you these past few months. But fuck, I just have no control when it comes to you,”

Y/n blinked slowly. Because holy fuck. He liked her back, he always had, and he would’ve been with her sooner if not for the obstacle of her best friend. She couldn’t believe it. She really was sure she must be dreaming and had to stop herself from pinching her skin.

Her lips curved in a smirk, and she put her hand on his hand that was resting on her knee and said. “So, what exactly does that make us, Styles?”

He smiled and for what felt like the first Y/n thought Harry looked nervous. He lifted his free hand to scratch the back of his neck, cheeks dusted in a rosy hue as he tried to get the words out.

“If you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

She giggled and he felt nervous while he waited for her response.

“Mine?” She asked, liking the way it rolled off her tongue, her long lashes fluttering as she looked up at him.

He nodded once again, and she leaned close nose brushing his, and kissed him. As a soft ‘okay’ slipped past her lips he wrapped his arms around her back and smiled pulling apart from her lips for just a moment.

Excitement rushed through him, as his heart raced. She was looking right back at him, and he felt blissfully happy.

“Okay?!” He asked, unable to hide his relief and surprise.

She laughed tossing her head back, “Yes, Styles.”

He pulled her into a tight hug and she couldn’t stop smiling against his chest, he smelled so good. When he pulled her back at arm’s length once more he looked at her, eyes scanning the plane of her beautiful face. The dim lighting didn’t offer much but he already had every detail of her face memorised.

“Y’do know this makes you my girlfriend, right?” He said, once again checking she knew what she’d just agreed to.

She nodded laughing, and sliding her hands up under his shirt by his hips. “Yes, I’m aware, boyfriend.”

This made him kiss her again and her hands moved to his back as he rolled them over, his chest pressing into her as she melted into the plush bed. He kissed her desperately, leaving them both no chance to breathe. As her legs split open for him to rest on top of her, she felt something hard press into her. Not his prick, no it was in his pocket, how come she hadn’t noticed before when she was sitting on him?

She touched it with her hand, and Harry took notice, pulling back gently as his ragged breath fanned her flushed face.

“Sorry, Trouble.” He whispered breathily, as he dug around in his pocket, sitting up on his knees as Y/n leaned back on her arms watching him.

In his hand was a little black box, it was velvet and she wondered what on earth he had in there. She frowned, eyebrows pinching confusedly, as she watched him hesitate to open it or explain.

Rather than speaking, he opened the box finding inside a sparkling gold necklace. It glittered under the fairy lights Niall had on his headboard. She squinted sitting up straighter, slightly dizzy from it all.

A soft giggle erupted from her lips, and she felt her smile grow wider. Her dainty hand reached out to graze it.

This boy really was full of surprises. “I just- I thought we’d talk tonight so….”

A little golden H on a chain glittered the box, and she felt eagerness bubble in her tummy. Flowing through her veins, as she smirked at him, and bit her lip, “I thought you were joking when you said all those things.”

That night after he’d picked her up from that horrible blind date, and they’d shared a long night together. She thought his jealousy, and possessiveness was laced into his sexual fantasies. Not real jealousy. Because since when was Harry one to care about anything when it came to girls, other than getting his cock wet?

He only smiled, a wicked look coming across his features, God, he really was so bloody devilishly handsome.

“I don’t joke about what belongs to me, Y/n,” His voice drawled softly, and her stomach curled. The way he was looking at her was enough to rile her up all over again.

She moved one of her hands to slide up along his arm, her pink long nails scratching the inked skin softly as she lifted his wrist to her chest and pressed a kiss on his knuckles softly. His breath hitched at the sight of her.

She was so adorable.

Y/n gradually brought his palm to her neck, and his fingers gently slid around her throat and she bit her lip.

“Take this off,” She sighed.

He knew she was referring to her initial around her neck, and his cock twitched. Fuck, for an innocent little angel, she knew his game.

His fingers found the clasp and took the necklace off. It was dainty in his hands and what she did next surprised him. Grabbing the necklace from his palm she sat up a bit more on the bed and slid it around his neck, the chain was still warm from her neck, but he shivered as she touched him anyway.

She clasped it on, and it dangled alongside the cross his mother had given him. It was so dainty, you’d hardly notice it. She liked the idea of her initial constantly hanging there beside the cross. He never took the cross off, not even in the shower. Her finger lined them up perfectly, the cross was slightly longer and she made sure they weren’t tangled.

He leaned down now, almost face to face.

“Now everyone gets t’know what’s mine too, don’t they, Harry?” She whispered and licked her lips at the way the chains dangled down near her forehead.

He smirked down at her, dimples popping. “Yes, Angel, they do.”

She grabbed the necklace from the box and handed it to him. “Put mine on, Styles.”

He obeyed and put the necklace on, the cool chain made goosebumps pimple her skin. It dipped just above the swell of her tits, and he smiled at the sight. His perfect little angel, marked under his name.

“Gorgeous little thing.” He whispered and put the box on the bedside table.

Y/n grabbed his shoulders bringing him back down, he captured her lips against his and they kissed. It was all tongues, teeth, and a mess of noses bumping each other. A feverish kiss, full of a searing heat that had been waiting to burst for a few weeks now.

Y/n’s soft legs wrapped around him, the heels of her shoes digging into his bum as she pressed her heat closer to his once again stiff prick, as he moved his mouth down along her jaw and neck. Slowly spreading his kisses to her chest, and once he got to the H necklace he smirked to himself. He had to be dreaming.

His hands found the zipper of her dress and began to tug the fluffy sleeves down, which revealed her bare chest. Her nipples hardened as his hands grazed them, rough and calloused fingers teasing her nipples, and he moaned, at the feel of her, before latching his lips around one of them.

His filthy, fast, searing hot tongue glided along her. He looked up to see her reaction and the breathless, blushed face made him jut his hips into the bed. God, he wanted her.

“Naughty lil’ thing,” He whispered, looking up at her as he began to leave marks along her chest. Her hands fell to his hair and tugged on the mess of curls, playing with the hair distractedly.

“Tiny knickers, no bra, all for who, Baby?” He tsked her, looking up to see her expressions but her eyes had shut, and she was sighing softly. She looked off in her own world.

“You,” She keened, eyes opening only to find that green already staring right back at her.

He smiled at that and planted another kiss on her lips before moving down the bed, shifting so that he was kneeling on the floor as he tugged up the fluffy skirt hem, and put his face between her thighs. Kissing, sucking, and nipping on her soft skin. She moaned at the feeling of him, and the drink she’d had made her loose-lipped and slightly louder than she normally would be in a bedroom at a party hiding from her best mate.

She knew they shouldn’t be doing this, but they were together now, she could hardly leave this conversation without celebrating.

His nose brushed against her knickers, and her hips jolted up in his face. He smirked against her and his big, strong, ring-covered hands pushed her hips flat on the bed as he looked up at her. “That’s right, Trouble, all f’me. Only f’me. Sucha’ good girl.”

One of his hands moved to her knickers and pushed the thin string aside, revealing her gorgeous dripping pussy. His mouth practically watered at the sight, ever since the night he had a chance to taste her it was something that had overtaken his fantasies when he fisted his cock, he loved being between her legs and it was all he could think about most nights before bed.

When he began kissing her clit, she knew it was going to be hard to pull him away. His tongue darted out along into her hole, and he started licking into her desperately, as her legs fell over his shoulders and she let out a soft cry.

“Mm, fuck, Daddy,” She moaned, and her hands fell into his hair as she began to tug on it in gratitude. Her long nails scratched his scalp, and he moaned against her clit causing her legs to squeeze against his head in pleasure.

One of his hands moved up to her thigh and he pushed it backward, giving him a better view of her. With his other hand, he moved his fingers up to her lips and tapped against her bottom lip. She knew he wanted her to suck on them, and did so happily. They muffled her moans as he continued hungrily licking up all the slick dripping out of her needy little pussy.

He could feel her tongue swirling around his fingers and his cock jealously throbbed in his pants. He was happy with how dripping in her saliva his fingers had become and he brought his hand back down to join his tongue. With his middle finger, he slowly started teasing her weeping hole, and she let out a harsh cry.

“Please,” She begged desperately and tugged on his hair.

He pulled back, lips covered in slick all plump and pink. “I know, Princess, I know,”

And just like that his fingers slipped inside her, filling her up so that she felt nice and snug with him. His lips moved to her clit and he began sucking firmly, this caused her spine to spark with the familiar feeling of her orgasm rising. Her tummy was rolling in waves of pleasure, and her clit was throbbing against his warm wet tongue.

“Daddy, fuck,” She cried, and each breath she let out was a whimper. All desperate, as she clawed his arms and hair, so ready for him to be inside her. So ready to cum. So close.

She felt so fucking good. His mouth was like heaven and she felt the high she’d been chasing for weeks close enough that she could almost taste it. The way he was lapping her pussy up like a hungry feral animal. His fingers were long and thick, but nothing compared to his gorgeous prick. They were curling inside her and she could feel him hitting that spongy spot that made her toes curl.

He noticed her thighs begin to shake and the especially loud gasp she let out when he hit that spot. Continuing his merciless and hard pace he was certain she’d be coming undone soon. His tongue sped up, growing more sloppy and hungry for her orgasm to melt onto his tongue. His free hand squeezed the soft flesh of her thigh, as it shook uncontrollably underneath.

The animalistic needy way he was licking into her was almost like a beast and its prey. He’d lost all sense of his surroundings, where he was, and what was happening outside of this room, all his focus was on Y/n. Her sweet, tangy, taste, the sounds of her whimpers which went straight to his throbbing cock, and the feel of her skin under his hands, the slick coating his tongue.

Her.

When Y/n came for him, it wasn’t gentle and quiet like they’d planned. No, her hands clawed at the soft cotton bedsheets as her back arched up uncontrollably. A loud long cry of Harry’s name fell from her swollen lips, as her pussy throbbed and waves of pleasure washed over her. Her body shuddered and his tongue hadn’t stopped until he’d licked up all the slick off her, and she pushed his head back with a shiver.

“Sensitive,” She whispered.

He smiled at her. “You’re so fucking beautiful,”

She blushed, and pulled him up closer to her, trapping him in a long loving kiss. She could taste herself on his lips but didn’t have it in herself to care. His hands caressed the curve of her body as she rolled on top of him.

His firm cock was digging into her hip as she kissed him, in no particular hurry at all, and her hand found its way to his jean button. Popping it open and sliding her small, warm, hand into his briefs. She could feel how hard he was and pulled him out. He sprung up against his tummy, and Y/n began to stroke him softly and slowly. The reddened tip of his cock was drooling in beads of precum.

Her lips still smearing against his, as his tummy curled in desire. The sleeves of her dress had fallen down, and she looked all messy from having cum just a few seconds before. She was so beautiful.

As she moved down the bed. Her legs bracketed his and she rested her cheek on his hip bone, lips pouty as she looked up at him. Her hand was still holding the base of him, as smiled. A shadow of him cast over her innocent looking face.

“You have sucha’ pretty cock, Daddy,” She whispered, eyes mesmerised by the sight. And she wasn’t lying, he really did have such a pretty cock. The prettiest.

“All yours, Princess,” He said softly, and despite the fact his hard massive prick was out, the way he spoke was so tender and gentle.

“Can I suck you off?”

He nodded. “Course y’can, Angel, go ahead.”

She rested between his legs with her bum arched up as she leaned down to swallow him in her mouth. Her saliva dripped down along his shaft, as he watched her take him in her mouth. He hardly fit, so she used her hands too, and each time she dared to go deeper her throat gagged around him. Coughing and spluttering, as she attempted to suck him off.

She tried for a few more minutes, unable to get the fast deep pace she wanted. Harry wanted to laugh at her attempts, she was so adorable trying to fit his huge cock inside her little mouth. He didn’t mind watching her pathetic attempts to deep-throat him.

She pulled off for a second, a string of drool connecting them, “Can y’help me make it fit, Daddy?”

He nodded, hand coming to stroke her cheek, “Just tap my thigh if it’s too much, Baby,”

She nodded before moving back down to wrap her lips around a third of him, she could feel his tip hitting her throat already. Her slick spit had dripped all the way down to his balls and her free hand moved to gently massage them.

He moaned. “Fuck, good girl,”

His hips slowly moved up into her mouth, and she choked on him without pulling away, his pace began to become more regular as she let him fuck her mouth.

“Daddy’s good girl, aren’t you?”

She made a noise his cock, and he just pushed himself deeper, hands moving to hold her hair in a loose ponytail in his fist, “What was that, sweet girl?”

He teased, as she tried to mumble a yes, despite the fact her mouth was stuffed full of him. He laughed sadistically, tossing his head back as he let out a deep rumble of a groan.

His hips speed up desperately as he feels orgasm feels closer. “So fuckin’ good, Y/n, fuck,”

Her hands massaging his balls, and the base of his cock that couldn’t fit, along with her warm, wet, hot, little throat made Harry certain he’d only last a few more minutes. His rhythm grew more sloppy, as he watched Y/n take him. Her eyes were crying with tears from his rough pace, and she was squeezing her thighs together at the noises he was making.

His cock disappearing into her, was enough to have him hissing and whimpering. “Oh, fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me cum, such a good girl f’me.”

He pushed her head down a few more times, listening to the way her mouth made sloppy noises around him, and he let out a deep guttural moan as he felt his cum start to leak out into her throat. His throat rumbled gravelly moans as his hips lifted up into her throat. Holding her head there to take all of his cum, before finally pulling her off.

She let in some deep ragged breaths, mascara running down her face, and his cum dribbling from her chin. There had been so much of it, that she was almost jealous he hadn’t spilled it inside her. She shut her eyes and let her lungs finally have some air again. She’d gotten dizzy around him.

Her tongue darted out to collect the cum that had split, as she drooped to rest her head against his thigh again. His hands moved to her back and rubbed some soft scratches along her shoulder blades.

“You okay, Trouble?”

She nodded looking up with her glassy eyes, and glossy-coated lips, “Did I do alright, Styles?”

His brows pinched and he shook his head at her question, grabbing her so they were face to face, “You are the most beautiful girl in the world, and your mouth, was made for my cock,”

She sat up and pulled him in for a kiss. A soft one, slow, and comfortable. As he rubbed her exposed skin. She was so warm, silky, and supple under his palms. He wished to stay like this always.

He eventually turned her so that she was on her side, one of his legs between her two plump thighs, and they continued to kiss. His kisses travelled to her shoulder and neck as she played with his hair.

She whispered softly in his hair, which smelt like his shampoo, a chestnut-scented one. “I want you, Harry, please,”

And if Harry thought he’d been really needy before, he was sorely mistaken, because seeing his messy-looking girlfriend begging for him to fuck her, had him only thinking of him stuffing her full until she cums for him, over and over and over. His cock had already hardened once more and he rolled on top of her.

“Okay, my love,” He said softly, as he kissed her forehead, lips meeting again in a kiss.

Her soft hands moved up under his shirt squeezing his hips, soon tugging on the hem until Harry realised she wanted it off. They parted their lips breathlessly as he pulled the shirt up over him, muscles flexing as he threw it somewhere they didn’t care to look. She smirked against the curve of his shoulder as he moved back on top of her, and her hands stroked the rippling muscles of his skin, finding a home on his back.

They were too desperate to get all their clothes off, but Harry had tugged down the top of her dress, fluffy sleeves hanging on her arms lopsidedly, revealing her beautiful chest which had marks already blooming from his previous bites, and he’d bunched her dress up around her hips. The plumes of the skirt of her dress hid her wet little pussy from them both, but he could feel her. He slipped his hand down between her thighs and shoved the thin string that was her knickers to the side so he could slip his prick inside of her with ease.

He looked up at her. She was biting her lip, eyes shut, a look of complete desire on her face. Waiting for him.

“You okay, Trouble? Ready f’me?” He asked her, the tip of him teasing her. Pressing into her swollen clit as her hips squirmed at the attention of him. She was about ready to cry over how much she wanted it.

“Yes, please, Daddy, want you.” She said in a desperate tone, she almost looked in pain over it. He leaned down to kiss her temple before he slowly guided himself inside her. Inch by inch she felt herself split open for him, a familiar sting washing over her like always because of his absolutely ridiculously large prick.

When he reached the hilt of her and had stuffed her as full as he could he leaned back down, arms hugging her close to him, chests pressing together as his head fell into the crook of her shoulder. Her arms had moved to his back, long nails already digging into his skin.

“Fuck,” He whispered. As she moaned at the feeling of him. A soft cry, that had his balls aching for release.

She was breathless from the feeling of being full of him.

When she eventually told him he could move he began to, at a hard but slow pace. Each thrust hit her so hard she let out the loudest noise she ever had. Her pouty lips formed an O shape as she clung to him tightly, trying to stay still despite how sensitive she felt. He was groaning against her shoulder and neck, and the tightness of her pussy had him shaking. She was so warm, and tight, and god. So perfect.

Her mouth was by his arm and she kissed the soft skin, as he began to speed up. The pair of them both getting more and more desperate for their release. She could tell because his thrusts were growing more sloppy, and less calculated. Her hand slid between where they joined, and she began to rub firm lazy circles on her swollen bud. It wasn’t long before she unravelled on his cock, he could feel the way she squeezed him, and soaked his prick, as she cried out his name.

“M’cumming, H, please,” She didn’t know what exactly it was she was begging for. But he seemed too.

He kissed her lips, a gentle peck, “I know, Baby, let me take care of you,” He whimpered, he was trying to help her through it without cumming himself.

Her nails scratched into his back, harshly, as he hissed in pain and pleasure. She nodded, letting him help her through the intense feeling of her orgasm. His cock was so deep, she felt like she wanted to cry.

“Thas’ it, m’love, such a pretty little angel, f’me,” He praised as she squirted on his cock.

When the peak of her orgasm subsided, she noticed Harry’s thrusts grow uneven and she helped him by rolling her hips to meet his.

She looked so spent, and her eyes opened to watch him as he came undone, lip caught between her teeth.

Those eyes are what did it for him. He came, hard, and fast. Hot cum shooting up inside her, as he flopped down with a guttural, deep, moan of her name. Whispering sweet nothings as he let himself fill her up with his release. Balls twitching, while his hot breath raggedly hit her neck.

“S’fuckin’ good,” He said, kissing her lips. “My perfect girl,”

She kissed back tiredly. Just as they were about to kiss even more deeply the shrill sound of Y/n’s phone ringing erupted in the room. Fleetwood Mac was her ringtone and Y/n pulled back to see who it was.

Incoming call from Em💛🌻 lit up Y/n’s screen and a photo of Emma from primary school was the picture. She looked so cute and ridiculous in it.

Y/n now noticed about five messages from her. And Harry noticed her stiffen, pulling out of her to sit up and, she winced at the feeling. Suddenly empty of him, and wishing he’d stayed a little longer.

Harry tried not to notice the way his cum leaked out of her, but it made his cock twitch, he walked around Niall’s room until he found some tissues. Coming over and gently wiping her up, while Y/n replied to Emma’s text.

Her pussy was sore, and swollen, from pleasure. As he cleaned her up, she flinched.

He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Sorry, Trouble, I’ll try n’ be gentle.”

Once he’d gotten her all cleaned up they sat up and fixed her outfit. Pulling the straps back up over her shoulders, and her fluffy tule down, the sticky knickers covered in their cum made their way off her. His rough hands remained soft on her hips as he slid them off.

“What are you doing, Styles?” She asked eyes wide, and doe-eyed. Suddenly all innocent again, like she hadn’t just squirted all over his cock in someone else’s bed.

“Can’t have you all sticky can I? Don’t worry I’ll hold onto them.” He said sliding them into his front pocket. The pale pink lace bunched up in a tiny ball, not sticking out. All tucked away, their filthy little secret.

She blushed a rosy hue and was about to protest but he kissed her and grabbed her hand to sit her up, pulling her by her wrists to stand up with him. Tugging the hem of her dress down so she was covered, as hunted around the room for his own clothes. Quickly tidying himself up and finding the devil horns that Y/n had thrown out of his hair at some point, before stealing one last kiss from her.

It was deep and slow, tongues melting together, as he moaned softly against her, his hands hugging her body nice and close to his. He felt weird having sex and going back downstairs so quickly, he was so used to cuddling with Y/n now, but he was sure she felt okay and he tried to assure her.

“Go find Em, I’ll find you in a bit, okay? Don’t go anywhere, Trouble,” He said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears and placing one final kiss on her forehead before letting her go.

Her face hurt from smiling so much, and she turned to leave, but just as she was about to open the door she turned back around and ran over to him to quickly place a kiss on his cheek. He smiled at her, god, she was cute.

And watched as she disappeared back outside into the real world, sighing to himself. He took a moment to sit down on the bed, taking in deep breaths as he beat himself up silently. He was partly celebrating in his head because holy shit, Y/n was his girl now, officially, she’d signed her name on the dotted line with the devil, handing over her precious angel soul. His initial hung around her neck, a silent show.

But he did wish he could’ve told her he loved her. Because god, did he love that girl, his chest physically hurt to be apart from her, it ached. He never felt that way about anyone before. Y/n is home, Y/n is happiness, Y/n is his childhood, and Y/n is his first and only love.

He should tell her. He silently decided to work up the courage soon, when the moment felt right. When neither of them had been drinking.

As Y/n walked down the stairs in search of her decidedly drunken best friend she sighed quietly, hoping the sex she’d just had didn’t wear on her face, praying her cheeks weren’t flushed in a show of how besotten she was for Harry.

Y/n’s legs were stiff, and her pussy was still coming down from the high Harry had given her before. She was sore, his cock was still too big for her, and as she walked she tried not to let on how much he’d ruined her.

Finally spotting her best friend with tears standing by the kitchen she rushed over. Emma began to bombard her with questions but Y/n just shrugged saying she bumped into some people from her Pysch class.

Emma was far too inebriated to notice the stutter and lie and pulled her to the kitchen to do a few shots. By the time they’d done their third Niall pulled them over into an intense game of beer-pong which surprise surprise they both sucked at, resulting in them drinking a lot of stale-tasting beer. After their harsh loss, they floated over to the dancefloor, which was just the living room. Niall was playing some good music tonight, as per usual, and Y/n felt happy as the two girls melted together in a huge mess of limbs and dancing.

She swayed her hips, ass pressed against Emma who had wrapped her arms around Y/n’s neck and shoulders. They were both very drunk now, the shots they’d done catching up to them, and the intense game of beer-pong Niall had roped them into had Y/n stumbling.

The house music that was playing made her feel even more off her face as she let her eyes flutter shut. Emma’s hands crept over to his hips and Y/n began to grind against her. They always danced pretty sexually together, and Y/n felt safe in her arms, she’d rather shake her ass against her best friend than some random frat guy.

And if she had to settle for the other Styles she didn’t mind, but she would rather be dancing against Harry. Who she’d lost, she didn’t know where he had gone now. But she let those thoughts drift away as Emma spun her around and they melted into a hug.

Singing to the song as it came to an end, Y/n lifted her head to look at Emma’s pretty face.

“I love you,” She slurred, obviously drunk. She also thinks Zayn and her had maybe spliffed up a bit. Because Emma’s eyes were red and she looked more out of it than normal.

Y/n smiled. “Love you too, Em.”

“I’m gonna go find Zayn, will you be okay?” She asked.

Y/n nodded, “Yeah, go find him. I’ll go see if Niall is anywhere.”

Emma leaned over planting a peck on her lips, which wasn’t unusual for her, and left. Y/n sighed and instead of finding Niall, she found her body continuing to move along to the rhythm of the song. Her eyes shut once more as she raised her hands and danced her heart out.

She sang along to the song and pretended she was off in a magical land on her own. Time felt like it had slowed. As the song drew to the beat drop she felt a pair of hands slide on her hips and she spun around, uncomfortable at the thought of some strange man grabbing her.

But it wasn’t a strange man, no, it was Niall. She laughed. “Nialler!”

Her hands fell to his shoulders and she began to dance with him. Niall was a notorious flirt across campus, he was bisexual and that meant no one was safe from his constant flirting. And even though Niall had a boyfriend, and wow, now technically she did too they danced like two single people ready to leave together.

His hands melted to her hips and she leaned her chest into his. They jumped and swayed and they were both drunk and on a different planet almost. When she felt another pair of hands melt onto her waist and a warm back press into her she turned to look over her shoulder, it was Harry.

She leaned into his back her bum pressing against his crotch as she felt his hands firmly stay on her hip bones while Niall’s stayed around her waist. Sandwiched between the two very attractive men had her wanting to laugh.

She giggled, and they both did too. Her head fell back to rest against Harry’s shoulder as they continued vibing along with the song. After a few songs, which flew by in the blink of an eye Paddy wandered over and whisked Niall away who left with an eyebrow raise and from the looks of it they were about to go blowie and make up.

As Y/n turned to face her boyfriend she sighed. Her boyfriend. She had one of those!

She leaned forward to plant a quick peck on his lips.

“Take me home, Styles?”

So he did.

love u thanks for ur patience more soon - L xxxx

476 notes · View notes

sleepyhollands · 9 months

Text

false god

PAIRING harry styles x reader

SUMMARY harry’s having trouble finding enough time to spend with y/n, even after she drops everything and joins him on tour. when they talk, they only seem to argue. when they don’t, they only seem to fuck.

WARNINGS she’s an angsty one— lots of miscommunication, poorly executed arguments, and general couple fighting content. BUT!! there is lots of really cute fluff at the end :> also, beware of smutty content such as soft!dom harry (my favorite), oral (f!receiving, implied m!receiving), unprotected p in v, a brief hesitation to get naked on y/n’s part, an even more brief mention of bondage play, harry leaves like one love bite, and tooth-rotting holding each other while having sex content. lmk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT 5.5k

AUTHOR’S NOTE fun fact this was supposed to be done months ago and then literally everything that could have gotten in my way did just that. but she’s here now!! writing this was a challenge but i feel so good about it now that it’s complete and i can’t wait for you all to read it. please lmk you enjoyed by leaving feedback and/or reblogging!! special thanks to @cherryjuiceblues for beta reading for me <3 ily <3

LOVER SELECTION one-shots here.

“harry, it doesn’t matter if—”

“it does to me!”

“hey, there are two people in this relationship, you know.”

“yeah, an‘ one of ’em feels like right shit on what’s meant to be the greatest tour of his life! doesn’t that mean anythin‘ to you?”

“of course it does, i just—”

“really? ’cause y’could’ve fooled me, love.”

“harry, i swear, if you interrupt me one more time, i’m booking the next flight home.”

… tour had been going really well for harry! he was playing back to back sold out shows in some of the biggest cities in the world, with adoring fans lining up by the thousands, itching to hear him sing live. he’d already had some really sweet interactions on stage, and no crazy mishaps had occurred (he was especially proud of himself for having ensured everyone’s safety so far). just in the last week alone, he’d been nominated for three different awards for his newest album and performances. anyone could see that he was living a dream— the dream, really. the kind that only comes true once in a blue moon.

and yet… tour had been going really poorly for harry. now, he doesn’t like to complain about much; he knows just how fortunate he is, and actively tries to see the bigger picture when frustrated. but it was really hard to zoom out of his particular situation when he was so zeroed in on a particular aspect that had been bugging him for weeks— y/n.

don’t get him wrong! y/n herself wasn’t what was bothering him. it was more so her presence, and his… lack thereof.

if there’s one thing harry prides himself on more than anything, it’s being an attentive lover— even in the most innocent and platonic of ways. he tries his absolute hardest to be a supportive brother, a considerate son, a (hopefully) decent role model to those who look up to him, and especially a present, loving boyfriend. and for the most part, he’s just as successful in those aspects as he is in his career. in fact, y/n regularly speaks of how harry treats her like she hangs the stars in the sky just for him, how he makes her feel like the most special girl in the world.

but this tour was taking its toll, and harry was taking it out on y/n. he’s never been great at communicating everything in the most positive of ways— that’s where he turns to songwriting— and he’d let his emotions get the better of him after letting them build up for the past couple of weeks. he wasn’t proud of himself, but he needed an outlet.

harry didn’t mean to start the fight. but when y/n asked him where he’d been after a last minute management meeting following that night’s show kept him an extra half hour later than he said he’d be, it was like all the frustration just erupted. inadequacy is one of his least favorite feelings (next to loneliness), and being a barely-there or only-sometimes-there boyfriend couldn’t be more of a trigger for that particular emotion.

now here they were, vexation filling the tour bus around them like a fog they could barely see through, inhaling it with every breath and releasing it back into the atmosphere surrounding them. harry huffed out a sigh, arms crossed and brow furrowed as he angrily looked out the window of the tour bus to distract himself for a moment, having to mentally step away from the argument at hand, even if just for a few seconds. watching as the dark streets outside shined with the headlights of other vehicles, he found himself wishing he were in one of them. it would be nice to be in a car alone, nothing but his thoughts and some music to keep him company.

but he had real company. she was standing not six feet away from him, emulating his defensive position with her arms drawn across her own chest, jaw clenching and relaxing every other moment. when he finally turned to look at her again, he exhaled loudly.

“we were crazy to think that this could work,” he mumbled, barely audible to y/n, but she was able to make it out.

even when they fought, the girl seemed to be in sync with him, inhaling deeply, subconsciously countering his previous expulsion of breath. the yin to his yang.

“what are you talking about?”

harry groaned at her words. how didn’t she get this? “y/n, i’m never around! i wake up when you’re still asleep, prepare for the day, go to the venue, help set up the stage, sound check, rehearse a bit, and then ’m off t’go get ready for a show that lasts two hours. almost each night! i come back exhausted and aching to sleep! where d’you see yourself fitting in there?”

when y/n realized it was her turn to speak again, she said, “first off, do you think you could please calm down a little? i can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

his eyes narrowed. “like what?”

“when you’re acting like a child, harry! i mean, for god’s sake, i’m not nine! i can handle hanging out on my own for a few days at a time and just getting to cuddle with you at night until you have a day off. it’s not like i don’t have things to do throughout the day, too.”

while harry tended to say things he didn’t exactly believe in the heat of the moment, y/n meant every word she uttered. she really was content relaxing in the tour bus or a hotel room taking care of work on her laptop, catching up on new episodes of her favorite shows, or even going out to explore whatever new city they were in by herself. harry had breaks between show days once or twice a week, and the thought of having those days to themselves was enough to sate her desire to spend time with him. it annoyed her that he didn’t understand that, as she’d never been the clingy type and was always very self-sufficient.

“oh, i’m acting like a child, am i? right, i didn’t realize that wanting t’be present in my relationship with my girlfriend was childish, but hey, you learn something new every day, i s’pose.”

oh, y/n was really starting to seethe now. letting her arms fall to her sides with a frustrated puff, she began again.

“god, harry, you’re not childish for wanting to spend time together! i’m saying you need to realize that i’m perfectly capable of waiting for your days off to really spend time with you. you’re acting like we can’t function without each other!”

“the whole idea of you comin‘ on tour with me was to have this time together, y/n,” harry fired back. “if we’re barely going to get to see each other anyways, then what’s the bloody point?”

…

harry might have spoken too soon. at least, that’s what he thought as he laid overtop y/n on the tour bus couch, because now the point might very well be getting to just feel her lips on his every now and again.

it was late; harry had just come back from a show. usually, he’s too tired to do anything but crash onto a cloud-like mattress after all the jumping around he does on that stage, but this time all he wanted was his girl. it’d started innocently enough, with harry pulling y/n into his lap on the worn, red leather of the couch. his hands roamed along her hips and down to her waist beneath her soft hoodie (which wasn’t even technically her’s, but is it really theft if harry just leaves his clothes lying around for her to nab?), exploring the soft expanse of her skin, not straying any lower. her own hands were hidden in his curls, lightly scratching at his scalp in what she hoped were soothing motions.

harry knew he was done for once he initiated the kiss. tentative at first, he pressed light pecks along the corner of her mouth, quick and feathery, like he didn’t really care if he got to kiss her so much as he got to hold her, or simply be with her. but soon, the eagerness set in, like he wasn’t sure when the next time he’d get to have her was, and suddenly he was capturing her mouth with his own, barely giving her a chance to breathe as he tasted her. while harry never really believed in a higher power, he could have sworn he found religion in her lips.

things only escalated from there. it wasn’t long before harry was wrapping his muscular arms around y/n, so tight that he accidentally squeezed too hard, earning a squeak from the girl. he muttered a hushed but sincere “’m sorry, darling,” to compensate. one hand supported her head, the other splayed across her back as he laid her against the cushions so that he could keep loving on her on the way down. he relished her little whimpers that she tried so hard to suppress, grinning against her jawbone, her neck, any skin he came across on his journey south to more pressing territory.

harry didn’t bother removing y/n’s hoodie, opting instead to push it up past her naval in favor of gaining access to the waistband of her fluffy sleep shorts. he felt her hands tighten their grip ever so slightly on his shoulders as he hooked his fingers under it, relaxing again when he rubbed the pad of his thumb delicately along her hipbone, reminding her it was only him.

it was a thing with y/n. she loved harry, of course she did, and she trusted him more than anyone. and maybe it was the way she was brought up, or perhaps a few poor experiences with sexual partners in the past, but there was always a fleeting moment of anxiety before shedding the clothing barrier before sex. like dipping a toe into a cold lake and hesitating a little, then ultimately deciding that jumping in wouldn’t be so bad.

harry never pried. the first few times they’d slept together, he noticed her nerves, and asked her if she was sure she wanted to continue. y/n had said yes each time, and after a while, he stopped asking. but still, whenever he noticed that brief nervous shift, harry gave her a chance to change her mind.

this time, he bided his time by sponging tender kisses right above where his fingers were still half hidden under her shorts. he wanted her to feel safe, and taken care of, and he hoped his gentle touches and even breathing could remedy her anxiety. as he waited, harry’s mind drifted…. he was getting lost in the feel of her soft skin, its dips and curves and blemishes. he thought about her waist, how his hands fit so perfectly against its sides; her tummy, and how the muscles there jolted when he tickled them; and her hips… god, if y/n’s body was a church, her hips could be the altar. harry was ready to say a prayer right then, thanking every higher power for blessing him with this gorgeous girl—

“harry?” his love’s melodic voice interrupted his thoughts, and harry’s eyes snapped up to meet hers, his nose continuing to skim just above her navel. “um… you can keep going. please.”

the corner of harry’s mouth quirked upward, and y/n could have sworn she caught a glimpse of mischief in the jade of his irises, but it was gone in an instant, as he wasted no time in stripping her of her bottoms.

…

“god, h-harry,” panted y/n, her grip on his curls constricting with every lick to her core, “’s so good, oh—”

“would feel even better if y’stopped trying t’run away from me, wouldn’t it? don’t wanna have to tie you down.”

y/n couldn’t help it! it wasn’t her fault if harry’s tongue was just too good and her body’s natural reaction was to attempt to escape his grip for a little relief. if anything, he should be happy— they’d been at this for so long y/n lost count of the minutes, and after two toe-curling orgasms, one would think harry’s jaw could use a break.

but that thought flew out the window when y/n remembered who she was metaphorically in bed with.

“’m sorry…,” she whimpered, gripping the side of the couch cushion as her eyes squeezed shut.

“don‘ have to be sorry, darling,” harry mumbled against her folds, chin glistening with her arousal as he placed a soft kiss to y/n’s clit, making her jolt in his hold. he breathed a short laugh, adjusting his arms so that one held her upper thigh next to his head, while the other pinned her hips to the red leather, restricting her ability to move. “jus’ wanna make you feel as good as possible, is all. will y’let me?”

harry turned his head, nipping at the inside of the girl’s thigh, and she gasped at the brief assault on the softest skin of her body, now adorning the mark of his front teeth that she loved so much. she shuddered a breath as best she could, and harry could tell by the way her knuckles were turning white in their grip on the couch that she was trying her best to be good. feeling a twinge of guilt, he figured maybe he should offer her a second to breathe. y/n opened her eyes when she felt harry’s lips retreat from her aching cunt and the weight of his head rest against the love bite.

“hey.”

y/n cast her gaze down upon the boy (who looked far too innocent, considering what they were doing) with his cheek laid on her inner thigh, stray hairs tickling her just a tad. playfulness swam in his eyes, but there was an underlying current of concern.

“doin‘ okay?”

she nodded, gulping. harry noticed.

“because we can take a break if you want to. just say the word, okay?”

“i will, i-i promise. but… can you please keep going?”

that was all he needed to get right back into it, only with even more fervor than before. when y/n reached her third and final peak of the night, her whole body shook, and harry had the pleasure of getting to watch as he helped her ride out her high. he almost came in his pants, rutting his hips into the sofa, moaning against her core, begging her give it t’me, love, that’s it.

harry pulled back when she started pushing at his head, whining for relief as he gave one final lap at her core. he grinned at her fucked-out figure as he wiped his face on his forearm, then took her hand that had been grasping at the cushion in one of his, bringing the back of it to his lips for a gentle kiss.

“feel all right, baby?”

“mhm,” she hummed between heaving breaths, glancing at what she assumed could only be a quite painful stiffy between his legs as he sat up, “do you?”

harry followed her line of vision, offering her a chuckle and an i’m fine, using his free hand to smooth his thumb along her brow. before he could even register it, her palm slipped from the grip of his other hand and traveled down to rub against the bulge in his pants, earning a sharp hiss from her boyfriend and a deep groan soon after.

“why don’t you let me repay the favor?”

…

harry was pretty sure y/n was asleep. if she wasn’t, she was definitely on the verge— her breaths were deep and even as she laid in his hold, her head on his chest, ear pressed overtop his steadily beating heart. and who could blame her? the evening’s activities had worn her out, which meant harry had done his job properly. he was more than happy to be wide awake, running his fingertips up and down her arm, inhaling the sweet scent of her fruity body wash while she dreamt if it meant she was rested and content and happy.

moments like these made harry think they could get away with it. the long hours spent apart, the hectic schedules, the fighting. sure, it was tough, and yes, they both had a temper that rivaled one another’s for the ‘least amount of patience award’ on any given day. but every missing ounce of patience was compensated by double its weight in love. they loved one another enough to make it work.

they could make this work.

right?

…

“jesus, harry, how do you think that makes me feel? you’d honestly rather i not be here? are you actually that insecure?”

“c’mon, y/n, you know tha’s not what i meant.”

y/n felt like they were going around in circles, having the same fight over and over again. only this time, the couple found themselves in a beautiful hotel room, with a beautiful view overlooking a beautiful city. and instead of getting to enjoy it, y/n was glaring at harry though the vanity mirror, his back facing her as he tamed his wild curls for tonight’s show… which he had to leave for in just a few short minutes.

the balled up fist on y/n’s hip flew up to her face, fingers flexing to pinch at the bridge of her nose as her eyes squeezed shut for a moment.

“i can’t believe this. i dropped everything to be here with you— to support you on the most incredible tour of your career— and instead of being happy i’m here as opposed to the alternative of thousands of miles away in a different time zone for months, you’re sitting here bitching about being too tired?”

harry sighed deeply, only infuriating y/n more. “you’re missing the point. ’s not that i don’t want you here, or just that ’m too tired. ’s knowing you’re sitting around by yourself, waiting on me while ’m working, when you could be out with friends and family, or sleeping in the comfort of your own bed—”

“that you’re not in!” the girl loudly interjected— how didn’t he get this? “i put all those things aside for us, har. it’s not like i’m leaving my life behind for years. christ’s sake, the tour is over in two months! but somehow, being away from my home and routine is easier than being in the same room as you right now.”

harry contemplated his next words carefully, turning them over in his head a few times and editing any obvious mistakes, leaving the pair of them to marinate in suffocating silence for a good ten or so seconds before he finally spoke.

“y/n… i can’t be a good boyfriend and a serious artist simultaneously, okay? not while ’m on tour. i can’t keep losing sleep over how well i’m balancing—”

“okay, you know what, harry? you know what? maybe you should just leave me, then. wouldn’t that be easier? you’d be able to sleep better at night, right?”

they both knew she didn’t mean it, though harry couldn’t lie and say it didn’t hurt to hear. but she was pissed, and harry knew better than to try to reason with her when she was like this.

when she realized he wasn’t going to respond, instead electing to stare brokenly into the mirror, she continued. “you know damn well how hard i work for this relationship. i’ve flown across the oceans that have separated us, driven for hours just to get to see you for, like, one— hell, i’ve skipped some of my most important classes so we could go to shitty dive bars in the middle of the day together! yeah, remember that? i love you, okay? people who love each other are supposed to be grateful for any time they have together at all, no matter if it’s every day or once a year.”

y/n took a breath, finally cooling down after her heated rant. she took a moment to take in the sight of her boyfriend, dressed so vibrantly, feeling anything but.

“they warned us about times like this,” the defeated tone of y/n’s whisper was enough to finally get harry to say something.

“what was that, love?”

the girl swallowed the little saliva in her mouth before speaking up a mere decibel. “remember what my parents said? ‘the road gets hard, and you get lost when you’re led by blind faith,’” she imitated her father’s deep voice, and if not for the circumstances, harry might’ve laughed.

they weren’t lost, were they?

…

if there was such a thing as heaven on earth, y/n is pretty sure she’s been there. in fact, she goes there whenever harry so much as touches her.

when he kisses her shin as they lay watching a movie together on the couch, pulling her leg up off his lap and craning his neck downward to meet it in the middle. when he runs his fingers down the bridge of her nose, making an exaggerated boop! noise once he reaches the tip, gently pressing against it like a doorbell. and especially when he has her like this.

harry’s arms felt secure wrapped around y/n’s torso, her hips moving back and forth atop his own. the feeling of his cock twitching and shifting inside her while her nipples rub deliciously along his chest made her dizzy, like she had just gotten off a loopy rollercoaster. harry’s back arched just slightly off the plush mattress of their hotel suite’s bed when y/n gave a little bounce, arms constricting around her and forcing a pleased sigh to fall from her lips.

the girl hid her face in the crook of his neck, and harry could feel each and every hot breath against his skin. lost in pleasure, he let his large hands migrate from her hips down to her bum, where he gave a small pinch to the flesh, eliciting a yelp and a small jolt from y/n.

“sorry, baby,” he laughed, “couldn’t help m’self.” harry gently flattened his palm against the now tender skin, rubbing there softly in an attempt to soothe the little ache he left. when he felt satisfied, he shifted to rubbing between her shoulder blades instead, his other arm still wrapped around her lower back as she returned to her previous rhythm above him.

y/n could tell harry was enjoying himself. his groans alone were evidence enough, not to mention the little utterances of “shit, darling,” and “so good t’me,” he frequently let slip. but perhaps he just needed a bit more to reach his high, because without warning his hands were on her thighs, gripping tightly as he began to thrust upwards into her at a much quicker pace than she had originally set— it had her seeing stars in a matter of mere seconds.

“oh, god— harry,” y/n gasped out, gripping the edge of the plush pillow by harry’s ear. she could feel him hitting that special spot inside her with every snap of his hips, and she couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling back into her head, muscles tightening all throughout her body.

“almost there, angel… just…,” harry’s thrusts began to slow, becoming more deliberate, and now he was moving her hips to grind against his each time they met, sending y/n over the edge.

y/n’s moans were long and drawn out as she came, body spasms making her hold on more tightly to harry for stability. she didn’t even hear him finish, too busy reveling in the euphoric feeling of cumming in his arms, surrounded by warmth and love and feeling the safest she had in a long while.

it was moments like these where y/n couldn’t fathom how she’s ever been upset with harry. he was perfect, lying here under her unsteady body, breathing deeply not only to catch his breath, but to take in the smell of her. she wanted this for eternity. and if this was heaven, then surely hell was when they fought with each other.

…

y/n thought she was dreaming at first, not used to being roused from her slumber by anything other than her well-timed alarm and the occasional bark of a dog on a nearby street. she expected that after blinking the sleep from her eyes a few times, the vague image of her favorite boy would dissipate, and she’d fall back into the comfort of her warm pillow. but when she squeezed them shut once, then twice, and her boyfriend’s face was still a foot away from her’s, brushing his fingertips up her nose and along her brow, she set aside her exhaustion in exchange for confusion.

now, harry knew better than to wake y/n up. in most circumstances, she’d tell him off, or gently kick at him to get him to leave her alone. he found it rather endearing, and it’s one of the reasons he’s so protective of her in her sleep— always holding her close to keep her safe, shielding her eyes from any light intruding on the space she lay, making sure both their phones were set to ‘do not disturb.’ but he had to make an exception, just this once.

“darling,” she barely registered his whisper, “wake up f’me, please?”

a whine fell from y/n’s lips, her eyes scrunching shut as she turned her body away from him, which harry knew was code for let me sleep, for fuck’s sake! a smile graced his lips at the action, jotting down a mental note to make this up to her later.

compensating for the newfound distance between them, harry scooted closer to her. he kneeled on the floor next to the bed, close to the pillows she rested upon. he laid one arm against the mattress, perching his chin on the back of his wrist. using his free hand, he continued to brush his fingertips lightly against his love’s cheek, her jaw— all along her face, really. god, her loves her face so much.

“please, baby?”

harry had just come back from one of his best performances yet— the crowd’s energy was unmatched, the chemistry between him and his band members was palpable, and he’d managed to not get hit with any flying objects all night! but what really did it for him was the fan project he was surprised with at the end of the show. thousands of people in the room wore light-up bracelets that shone pink and blue during one of his favorite songs, ‘love of my life.’ if harry’s heart had been any more full in that moment, it might’ve exploded right there in his chest.

he had been on cloud nine for a moment. but soon, realization washed over him in a way that squeezed at his lungs, stealing his breath for a second. the love of his life was somewhere miles away, probably sitting in their hotel room watching a comfort film, oblivious to anything he was feeling on that stage. he just wanted to go home to her and gush about what had happened, and how he wished she’d been there, and how it made so much sense that it would happen during ‘love of my life’ because it was the perfect representation of the amount of love he had for his, and how if she’d have been there, he would have looked directly at her and smiled the whole time.

it made him realize how bloody stupid he was.

in retrospect, the conversation he’d needlessly just woken y/n up for could have waited until morning. but then harry wouldn’t have been able to sleep if he didn’t tell her he was sorry right away.

a groan sounded through the room, followed by the ruffling of bedsheets as the girl turned back over to glare annoyedly at harry. he let out a soft laugh at her behavior.

“’m sorry, baby. know you jus‘ wanna sleep right now, but ’s it okay if we talk for a mo‘?”

“now?” y/n asked in a gravelly voice.

“now, m‘ love.”

with a soft sigh, she relented, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her knuckles. harry caught the motion, bringing his hands up to pull hers away from her face. he didn’t like when y/n did that, as she always managed to do it too roughly. instead, he held her smaller hands in his own, getting up to sit on the edge of the bed, facing her.

“what is it?” y/n asked through a yawn. harry looked at her for a moment— really looked at her— before responding.

“i’m sorry.”

it took her a moment to register his words. “for waking me up?”

harry laughed that dreamy laugh she loved so much, and it almost made up for the fact that she was up at twelve thirty in the morning. “no, y’little minx. not for that. well, yes, for that, but that’s not what i meant.”

“what are you sorry for, then?”

harry looked at her with an expression y/n couldn’t place. it look him a few beats to speak. “i… i’m sorry i was such a prick before. i love that you’re here, an‘ that i get t’see you when i’m off. know you put aside a lot for this, an‘ i ruined it with m’own problems. didn’t mean to.”

y/n’s features softened at the boy’s sincerity, and if it weren’t for the warmth his hands encapsulating hers provided, she’d have reached out and held his face, peppering kisses over every dip and curve.

“i know you didn’t…. i’m sorry, too.”

“for what?”

“i should’ve listened better. you were trying to tell me how you felt and i just disregarded it. that wasn’t very nice of me, either.”

the right corner of harry’s lips tugged upwards, morphing his mouth into that little half-grin y/n adored so much. “think we can get past it, darling?”

the girl scooted forward the tiniest bit, harry’s magnetic pull too hard to resist. though they were the only two in the room, she whispered, “i’ll forgive you if you forgive me.” harry liked how she made something so simple sound like a secret deal between them.

harry’s half-smile quickly quirked up, completing itself, and y/n swooned over his dimples and adorable bunny teeth. a short and quiet breath of a laugh fell past his lips, and for a moment, he just looked at her. but his gaze caught a glimpse of uncertainty in her eyes, and his grin faltered a bit.

y/n was always good at hiding her true emotions when she wanted to. not when it really mattered, don’t get her wrong— she wasn’t one to take anyone’s shit. but at dinner with her parents or meetings at work, she was able to pretend she wasn’t exhausted or annoyed. it never worked with harry, though. he could read and understand her like his own lyrics, and tonight was no exception. he saw through the mask of humor at her uncertainty, and a pang of guilt bloomed in his chest.

he let out a sigh as he beckoned her forward by gently tugging her hands, still in his, toward him. “c’mere, baby,” he said softly, pulling his love into his lap. y/n curled into him, knees tucked upward into her chest as his strong arms found purchase around her frame, holding her tenderly but securely. one of harry’s large hands held the back of her head against him, her ear right over his heart, listening to it beat for her.

“love you like crazy. you’ve no idea.” he peppered light kisses to the top of her head, so softly she might’ve missed one or two. “thank you for comin‘ an‘ s’porting me. means the world, honestly.”

“i’m happy to be anywhere with you, har,” she replied in a voice honey-thick with sleep. “even if it’s just for a few minutes. always so happy to have you.”

harry closed his eyes, laying back into the pillows, bringing y/n down with him so that she was laying overtop his sturdy body, inhaling his every exhale.

“you have me,” he said, though he was almost certain she didn’t hear him, likely already pulled into the void of sleep, drawn in by the comfort of harry’s arms, his smell, him.

“you’ll always have me.”

taglist (final time using the old one, see new link in bio): @fahsey @caswinchester2000 @lmaotshollandd @jackiehollanderr @nervousdadmode @amii-nyc @skitmix @auggie2000 @voguesir @yourgoldengirls @hunnybunimdun @lolooo22 @atoris-fantasy

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goldengalore · 1 year

Text

Intimacy

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Y/N hasn’t been intimate with someone in a long time, which makes her nervous about having sex with Harry for the first time.

Word count: 6.5k

Warnings: anxiety, smut (featuring soft dom!harry, fingering, thigh riding, oral - m receiving)

A/N: This is one last idea (for now) that I had for the anxious!reader universe. Lots of smut, but it’s very soft and sweet and full of love :)

***

His hands. Y/N can’t stop staring at his hands.

There are a lot of things she finds attractive about Harry. Too many. It’s actually maddening how one person can have so many attractive qualities. Lately, her brain has decided to fixate on his hands. They’re pretty and elegant, strong and masculine.

His long fingers are often decorated with an ornate collection of rings. Sometimes his nails are painted with vibrant colours; other times, they’re unpainted but still clean and neatly trimmed. She can often see the veins that travel up the backs of his hands into his toned arms. He moisturizes them well too, so they rarely look dry.

Y/N would be lying if she said her obsession with Harry’s hands is completely innocent and merely about aesthetics, that she hasn’t imagined how those fingers would feel in her mouth or between her legs and orgasmed to the thought of that while lying alone in bed at night.

It doesn’t help that he’s a highly affectionate person, finding any excuse to place his hands on her whenever she’s within reach. Even now, as they lounge on his couch, he pulls her legs into his lap and begins massaging them. She’s wearing a knee-length dress today, leaving her lower legs exposed. His hands don’t move up past her knees, but that doesn’t stop her imagination from running wild anyway.

“Y/N?” His smooth, commanding voice—another annoyingly attractive feature of his—pulls her from her thoughts.

“Hmm?” Her eyes flick up to his emerald ones staring back at her. She realizes with embarrassment that she hasn’t listened to a thing he’s said in the past minute or so.

“What were you staring at?” He glances down in his lap, where her gaze was just a few seconds ago.

“Oh, just your hands.”

His brows furrow slightly as he starts inspecting his hands, turning his palms up, then down. “Why? Something wrong with them?”

“No! No, they’re just… nice. Nice hands. That’s all. Sorry, what, um, what were you saying?”

A teasing smirk forms on his lips. “Nice hands, huh? Never heard that one before.”

She rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the heat rising to her cheeks. “Please. I’m sure you’ve heard that a million times.”

“Mmm, not really.”

She narrows her eyes at him, not believing him for a second. His smirk broadens.

“Anyway,” he says, resting his hands back on her legs, “I was just saying that I really missed you last week.”

Now she feels even worse about zoning out on him. He’s been out of town this past week for work. They reunited just this morning after his flight landed back in LA.

“I missed you too, H.”

“This week made me realize something.”

Her heart skips a beat. “What?”

“Made me realize how much I hate being away from you. I know our friendship started over Zoom meetings and phone calls and whatnot since I was on tour, but…” He shrugs. “After spending time with you in person these past couple months, I can’t imagine being away from you for weeks or months at a time. I think I’d go mad.”

His confession feels like being swaddled in a warm blanket. While he was away, Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about him. His fluffy hair and dimpled smile, his kind eyes and boyish laugh, even his cute nose consumed her thoughts from the moment she woke up in the morning to the moment she fell asleep at night. She found herself cursing the slow passage of time frequently throughout the week. To hear that her feelings were reciprocated makes her giddy inside.

When she takes a while to respond, he says, “I hope that wasn’t too intense. It’s just been on my mind lately and I had to say it.”

“No, I feel the same way.” I think I’m in love with you, she says in her head but struggles to speak aloud. She has never been the first to say those words in a relationship.

He smiles, relieved. “Okay, good.” He holds her gaze for a few seconds, then shifts closer, her legs still strewn across his lap. His hand comes up to cradle her jaw as he leans in for a kiss, sucking her top lip into his mouth.

She scoots even closer, practically sitting in his lap now. The movement causes her dress to ride up. Harry rests his other hand on her bare thigh, squeezing it lightly. Her heart quickens. His hand inches along her inner thigh, hiking her dress up even further. Suddenly, her whole body tenses up and she shrinks away from his touch.

“Sorry, I—I can’t,” she stammers, quickly removing her legs from his lap and tugging her dress back down.

She sneaks a glance at his face and detects some hurt there. It lasts for a split second, but her brain registers it anyway. She feels awful. This is the second time he has tried to get intimate with her beyond just kissing. The first was the night before he was supposed to fly out of the city. They were cuddling in his bed. She was giving him all the signs that she wanted to take things further—letting her hands roam all over his body, grinding her hips against him—but as soon as he started returning her touches, she pulled away.

It’s frustrating because she fantasizes about it all the time, yet when it finally starts to happen, she freezes up. It’s like her mind and body are on completely different pages.

“I’m sorry, H,” she repeats.

“It’s all right.” He gives her a reassuring smile. “You’re not ready for that. I understand.”

“But I am ready. I just…” She looks up at the ceiling as if the answers to her puzzling emotions will be there. “Ugh! I don’t know.”

A long silence stretches between them, though it probably feels longer in her head than it is in reality.

“I should go,” she finally says, rising to her feet, but he grabs her hand before she can go anywhere.

“Already? We haven’t even had dinner yet.”

“But I made things awkward!”

“No, you didn’t. Stop that.”

She was trying to avoid his gaze, but he tugs on her hand to make her look at him.

“We’ve been apart for a whole week. You think I’m letting you run off that easily?” He frowns a bit. “Wait, that sounded creepier than I’d intended.”

She giggles, feeling somewhat lighter. “Okay, fine. I’ll stay.”

They order sushi for dinner and crack open a bottle of wine. The awkwardness she felt earlier fades as Harry starts telling her about a deep conversation he shared with the five-year-old girl sitting next to him on his flight. Y/N is glad she decided to stay because if she had gone home to spend the night by herself, her overthinking mind would have eaten her alive.

After dinner, they transfer back over to the couch with their wineglasses in hand. They sit cross-legged, facing each other. The wine has helped her loosen up some more, granting her the courage to explain why she’s been so reluctant to get intimate with him.

“I’m not a virgin,” she tells him. “I know it probably seems that way because of how I act every time we try to do anything sexual, but I’m not. Not that there’s anything wrong with being one, obviously. I just thought you should know.”

He nods. “Okay.”

Although he doesn’t press any further, his eyes are curious and attentive in a way that makes her want to spill everything, just lay out all her secrets and fears and insecurities in a big, messy pile in front of him.

“I’m not a virgin, but I haven’t had sex in years,” she explains. “And I’ve always had to have a few drinks before doing it. I tried doing it sober once, and it was a total disaster. I was on the verge of a panic attack the whole time, and the guy didn’t know what to do. I just told him to keep going, so he did until he finished and—”

“Lovie, that’s not okay,” he interjects, brows pinching together in concern. “He should’ve stopped when he realized you were having a panic attack.”

“Well, to be fair, I told him to keep going. It was totally consensual.”

“Still. He should’ve at least stopped to make sure you were all right. Seems like basic human decency to me.”

“I guess....” She shrugs, knowing that he’s right but not wanting to think about it much longer. “Anyway, after he finished, he told me that having sex with me was like fucking a scared baby deer.” She forces a laugh, though the memory still makes her cringe inside. “Needless to say, I was mortified and never saw him again. And that’s the only time I’ve had sex while sober.”

“And all the times you weren’t sober, did you at least enjoy it?”

She hesitates. “Um, define enjoy.”

He appears even more concerned now. “If you’re having to ask that question, I’m afraid the answer is no. If you enjoyed it, you would know.”

“Well, I just asked because if by ‘enjoy,’ you mean ‘did I orgasm during it,’ then it’s a no. But my anxiety was a lot more under control, so I guess that could be considered a form of enjoyment… Right?”

Rather than answering her question, he asks, “You’ve never orgasmed during sex?”

She shakes her head. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, but her cheeks still feel like they’re on fire.

“Have you ever had an orgasm?”

“Oh, plenty. When I’m alone, that is.”

“I see.” He rubs his jaw and looks away, sinking deep into thought. She can’t read the expression on his face.

“So, now you know how bad I am at sex,” she jokes to fill the silence.

He looks at her with a raised brow. “I don’t know about that. If anything, it’s the guys you’ve been with who were bad at sex if they couldn’t even make you come once.”

“Oh no, they were all very experienced.” Y/N doesn’t know why she’s defending these men, as if they would do the same for her. Perhaps it’s because she’s spent her whole life thinking she was the problem and this is the first time someone has suggested a different perspective to the one she’s become so accustomed to.

“Experience doesn’t always equate to being good at something.”

“I guess not.” She bites her lip and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I do want to try again… with you. I just don’t know how to stay calm without having a few drinks in my system.”

“Yeah, we’ll have to work on that.”

His use of the word “we” doesn’t go unnoticed by her. We, as in this is our problem, not just yours. We, as in we’ll figure this out together, you don’t have to do it alone. She feels a surge of something in her chest, and the only term she can think of to describe it is love.

“I’m calm right now,” she says with sudden realization, placing her wineglass on the table so quickly that it almost topples over. “So, technically, we could try again—”

“No.” He shakes his head. “We’re not having sex for the first time while you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk drunk though. Just a bit tipsy. I think we could still—”

“Y/N, it’s not happening,” he states firmly. “Other guys might have been okay with that sort of thing, but I’m not, okay?”

Her shoulders slump. She looks down in her lap. “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just want you to know that I want it as much as you do.”

“I know. Hey”—he tilts up her chin—“we’ll get there. There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere.”

He has no idea how much of a relief it is to hear those words. Her biggest fear this whole time has been him losing interest in her because she can’t seem to get over her anxiety around sex. It’s happened before. Guys often expect her anxiety to disappear after the first time. When it doesn’t, they take it as a blow to their ego and react by making her feel like a freak for being anxious at all. The humiliation leads to even worse anxiety the next time she gets intimate with someone. It’s a vicious cycle.

She doesn’t want to get her hopes up or anything, but maybe that cycle finally ends with Harry.

***

When it comes to Y/N, Harry just doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself. Even before they met in person, he would dream of the day he could finally have her in his arms, how perfectly their bodies would mold together, how electrifying that first contact would be. For months, he’s been dying to touch and feel and kiss every inch of her, but after hearing about her sexual history, it’s no surprise why she’s so hesitant to take that step with him.

Taking things slow is not a problem for Harry. If anything, he feels lucky to be the one who gets to show her how fun and exciting and stress-relieving sex can be when the people involved actually care about each other’s pleasure.

It’s been a few days since that initial conversation. They’ve had several more discussions about it since then, and he thinks they’re ready to try something now.

He stares at Y/N lying on his bed, looking cute and cozy in his forest green Pleasing crewneck. Her lips are swollen from all their making out, her neck and collarbone littered with red spots where he licked and sucked on her skin like an ice cream cone.

“Question for you,” he says, leaning his head on his palm. “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”

“Hmm… A couple days ago?”

“Would you feel comfortable doing that in front of me?”

Her eyes widen. “Y—you want to watch me touch myself?”

“Only if you’re okay with it.” Her reaction already indicates that she’s not.

“Oh, I… I don’t think I am,” she admits, confirming his thoughts. “I mean, I don’t even like being watched while I cross the street. It’s like I forget how to walk.”

“Okay, different question. How would you feel about getting in a bath with me?”

She thinks about it. “I’d be okay with that.”

He runs them a bath lightly scented with a lavender oil he bought recently, while Y/N leans against the doorway and watches. Once he begins to undress, she follows suit. Starting with his crewneck, she removes her clothes at an extremely slow pace, as if she’s on the verge of changing her mind at any moment. He finishes undressing before she does and pretends not to notice her eyes bulging at the sight of his dick. Instead, he leans over to the tub to test the temperature of the water.

“I’ll get in first,” he says. “Then you can sit between my legs. Sound good?”

She swallows. “Yup.”

He steps into the tub and submerges everything but his head and upper chest into the water. His back rests against one side, his long legs outstretched in front of him.

In the meantime, Y/N finishes undressing. He forces himself not to stare, knowing that it’ll only make her more nervous. She moves quickly now, striding over to the tub and climbing in on wobbly legs. He holds out his hand for support.

“Careful,” he says.

She sits down between his legs with her back facing him. There’s still a lot of space between them.

“Just lean back against me,” he tells her.

She hesitates for a moment, then leans back until she’s flush against his torso.

He smiles. “There you go.”

“Okay, what now?”

“Nothing. Let’s just sit for a minute.”

They enjoy the next few minutes in companionable silence. The warm water seems to dissolve all the tension in her body, which is exactly why he suggested this idea in the first place. Her shoulders relax. She sinks deeper into him.

After a while, he says, “I’m going to try something. If you don’t like what I’m doing or you want me to stop, I need you to tell me. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. My ego can handle it. Okay?”

She responds with a tiny nod.

“I need you to answer me verbally, lovie,” he says softly in her ear. “Just so I can be sure we’re on the same page.”

“Yes. Got it. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. Don’t have to apologize.”

“Sorry,” she says again, automatically. “Fuck! Sorr— Shit! Why do I keep—” She starts to sit up, but he places a hand in the middle of her chest, gently pulling her back against him. He can feel her heart galloping like a racehorse.

“Y/N, relax. You’re okay. You’re doing great. Just breathe.”

She inhales a deep, shaky breath, then releases it.

“That’s good. Keep doing that.”

Her heartrate gradually decreases with each breath she takes. Once she appears to have calmed down, he moves his hand from the centre of her chest to one of her breasts, cupping it tenderly in his palm. His other hand comes to rest on her belly before making its descent between her legs. She squirms a little once the pads of his fingers make contact with her clit.

“Are we okay?” he asks.

“Y—yeah.” She takes another deliberate breath.

He rubs her clit in small, tight circles and kneads her breast at the same time. Her hands rest at her sides on top of his thighs. As he pinches her nipple, twisting and pulling it lightly, her fingers dig into his thighs and his cock twitches between their bodies. He wonders if she felt it. His middle finger prods around her slit now and slips inside without resistance. He pumps it in and out a few times before adding a second one, using his thumb to rub her clit.

Y/N is completely silent, but the slick substance coating her pussy and the subtle rocking of her hips is confirmation enough that she’s enjoying this. He peeks at her face to find her eyes closed and her bottom lip pulled between her teeth like she’s afraid of accidentally making a sound.

That is another thing they’ll need to work on. Harry likes being vocal during sex and equally enjoys when his lovers are vocal too. He doesn’t want Y/N to hold anything back around him. But they can work on that another day.

“Does this feel good?” he asks.

She nods, then remembers what he said earlier and answers out loud, “Feels good, yes. Really good.”

Satisfied by her response, he presses a third finger inside and pushes all three of them deep into her with every thrust, turning her into a squirming, quivering mess in his arms. Her back arches off his torso as she comes, the smallest whimper slipping through her self-restraint. He gradually lessens the stimulation on her clit, then removes his fingers completely. She lets her head roll back against his shoulder.

“Wow,” she sighs. “I’ve never… That’s never happened with someone before.”

“Wasn’t too bad, was it?”

“No, it was great. Um… thank you?”

He chuckles. “My pleasure.”

Suddenly, she sits up and looks over her shoulder at him. “So… your turn now?”

He waves his hand, splashing some of the water with it. “Don’t worry about that.”

She frowns. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs casually, trying to act cool as if he can’t feel his dick throbbing furiously under the water right now.

He could take her up on the offer, but he wants to focus on her today. Y/N is too nice to admit it, but he has deduced from their recent conversations that her previous partners were too greedy in the bedroom, exploiting her selfless nature for their own benefit. It’s quite unfortunate. Someone like her deserves to be spoiled, not exploited. At least now that she’s with him, he can make sure she gets the treatment she deserves.

After they’ve cleaned up and stepped out of the tub, he grabs one of the towels off the counter and starts handing it to her, then stops.

“Can I dry you off?” he asks.

She seems surprised but not opposed to the idea. “Sure.”

“Okay, just one moment.” He quickly pats himself dry, then grabs the other towel and walks over to her.

Timid eyes gaze up at him. They fall shut as he raises the towel to her face and dabs away all the little water droplets. Next, he moves down to her neck, shoulders, chest, and so on… After he’s done with her upper body, he sinks down to his knees on the mat and works on her lower half, taking his sweet time and humming softly to himself. He glances up to find her smiling at him.

Once her entire body is dry, he leans forward and plants a kiss to her belly before standing up with the towel thrown over his shoulder. Y/N’s eyes follow him as if in a trance.

“All good?”

She just blinks at him.

“Y/N?”

“I’m in love with you.” The words rush out of her like a whoosh of air that had been trapped in a sealed container. “God, it feels weird saying it out loud. It’s been in my head for so long and I didn’t want to say it because that makes it feel more… real.”

“Why’s that a bad thing?”

She doesn’t reply.

“Because you think I don’t feel the same way?”

“Do you?” She winces slightly as if she’s bracing herself for possible rejection, as if the answer to that question could be anything but “absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent yes.”

“Of course I do, Y/N. I thought I’d made that pretty obvious.”

“You should know by now that nothing is obvious with me.”

It’s true. Even when they were just friends and Harry began dropping hints that he wanted to be more than that, they pretty much all went over her head. Y/N is a smart woman; she just happens to be totally oblivious when it comes to love and romance, which he finds deeply endearing about her.

“Well, take this as your confirmation that I am, in fact, very much in love with you,” he states, taking her face in his hands and giving her a big, sloppy smooch on the lips, which she accepts with a laugh.

***

“That’s it, lovie. Keep going. You’re doing amazing.”

Y/N rocks back and forth on Harry’s thigh, her cunt positioned directly over his tiger tattoo. His thick, firm quads provide the perfect amount of friction against her needy clit.

A week ago, the idea of riding his thigh while he watched her would have made her extremely self-conscious. But since then, they’ve spent each night exploring each other’s bodies. He has given her several more orgasms with his fingers and mouth, while she has given him some with her hand. They’ve masturbated in front of each other. One night, he gave her a full-body massage that turned her on so much that he hardly even had to touch her clit to make her come.

She doesn’t mind being watched anymore. Not by Harry, at least. His gaze is never judgemental or critical. She doesn’t need to fret over saying or doing the wrong thing and ruining the moment. This has made her fall even more head over heels for him.

“Look so pretty getting yourself off on my thigh like this,” he says, toying with her breasts.

A moan starts to leave her mouth until she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth to trap it in. Harry reaches up and drags her lip back down with his thumb.

“Let me hear you,” he says. “Wanna hear how good this makes you feel.” He grips her chin between his thumb and index finger, keeping her mouth open.

She’s close now, the heat of her orgasm building in her core. Her hips grind faster against him. He lifts up his thigh to heighten the pressure on her clit. The tight knot in her lower abdomen unravels, and she comes with a loud moan, soaking his thigh with her juices.

“You make the sweetest sounds when you come,” he says, releasing her chin.

She pecks him on the lips and, before she’s even recovered from her orgasm, gets on her knees between his legs.

He frowns. “What are you doing?”

She looks at him like it should be obvious. “Returning the favour?” As she begins to reach for his cock, he grabs her wrist.

“Nope,” he says. “You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like you have to pay me back for every orgasm. Sex doesn’t have to be so transactional, you know?” The smirk on his face conveys that he’s joking, but that doesn’t stop Y/N from having the sudden, embarrassing realization that perhaps she does treat sex like it’s transactional and just wasn’t aware of it until now.

“I—I know that,” she fibs a little. “I just want to make you feel good.” That part, at least, is not a lie.

Harry has been spoiling her heavily this past week, which has been delightful. She can tell he’s making every effort to gain her trust in the fact that he doesn’t expect anything in return for how incredible he makes her feel. But Y/N likes making him feel good too. She likes the way he hisses and shudders when she finds his most sensitive spots. She likes watching his usual composure crumble simply from her touch. She lives for it.

“Please?” she adds to her request, giving him her best doe eyes.

“Okay,” he says. “If you really want to.”

“I do.”

He lets go of her wrist, allowing her to reach for his stiff cock again. Nerves make her hands tremble, as she remembers how long it’s been since she gave someone a blowjob. She wants it to be perfect, but realistically, she’ll probably be a bit rusty.

She strokes him in her hand and runs her tongue along the underside of his shaft until, finally, she feels ready to take him in her mouth. Her lips wrap around his tip and slowly move down his length, tongue gliding against him. She considers deep-throating, then decides against it because it’s been way too long since she’s done it and she needs time to work up to it again. Any insecurity she felt about that disappears the moment she glances up at Harry. His eyes are closed and jaw clenched, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

Emboldened by the look of absolute ecstasy on his face, she bobs her head up and down his shaft and massages his balls with her hand. She moans around him, and he releases a low groan at the sensation it produces. Then she lets his entire length slip from her mouth, teasing him by flicking her tongue over his tip and leaving little kisses along his shaft until his fingers are weaving through her hair in desperation.

“Didn’t know you could be such a tease,” he says with a breathy laugh.

She grins innocently, then takes him into her mouth again, determined to suck him to completion this time. His hand feels good in her hair. She imagines him holding her head in place while he fucks her mouth. She never thought she would be into that sort of thing until now.

“I’m gonna come soon, Y/N,” he warns her as he gets close.

She doesn’t pull away. He thinks she didn’t hear him, so he repeats himself. She makes eye contact to convey that she heard him, that she wants him to come in her mouth, which he does moments later. She relishes the taste of it, swallowing every last drop. As she draws back and wipes her mouth clean, he stares at her in amazement.

“You’re really fucking good at that,” he tells her.

“Thanks! I had this boyfriend in college who only wanted blowjobs all the time since that didn’t involve having to make me come, which was basically impossible for him. He was kind of demanding, but he taught me how to give a damn good blowjob.”

Harry grimaces. “You know, the more I learn about your previous partners, the more I want to hit them over the head with something.”

She laughs. “I think I make them seem meaner than they were.”

“No, I think you make them seem nicer than they were.” He pats his thigh. “Get up here.”

She stands up and sits on his thigh with her legs dangling between his this time. His arm wraps around her back.

Locking his eyes on hers, he says, “You are worth so much more than being some guy’s blowjob dispenser, all right?”

“I know, I know,” she says. “I was just young and naive back then, but I know better now.”

“Good. Don’t ever let any man or woman treat you that way. Okay?”

His eyes are so full of care and concern for her that she thinks she might just cry.

“Okay,” she replies.

***

Harry loves writing about the initial euphoria that comes with falling in love. It’s intoxicating and exhilarating and all-consuming. Many of his most successful songs were inspired by this peculiar feeling. It’s no wonder that he keeps heading into the studio lately to harness all this creative energy and inject it into his music.

Today, Tom, Tyler, and Mitch are all in the studio with him. Mitch is riffing on his guitar while Harry adlibs over it when Jeff pokes his head into the room.

“H, Y/N’s here to see you,” he says.

Harry raises his brows. “She is?” She didn’t tell him that she’d be visiting the studio today.

“Yeah, she’s waiting out front.”

“Is she all right? Did she say why she’s here?”

Jeff shrugs. “No clue. She seemed fine.”

Y/N always seems “fine.” She’s quite skilled at pretending everything is okay when it’s not, which can be rather concerning. Harry tells the guys he’ll be back, then heads to the front of the studio where he finds his girlfriend staring at a wall decorated from top to bottom with framed album covers of legendary musicians.

“Hi, darling,” he says as he approaches.

She turns to him, eyes illuminating as soon as they meet his. “Hi! Sorry, I told Jeff not to go get you, but he did anyway.” She gives him an apologetic smile. “I hope you weren’t in the middle of something. I swear if you were writing your next Grammy-winning single and I just ruined your flow, I’ll be so mad at myself.”

“Stop it. You haven’t ruined anything.” He steps closer, taking her hands. “Now tell me what brought you here. Are you okay?”

He studies her as she replies, “Yes, I’m fine. I’m not here for any particular reason. I just…” She hesitates. “I needed to see you.” As soon as she says it, her eyes squeeze shut. “Fuck, that sounds so needy.”

“That’s okay. We all get needy sometimes. Do you want to sit in the studio with me?”

She bites her lip, giving it some thought before shaking her head.

“Okay.” He brings her hands between their bodies, swinging them apart and together again. “Then tell me what you need.”

“I—I need…” She glances down in the general direction of his crotch.

A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. “You need…?”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t make me say it.”

He tilts his head to side, feigning innocence. “Say what?”

“Baby…”

He wanted to make her say it, but the pleading look in her eyes makes him cave. “You need my cock, is that it?”

“Shhh! Not so loud!” Her head spins around to make sure no one heard them.

He laughs. “There’s no one around, lovie.”

“Still!” She sighs and presses her hands against her flaming cheeks. “It’s not fair. You’ve been teasing me with it this whole week, and it’s all I can think about. Couldn’t even focus on my art today because I kept thinking about how…”—she drops her voice to a barely audible whisper—“how you would feel inside me.”

It’s been exactly a week since Y/N first hinted that she’s ready to go all the way with him. Harry was the one who wanted to put it off a little longer. He predicted that if he made her wait long enough, her hunger for it would overpower any anxiety that might crop up during the act.

Smiling, he brings his hand up to her cheek, her skin hot against his cool palm. “Aw, I know, sweetheart. You know the only reason I’ve been teasing is to make sure you’re ready for it.”

“I know. And I’m ready now. I really am.”

“Okay, but we can’t exactly do it here, you know that?”

“Why not? Isn’t there a bathroom in here somewhere?” She pushes up on her toes to look over his shoulder down the hallway where he came from.

“We’re not fucking in the studio bathroom, Y/N.”

She groans and lifts her hands up to his chest, scrunching his shirt between her fingers. “But I can’t wait any longer!”

“Yes, you can.” He wraps his hands around her wrists. “You’re going to be a good girl for me and wait until I pick you up from your flat tonight.”

She pouts and concedes, “Fine.”

He kisses her pout and gives her a hug that lasts for several minutes because she doesn’t want to let go and he never lets go until she does, so they’re in a standoff for who’s going to let go first until finally, Y/N releases him.

After that, the rest of the day moves at a snail-like pace. Harry can hardly focus; he’s too distracted by the thought of what’s to come tonight. Every lyric he comes up with sounds too raunchy to put in an actual song. Even his friends jokingly speculate about why he’s acting so strange—especially Tom, who just loves to make him squirm.

That evening, he has to make a conscious effort not to speed all the way to Y/N’s flat. The plan was to pick her up, take her back to his place, and maybe eat dinner before having their fun, but he thinks he’ll have to skip most of those steps.

Y/N buzzes him into her building. She’s on the second floor, so he doesn’t even bother with the elevator and takes the stairs two at a time. As soon as she lets him in, his mouth is on hers. She kisses him right back, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing up against him. They make their way to her bedroom and remove all their clothes, ending up on the bed with him on top of her.

“Naughty girl,” he says between kisses to her neck. “Came all the way to the studio because you were needy for my cock, hm?”

She covers her face with her hands. “H, don’t tease! I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”

He gently pulls her hands away from her face. “Don’t be embarrassed. Do you have any idea how sexy it is that you want me that badly? Got me all hot and bothered at the studio. Could barely keep myself together for the rest of the day.”

A mischievous little grin makes its way onto her face. “Really?”

“Yes, really. That’s the effect you have on me.” His hand drifts down between her legs to find that she’s already drenched, so he grabs his cock and runs the tip up and down her slit. When he looks back up at her face, there’s a hint of apprehension that wasn’t there before. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just remembered that I haven’t had something so, uh”—she swallows, glancing down at his cock—“big inside me in a while.”

“Do you want to be on top? That way, you can go at your own pace.”

“What if my pace is too slow and you can’t come?”

“What if I come two seconds after I’m inside you? Would you still love me?”

“Of course!”

“There’s your answer then.”

She squints at him, her lips curving up. “Well played.”

They switch positions so that she’s on top of him, straddling his hips while he leans back against the headboard. She carefully guides his cock up to her entrance, inserting the tip before lowering herself onto him. Her tight walls stretch and expand to accommodate him. She winces from the discomfort. He massages her hips, reminding her to take her time.

It takes her several attempts to get him all the way in, but once he’s there, the feeling is indescribable. He curses under his breath, closing his eyes briefly.

“Is that okay?” she asks.

“Perfect,” he responds in a strained voice. “It’s perfect.”

She seems reassured by his response and starts moving her hips in slow circles, getting used to having him inside her. Then she lifts up and sinks all the way down again. Soon enough, she’s riding him at a steady pace, her hands on his shoulders, her breasts swaying gorgeously in his face, beckoning him to place his hands over them. He has pictured this moment so many times, he can’t believe that it’s finally happening.

He starts thrusting up into her, meeting her halfway. As his thrusts become sharper, her jaw drops open.

“Harry—”

The sound of his name slipping out of her mouth like that, all salacious and full of yearning, is a drug he can see himself getting addicted to.

“Please,” she whines.

He slows down, worried that he might have been too rough. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just— Please don’t stop. It feels so good.”

“Feels good, huh? Someone finally fucking you like you deserve?”

She nods, her eyes rolling back as he resumes the movement of his hips.

“This is what it’s supposed to feel like,” he tells her. “Remember this.”

“Oh, I will.” She barely finishes her sentence before he pounds into her again.

He feels himself about to crest and reaches down to rub her clit. A final medley of moans and grunts leave their mouths as they come. Her pussy spasms around his pulsing length. As the waves of pleasure subside, her body goes completely slack in his arms, worn out from the intensity of the experience they just shared. She rests her head against his shoulder, basking in the afterglow while he brushes his fingers through her hair.

Her soft voice breaks through the silence. “I didn’t know it could feel this good. I’ve been missing out.”

“We’ve got plenty of time to catch you up. Don’t you worry.” He kisses the side of her head, earning a contented sigh from her.

***

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freedomfireflies · 11 months

Text

Theirs*

Summary: The fourth part to Mine*

Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has returned home after being away.

The first thing on his agenda?

Your punishment.

Word Count: 6.3k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content, so please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞*

“Don’t look at me like that.”

Swallowing a huff, you straighten up from where you’re knelt on the bed. Your innocent doe-like eyes silently pleading with Harry to simply give in.

However, he merely crosses his arms and leans his tall body against the doorframe to the bedroom. “I know you’re getting ready to say something bratty, and I’m gonna tell you right now…don’t.”

You frown. “Har—”

“No.” His tone is cool but firm. His expression is unreadable. And despite the way you’ve attempted to present yourself to him, he remains unfazed.

He doesn’t allow himself to drink in your submissive stance. Or the revealing lingerie you’ve worn just to tease him. Or even the way you've kept your head bowed since the moment he walked in, just to tip the scales in your favor.

In fact, when he first came home and found you here, he’d simply cleared his throat and announced he was back.

And that he was ready for that talk.

You try again. “Har, I just—”

“What did I just say?” he reminds you, brow cocking upward. Your third warning. “I want you silent. You are not to speak until I allow you to do so. Is that understood?”

You push your lips into a wounded pout and nod once.

Pleased with your reaction, he rewards you with the softest of smiles. “S’a good girl. It’s my turn to talk right now. And your turn to listen. And I want you to listen very closely. Okay?”

Another nod.

He straightens up and takes a beat. He allows you to wonder. Allows you to anticipate what he might say.

Anticipate how much trouble you’re in.

“Do you understand why I ask you to do certain things?” he begins. “Do you understand…why I expect your obedience?”

You blink up at him, forcing a captivated expression so he knows you’re listening.

“Because there are only a few things in the world I cannot control,” he continues. “But you…I will always control you."

Your cheeks warm.

“I control your body,” he murmurs, pushing off the wall to step closer. “I control your pleasure…and I control your safety. I will always…control your safety.”

He reaches the edge of the mattress and takes your chin between his fingers. With a firm squeeze, he looks down, and your heart races inside your chest at his touch.

You haven’t felt it in days.

And it sets your entire body alight.

“I will always protect you, sweet girl,” he says, and despite the dominant edge, his vulnerability manages to slip through. “I will always take care of you. You…are my number one priority. Whether I’m here or there. And I need you to know that.”

His thumb brushes down your bottom lip, and he plays with it as he gazes at you. In a way so loving, and so devoted…you feel yourself clench.

“I expect your obedience because it’s the only way I can know I’m keeping you safe,” he whispers. “That I’m keeping you cared for. That you’re okay even if I’m not here. So when you go against my direct instructions…it scares me. And do you want to scare me, mama?”

Your head shakes quickly as a whimper gets caught in your throat.

“No. I didn’t think so,” he just about coos, smiling softly. “So you understand why I have to punish you now?”

Your lashes flutter like butterfly wings and you nod, practically reeling as your thighs squeeze a bit tighter together.

“Good,” he hums proudly, hand dropping from your face. You just about pout. “And you’ll take it, won’t you? Take it like the good girl I know you are. Until you learn…not to do it again.”

You nod again, fingers curling into your palm as you resist the urge to reach for him. You understand why he’s doing this. And you appreciate it more than that. This is one of your favorite scenes with him and you’re practically shaking with anticipation.

But…you also wish you could hug him. At least greet him properly and welcome him back before jumping into everything else. Kiss him tenderly and tell him how much you missed him. How happy you are that he’s safe.

That he’s come home.

You imagine this is why he’s refusing to let you do just that. He has to know how much you want it and is instead using this cold, distant demeanor to aid in your punishment.

It’s rather smart.

Pleased with your response, he smirks. “I know you will. Gonna be so good for both of us, aren’t you?”

Both.

Your eyes widen while the flip in your stomach turns into a full-blown circus as you look up at him.

However, he merely glances over his shoulder toward the hallway. “Grab her.”

You don’t have the chance to fully process his instruction before Asher is slipping out of the shadows and making his way into the room.

You thought he’d left after Harry got home but you suppose it makes sense why he didn’t.

And you aren’t about to complain.

You watch him stride toward the bed, and he shoots you that gentle and playful grin of his as he begins to crawl behind you on the mattress.

Your breathing becomes rather sporadic as he loops his hands under your arms and guides you onto his lap. Then, he turns you around until your face is buried in the duvet and your ass is in the air.

And he keeps you there, strewn across his legs, and vulnerable to Harry’s hungry eyes as the room falls silent.

You hear the sound of a belt. The familiar but chilling clanging of metal and brushing of fabric as it’s pulled from Harry’s body.

And you know what happens next.

“You ready, sweetheart?” you hear Asher whisper, soft lips grazing the shell of your ear as he dips down.

You shiver, whining slightly as you nod.

You don’t see him, but you hear Harry slowly walk around the edge of the bed. He’s trying to tease you. Make you squirm. And it works because you’ve never felt so needy and pathetic in your life.

Rough fingers find your skin. Dancing up the backs of your legs and toward the cheap, skimpy thong around your hips.

You’d hoped him seeing you in such suggestive clothing would lighten his mood.

Apparently…you were wrong.

But it seems to still be working in your favor as Harry’s large palm smooths over your ass in an almost tender fashion. It’s warm, and slow, and tantalizing. The simplest of touches and yet…with him? It’s everything.

You relax at the feel, mewling thankfully at the relief you find in his touch.

This makes him chuckle under his breath. “Miss me that much, mama?”

You nod quickly, eyes squeezing shut as he moves for the material disappearing between your cheeks.

“Wrapped yourself up all nice and pretty for me, hm?” he continues before he finds the ribbon of your corset and begins tugging it playfully. “Are you my welcome home present, sugar?”

You whimper.

“You are,” he decides in a gentle purr. “And you do look so pretty. Doesn’t she?”

“Very,” Asher says, and you feel him slide his hand across your back so he can hook it onto your hip and keep you cemented to his thighs.

You’re almost thankful you can’t see them. Their voices alone are about to ruin you and you know their faces absolutely would.

“Tell me, sweet girl…” Harry calls before his finger wraps around the thong and he guides it away from your body, “…did you think this would work? Think I’d forget about your punishment just because you got all dolled up?”

Yes. “Mm-mm,” you mumble quietly, head shaking as you try to obey his rule about staying silent.

“No?” His grip on the fabric gets tighter as he continues to pull. “Then you wore this for yourself? Or for Asher?”

You resist the temptation grind against Asher’s leg as you exhale shakily.

“Speak,” Harry commands, and you glance to the side.

“Wore it for you,” you admit sheepishly to the two men awaiting your reply. “Wasn’t trying to be sneaky…just missed you and wanted to do something to show you that.”

He considers this for a very brief moment. “Are you being honest with me?”

Your lashes flutter and the silence in the room is deafening. “…no.”

You can practically hear them smirk to themselves as Harry hisses, “Didn’t fucking think so.”

With that, he snaps the panties off, forcing you to gasp as you squirm from the sudden force.

God, you wish you could see him. Wish more than anything that you could watch the muscles in his throat constrict from the anger you’re sure he’s trying hard to tame.

He’s always beautiful, but perhaps he's the most beautiful when he’s outraged. And every feature on his face is twisted into a malicious sneer as he inflicts his displeasure on anyone unlucky enough to witness it.

Maybe this is why you enjoy your punishments so much. Because his pain is always worth it.

The leather of his belt slides down your cheeks before traveling along your leg. He’s warning you. Giving you a moment to prepare. Something that almost seems thoughtful, but you know is only intended to worsen your apprehension.

And it works beautifully.

“What are you gonna do?” he asks as he continues gliding the material across your backside.

“I’m…I’m gonna count,” you recite in a small voice. “And…apologize.”

“That’s right,” he agrees. “And who…are you going to apologize to?”

Your mouth opens, ready to reply before you think his question all the way through.

“Both of you,” you finally answer, and he hums.

“Good.” He pulls the belt away from you. “I think eleven strikes should suffice. Three…for each day you disobeyed me. Three…for each day you disobeyed him. Four…for the fact that you thought you could get away with it by wearing this…”

He falls silent, and your thighs clench.

“And an extra…” he murmurs, “…because Asher deserves to see how pretty you look when you cry.”

Your eyes just about roll back and before you have the chance to feel thrilled…the belt cracks through the air and lands on your ass.

The sharp contact makes you jolt as you choke on a whine and lurch forward.

And the subtle sting is quick to trickle beneath your skin as he leans back, and you can't help sighing contently.

God, you've missed this.

“One,” you whisper, eyes locking onto the wall across from you. “I’m sorry.”

Another strike.

“Two.” Your fingers curl around the duvet as you steel yourself. “I’m sorry.”

Another strike.

With each additional whip of his belt against your skin, you’re forced into the light of pain and pleasure.

He gives you about fifteen seconds between each one. He wants you to feel it. Wants you to pray for it to be over.

And you do want it to be over. Only because that means he’ll finally be through with your punishment, and he’ll actually touch you. Hold you, kiss you, be with you in the way he hasn’t since he left.

You continue counting down, and as you do, the pain begins to linger. Not just from the spanking, but from the way your clit viciously grazes Asher’s leg whenever you jerk forward. And you try not to squirm, you really do, but the emptiness you feel between your thighs overwhelms you.

You’re sure Harry can tell. You’re sure Asher can tell. And he attempts to help you by squeezing your hip as you whimper from the forceful contact and apologize for the fifth time.

And then…everything changes.

Harry’s aim lowers and the firm leather meets the place where your thigh and butt connect. It lands there, right across the dip with a loud smack, and your ears start to ring.

You gasp louder than you have before. It’s hard, and it hurts, and the tears instantly pool in your eyes.

Your voice shakes as you say, “Six…I’m…I’m sorry.”

Harry pauses, and you assume he’s assessing your reaction before he does it again. Right in the same spot.

You yelp as your lip quivers, and the water begins to run freely down your cheeks.

God, it hurts. He always makes sure to make it hurt, and you have to appreciate him for it. After all, he promised punishment.

This is it.

“Seven,” you just about sob, your knuckles going white from how hard you’ve begun to grip the blanket. “I’m…I’m…”

You can’t get the word out. Can’t seem to force the syllables from your tongue as Harry tsks disapprovingly.

“Come on, sugar,” he tuts. “You were doing so good. Don’t make Daddy angry now.”

Your head shakes quickly as your eyes squeeze shut. “I’m…I’m sorry.”

He makes another noise, this time of appreciation before you hear the belt cut through the air.

Again lands the strike to the same abused spot, and you cry out as you seize up, writhing over Asher’s lap.

You feel Asher’s hand leave your hip before it’s suddenly ghosting across your face. His fingers quickly slip under your chin, and you sniffle as he guides your head toward him.

You can see the hesitation in his expression as he studies you, his thumb brushing across your soaked cheek as he looks back to Harry.

“Boss…” he calls quietly, almost as if in warning.

But Harry simply clicks his tongue. “No, she’s fine. She can take it. She’ll take it. Know she will. Gonna be our good girl.”

You attempt to nod, despite Asher’s hold, and when you hear Harry get ready to go again, your features twist into an apprehensive wince.

Asher frowns.

The belt slaps across your skin as you whimper and brace yourself against Asher’s body, almost as if trying to escape.

In turn, he tightens his hold as you cry a bit harder and nuzzle your face into his arm in an attempt to catch your breath.

“Count, mama,” Harry reminds you, and you swallow a pitiful whine as you begin blubbering the number.

“Har,” Asher tries again, interrupting your apology.

“She’s all right. And she’s gonna count. Just like I asked,” Harry replies, and you hear him run the leather through his hand.

Your bottom burns from the harsh whips, and despite how hard you’re trying to obey, your body seems to have other plans.

You’re overstimulated. Emotionally, physically, mentally. The pain from the spanking, the pain from the grinding against your cunt, the pain from knowing Harry’s keeping himself from you.

And you know he loves this. Know he loves to watch you weep for him. Because of him. After all, these are the only tears of yours he permits.

If you cry for any other reason outside of his attempts to pleasure you…all hell breaks loose.

So you allow yourself to cry. You allow yourself to get even further worked up as the tears pour, exactly the way he loves.

You sniffle once more as you stutter out the apology and curl yourself as close to Asher as you can, completely settling into the submissive roll.

To this, Harry hums before you hear him ready the next crack of his belt.

Your muscles instantly recoil when you hear the way it slices through the air, face scrunching up as you prepare for the contact.

Then, suddenly…something changes in Asher’s touch.

“Harry,” he snaps loudly, in a tone you’re sure you’ve never heard him use before.

The strike never comes.

The room falls silent.

Your soft sobs begin to subside.

You hear something hit the floor, and you wonder for only a moment what it was before a pair of hands are gripping onto your waist and gently turning you around.

You’re pulled from Asher’s lap as Harry scoops you into his arms, one palm coming up to cup your cheek to guide your attention to him.

“Okay, all right,” he murmurs softly. Soothingly. “It’s okay. Do you need to use your safe word?”

You take a minute to find your voice, frowning some as your bottom continues to radiate heat and soreness from the way you’ve been sat on it.

But Harry doesn’t rush you. He keeps you secure against his body, eyes soft and words comforting.

After a moment, you swipe your fingers through the stains on your face and shake your head. “No. No, I don't need to use it.”

“Are you sure?” Harry’s voice is stern but full of compassion. “Mama, you know I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know,” you whisper, offering a small smile. “You didn’t. I mean…not in a bad way.”

His eyebrows pull together, almost in disbelief. “Are you being honest with me?”

“Yes,” you say truthfully. “I promise. I don’t need to use it. I’m okay. You know I always take it for you.”

It’s his turn to smile, and he does so with a quiet chuckle. “I know, sweet girl. But what did I say? You always come first. And I won’t tolerate you allowing me to hurt you past what we’ve agreed on. I would never forgive myself.”

“I know,” you echo, leaning closer to brush your nose against his. He sighs gratefully as his lashes flutter. “I promise. I don’t need to use it. I’m okay. You’d never hurt me. I promise.”

For a moment, he simply internalizes this vow. Allows you to snuggle into his chest as he wraps himself around you and helps you calm down.

The two of you have only ever struggled with something like this once before.

You had slipped into your subspace after a particularly overstimulating session. Harry was intent on working out some of his frustration with you and you had been more than happy to oblige.

But soon, he lost himself in the punishment. In the way your body bent to his will. And you were too far gone to stop him. Unable to use your safe word despite the fact that you might have needed to. You just wanted to make him happy. So you allowed him to continue and didn't give it a second thought.

Once the activities had ended and you pulled yourself from the submissive state, you told him. Told him what you had almost told him before you floated away.

And it fucking ruined him.

He was guilt-stricken. He’d sunk to his knees and begged for your forgiveness. The first time he'd ever gotten onto his knees for you outside of sex. He kissed your hands, and hips, and stomach as he whispered his remorse into your skin. As he pleaded with you to allow him to make it better.

And you held no ill-thoughts or feelings. It certainly wasn't his fault. He had absolutely no way of knowing and you know he'd never do it on purpose.

But things changed after that. Agreements and understandings were made. Harry knows your limits and rules just as you know his. He keeps a close eye on you. Always. Looking for any signs that you're depleting yourself for his pleasure.

Thankfully, today this is not the case.

Today…this is everything you want.

When you’ve finally managed to relax your muscles, you lean back, and Harry smirks before running his thumb under your eye.

“My precious girl,” he whispers, and your skin warms. “Told you you’re beautiful when you cry.”

You glance down at your lap as you grin before your attention drifts to the left, where Asher still waits.

His expression is hard and filled with concern. It’s a look you’ve seen before, but only ever in the context of their work.

Today, this is a direct result of what happened only moments ago, and your heart aches when you see how worried he looks.

“You’re okay?” he repeats, and the sound of his voice is rather coarse as he looks between you.

“I’m okay,” you repeat as Harry’s hand drops back down to your hip. “Promise. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

His lips purse. He seems to be struggling to vocalize his unease and you shift in Harry’s lap so you can fully face the man beside you.

“I’ve never seen you get that angry with her before,” he tells his boss, and Harry nods. “Never seen her cry like that before. Felt…felt wrong to see her in that kind of pain and not do something.”

You feel a rush of adoration for your protector as Harry hums his understanding and squeezes your waist.

“I know,” Harry agrees. “I should have warned you earlier. But I’m glad your first instinct is to protect her. Even from me.”

Asher’s eyes fall to his hands.

You frown. “It’s okay,” you murmur again, crawling a bit closer. “This is just…what we do. It’s what we agreed on. We have a safe word and a system in place so I can always communicate with him.”

And while you’d hoped this would help, it seems as though it does absolutely nothing to comfort him as you settle onto your knees in front of his legs.

He keeps his focus down, almost as if punishing himself, so you slip your fingers beneath his jaw to guide his face to yours. Exactly like he had done to you earlier.

When you finally see him, you feel gutted by the weary pull of his expression.

“Ash,” you murmur, and he chews on the inside of his lip. “I’m okay. I like it when he makes me cry. Like it when he hurts me.”

You imagine he’ll be a little put off by such an admission, and for a moment, he simply blinks at you.

And then…his gaze darkens, and his teeth scrape together. Almost as if restraining himself from thinking about it.

You smirk to yourself. His reaction is quite telling, and you swallow a chuckle as you turn to glance over your shoulder at Harry.

He seems to be thinking the same thing you are, and he grins smugly before nodding his chin at you.

With this permission, you scoot a bit closer to Asher and tighten your hold on his cheeks.

“I’m okay,” you whisper again, and he releases a deep breath. “More than okay.”

He relaxes in your hold, and you use this as encouragement to move in. Your lips ghost down his neck. Hovering over a prominent vein before they finally make contact, and you feel him stiffen.

You press your mouth to his skin, and you can feel the pounding of his pulse as you linger there. As you let him realize what you’re doing.

Your kisses travel down. Soft and slow and rather innocent.

“I’m okay,” you repeat quietly between each one. “So okay.”

You’re simultaneously calming him down and working him up. You can feel the way he begins to unwind, subtly leaning into you as you let one hand travel to his chest.

It’s strong. Broad. Firm. Even through his dark t-shirt, you can feel the quick breaths he’s taking. The way he’s beginning to succumb to your intentions.

You smile.

He doesn’t touch you. Doesn’t rush you. He lets you explore whatever you’d like as you scratch down his pecs and lick just below his jaw.

It makes him shiver and you feel rather proud of the way you can ease his upset through such a simple touch.

Then, Harry clears his throat, and calls you back, forcing you to break away from the right-hand man.

Asher’s expression is hazy when you finally see it. Lashes fluttering as he swallows a sigh, and you offer a soft grin before turning back to your boyfriend.

“You like taking care of him, don’t you, mama?” Harry murmurs, hand coming out to smooth up your thigh.

You nod bashfully.

“Mm. I know,” he coos, hooking his fingers under your knees to help guide you back onto your ass. “But we’re not done with your punishment, are we?”

Your head shakes.

“No,” he agrees, glancing behind you toward Asher. “And I don’t think we’ve quite forgiven you yet.”

Asher clears his throat and slips his fingers around your upper arms to tug you down until your back meets the mattress.

Your head is laid between his thighs as Harry crawls down your legs, slowly pulling them apart so he can settle there.

And you know exactly what happens next. Know exactly what Harry expects of you, and there’s a catch in your throat as you glance up toward Asher.

In turn, he looks down at you with his familiar, teasing smile before brushing his knuckles across your cheek. “Say your prayers, sweetheart.”

The muscles in your stomach quiver beneath your corset at the salacious tone of voice just as Harry is lifting your hips and bringing you to his mouth.

You stumble over a moan and your eyes roll back as your nails scratch down the blanket beneath you. He’s wasting no time, instantly nipping and licking at your cunt as if he’s been deprived of it for weeks.

And for the two of you, three days feels about the same.

It’s all a blur from here. You can’t focus on anything else but him.

Them.

The way your boyfriend groans into your pussy as he licks you clean while his right-hand man keeps you glued to the bed.

And every time you squirm, Harry leans back to smack his hand against your clit, forcing you to cry out as you writhe away.

But Asher is there to make sure you don’t get very far, instantly bringing his hand to your jaw as he tuts, “Uh-uh.”

You’re already so worked up that it only takes a couple more minutes of sucking and teasing for you to reach your first orgasm.

And it’s everything. Overpowering and complete, despite the fact that what you really want…Harry hasn’t given you yet.

You hope he does. Hope he fucks you into oblivion but something tells you…that’s not in the cards tonight.

Once you manage to blink the stars from your eyes, Harry glances up at you, and you flush when you see the mess on his chin.

“Say it,” he hisses, curling his hands around your hips in warning.

You swallow and work to find your voice. “One…I’m sorry.”

“Good,” he growls before bringing two fingers closer. “Again.”

He slips in without warning, pumping himself through just to shove you back up the precipice of pleasure.

And it works. It so fucking works. You arch off the bed and struggle in his hold as you whisper his name.

He curls when he knows you can’t take it anymore. Strokes and thrusts and sucks on your clit until your muscles begin to ache. Until the tears have returned and the pain has slipped in beside the euphoric bliss.

The coil shatters moments later and Harry slaps his hand down your cunt when you come without warning him first.

“Two,” you blubber, throwing your arms over your face to hide. “I’m sorry.”

“Again,” he orders, even though he gives you no choice in the matter before diving back in.

And it hurts.

It hurts exactly the way you both love. You’re raw and sore and so overly sensitive but you revel in it as you cry once more. As you gasp for air and drag your nails down Asher’s thighs to ground yourself.

You hear him chuckle before he takes hold of your wrists and tugs them above your head.

Now, you really have no choice but to take it.

Harry adds a third finger, and the stretch makes you buck up. He responds to this disobedience by pinching your clit until you just about scream from the agonizing sensation.

But it pushes you into your third and you barely stammer out the number and apology before he’s slipping in a fourth finger and flattening his tongue against you.

And the sounds he makes. The sounds you make for him. The sounds of everything.

But then he spits, and you decide then that you’re never going to disobey him again.

You try to keep your eyes open but it’s so hard. So hard to do anything else but think of the feeling in your belly. Between your thighs. In your head.

It’s only when Asher reaches out to brush his thumb down your lip that you peer up.

“There she is,” he murmurs, and you whimper at the salty taste of his finger. “So sweet when you apologize.”

You’d likely respond if you could but you’re coming for the fourth time before you quite get the chance.

Now, it’s harder to catch your breath. Chest heaving and body trembling as Harry’s incessant teasing begins to slow.

“Four,” you finally sough through gentle sobs and hiccups. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry…I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

Harry eases himself out, quickly lifting to his knees so he can crawl up the length of your body and bring his face to yours.

He dips down and kisses you. Slow and gentle. A stark contrast to his previous forcefulness and you instantly melt beneath his mouth.

God, the way he tastes. His tongue is coated with your arousal and he shares this delicacy without a second thought. He pushes each drop into your mouth before his fingers find your throat, and curl around the delicate base.

His pointed squeeze tells you to swallow, so you do. And you’d swallow everything he ever gave you if that’s what he wanted.

But soon, he stops. He knows you’ve slipped away from him and after he takes his lips from you, he snakes an arm under your back and pulls you up.

His movements are tender. He doesn’t want to startle you or hurt you. He just wants to hold you as you swim through the haze of your submissive headspace.

But keeping his kisses from you feels like the cruelest thing he’s done all day. He must still be upset. You must not have done a good enough job. He must have wanted you to keep going but you didn’t and now he’s sad and hurt.

“M’sorry,” you mumble again, nuzzling your face into his neck the moment you’re sat upright. You can’t look at him. Don’t want to see the disappointment. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sorry—”

“Shh,” he interrupts in a quiet but authoritative hush. “No more of that. You’re okay. Did so fucking good, mama. I’m so proud of you.”

You whimper as you curl into his chest, already half-asleep from the overexertion.

But he keeps speaking to you, lips pressing into your hair as he hums his approval. “Took your punishment so well for us,” he says. “Knew you could.”

His fingers rub against your hip before he moves to the corset. He pops the buttons free and undoes the ribbon until he can pull it from your body.

Now you can breathe a bit better, and the cool air feels good against the sticky sweat coating your stomach.

This is the first time you’ve been truly naked in front of both men, but you don’t have the mental awareness to care right now.

Instead, you cling yourself to Harry’s body as he chuckles and runs his palm up and down your bare spine.

When the throbbing in your cunt has begun to subside, you hesitantly peek out from where you’ve hidden yourself in Harry’s collarbone to look between them.

Your eyes are wide and hopeful, lips already trembling as you ask, “…forgive me?”

Asher and Harry exchange a certain look you can’t read before Harry mumbles, “I forgive you, sweet girl.”

You smile brightly with this before looking to the second man.

He’s fighting a chuckle. “I forgive you, too, sweetheart.”

And you’re so thrilled. So happy to have made them happy that you hum contently and squeeze Harry’s hand in yours.

But this tender moment doesn’t last as long as you’d like before Harry is shifting you from his lap and back into Asher’s.

And after passing you off to his right-hand man, he disappears from the bed altogether, leaving you to watch him go with a curious look.

To help ease your confusion, Asher wraps his arms around your middle and pulls you into his chest.

“He’s gonna come back,” he tells you, tucking his chin just over your shoulder. “Gonna hold you till he is, okay?”

You nod quickly and nestle into his embrace.

And Harry does in fact return about a minute later, a washcloth in his hand.

There isn’t really much to clean up, but the warm compress always helps soothe those lingering twinges of pain.

So, he moves onto his stomach as Asher reaches down to pry your thighs apart and make room.

With an abundance of caution and adoration, Harry brings the towel to your swollen pussy, softly stroking the sensitive region.

He goes over your thighs, your stomach, your clit. He doesn’t rub or pull, and anytime you grimace, he stops.

But the warm water helps relax you even further until you eventually sigh as you unwind between Asher’s arms.

And Asher smiles against your temple.

When Harry’s through, he makes a trade. He hands the cloth to Asher while Asher hands you to him.

And once you’re back in Harry’s possession, Asher returns to the bathroom to discard of the towel and grab some lotion.

He then brings it to Harry as Harry gingerly guides you onto your stomach so he can begin.

The next few minutes are quiet but filled with love.

The soothing lotion is massaged over your backside as the sting from the spanking slowly dissipates.

You’re happy he’s not dragging you into the shower like he normally does. Not that you don’t enjoy the soft, lazy kisses under the water as he runs a loofa down your body.

But right now…all you really want is to get under the covers and fall asleep on his chest.

You want to welcome him home.

And a part of you is upset by the way you haven’t been able to show him how much you really missed him. Get a taste for yourself. Take him down your throat as he groans and gives you everything.

But you suppose this is part of your punishment. There will be other times for that.

Today…you had some repenting to do.

Once Harry is through, he flips you back around and kisses you. He tells you everything words never could. He paints his infatuation with you across your tongue and you couldn’t be happier.

After laying down beside you and pulling you into his chest, his fingers stroke delicately through your hair. Effectively lulling you into a blissful reverie.

“Want to talk to you about something, mama,” he mumbles quietly as you roll your head back to look at him. “Would that be okay?”

You nod.

“Both of you…actually,” he corrects before glancing toward Asher, who’s leaned against the wall watching. “Figured now might be a good time.”

Asher’s brow raises.

“You know…” Harry begins, returning his attention to you, “…that all we want to do is protect you and keep you safe…yeah?”

You nod again.

“And you know…we’d do anything for you,” he continues, pressing his palm to your cheek as he cups it lovingly. “Do anything to make you happy. Make you feel good. Yeah?”

Your answer is to turn your face and press your lips into his hand as he smiles.

“Good,” he whispers, stealing another curious glance at Asher. “Then I want to know…if you’ll let us do that. If you’ll let us make you feel good. In a way we maybe haven’t before.”

It takes a moment for you to realize what he means, but once the insinuation finds you, your breath hitches.

“Don’t have to answer right away,” he tells you calmly. “I know I’m asking a lot, sugar. And you know I don’t like to share you.”

A quiet moment passes as he leans down to place a kiss to your forehead.

“But I’ll share you with him,” he whispers. “Because I know he’d take care of you, too. And you’d take care of him, wouldn’t you?”

You nod quickly, heart hammering inside your chest.

“I know,” he smiles. “But you can say no, honey. You can always say no. I just think…you deserve to have all your little holes filled. Deserve to feel so fucking good. In every way you can. And I think that…is worth sharing you for.”

Your nails begin to scratch down his shirt as the image appears like a mural inside of your mind. Already, you can feel yourself clench from the very idea of being filled by them. From the idea of both their hands, and lips, and voices. The idea of getting to touch them, and be with them, and take them.

“And I know how much he wants to,” Harry adds, tossing a rather sadistic smirk across the room at his friend. “He’s told me before that he’d do anything you asked him to. Do fucking anything to feel you.”

Your eyes widen.

“S’that still true?” Harry asks his partner, and you can hear the taunt within the question.

Asher clears his throat quietly and straightens up, seemingly a little hesitant. “…yes.”

Harry chuckles before returning his attention to you. “So, I want you to think about it, okay? No right or wrong answer, sweet girl. Whatever you’re comfortable with, we’ll—”

“Okay.”

He pauses. “Okay?”

You tug your lip between your teeth and nod fervently. “Okay. Yes, I…I want to. I’ll…whatever you want. Do it. I’ll do it.”

He breaks out into a large grin. “Oh, that’s our fucking girl,” he just about growls before surging forward to kiss you.

And you bask under his praise. Under the possessive title you wear proudly.

You love to be his.

And you will always be theirs.

One more part🥹😭

Next Part:

~ Hers* (Final Part)

Previous Part:

~ Yours* (Pt. 3)

~ Full Mine Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

1K notes · View notes

justlemmeadoreyou · 5 months

Text

jealous!harry headcannons

-> Whenever someone flirts with you, Harry's jaw clenches involuntarily. His emerald green eyes narrow ever so slightly, a subtle sign that he's not entirely pleased with the attention you're receiving.

-> Harry doesn't even realize it, but his hand often finds its way to your lower back when another person enters your personal space. It's a subtle way of showing people that you're taken, a possessive touch that never fails to make you smirk.

-> His lips form an adorable pout when he notices someone charmingly complimenting you. He might act nonchalant, but that little pout reveals the hint of jealousy simmering beneath the surface.

-> When you catch him staring intensely at you while you're engaged in conversation with someone else, it's not just admiration. Those silent stares are his way of saying, "You're mine, and I don't like sharing."

-> Whenever you make out, or during sex, he likes to bite on your neck. Even though you ask him to not bite you at the visible spaces, but he always does. Just under your jaw, at the junction of your neck and shoulder, at the side of your neck, at your jugular almost possesively, to show that he is the only one who gets to do that to you.

-> Innocent questions like "Who was that?" or "Do you know them well?" become loaded with an undercurrent of jealousy. He might pretend it's just curiosity, but his heart beats a little faster as he waits for your response.

-> Harry's fingers might "accidentally" brush against yours when he senses someone watching a little too closely. It's a subtle way of reminding everyone that he's the one who gets to hold your hand.

-> In group settings, he strategically positions himself between you and any potential threats. It's a protective move that ensures he can keep a watchful eye and be ready to intervene if necessary.

-> He becomes unusually vocal about his love for you when he senses competition. Expect random declarations of affection and praise, as he wants the world to know just how amazing you are.

-> These may even get a bit heated when there's no one close, like whispers of "my good girl, aren't you?" "so good for me, baby. look so well by my side" "can't wait to have my head between those pretty thighs of yours" "you're all fucking mine, aren't you doll?"

-> While he may not growl audibly, the subtle, low vibrations that escape his chest when he feels jealous are enough to send shivers down your spine.

-> You'll notice him dressing a bit sharper or wearing outfits that accentuate his features when he knows you might encounter someone who could trigger his jealousy. It's his way of making sure he's the most appealing person in the room, to show just how worthy of you he is.

-> Harry's teasing takes on a whole new level when he's jealous. His playful banter becomes slightly more pointed, like "accidental" brushes of his hand on your inner thighs, innocent kisses on your neck that always leave you turned on, and hiding his love boner by holding you as close to him as possible, his cock pushing it's way between your ass cheeks, because "wouldn't want anyone to see how hard i'm for you, love"

-> Grunts and whispers of "you're mine" and "just fucking mine", "you belong to me, don't you? all fucking mine" while he's fucking you into oblivion. It's similar when he has his sinful mouth between your thighs: "taste so fucking sweet" "all this for me?" as if it could ever be anyone else except him.

🫠🫠🫠

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

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monzabee · 1 year

Text

how you get the girl – cl16

masterlist

Summary: The one where you and your boyfriend Charles attend a gala for a friend and run into Harry Styles – who happens to be your ex.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: mentions of a past break-up, jealousy, possessive charles, angst? (only if you squint, or maybe not I don’t know), charles being charles, google translate French, anger?

Request: “Can I request a Charles fanfic with angst? Maybe famous singer reader used to date someone really famous like Harry styles and they run into Harry and Charles is really jealous and acting up/mad?”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! this is my first time writing a fic, so all feedback is welcome and appreciated. i liked the idea that the anon named harry so i used him, but also i had to include taylor swift some way because she is the literal best. thank you anon for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” You sigh, fixing the way the neckline of your dress looks and meeting the eyes of your boyfriend through the mirror. “I know you’d rather be relaxing tonight than entertaining people.”

Charles smiles softly as he keeps his eyes focused on yours, the green in his eyes shining just a little bit brighter due to the afternoon sun shining through the hotel room window. He abandons his place on the edge of the bed and comes closer to stand behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Are you trying to convince me to stay back, or convince yourself, chérie?”

His question brings a mischievous smile on your lips and you shrug your shoulders with faux innocence as you lean your head back on the Monegasque’s shoulder. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, chéri.” Your use of the pet name he taught you when the two of you first went on a date makes him let out a laugh – well, you don’t know if it is because of your use or your pronunciation or your use of the word in general, but you’re hoping for the latter.

“Well, I think you are.” He takes your hand in his and slowly moves you from your place in front of the mirror. “And it’s not going to work, because you—”

“Promised Helen we’d be there. I know, I know.” You huff, shaking out of his grasp and fixing his bowtie with a small frown on your face as you mumble, “I thought you F1 drivers would be into breaking the rules, but no, I had to find the only decent one.”

Charles chuckles as he places his hands back onto your waist as you continue your mission with a relentless sense of seriousness. “Aw, you think I’m decent?”

An urgency to smile snakes up onto your lips because of his question but you try to refrain yourself from doing so by twisting your lip, “Shut up, Charles.”

“I think you’re decent as well,” he takes a moment to think with an exaggerated expression, “pretty, too.”

You smile at your handiwork as you pat his bowtie twice and place your hands on the sides of your hips. “Is this your way of saying I look nice?”

He shakes his head and starts walking you towards the door, picking up your coat and bag, and ignoring your protests along the way. “But, yes of course. However, we need to go right now if you don’t want to make Helen angry at you for being late.”

“At me?” You ask, confused.

Charles laughs. “Well, yes, chérie. She loves me too much to get mad at me. You’ll have fun once we go inside.”

By the time the two of you arrive at the gala, Charles has managed to uplift your mood (mostly by promising you pizza and sweets after the two of your leave the event). When you get to Royal Albert Hall, Helen welcomes you with a big smile and open arms. The three of you decide to grab drinks together at the bar and talk about the event, your latest recording deal, Charles’ upcoming season, and Helen’s new client who is a “twat-waffle in skinny jeans, but don’t worry about me, honey, I’ve seen worse.” She leaves the two of you to welcome newcomers, who are probably looking at her to congratulate her on the event. You place your glass on the bar and turn to face Charles, who is looking at you with a small smirk on his face.

You sigh exaggeratedly and tilt your head to the side. “Fine, you were right, this is fun.”

He matches your sigh, although with a lighter tone to it. “I know, I love being right.” He quickly finishes the rest of his drink and gets up from his place to offer you his hand. “Now, chérie, allons-nous danser?” Shall we dance? You nod your head, giggling as you take his hand and allow him to pull you onto the dance floor. With the alcohol coursing through your veins, you think this might be the perfect night.

You and Charles dance through what feels like a hundred songs, but in reality, you lose the count after the third slow-paced song because the DJ decides he’s had enough of the slow songs for the evening and moves onto the fast-paced ones. Both of you jump up and down to the rhythm of the music as best as you can in your choice of heels for the evening, and Charles is there with you to do the same. He nudges your shoulder and wiggles his eyebrows when the DJ decides to play one of your recent songs, not shy to let the people around you know that it is your song. “That’s my girlfriend’s song!” he says, “Yes! It’s the new one!”

After the previous song finishes, the two of you decide to retire for a bit, walking out onto the balcony to get some fresh air. You turn to Charles when you hear him chuckling and find him shaking his head. “Hey, what are you laughing at?”

“You look like a tomato, mon amour.” He’s quick to add, “A very cute one at that.”

You let out a shocked gasp, swatting lightly at his chest to cease his laughs. “It’s not funny! I never make fun of you after your races, even if you do look like a tomato.”

“That is not true, and you know it.” His laughter continues, making you join him and soon after both of you are laughing uncontrollably; with you leaning against the railing of the balcony and him with his arms placed on either side of you to cage you in. After your laughter dies down, leaving you both in heaving breaths in to calm yourselves, he shrugs off his jacket and gently places it onto your shoulders.

You gaze up at him, softly smiling through your lashes. “Thank you, my love.”

You press your lips against the corner of his mouth, but he is quick to capture your lips in his, and his eyes are the last thing before you close yours as he starts kissing you. His hands quickly start moving and he drags them up your body to cradle your face between his hands as he deepens the kiss. You let out an involuntary whimper, in which he responds by gently tugging at your lower lip. In an attempt to bring him closer, you slip your fingers through the belt loops of his dress pants, which thankfully is not occupied by a belt. Charles’ response is to bring your face even closer as he keeps kissing you. The two of you don’t realise the sound of footsteps coming from behind you.

“Oh, God, sorry.” A voice interrupts, and you quickly separate from each other, albeit a little bit unwillingly. You inhale deeply to regulate your irregular breathing, and let out a gasp as your eyes fall onto the intruder. Just as you are about to open your mouth, he beats you to it. “I can’t believe it, hi Y/N, it’s been ages!”

Although Charles’ eyebrows furrow, he keeps his gaze focused on you only to turn around to face the intruder once you say, “Hi, Harry, it’s been a while!” He gives him a once over, keeping his hands on your waist as the two of you talk about the lost time. And yes, while Charles can be a jealous man – just like any other guy in a relationship who is as besotted with their partner as he is with you – he never considers himself to be possessive. He even likes Harry’s music, he mostly encounters the songs at the paddock before a race or after while doing media stuff, but he doesn’t have any issues regarding his music or him in general just because he is dating you because he is secure in your relationship to know just how much you love and respect him and the same goes for you. But standing there with you leaning against him while talking to your ex-boyfriend, yes he know he is your ex-boyfriend like the rest of the world thanks to your very public break-up, he just wants to take you away from there any to anywhere where the two of you can be alone.

You leap off the railing you were leaning against when you feel Charles’ hands tightening on your waist and move one of your hands to cover his as you give him a slight squeeze. “This is Charles, my boyfriend.”

He watches as you give him a polite smile and attempts to do the same, but it reality his probably comes-off as a strained one. Harry offers him a handshake as he smiles at him, “Hello, nice to meet you.” And then, he watches as the Brit turns his attention once against to you.

“We missed you at the awards this season, you didn’t attend any of them!” Harry chuckles, shaking his head a little.

You shrug and answer him with the same polite smile on your face. “Well, you know me, never been fan of the award shows in the first place.”

Charles knows this, of course he does, because whenever someone starts to ask you about award season in the first place, you let them know that the awards are not the reason you write songs in the first place – the fans are. He tunes most of your conversation out as his insecurities take over his thoughts, he thinks it is funny in a way because your relationship might be the only one where he has felt like he could be himself without worrying about what you might think. Just as he is about the calm his fears by the logical side of his brain reasoning and telling him that he should probably stop acting like a fool, he hears Harry asking you about a song on your album which makes him throw all the rationality he has out the metaphorical window.

“I-uh, I listened to your new album, it was very good.” Harry says.

A wide smile finds a place on your face. “Oh, thank you, Harry! It’s nice to hear that.”

“Yeah, yeah. I liked that one song the most, what’s it called, How You Get the Girl?” He thinks quietly for a split second. “Oh whatever – it was very good. But tell me the truth, was it or was it not about me?”

“Sorry, can’t tell you that, it’s a secret.” You laugh. And he laughs. And Charles only watches the scene before him without being able to say anything because he is swarmed by all the thoughts he tried so hard pushing out of his head coming back. You must’ve notice his drastic change in mood because you excuse the two of you saying that you’re feeling a little bit cold.

“Oh sure, it was nice seeing you again.” Harry smiles at you, and then addresses Charles, “It was also nice meeting you, Charles. Take care of my girl, eh?”

“You too, Henry.” Charles replies, without filtering his response in his head and hangs his head low to avoid any awkwardness.

You wait until the Brit leaves the balcony and then focus on the man in front of you, “Charles–” you start, but he cuts you off with a low voice.

“Can we just go home?” He inhales deeply. “Please.”

Needless to say, the car ride home is quiet and tense. Charles acts like he doesn’t care, but you know deep inside that he is bothered by what happened and is probably overthinking the entire situation. The one thing you are grateful for is the fact that you didn’t drive to the venue but instead opted for a car service, thinking that you’d both be drunk by the time event ended. However in reality, neither of you are drunk and you are fairly sure Helen is going to send you a very angry text the next morning because you left early. When the driver announces that you’ve arrived at the hotel, Charles thanks him before exiting the car and you do the same before you lean over to open your door, but Charles is quicker than you and he does it for you.

He is quiet the entire way up to your hotel room, but he has an arm around you and you place your hand right on top of his in an attempt to sooth whatever negative emotions he is feeling at the moment. He is also quiet when you get to your room, and he helps you pull off your coat and his jacket underneath the coat. He smiles for a split second, seeing his oversized jacket on your frame, but the seriousness returns as he helps you out of it.

“Charles,” you say his name, “please talk to me.”

“I’m okay, chérie.” He sighs and places a small kiss to you forehead. “I’m going to take a shower before bed, okay?” He leaves before giving you an opportunity to speak, and you are left behind, thinking about the last time he called you that pet name a few hours ago, and how he was smiling.

Instead of pushing him to talk about his feelings you decide to let him cool down, hoping that he would be more open to having a conversation about what happened after his shower. So, you take of your shoes and your dress – although you struggle to find the zipper for a while – and you take of your make up on the small vanity the hotel provided for you after you put on your pyjamas for the night. By the time Charles is out of his shower, you are waiting for him sat on the edge of the bed, playing with your fingers.

“I thought you’d be sleeping by now.” He mumbles, weaving his hands through his wet hair.

You can’t help the small frown etching on your face. “We never go to bed angry at each other.”

You can see the change in his eyes, but even though his eyes soften at the sight of you, his tone is firm when he tells you, “I’m not angry at you, Y/N.”

“See, I find it hard to believe that right about now.” You mumble, your eyes falling on your lap for a second.

He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Just go to sleep, okay? We’ll talk in the morning.”

“What? Why?” You ask, your voice wavering at the last syllable. “Where are you going?”

“I’m just going to go over some statistics in the living room.” He doesn’t look at you, or let you protest. He picks up his computer from the abandoned backpack in the corner of the room and presses another light kiss to your forehead before going into the living room to try to get rid of the anger by working it off.

And thus, you try to go to sleep – mainly because you know just how stubborn Charles is. His mother always tells you stories about when he was a kid and refused to go to bed in his pyjamas because he didn’t want to take off his karting suit. But you see how much he’s stubborn every single day, when he makes you get out of bed in crack-dawn of the day because you told him you wanted to start exercising with a “no, mon amour, you said you wanted to start running!”, or when he makes you eat your vegetables because “you can’t live off of chicken nuggets for the rest of your life, you’re in your twenties!”. But most importantly, you see how stubborn he is every time he pushes himself to be better; a better man, a better son, a better driver and even a better boyfriend. So, it breaks your heart to think that he is outside the doors of the bedroom, alone and contemplating things he shouldn’t have to because he knows just how much you love him. So, you get out of the bed, which isn’t very hard in the first place because it feels too empty and cold without Charles in it, and you march your way through the bedroom doors and into the living room where a certain green-eyed Monegasque driver is hunched over his computer in the low light.

He looks up and his eyes go wide when he spots you, sleep evident in your eyes and there is a permanent pout on your lips. There is a silent communication between the two of you as he pushes his chair slight off the table for you to place yourself on his lap and consequently wrapping yourself around his sitting figure.

“Chérie, you should be sleeping, it’s late.” He speaks in a low voice, encouraging you to go to sleep, but you know him well enough to read between the lines.

Your voice comes of muffled because you cuddle against the side of his neck. “I couldn’t sleep because someone refuses to talk about his feelings and made me become accustomed to his cuddles over the past year and a half.”

“Mon amour,” he sighs, “I am fine, you don’t have to worry about me. Okay?”

There isn’t any emotional strain in his voice, unlike before, but you still don’t like the fact that he refuses to acknowledge his feelings. So instead of pushing, you pick your head up again and focus on his green eyes, “You called me by my name, and you never call me by my name unless I’ve done something wrong.”

“That’s not true.” His voice comes off as a whisper this time.

“It is and you know it.” You untangle one of your arms from around his neck to cradle his jaw and let your finger wander around. “Please tell me what I’ve done wrong so that I can fix it.” You think for a moment. “S'il vous plait.” Please.

Charles lets out a frustrated breath and tightens his arms around your frame – involuntarily, or maybe not, but who cares, really? “It’s mine,” He grumbles.

“What is?” You ask, tilting your head with genuine curiosity.

“The song.” Now it is Charles’ turn to pout. “It’s my song, you wrote it for me. I was there when you recorded it and you told me so.”

“Oh, Charles.” You coo, bringing your other hand up to his face and gently caressing his face as you straighten yourself up on his lap. “It is about you, my love, he was just joking.”

You let out a chuckle as you hear him mumble, “Well, it wasn’t funny to me.”

“Is this about more than the song?” You ask, continuing the movement of your hands. You smile as he lets out a dissenting mumble, “Good, because I would hate it if you thought I have eyes for anyone other than you.”

“You would?” He mumbles, leaning into your touch.

“Oh yes, I would be very upset.” You nod, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips. “And Charles?” You ask.

“Yes, chérie?” He asks right back, his eyes not leaving yours even for a moment.

“I’m sorry for making you feel that way.”

“It’s not your fault,” His eyes become serious for a second again, but they soften at the sight of you quickly. “Don’t blame yourself, chérie.” He mumbles as he kisses you softly on your lips. “Okay?”

“But still,” You mumble, “I’m sorry for making you feel that way.”

He sighs, but it is not a sad sigh like before. Which makes you think it is an improvement. “I’m sorry I can’t write songs about you.”

“What?” You ask, voice shaky. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not– I can’t put my feelings into words that way.” His hands occupy themselves with the string of your pyjama pants.

“I don’t need you to write me songs, Charles, and I don’t want you to change.” You press soft kisses around his face, making him smile involuntarily. “I love you just the way you are, you stubborn stubborn man.” You thing he’s about to say something, but can’t finish your train of thought because suddenly you’re being lifted off the chair and you’re in the air. You let out a shriek, “What are you doing?”

“Taking you to bed,” Charles replies, and rolls his eyes as your expression changes. “To sleep,” he emphasises the second word, “méchante fille” naughty girl. You laugh as he puts you back on your side of the and tucks you in before turning off the lights and getting into the bed himself. He is quick to pull you towards his arms and cuddle you under his weight, which you’ve become accustomed to and helps you sleep better. “Go to sleep, mon amour.” He kisses you on your forehead again.

“Charles?” You ask into the night, and continue once he lets out an affirmative hum. “Je t'aime.” I love you.

“Je t'aime aussi, mon amour.” I love you too, my love. You hear him say as you’re falling to sleep. “Tu es l'amour de ma vie.” You’re the love of my life.

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #harry styles makes an apperance

2K notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 1 year

Text

DECODE

A/N: okay wow, it's actually here, but let me say a ew things first: i am no it proessional so there are some made up stuff so don't come after me if there are untrue things in the story lmao. also, the ending... im not entirely in peace with it, but i've been sitting on this story for way too long so i just bit my tongue and finised it. don't come after me if you don't like it... but anyway! hope it didn't turn out as bad and you'll enjoy the story!

WORD COUNT: 13.7k

SUMMARY: You're up for the promotion you've always dreamt about, but right when you need to prove everything goes downhill. Lucky for you the cute, quiet IT guy, Harry, is there to help you out.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

There’s that feeling when you wake all by yourself, a moment of peace takes over you for not starting the day off with your one true enemy, the alarm, but then panic instantly stabs you in the chest when you realize it’s a weekday and there’s absolutely no way you just woke up before your alarm, feeling this rested.

Your eyes pop open and you sit up in a frenzy looking around in the room, figuring out what happened and what should be done now. First you check the time on your phone and when you see that it reads 8:32 you almost start crying, but there’s no time for that, so you jump out of bed and sprint into the bathroom, stopping on the way when you spot Eric in the hallway, fully dressed, ready to leave.

“Eric?! Why didn’t you wake me up?!” you snap at him. He turns to you with innocence all over his face.

“I thought you were off today,” he simply says.

“Off?! We have the board meeting today, how could I be off!” you practically scream as you rush into the bathroom to get ready in less than two minutes hopefully.

“I’m sorry!” he calls out from outside. “I’ll see you in the office!”

And the next thing you hear is the front door opening and closing.

“Motherfu…” you mumble as you start washing your face like a crazy woman.

You leave in ten minutes, but you’re fifteen minutes late already, no matter how magically fast you got ready. You don’t have time to get a bagel for breakfast and you’re already halfway into the office when you realize you left your lunch at home too. You somehow shorten the route and win a few minutes on your way in, but you still arrive ten minutes late, looking like a hot mess, completely out of control as you make your way to the twentieth floor to your desk, pretending you haven’t just had the absolute worst morning of your life.

The elevator almost closes right in front of you, but before you could smash against the sliding doors a hand sticks out and stops it, letting you slip in last minute.

“Ah, thank you,” you breathe out, your purse sliding off your shoulder and your folder almost falls from your hands.

“N-No problem,” a sweet and smooth voice answers, but your hair is such a mess, it covers your vision and you don’t see the kind man that saved you a few minutes with his move. The moment the elevator arrives to your floor you jump out and rush towards your desk.

“You alright, boss?” Zaya, your intern asks, who is more like a personal assistant at this point. She eyes you curiously from her desk as you gasp for air and try to soothe out the wrinkles on your blouse, though there’s absolutely no use in it.

“Everything is perfectly fine,” you force a smile on your face as you start your computer, emails flowing in like crazy the moment you open your inbox. “Just had a rough morning.”

With Zaya’s help you go through everything at light speed, it’s one of your biggest strengths, being fast and productive, so in just about twenty minutes you reduce the thirty-seven unread emails to just two.

You’ve cleared your schedule beforehand so you can have a practice run for your big presentation. Today’s board meeting is gonna be an important one. There’s a promotion at risk, one you’ve been working your ass off to get and now it’s so close, you can almost feel it between your fingertips. This presentation and what stands behind it all is what you’ve worked for night and day for the past month and you have never been more confident in yourself, though you can’t shake the general nervousness off.

You make your test run to Zaya who says her mind is blown and there’s no chance you won’t get the promotion.

“You got it, boss,” she fist bumps you, something you’ve grown to like, it’s her form of appreciation.

“I hope so,” you sigh. “Alright, I’ll grab a coffee quickly before the meeting.”

You head a few levels down to the main kitchen area that has the best coffee machine in the building. It’s already past the morning rush, so you’re delighted to see that there are just a few people lingering around. Including Eric.

“Hey!” you huff out a smile as you stand next to him at the coffee machine. He peeks at you, just a tiny smile on his lips, but it doesn’t reach his eyes like usual.

“Hey.”

“If you’re curious, I was only just a bit late this morning,” you chuckle to yourself, grabbing a cup while Eric waits for his own coffee to get ready.

“Mm, great. Sorry about… the morning.”

“It’s okay, are you nervous? About the presentation?”

Funny enough you’re running for the promotion against Eric, the guy you’ve been hooking up for the past few months. It’s nothing serious, no strings attached, mostly just sex, though you believe that if you spend at least three nights together every week and spend time outside of bed as well, that has to mean more than just a regular hook up.

Right?

“Not really,” he shrugs, but it doesn’t sound genuine.

“It’s okay, you’ll do good,” you smile at him warmly as you place your hand on his arm and give it a squeeze, but you’re surprised when he moves out of your touch, shooting you a look.

“Not… in the office, Y/N,” he grits through his teeth, looking around to check if anyone saw the tiny gesture while you’re just blinking at him dumbly.

Yes, you usually keep your… whatever it is out of the office, but he hasn’t been this distant to you before. Before you could ask his phone starts ringing and he mumbles an apology before running off.

You write it off as nerves, you know Eric to be highly competitive, it must be a new field for him as well, running against someone he is involved with.

Your heart is racing when you enter the boardroom, welcoming the people that will decide your future at the company, the CEO, the CFO, the head of marketing and a few others you’re not that familiar with, but you know they have power.

For the promotion you had to come up with a plan to boost the numbers on the website that hasn’t been doing much lately. You worked up a plan for a marketing strategy that would reach the target audience in a better way, it’s pretty awesome, you’re quite proud of it and you’re convinced you’ll kick ass with your presentation.

There are a few more minutes left until the meeting, you pour yourself some water and go ahead to open your slides on your computer so you have it all ready when it’s your turn.

“What… Oh no,” you whisper, when your computer starts lagging and the cursor freezes. “No, no, no!”

“Everything alright, Miss?” the CFO notices your panic.

“Yes!” you force a smile on your face. “Everything is… perfect.”

He nods and turns back to his previous conversation while your panic intensifies. You keep pushing buttons and trying to move the cursor, but it looks pretty dead, so you decide to shut it down and try to restart it, hopefully it will come back from the dead.

Eric strides into the room, but as he takes his seat he doesn’t even look at you, just sets out his own laptop and paper notes and stares ahead of him. No matter how you try to catch his attention, he ignores you fully and it’s just another punch in your stomach.

What the hell is happening?

“Alright, everyone ready?” Daniel, the CEO claps his hands together. “Eric, you’re up first,” he gestures at him and while you’re still desperately trying to revive your computer.

Eric sets up and when his presentation appears behind him your stomach drops instantly.

The title, the topic, the colors… everything. You know all of it, because… because you made it. It’s yours.

You forget about your computer as Eric starts talking and he presents your idea, everything you came up with and worked hard on, he hasn’t changed a bit about it and now he is making it look like it’s his own. If you were panicking before now you’re about to set on fire.

That would be probably nice, because you wouldn’t have to go up there and most likely embarrass yourself.

How did he get your presentation? Why did he steal it? You can’t blame him just out of the blue, you need proof and right now the only device that could have it is dead in front of you.

You are so screwed.

“ Holy fucking shit, oh my God!” you keep mumbling under your breath as you approach your desk, holding your dead computer to your chest, eyes wide from what you just went through.

“Boss? You alright?” Zaya’s eyes widen when she sees you all shocked and traumatized.

“No! I’m anything but alright!”

Luckily, the small meeting room near your desk is vacant so you’re quick to take it, Zaya following you right after, shutting the door closed so you can unleash fully.

“Oh my God I can’t fucking believe him! The asshole! How did he fucking do it?!” you snap, throwing everything to the table so you can anxiously start pacing the floor with your hands on your hips. “I cannot believe this, what the hell!”

“Y/N, what happened? You’re starting to scare me,” Zaya eyes you and she actually looks scared which is a new thing, the girl is fearless.

“Eric! He stole my… my whole fucking presentation!” you whisper-yell, throwing your hands up into the air. “Every slide! Every detail! It was all mine! And he sold it as his own!”

“W-what? But… how? And what did you present then?”

“I have no idea! He was up first, as we all knew ahead of time, he went up there, opened his presentation and it was mine! I thought I was about to fall off my seat, fucking hell,” you groan, rubbing your face with your hands. Thanks to your rushed morning you’re not wearing any makeup today so at least you can’t turn yourself into a panda bear. “My laptop died right before the meeting started so I could use it as an excuse and… fuck, I made up a whole other plan on the spot!” You’re about to start hyperventilating, maybe even crying which you’ve never ever done at work before.

“But… that’s good, right? That you came up with something new?” Zaya tries to see the bright side of it, but you shake your head violently.

“You know what I came up with? I said I’m planning to rebuild the whole fucking website! All of it!”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes! I basically set myself up for failure!”

Everyone knows a full makeover could easily be a death sentence, especially with such a short notice. You have no structure to it, no plan and most importantly no IT support to do the actual work. Because you can dream up any idea, but you cannot actually write the code for it.

Zaya tries to cheer you up but you both know you’re not only knee high, but probably neck high in deep shit. She promises to take up extra hours to help you figure out what to do and though it’s nice, the situation still feels pretty much lost.

You’re on the verge of tears when you make your way to the IT department to have your computer checked out, which is still pretty much dead. You’re already dreading the interaction, Steven, the head of the IT department is a real pain in the ass, he never wants to actually help with anything so it’s always a fight to get things done with him.

When you walk into their office he is the first one you see and you almost groan out loud, but manage to keep quiet as you approach him.

“Hi Steven, do you happen to have a moment?” you ask, as politely and nicely as you can in the light of what just happened, but apparently it’s not enough for him, because the look he gives you makes you want to turn around and run away.

“What’s the matter?” he grimaces, fixing his glasses as he leans back in his seat.

“My laptop just died,” you hold up the device.

He stares at you, then at your laptop and then his eyes flicker back to you and he stays silent for what feels like forever before he speaks up.

“I have no time for this now,” he says, returning to his own computer and your shoulders fall forward in defeat, but then he speaks up again. “Go to the back and ask for Styles.”

“Thank you,” you breathe out and are already on your way away from his desk.

Maneuvering between the desks you’re trying to find out who’s Styles or who to even ask to tell you where to find him and you’re just about to stop at one of the desks when you see a big screen, a sticker on the back of it that says H. Styles, so you make your way over there.

As you’re approaching the desk a head full of chocolate curls appear and soon you spot the guy sitting behind the screen, peering up at you with curious, green eyes from behind his glasses.

“Are you… Styles?” you ask, feeling weird that you only know his family name. He stares at you for a second with wide eyes and you start to think you’ve got the wrong guy, but then he nods, the curls bouncing along with the movement.

“Y-yeah. I’m Harry Styles.”

“Great! Steven said you might be able to have a look at my computer, it’s completely dead.”

“Sure,” he clears his throat as he pushes back from the desk while you round it to give the laptop to him. “W-what happened?” he asks as he opens it up and tries to turn it on, but the screen remains black.

“Um, basically it froze right before the most important presentation of my life and then it died and hasn't turned on since then,” you summarize with a sad smile as you watch him grab some kind of cable to connect your laptop with his computer.

Harry hums as he opens some kind of program that has a long, complicated looking code running in front of him and he clicks and searches in it so easily as if he was reading a children’s book.

“Is it fully dead?” you ask after a couple of minutes.

“No, but you got a virus, it might take some time to restore everything and some files might not make it, I’m sorry.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling like crying again, but you manage to swallow them back as you lean against the edge of Harry’s desk. He looks up at you like a frightened kid.

“I-I can try to get everything back, I promise, it’s just that–”

“No, I know it’s not up to you. Thank you though. I’m just on the verge of… would it be weird if I started screaming right now?” you ask rhetorically as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

“I can set up another one for you to use with all the access cloned from yours, but you won’t have the files in the meantime.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.”

“Is there any file in particular you want me to try to recover?”

“There’s this folder that would be nice if I had it, here, this is the name,” you say as you grab a post-it and a pen and scribble the name down with all the files in it.

“Okay, I will try to restore it. Give me a few minutes to set your replacement computer up.”

Nodding sadly you wait by Harry’s desk, watching him work on his computer like it’s an instrument and he is pretty much a professional. You know nothing about programming, but Harry seems like a wizard, you have no idea why Steven makes him deal with all the tiny things when he could pretty much redeem the world.

“Here, this is the password, everything is set up,” he hands you the new computer.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll give you an email when I have something about your old one.”

“Okay, my address is–”

“I know, I just… I literally just logged you into your account,” he reminds me with a shy smile and you realize he’s right.

“Oh. I forgot. Well, thank you so much, Harry. And I’m sorry you have to deal with it now.”

“It’s fine, I’m the newest on the team, this is how it goes. Rookies get to deal with all the device issues,” he chuckles shortly.

You nod with a sympathetic smile and pay one last look to your savior. He looks young, around your age, but he’s sporting a slight stubble that adds some harshness to his otherwise boyish face. He’s got kind eyes behind his glasses, the prettiest pink lips you’ve ever seen on a man and his curls are screaming to be touched, though you’re not sure HR would take it well if you were just walking around the office, touching people’s hair. Oddly, it wouldn’t be the first time they would have to deal with a situation like this. Bobby DeMarco was a weird dude who worked in sales and he had an even weirder obsession with playing with women’s hair randomly. He didn’t last too long at the company, luckily.

When you return to your desk it takes everything in you to focus on working and A, not find Eric to claw his eyes out and B, not anxiously wait to hear anything from the board about today’s meeting. They are supposed to give feedback today and approve if you can continue working on your project and they can easily just kick you out of the whole thing as well. If that happened Eric would still have to prove himself to be a good fit for the role, but you’d have no chance to ever step up at the company.

You’re a mess, to say the least. You’re panicking over having to do a full website makeover in just a month, you have no idea where you stand with Eric and honestly, you’re torn between never wanting to talk to him and also screaming at him until your lungs give up.

God, your sister will be so mad, she was right! Jeanie warned you. She said it right at the beginning when you started hooking up with Eric that it’s not gonna end well, but you thought she was talking about being dumped eventually, not getting your promotion stolen from you!

When Zaya comes up to you with a question later in the day you’re still so shaken up you can barely make out an answer for her.

“I think you should report it,” she suggests, holding her notebook to her chest.

“And what do I have as proof? My computer is totally dead with all the evidence I made the presentation,” you groan, leaning back in your seat.

“Let’s hope the hot IT guy can restore everything.”

“Hot?” you chuckle. “How do you know he’s hot?”

“You said it’s Harry doing it, right? Curly hair, glasses?” You nod. “I know him, he is definitely hot,” she shrugs smirking, shifting her weight to one leg. “You know what would be nice? Hooking up with him to get revenge on Eric!”

“H-Hooking up? Why would Eric care about who I hook up with?” you clear your throat, pretending like you haven’t had a thing going on with Eric these past months. Zaya gives you a look that clearly says you shouldn’t think she’s stupid and blind.

“Please, Y/N.”

Sighing you roll your eyes as you give up the act.

“Judging from the betrayal Eric gives absolutely no shit about me.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” she shrugs just when your computer pings, signaling two new emails in your inbox.

One from the board and one from Harry.

“Oh shit,” you gasp as you lean forward so fast you almost fall off your seat and Zaya runs behind your desk to see what’s happening as you open the email from the board.

Your eyes skim over the lines several times before you finally process what was written in it.

They approved your plan. You’re still up for the promotion.

“Congrats! You made it!” Zaya cheers.

“Fuck,” you whisper under your breath.

“What’s wrong? I thought this was what you wanted.”

“The chance and the promotion? Yes. But now I have to do a full website makeover in a month which is practically impossible.”

You’re still moping and silently panicking when you’re approaching Harry’s desk for the second time today. When he sees you he jumps to his feet and you almost break a smile because he looks like a puppy for a second, but then you see that he has taken his sweatshirt off, wearing only a simple black t-shirt that puts his tattoo littered arms on display.

Fuck, Zaya was right. He really is kinda hot.

“Hey,” he waves at you when you finally reach his desk.

“Hi, how did it go?” you ask with a deep breath.

“Actually kinda good, I could save most of your stuff,” he says as he sits back and you walk behind his desk, seeing your laptop still wired to his computer. “I saved the files onto a harddrive, but I don’t recommend you to keep using the laptop, it’s… it’s pretty fried,” he chuckles, pushing the glasses further up on the bridge of his nose and for a moment you just stare at his side profile instead of focusing on what he’s showing you on his screen.

“Uh, that’s okay, I’ll be fine with the files,” you clear your throat.

“So um… I don’t know if it matters or not, but I-I thought you might want to know that you didn’t just get the virus because you clicked on something, it was… well, someone put it on your computer and it started attacking the firmware.”

You blink a few times as you process his words and then it all starts to make sense.

“What do you mean someone put it on my computer?”

“Well, there was a malware hidden on your computer that basically attacked the firmware which made it impossible for you to use the laptop and it also attacked the files saved, I found an implanted code that was giving access to–”

“Harry, I don’t really understand what you’re saying,” you remind him, his words sounding absolutely foreign to you.

“Sorry,” he breathes out with a nod. “So basically, the virus stopped your computer from working and it also gave access to a third party to reach your files.”

“So someone could use my files?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

You feel like fainting again, because now it all makes sense. And you’re starting to see red.

“Can you see what files they messed with?”

“Actually, I’m glad you asked,” he smiles proudly. “I was able to find everything they duplicated and there’s a folder they tried to get rid of, but I restored it.”

“Is it by any chance the folder I gave the name to you?”

“It is,” he nods, his fingers starting to type on his keyboard at lightspeed. “Here. See these lines?” he asks, pointing at a code you understand nothing of, but you nod. “It’s basically something they should have paid attention to if they wanted to leave no trace, but I found it so now we know what they were trying to put their hands on. I even have time stamps too. The virus was on your computer for a while and then it was activated to attack the firmware today.”

This is all like a movie, it feels like you’re in Mission Impossible or James Bond, except it’s not a great villain who is working against you but the guy you trusted to let into your bed. The guy you considered your friend and even something more than just that lately.

You made a mistake, you see it now and you want to dwell on it but you know you have no time for that, you have to keep moving forward.

“Do you know who did it?”

“Unfortunately, no. I could only get proof if I had access to the other person’s computer who was hacking yours. I’m sorry.”

Harry seems genuinely sad, as if he failed, but he did so much for you already.

“It’s okay. Thank you so much, can you… like, make a record of all these? So we have all this as proof at least.”

“Already done,” he nods. “Do you want me to file a report?”

“No. No need for that,” you shake your head. “But… I want to ask a favor from you. I know we barely know each other and you probably have a lot of work, so feel free to say no.”

“What is it?”

“Do you want to help me redesign our whole website?”

You’re anxiously chewing on your bottom lip as you wait for the Skype call to be answered, your sister’s name flashing on the screen until her pixelated face replaces it.

And she looks mad, just as you expected.

“Y/N, I told you so! I literally told you so!” she starts off, the voice cracks a bit as the call stabilizes.

“Can we skip the part where you tell me off like a child for hooking up with a coworker who ended up fucking me over?” you flash a smile, but she rolls her eyes at you, leaning back on her couch, her right side getting more illuminated by the lamp beside her couch. It’s past seven in the evening in Tokyo while it’s just six am for you. For the past six months this has been your usual, trying to call each other at a time that’s reasonable for the both of you with the insane thirteen hours of time difference. It’s definitely a hard task and sometimes you have to plan a call days, even weeks ahead.

“No, because I’m so mad!” she groans. “Mostly at the fucker, but you as well!”

“I really don’t need to hear how much I fucked up,” you mumble, looking down at your lap.

“Sorry,” she sighs, realizing she is making you feel even guiltier. “I’m just… you worked so hard for this and now he is ruining it.”

“I’m still up for the promotion,” you shrug.

“Yeah, but you said it’s almost impossible to do what you presented.”

“Well, things are looking a bit better now.”

She listens intently as you tell her about what Harry found on your computer and how you ended up asking him to help you out. You truly didn’t think he would say yes, but he didn’t even think about it before agreeing. So now you have the IT part covered by him, you just have to come up with all the rest.

“This Harry guy…” Sammy starts and you hold up your hand.

“Don’t give me the speech again, I learned my lesson.”

“No, actually I wanted to say that I like him.”

“For real?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

“I mean, he is willing to work an immense amount of extra time on your project and he basically has no benefit from it. I hope you do realize how big of a sacrifice he is making for your promotion.”

You knew how big of a deal it has been from Harry to help you out but now that Sammy said it out loud, realization hits. It’s not right he gets nothing out of it, so you note to yourself to go over it with him when you meet him in the morning for your first planning session.

“I’ll talk to him about it. Now let’s talk about something else.”

Harry was afraid he wouldn’t be able to wake up so early in the morning and make it into the office for the meeting with you, but it turns out his excitement to be working with you is kicking him out of bed even before his alarm goes off.

He does his usual morning routine, shower, get dressed, breakfast and checking he has everything he needs in his backpack for the day and then he’s on his way. When he walks into the café that’s two blocks away from his apartment the bell gently chimes above his head, catching the attention of the owner, Frida.

“Harry! You’re up early today!” she greets him with a beaming smile, her grey hair is in her signature low bun, her blue eyes twinkling at the sight of him.

“I have an early meeting,” he mumbles with a shy smile, the tip of his ears turning red and she doesn’t miss it, but she knows how closed off he is so she doesn’t even try to tease her about it.

“The usual?”

“Um, yeah, but can you make it two?”

“Of course,” she nods with a knowing smile, her suspicion is getting proven that this early meeting is with someone special.

The two chat lightly while Friday makes the coffees to go, handing the paper cups to Harry once they’re done.

“Have a lovely day, Harry,” she waves after him and he nods back, pushing the door open with his hips, a cup in each of his hands.

He can’t deny there’s a pep in his step as he enters the building that’s eerily empty so early in the morning. He did not expect his day to take such an unexpected turn yesterday. He’s seen you around the office a few times before but he knew nothing about you, just that your laughter is ridiculously contagious. Then you jumped into the elevator with him in the morning, looking a bit messy but very pretty nevertheless. He could only blink as the elevator sped up and moments later you were out of sight.

But then you strolled into the IT department with your ruined computer and he finally learned your name. While he wanted to help with your laptop as much and fast as possible, he was also dreading the moment you’d pick the harddrive up with all your files and then never talk to him again. He felt silly, crushing on a woman he only officially met just a few hours before, but he couldn’t help it. Even when you were visibly stressed and worried he thought you were enchanting.

He was not expecting you to ask for his help, but luckily his brain clicked instantly and agreed without hesitation. For one, he’s been dealing with boring projects as the rookie on the team and this seems like a great challenge for him.

On the other hand, he would have said yes to anything you asked him, literally.

So now as he walks into the meeting room where you’re supposed to meet his excitement is mixed with some anxiety, because as much as he is curious about this project he is nervous to spend so much time with you all of a sudden. He can only hope he won’t seem like a freak to you.

Thanks to the early Skype session with Sammy you’re on time too, arriving to the office building just minutes after Harry. He’s setting his laptop up when you arrive, his head snapping up when you approach the desk and take the seat next to him.

“Morning,” you smile at him warmly.

“Good morning,” he smiles back, fixing his glasses to sit straight before reaching for the extra cup of coffee. “Um, I brought you this. Actually, I realized too late that I don’t know how you like your coffee, so y-you don’t have to drink it…”

“Oh! That’s very kind, thank you! I drink coffee however I can,” you chuckle. “I just need the caffeine.”

You see a small smile flash across his face before he returns to his computer while you settle next to him.

“Before we start, I wanted to go over something with you.” Harry turns to you curiously as you try to figure out what to even say. “This is a huge thing and I know it needs a lot of time and work. I don’t feel comfortable letting you do it without getting anything for the work you do.”

“Oh, I-I don’t need anything, I’m glad to help.”

“That’s very kind, but it still doesn’t feel fair. If there is anything I can do for you, literally anything, just feel free to ask. I would feel better if I knew you’re getting your reward for your work.”

Harry thinks about it for a few seconds before nodding to himself.

“Do I have to come up with something now?”

“No,” you chuckle. “Just promise me you’ll think of some way I can pay you back.”

“Okay.”

In the next hour you learn two things. One, working with Harry is incredibly easy. He is efficient, communicates well and simply a great at teamwork, it’s like a breath of fresh air after some of the people you’ve previously worked with.

The other thing you learn is that he is incredibly smart and it makes him very… sexy.

God, you shouldn’t be having these thoughts after what happened with Eric, but you’re not immune to a good-looking man with so much knowledge, especially when it’s in IT. You know nothing about coding and when he pulls up his miles long codes, types quietly for a few minutes and then shows you what he did, explaining to you the science behind it… it’s making you feel things you shouldn’t be. It’s so attractive when someone knows so much about something and they’re passionate and devoted to the field. It’s clear that Harry’s field is programming and he is ridiculously good at it.

You were afraid the task would turn out to be impossible and every time he spends just a little more time silently staring at his code you’re expecting him to give up and tell you he can’t do it.

But he comes up with something every time and by the time the meeting ends you feel oddly enthusiastic and optimistic about the whole makeover that was scaring you to death just yesterday.

“Harry, you are… truly a life saver,” you sigh contently as you lean back in your seat, a long list of tasks on your screen, but you can actually see the light at the end of the tunnel now.

“I’m happy to help,” he smiles shyly, nodding to himself.

“Do not forget about the payment, I really want to pay it all back to you.”

“I won’t, I promise,” he chuckles softly.

“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Tomorrow,” he confirms before packing up his stuff and leaving.

You stay in your seat for a little longer, just having a break before starting your actual work day. Opening up your calendar you check what meetings you have today and that’s when you face what you’ve been religiously ignoring since yesterday’s ordeal.

The weekly marketing sync where most of the time it’s just you and Eric, because Dominik, the third person who should be present likes to cancel last minute.

It’s ridiculous that you still haven’t gotten into contact with him. Part of you was expecting him to come to you, to give you any kind of explanation though there is nothing he could have said that would have explained why he did all of that.

It’s been radio silence on his part and now you have to face him and talk to him.

You’d rather throw up in the middle of the office than do it, but you have to suck it up and deal with him.

He is there in the meeting room when you walk in, typing away on his computer like nothing happened, like he didn’t just try to ruin your career.

“Eric?” you call out, your voice sounds a lot more confident than you were expecting luckily.

He looks up, his face remains completely blank and it just angers you even more.

“Hey,” he nods without batting an eye.

“Hey?” you chuckle, as you close the door behind you, shutting you away from the rest of the people outside. “Don’t you have something to say to me?”

“Y/N, do you really want to do this?” he sighs, as if it was tiring to even think about the situation.

“Eric, you stole my whole presentation and sold it as yours!”

“Are you sure about that?”

You’re seeing red. And you’ve never been this close to actually punching someone in the face.

“Of course I’m sure about it! That was my presentation! Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Eric stands from his seat, taking his sweet time as he walks closer, trying to intimidate you with the height difference, which used to work, you even found it hot when he towered over you, but now it’s like his existence is giving you the ick.

“You have no proof, Y/N. And you didn’t say a word at the meeting. That ship has sailed, now it’s time to move on.”

“It was all just a joke to you?”

“I told you at the beginning I didn’t want anything serious, that wasn’t a lie.”

“But did you do it just to fuck my presentation up? We literally started hooking up when the open position was announced.”

“Does it matter?”

“It does!” you laugh in disbelief, tears stinging your eyes, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry because of him.

“Okay,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just wanted to get to know you and see what you’d come up with for the presentation, but then one thing followed the other and… I went with it.” He shrugs and then goes back to his computer like you just discussed the weather and not how he used you and then threw you away.

You can’t hold yourself together any longer, so you turn around and get as far from him as possible as you try not to start sobbing in the middle of the office. Fuck, this shouldn’t hurt this much, but you really trusted him, you thought you could have something serious, you were hoping Sammy wouldn’t be right about him, but she was. Unfortunately.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you approach your desk Zaya is not in today, so it’s pretty calm around your desk, but then you spot someone lingering there.

“Y/N?” Harry sees how shaken you look as you finally reach him at your desk. “A-Are you alright?”

“Hi Harry,” you force a smile out, but you can’t fool anyone with it. “Did we… Do we have a meeting or something?”

“No, I just wanted to show something… Y/N, are you about to cry?””

“N-No,” you shake your head, but your lips are already wobbling and you fail to prove your words right.

“Uh, come on, let’s have a break. Want to come up to the roof?” He gently circles an arm around your shoulders and you let him lead you back to the elevators.

“Roof? We can go out to the roof?” you ask, wiping your tears away.

He doesn’t reply, just makes sure to shield you from the curious eyes as you make your way up to the top of the building. You genuinely didn’t know the roof could be used and when you see Harry push the heavy door open that leads outside you’re guessing it’s not exactly a public spot, but you don’t question it.

It looks just like how a rooftop should look, it’s definitely not open for public use but when Harry leads you over the corner and you see a little bench there, facing the panoramic view, you know you have just found a secret spot.

“Is this where you hide from Steven?” you attempt to joke as you sit down with him.

“Sometimes, yes,” he chuckles. “Not my spot though, I think the janitor comes up here to smoke, but I haven’t run into him yet.”

You sit in silence, Harry gives you time and space to pull yourself together, not rushing you to talk at all and you’re grateful for his patience. Staring ahead at the view you take a few deep breaths, telling yourself not to let Eric’s bullshit get to your head.

“I’m sorry you had to… deal with my tantrum,” you chuckle sadly at last.

“That wasn’t a tantrum,” he smiles softly. “And don’t be sorry, everyone could have a bad day. Want to talk about what happened?”

“I trusted the wrong person,” you purse your lips. “Um, the virus you found on my computer. Someone from the company put it there to fuck up my chances for a promotion I’ve been dreaming of for a long time.”

��What? Are you… are you serious?”

“Yeah and the worst part is that… god, don’t tell anyone, but I’ve been kind of… hooking up with him and he said it was all just to get closer to me.”

Harry opens his mouth to say something, but then ends up closing it, processing what you just told him. You don’t blame him for being lost and confused, it’s a shitshow, to say the least.

“That’s… That’s awful, I’m sorry,” he clears his throat, gently shaking his head.

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” you chuckle. “I trusted the wrong person. Learned my lesson,” you shrug, and you wish you could actually end it all in your head with that, but you know it will bother you for a while at least.

“Can I ask who this person is?”

“Eric Sonders.”

“I think… I know him. Didn’t think he could be this… vile.”

“Me neither!” you laugh.

“So… he stole your idea and presentation, so now you have to do something else? And that’s the makeover?”

Nodding you briefly tell him what happened at the meeting, he listens intently and then shakes his head in disapproval, probably just as upset and lost about Eric’s behavior as you are.

“You should report him, this is incredibly unethical and unacceptable.”

“I have no proof. We can’t prove that he did it all to my computer, you said it yourself.”

“Shit, you’re right.”

While Harry is deep in his thoughts you just stare ahead of yourself, doing a short assessment of your current situation. This should have been an exciting, professionally challenging time in your life, working on something that would earn you your promotion, but now, you feel like it’s more out of your reach than ever.

“We’ll make it work,” Harry speaks up, as if he could read your mind. “We can do it.”

“You really think so?”

“Yeah. It’s gonna be a tight stretch, but… It’s not impossible.”

“You are truly a life saver for agreeing to do it, Harry. I have no idea what I would do without you.”

He turns to you with a sheepish smile and you notice the slight pink shade on his cheeks as he nods.

“I’m happy to help.”

Part of you knew this would be deadly, but even after expecting the worst, it hits you like a train.

In the next two weeks you feel like you spend every waking moment working on the project with Harry. Sometimes you do it together, sharing ideas, discussing them, sometimes you’re together but work in silence and sometimes you do it apart. Whichever it is, you eat, drink and dream with the new website.

While Harry is taking care of the coding, you do everything else, that means content writing, planning, organizing and also designing. It’s been ages since the last time you designed anything, once upon a time you thought you’d end up in that field, but then somehow marketing came into the picture and now you have to combine your two passions.

It’s destroying you absolutely, but slowly it’s starting to add up and you can see the progress.

On a Friday evening you’re still in the office after seven, practically everyone has left by now, but you’re deep in work with Harry beside you. It's one of those quiet sessions, when you’re working together, but only speak when there’s an issue. Neither of you said anything for about an hour when the silence is interrupted by Harry’s ringing phone.

“Ah, sorry,” he mumbles, jumping in his seat at the sudden noise as he reaches for the phone, checking the caller ID before his eyes go wide. “Oh shit,” he mumbles and you look up at him as he answers the call. “Hey Mitch!”

You hear a voice from the phone, but it’s too muffled for you to make out what they are saying.

“Um, I’m kind of still at the office… No, I didn’t forget!” he protests, but the look on his face clearly tells you he did forget something. “I-I don’t know… Yeah, I’ve been just working with Y/N… No, I won’t– Mitch… No!... Uh, okay…”

He holds the phone away from his ear, covering the mic with a hand as he looks at you with anxious eyes, he looks like a reindeer caught in headlights.

“Um, I forgot I was supposed to meet two of my friends for a few drinks. Is it okay if I leave now?”

“Oh God, of course! Harry, it’s so late, I shouldn’t have kept you here so long.”

“You didn’t keep me,” he chuckles, before the worried look returns to his face. “Actually, would you… I mean only if you want to–So do you maybe… want to come?”

It’s adorable how he stumbles over his own words and you see the familiar pink shade tinting his face again, it’s a color you’ve seen a lot lately and you’ve grown to quite like it.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time with your friends.”

“You wouldn’t intrude, I mean, I’m asking because I want you to join, obviously.”

“I-I’ll just go home and work some more, it’s fine–”

“Y/N, we’ve been working all day,” he chuckles. “You deserve some free time as well.”

You think of his words, these two weeks has been so busy you didn’t even do anything else than working and sleeping practically. Some off time would be actually amazing for your fried brain.

“Only if you truly don’t mind,” you say at last.

“Let’s pack then,” he beams with a smile as he shuts his computer down.

Twenty minutes later you’re walking into a bar you’ve never been to, joining Harry’s friends for drinks and though you can’t put your finger on it, but for some reason you feel a bit anxious.

“Hey guys,” Harry waves at a couple sitting in a dimly lit booth. The woman is the first one to look at you with a beaming, bright smile as she slides out and holds her hand out for you.

“Hi! You must be Y/N! I’m Sarah and this is my husband, Mitch,”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you breathe out as you shake hands with Mitch as well.

You’re instantly bombarded with questions from Sarah as you slip into the booth and don’t even notice that Harry leaves and then returns with two drinks.

“Oh, thank you,” you smile at him as he sits beside you.

“So how is the project going?” Mitch speaks up, lazily draping an arm to the back of the seat behind Sarah.

“It’s going good,” Harry hums with a small nod, very humble about how much he has gotten done in just the first week.

“Mostly because of Harry’s hard work,” you add, praising him the way he deserves and it brings back that pink shade to his cheeks.

Sarah and Mitch are very easy to talk to, they seem curious about the projects the two of you are working on and just you in general. You’re having a great time hanging out with them and you feel like you’ve known them for a long time even though you literally just met.

You don’t even notice how time flies by, only when Sarah checks the time and lets Mitch know that they need to be heading home so the babysitter can leave.

“It was really nice meeting you, Y/N. I hope we can do this some other time,” Sarah hugs you.

“If Harry doesn’t mind me interrupting his time with his friends, then I’m in,” you chuckle, looking at the man in question who just shakes his head with a shy smile, letting you know he definitely does not mind.

“Alright, then it’s settled!”

They say their goodbye to Harry as well and suddenly it’s just the two of you in the booth and Harry is noticeably more nervous than before.

“Um, w-we don’t have to stay, if you want to go home, you co–”

“I’m happy to stay, Harry,” you smile at him without hesitation. He seems surprised, but excited at your answer.

You order another round of drinks and with the previous ones already consumed, it seems like Harry is slowly opening up, leaving his shyness behind and you get to have a peek behind his walls. The more you find out about him the more sure you get that he is truly an amazing, brilliant person and you wish you had met him earlier.

Maybe then you wouldn’t have fallen for Eric’s bullshit. Maybe then you would have fallen for him.

The drinks you’ve had don’t actually let it register, but you’re already developing a crush on him. How could you not? He is sweet, caring, smart, very thoughtful, basically the polar opposite of Eric. It’s making you question what you even saw in that asshole, you really put the bar too low.

“Oh shit, it’s already three in the morning,” you chuckle, when you finally check the time. “I should head home, I can’t sleep all day tomorrow,” you sigh, rubbing your face with your hands, realizing just how tired you feel.

“I’ll call an Uber, is it okay if we share one?”

“It’s more than okay,” you smile at him lazily.

Minutes later you’re out in front of the bar, waiting for the ride to arrive. It has gotten significantly chillier, you did not dress for a night out so you’re holding your blazer jacket tight on yourself. When Harry notices he shrugs off his jean jacket without a word and drapes it over your shoulders.

“No, you’ll be cold!” you try to protest, but he shakes his head.

“I have a hoodie in my backpack,” he shrugs and pulls out a black hoodie, putting it on right when a car pulls up in front of you.

“Thank you for inviting me out tonight,” you quietly speak up on the backseat of the Uber, staring at Harry’s dimly lit handsome face. His glasses slid down on the bridge of his nose and you had enough drinks to have the courage to reach out and push them back gently. The gesture seemingly surprised him, but he doesn’t protest, just keeps his eyes focused on you.

“It was nice hanging out with you outside of the office.”

“Now we know we have things to talk about outside of the project,” you chuckle, making him grin as well. “We’re a great duo, Harry.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure about it at first, I have never had to work this closely together with an IT guy and I was afraid I might be too intense for you. But it all turned out so good, I like spending time with you.”

“Really?”

“Is it that surprising?” you chuckle, letting your head fall back and rest on the back of the seat. “You’re a cool guy, Harry Styles. And very handsome.”

The last comment rolls off your tongue before you could bite it back and though it’s too dark to see it, you just know he is all blushed. Before any of you could speak up, the car comes to a stop, you’ve arrived at your building. Harry gets out of the car with you and walks you up to the door.

“See you on monday?” he shyly kicks the dust, hands in his pockets.

“Yeah. Thanks for tonight,” you repeat yourself and there’s a heartbeat of silence where you feel that moment.

You probably should not be feeling this way, not after getting yourself burnt so bad, but you can’t help it. You want to kiss Harry and for a split second you believe he wants to do the same. His eyes flicker down to your lips and you move just a tiny bit closer to him, time stands still and just when you think he’ll do it, he clears his throat and steps back.

“Good night, Y/N,” he mumbles nodding before he walks back to the car.

You stand there, feeling stupid as you blink after him before snapping out of your trance, forcing yourself to walk inside. As you take a quick shower and get ready to bed you get into a spiral.

First of all you’re such a needy idiot for jumping from one man to the other. You should not be looking at men at all after Eric and yet here you are, crushing on yet another coworker of yours, what is wrong with you?!

And second, why were you expecting him to kiss you? You’ve barely known each other for a few weeks and Harry is a reasonable man, he is probably not at all like you, he probably doesn’t want to get involved with a coworker especially not you. Some signs were giving you a feeling that he might have liked you more than just a friend, but you must have totally misread him.

You have to control yourself and not scare him away, especially since he is doing you a huge favor, the last thing you want to do is to make him uncomfortable.

Harry hasn’t stopped thinking about you all weekend. Specifically about that moment in front of your apartment building where he would have sworn he felt you were expecting him to kiss you, but he couldn’t do it. Not when you were clearly intoxicated.

He didn’t want you to think he would ever take advantage of you like that.

The next week starts oddly. He gets some extra tasks and you get involved in another project as well, so you can’t work together like last week. Monday and then Tuesday rushes by without the two of you meeting. By Wednesday Harry is craving to see you again and it seems like it’s finally happening, because you don’t cancel your morning meeting. He arrives in a good mood with coffee for you and him, excited to show you everything he finished in the past days.

But then he can feel the change in you when you walk in.

You seem off, but at first he can’t tell why. You’re not your bubbly self, you seem very closed off and oddly professional compared to the times the two of you met earlier. Harry tries to tell himself it’s nothing serious, but the more time you spend together the more obvious it’s getting and he can’t take it anymore.

“Y/N?” he quietly asks at the end of the meeting. “Is everything alright?”

“Sure,” you nod, but it’s like as if you didn’t even believe it yourself.

“Did… Did I do something that upset you?”

“Nope, I just…” You sigh, giving up the facade you’ve been trying hard to keep up. “Listen, about Friday, I’m very sorry, Harry.”

“Sorry? For what?”

“I feel like I overstepped a line and made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry about that. If I made you uncomfortable. I want us to work well together and my unfiltered mouth was not at all professional that night, so I’m really sorry about that.”

Harry is blinking at you, confused and lost about what you truly meant by all that. He did not see this coming and now he has no idea how to react other than just looking at you with a startled expression.

“Can we just go back to where we were before that?”

“Where… I don’t-I mean, um…”

“Let’s just forget about when we parted ways, please?”

“So… Uh, yeah,” he at last nods, trying his best to mask his disappointment. He thought there might be something more between the two of you, but this conversation is proof that you just had too many drinks and you didn’t mean any of it.

“Thank you so much,” you breathe out in relief. “I wouldn’t want to ruin our work together.”

Harry nods silently and doesn’t ask more about it.

He is trying hard to hide his disappointment and part of home wants to know if you felt even the slightest spark on Friday or it was all just the alcohol, but he is not one to dig into things that might end him up in an awkward situation. He just swallows it all down and pulls his walls up again.

You can feel a bitter taste in your mouth as well after your talk with Harry. Something felt off, but you can’t put your finger on it and soon you have something else to worry about.

You’re surprised to see Eric chatting with Zaya when you return to your desk. Your intern, bless her heart, is trying to keep a straight and professional face but you can tell she wants to scream at the man who definitely thinks he is charming the young girl with his small talk.

“Eric? What are you doing here?” you ask, biting your tongue so you don’t tell him to leave and fuck himself.

“Hey, can we talk? Privately?”

You look at Zaya and her eyes tell you what she thinks: it’s the literal worst idea ever. And you want to say no to him, but judging from his antics lately he would somehow use it against you so you don’t have much of a choice.

“Sure,” you mumble and the two of you take an empty meeting room. “So?”

“Look, I want to apologize.”

What? Is he for real? That was unexpected.

“My behavior was uncalled for and very unprofessional.”

“Do you mean the way you stole my idea and presentation or the way you talked to me when I confronted you about it?”

“Can you not attack me, please?” he gives you a look that would have put you in place before, but now it just annoys you. He is trying to make you be the one in the wrong and you want to snap at him for still being such an ass, but you want to be the bigger person and stay professional. No matter how much you hate him, you’re still colleagues.

“Go on,” you sigh, folding your arms over your chest.

“I know I can’t change the past but I think it's best if we deal with it in a decent way.”

How noble of him, pulling the rug from underneath you and then acting like he is this decent, peaceful man who just wants to work together. You want to throw up, but you swallow it back and force a smile onto your face.

“Sure, of course,” you tell him.

Seemingly Eric is satisfied with the work he did, but he is so tone deaf it hurts. He smiles nodding and heads out of the room with you behind him.

“Great talk!” he enthuses before walking away.

Zaya turns to you with wide eyes and you just shake your head.

“He wanted to apologize, though he didn’t really succeed, but I feel like it doesn’t matter to him,” you shrug as you sit behind your desk.

“You’re not forgiving him, right?”

“Of course not,” you scoff. “But we’re still colleagues, I can’t keep up the beef, it’s too tiring. I’ll just ignore his existence.”

You don’t think much of Eric’s ridiculous attempt to make peace, you keep your focus on your own project.

There’s a bit of awkwardness between you and Harry after your little talk, but you feel like with time it eases and you write it off as just him not fond of situations like the one you put him into on Friday.

Thursday afternoon the two of you are having another session together, working on some details he’s been trying to figure out himself, but he needs your input to finish them as well. It turns into brainstorming which results in a bunch of new things you want to include, but it will also add more work to your plate.

“I’m really sorry I always just keep adding new stuff to your load,” you sigh, truly feeling like you’re constantly overstepping boundaries, but Harry just shakes his head.

“I’m excited about these all. These are great functions and I’m looking forward to writing the code.”

“That sounded so nerdy,” you chuckle, but notice that Harry’s smile has disappeared.

“Sorry.”

“Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that! It’s great, I love it when someone is so passionate about something. I love it when you get deep into the tech talk. I think it’s amazing how much you know about these stuff.”

“But you can always just tell me to shut up, I know a lot of people don’t like it when I talk like that,” he mumbles, noticeably avoiding looking you in the eyes.

“Has… someone told you not to talk about programming?”

“Um…” He shifts uncomfortably and you’re about to tell him he doesn’t need to answer, but then he speaks up. “My ex girlfriend hated it when I talked about IT stuff,” he shrugs, but you can tell it’s something he struggled with.

You can’t imagine ever telling him to stop talking about something that brings him this much joy. It’s clear this is his element and any woman that would try to restrain it is an idiot and can’t appreciate how wonderful this man is.

You watch him quietly finish up on his computer before he starts to shut it down and you know you have to say something.

“She did not deserve you.”

He blinks at you surprised so you continue.

“Anyone who wants you to stop talking about something that makes you happy is not a person you want in your life, Harry, I hope you know that.”

“Uh… thank you,” he mumbles, that lovely pink shade taking over his face once again.

“You can always talk tech with me. I like listening to it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. It amazes me, because I know nothing about it.” And it’s really hot, you want to add, but then bite your tongue.

There’s a tiny smile on his pink lips and you can tell this moment matters to him more than you could imagine and you’re glad you could make him happy like that.

“D-Do you want to grab something to eat?” he suggests as the two of you head out of the meeting room.

“That sounds great! I’m starving!” you groan. “Let me just grab my bag from my desk.

Harry nods and follows you, he already has his backpack with him. You’re musing about what you should have and Harry is telling you about this amazing bagel place he loves when you spot the familiar figure near your desk.

“Eric, what are you doing here?” you ask, but you’re tempted to phrase your words differently, because it’s quite obvious he was snooping around your desk, not expecting you to show up after office hours.

“Y/N, hi! I was just… I thought I left some papers here the other day,” he clears his throat, stepping away from your desk.

“You had no papers with you,” you simply say, knowing well something is off with him.

“Maybe I remembered wrong,” he chuckles. “Alright, see you later,” he waves and then leaves quickly before you could ask any more questions.

“What was that about?” Harry asks as you launch at your desk, checking what might have changed.

“He was looking for something. He is trying to play me again,” you hiss through your teeth, frantically examining what he could have put his hands on, but you see nothing out of place. But then you realize that he must have thought you left your laptop, that’s what he was looking for. “Oh my God,” you gasp, quickly starting your laptop to see if there is anything wrong with it.

“What? What’s going on?”

“Harry, can you, uhh—Can you check if there is anything wrong with my laptop?” you plead as he rounds your desk and sits nodding, though he is a tad bit lost about what’s happening.

“Like, check if there’s another virus, or something?”

“Yes. I think he was trying to tamper with it again, I can’t know for sure if he hasn’t touched it earlier.”

You knew his half-assed apology was tactic, but you didn’t think he would do it all over again. Eric really isn’t the person you thought him to be.

You watch Harry type away on your computer, anxiously waiting for him to say anything and in the meanwhile you’re planning how you’ll get rid of Eric the moment you finally get your well-deserved promotion. There’s no way you’re letting a snake like him work at the company.

“I don’t see anything,” Harry finally leans back and you exhale in relief.

“I can’t let it out of my sight from now on,” you grumble, shaking your head.

In this moment you feel like you’re running out of energy, all because you trusted the wrong person. Feeling defeated you collapse into Zaya’s chair, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Harry softly says, as if he could read your mind.

“I’m in this situation because I made all the worst choices. I can’t blame anyone else but myself.”

“You couldn’t have known this is how it would turn out to be.”

“I know, but…”

“No but. Just… You know what? I’ll install an extra security program on your laptop so only you can access it, alright?”

“Really?” you sit up straight.

“Yeah, just give me a few moments.”

He gets down to work, works his magic and a minute later he is explaining to you what he got set up on your laptop to secure it.

“Harry, I owe you so much at this point,” you sigh in relief when it sinks in that Eric will not get his hands on your things again. “I have no idea how I will be able to pay you back.”

You notice a slight shift in him as he clears his throat, looking at you nervously.

“About that… I-I think I know h-how–I mean I thought about what… you could…”

“You know what you want in return?” you perk up, happy to do something for Harry after everything he did for you.

“Y-you can say no, it’s okay, I just–Um…”

“Harry, whatever it is, my answer is gonna be yes,” you chuckle, placing a gentle hand on his arm. He looks at your hand and then up to your eyes before finally speaking up.

“Go on a date… with me?”

Harry has been working up the courage to ask you all day, but he didn’t think he would have the balls to say it out loud. Sarah and Mitch urged him to shoot his shot, even after the kind of awkward conversation you had earlier. His friends were convinced you were into him regardless, but he’s been struggling to believe it himself.

It was kind of random he blurted it out, but now it’s been said and he is about to faint, waiting for your response. You’re staring back at him, eyebrows slightly raised, lips parted, but no words have left your mouth since his question.

“Y-You don’t have to, I-I understand–I mean, it’s–”

“Harry,” you cut him off. “I would love to go on a date with you,” you finally tell him and it feels like a stone has been lifted off his shoulders, his heart is about to jump out of his chest any moment.

“But I won’t take it as your payment,” you add and now it’s his turn to be surprised.

“What?” he breathes out, not sure what to make of your words.

“I would never take it as a payment, because I would go on a date with you regardless, Harry. Think of something else and we will have the date as well.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” you chuckle.

“Okay, alright, um… then… it’s a date!”

Harry is late.

He promised to be there at the meeting room on time to support you and answer any tech related questions that might come up in connection with your presentation. Eric is now presenting his (your) idea, he has added some features to it since he stole the whole thing, but it’s still mainly yours.

“Thank you very much for your attention,” he nods as he finishes his talk and the board claps shortly before it’s your turn to stand in front of them.

You’re plugging your laptop together with the projector when the door of the meeting room opens and Harry’s head pops inside. Relief washes over you as you watch him apologize for his late arrival and take a seat. Your gaze meets his and he smiles at you sweetly, holding his thumb up for you as you load the presentation. Now you feel braver, knowing he is here to support you.

You desperately wish you could read minds as you go on with your presentation. You’re met with mostly blank faces, but they were the same during Eric’s presentation as well, so you can’t tell what they are thinking about. It’s going smoothly, you rehearsed it a million times instead of sleeping in the past few days and when it’s time for questions you ace all of them, even the few tech ones. You’ve spent so much time with Harry that you can easily give an answer to everything at this point.

“Thank you for your attention,” you nod smiling at the end and disconnect your laptop from the projector, walking back to Harry.

“You did amazing,” he smiles at you proudly and his approval means the most to you.

“Thanks.”

“I’m sorry I was late, I had to take care of something.”

“It’s okay. I’m just happy you’re here.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have missed it.” The CEO stands up and all heads turn in his direction.

“Thank you for the presentations, I would like to ask the candidates to leave the room so we can vote.”

You gather all your stuff and head out with Harry by your side. Eric ignores your existence, as if he didn’t lie and cheat his way to this moment, but you’re not stressing yourself anymore about it.

You definitely believe in karma.

“You’ve got this,” Harry smiles at you softly and your heart melts at his expression.

You’re planning to have your date tonight. It’s gonna be either a ‘you’ve got the promotion, now let’s celebrate with our date’ occasion or ‘you didn’t get the promotion so let’s cheer you up with a date’, you’re fine with both, truly. You know you put everything you had into this promotion and if they still decide not to choose you, that’s their loss and your sign to move on.

You’re beyond excited about your date. There’s been an obvious change in your dynamic since Harry has asked you out, there are more glances, little touches, compliments and some very apparent sexual tension that’s still within the lines of comfort, it’s not too hard to control yourself, but you keep noticing more and more things about him that are pulling you towards him.

“I will miss our little work session,” you smile back at him shyly.

“Little? They usually lasted hours,” he chuckles, making you laugh too.

“Loved them all,” you shrug and the look on his face tells you he did too.

The board takes some time to make their decision and when the door opens fifteen minutes later your heart skips a beat. The CEO asks you all to return to the room and you take your previous seat, Harry sitting next to you. His hand brushes against your knee shortly and you look at him, your gaze meeting his as he gives you an encouraging smile.

“Thank you all for these amazing presentations, we were very pleased with the plans and projects,” the CEO starts as he stands at the head of the table. “We had no doubt you two are the best applicants for the position and it’s been hard to decide who to choose, but at last we made a decision.”

Oh God, you’re about to throw up. Is it you? Is it Eric? You hope you won’t cry. That could happen in either case, but you really don’t want to cry in front of all these people.

“The person we chose to fulfill the position is…” His eyes scan over the both of you as you hold your breath and then it finally lands on you. “Y/N Y/L/N. Congratulations.”

And just like that, your lungs fill with air again and it feels like a rock has been lifted off your shoulders.

“I told you,” you hear Harry beside you and when you look at him you see pride all over his face and you can’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around his neck to hug him.

“Thank you, it wouldn’t have happened without you,” you mumble as you squeeze him tight before letting go of him, going up to the board to shake hands.

At first you don’t even process it, but then Eric’s voice hits your ear and you realize he is turning red across the table, complaining nonstop about the outcome.

“...The whole thing was so fucking out of the blue! Redesigning the whole website? That’s like suicide!...”

You don’t even have the chance to react to his comments, the CEO speaks up for everyone.

“Y/N’s idea is daring, innovative and brave, just what we need. We don’t want to play it safe and your idea was definitely in the safe zone.”

“His idea,” you scoff under your breath.

“Actually, there is something I would like to show you, if you have a few more minutes,” Harry speaks up as he starts his laptop and moves over to where the board is. You’re watching him completely puzzled.

“There’s been an unfortunate incident about the presentations. Y/N’s original idea was stolen, a virus has been planted on her computer to cover up the deed, but I could not recover enough information about the perpetrator to make accusations, that was until a few days ago.”

What?!

You see Eric’s red face turn completely white as Harry types away on his computer and then shows something to the board. They curiously eye the alleged proof as Harry continues.

“Proof could be only found on the perpetrator’s device and a few days ago I had access to Eric’s computer when he brought it in for a check up, since it’s been working too slow. As expected and told, I make a full check on every device in these cases and found unquestionable proof that Eric stole Y/N’s presentation through the virus.”

Oh lord.

You watch as everyone on the board processes what they see on Harry’s computer and you can feel the switch in them towards Eric.

“Eric, let’s have a chat in my office. Now,” the CEO says and it’s definitely an order and Eric doesn’t try to go against it, just nods and follows him out of the room.

“Harry, why didn’t you tell me you were planning to do this?!” you ask as you rush up to him. The board members are leaving the meeting room, leaving the two of you alone.

“I uh– I wanted it to be a surprise. Eric showed up at the IT department the other day and I got his case without him knowing so I could snoop around. Found the evidence right away so I thought the board should know what he did.”

“Why did you wait until they announced who got the promotion? This could have kicked him out of the contest right away.”

“I knew you’d get it,” he smiles shyly. “I had no doubt they would choose you, I wanted you to experience defeating him after what he did to you.”

To say you’re touched is an understatement. He didn’t just help you immensely to get this promotion, but also went out of his way to serve you justice. He has done more for you than anyone ever.

You just know you can’t let the moment pass and ignoring the fact that you’re still at work, though no one is around to see, you close the distance between the two of you and press your lips against his.

This kiss has been hanging there for a while and you’d be lying if you said you have never fantasized about what it would be like to kiss Harry, but reality is a thousand times more magical. His lips are soft and warm, go so well with yours and once his first wave of shock passes he finally returns it and you melt in his arms.

You had a feeling Harry was a great kisser, but the way he claims your lips just blows your mind. He is sweet and gentle but also demanding at the same time and if only you weren’t in the office you’d pretty much jump into his arms and let him do whatever he wants to you.

Somewhere in the distance a phone rings and it breaks the spell, making you realize that you shouldn’t get carried away.

“Sorry,” you smile, your lips barely just an inch away from his still. “I got… I just–Thank you. For everything you did for me.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he returns your smile and pecks your lips shortly one more time. “And I will always be here to support you.”

You might look like a lunatic as you watch the guy on the other side of the glass door of your office finish up the sign on the door.

Y/N Y/L/N, Head Of Digital Marketing.

God, you still can’t have enough of the sound of it even though you got the promotion two months ago. Okay, the first month you spent in your old job, teaching the ropes for your successor before you could start your transition into your new position.

Now it’s official and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Checking the time you sit back to your computer to finish up work for the day. It’s been one hell of a week, you’ve worked overtime three times so it’s great that today is finally Friday. You answer some more emails and check your calendar for the next week, making sure everything is settled.

There’s a soft knock on the door and when you look up your heart skips a beat, seeing Harry walk in, his backpack on one shoulder.

“Hey. Are you done?”

“Just one moment,” you smile and he nods, walking over to the window, patiently waiting for you to finish everything up.

When you turn the computer off and look up at him, you notice that he is staring at you already.

“What?” you ask, packing up.

“Nothing, just… you look so pretty.”

You still haven’t gotten used to his compliments, though they always just keep on coming and coming. You love them.

And you love him.

Walking over to him you wrap your arms around his waist as you steal a kiss. Usually you try to keep the PDA out of the office, but sometimes he is just too hard to resist. Like now.

You’ve been officially a couple for two months, your first date after your big presentation was like a dream, Harry took you to all of his favorite spots in the city and then you just spent hours stargazing on the roof of his apartment’s building, he had a whole setup with a mattress, blankets and pillows, it was the sweetest thing ever, the best way to celebrate your win. Since then, it’s been endless dates, movie nights, trips on the weekend, you’ve been kind of inseparable. Well, outside of the office, because you try your best to stay professional at work.

“What was that for?” he chuckles softly, his cheeks have that soft pink shade on them that you just want to kiss all over.

“I’m just happy. That’s it.” Reaching up you fix his glasses before taking a step back and heading out.

Usually you just walk side by side to the elevator, but today you feel extra upbeat, so when you step into the elevator you gently take his hand and lace it together with yours and you can’t help but smile every time you’re in here with Harry.

Because he told you this is where he saw you for the very first time that day you overslept before your disastrous presentation. He was the one who held the elevator’s door for you. You were so disoriented that you didn’t notice him then and he likes to tease you about it, saying that he knew that moment he was into you, all while you didn’t even look at him. In return, you always bring up how you were the one kissing him for the first time.

It’s crazy to think how much has happened between those two things or even between that morning and today. He was the quiet IT genius who you dragged into your madness. He is still a genius, but you’ve gotten to know the sides of him others can’t see and you love all of them, it just took you some time to open him up. To decode him.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

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