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narrycherries · 1 year

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you sunshine, you temptress

you are normally an anxious wreck, and something about Harry’s hands calms you down (and his teeth..) * slight smut

masterlist // join the tag list

[ part 2 ]

word count: 3.7K

warnings: Harry x reader, soft!dom harry, biting, spitting, smut, some fluff

**[due to two messages I’ve received since posting this, I want to clarify that this relationship is completely consensual! there is no forcing or pressuring! xo]

Harry was sitting at his desk, eyes fixated on the computer monitor, when you gently tapped your fingers on the door. He looked past the screen and gave you a nod, silently assuring you that you weren’t interrupting anything. It was nice that he worked from home the majority of the time. That meant that you could spend lots of time with him and that when you were having bad times, he was just a few rooms away.

He didn’t fully turn his attention away from the contract he was reading over, though. You felt a sting in your heart as you realized he wasn’t looking your way. But you stayed calm and softly walked across the room, your socks muffling your footsteps.

Once you were at his side, hands fumbled with each other as you waited, he finished the paragraph he was on and adjusted the cursor over the next section so he wouldn’t lose his place.

“Hi, my sweet girl.” He said as he turned in the chair, his hands extending for you to take or to step closer, whichever you wanted.

You opted to take his hands and squeeze them tight before placing them on your waist. When you didn’t say anything, he became more concerned. He pulled you closer, wanting to give you some comfort. He could easily tell when your anxiety was hyped up. Your breaths were shaky and your eyes avoided his - simple but key things he noticed every time - on top of other signs.

“What’s the matter, angel baby?” He hummed, dragging you between his knees. Your eyes were placed on his shoulder instead of his face. “Hey, sweet pea. I’ve missed you.”

You nodded softly, indicating the same thing back to him. He knew you were long gone as your hand moved to his shoulder, sliding to the collar of his shirt and you started to gently scratch and pinch his skin.

“Wanna sit in my lap, baby?” He asked in a soft voice, remembering how easily you could get triggered by loud or overwhelming noises.

You nod again, allowing him to maneuver your body. He took notice of your attire - leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. It was August and you usually never got cold, so he was confused as to why you had a long sleeve item on.

“Are you cold, baby?” He asked, toying with the hem of the sweatshirt as you leaned your side against his body.

“Yeah.. Cus m’not by you.” You muttered out, eyes closing as you savored the feeling of sitting on his lap, his arms secured around your body. His attention was fully yours now. “Miss you.”

He kissed your cheek a few times. “I miss you, baby. You can stay with me for a bit.”

You nodded softly as you picked at your thumbnail. Harry carefully pulled one hand away from the other, knowing you’ll destroy your skin if he didn’t. You huffed and snatched your arms up, crossing them over your chest. He sighed, but kept his cool. He wasn’t intending to set you off, just wanted to look after you.

“M’not tryna be mean, baby, okay?”

“I know.. just don’t.. like it when you do that.” You stared down at his hand that was resting on your thigh.

Your mind drifted off for a moment. You couldn’t resist thinking about how much you adored his hands - how he rubbed your back, caressed your belly, squeezed your breasts. He did so many wondrous things with his hands. He loved to play with your hair and tickle your waist and hold you while you slept. But your favorite things were when he let you suck on his fingers and thumb, whether during sex or while trying to sleep. Most of all, when he rubbed your clit or explored your womanhood - pulling, pinching, and flicking through your folds and over your nub.. that was your favorite.

“Someone’s distracted, hmm.” He said, squeezing your waist as he pressed a line of kisses down your jaw to your chin. “Do you need something special, baby?”

You thought for a moment about your options. Did you want pleasure? Or did you want to give him pleasure and receive praise? You loved either idea, but you weren’t sure. Harry’s thumb and index finger bumped your chin, forcing your head towards him.

“Baby doll, don’t be shy with me.”

“M’not.. just thinking ‘bout what I want.” You pout your lips out, eyes locked with his.

“I can take a twenty minute break, okay?” He looked at his computer for a moment, then shifted his focus back to you. “Whatever you need, baby, just tell me.”

“Twenty?” You softly whispered, your head leaning against his now.

He chuckled back. “I guess it depends on what you want, doll. Y’know I’ll make exceptions.”

That made you feel a little better. You took a deep breath and pushed it through your nose. Your body was experiencing a lot of anxiety, thankfully it was slightly better now that you were with him. But you weren’t sure what you wanted.

“I dunno yet.”

He licked his lips as you looked down at your legs again. “You don’t have to pick anything specific. Just wanna sit with me for a bit?”

You shrugged. “I wan’ to do something special.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you sat your hand over his on your thigh and started tracing his skin. He gave your hip a knead, wishing he could probably feel your butt.

“You’re anxious, yeah?”

“Mhm.. a bit.”

He pressed his lips to your cheek, making you blush. “When you’re anxious.. you like f’me to make you feel good, don’t you, baby?”

You nod. He slid his hand up your leg, pushing the sweatshirt out of the way. It was way too long for you. You watched as he got closer to your crotch,

“Let me make you feel good then, angel.”

You curled your fingers around his wrist and stopped him from moving any further. He frowned, confused as to why you weren’t letting him do this.

“Wan’ your other hand..”

He smirked. “Want my better hand, hm?”

“This one gets tired too quick.”

The chuckle that left his throat made your heart skip a beat. He was just so attractive to you in every way. You turned slightly, your hands grabbing his face to yank him towards you. He hummed as his mouth fell on yours, tongues slipping around and lips smacking against one another.

Harry gripped your waist with one hand, the other clutching your hip. He wasn’t letting up on you. He sucked on your tongue, making you moan into his mouth. You pulled away, fingers gripping his jaw to keep him back. Immediately, your eyes fell to his lips - they were red liek yours now, slightly swollen and covered in a thin layer of spit. You licked your own lips, wanting to swipe your tongue over his skin to clean him up.

He knew that look in your eyes all too well. His lips pulled into a smirk as he let saliva gather in his mouth. You gulped, hoping that he was going to let you do your favorite thing.

“Please.” You whispered, eyes trained on his mouth as he parted his lips. “Wan’ it, please.”

Without saying a word, he swished all of his spit onto his tongue and knocked your hands down from his face so he could move. You whimpered as you touched his chest, waiting patiently. Harry tapped your chin, a silent command for you to open your mouth. You stuck your tongue out past your lip, eyes watching him closely. He held your jaw and angled your head the way he needed it to be.

A rumble exploded in your stomach as he spit onto your tongue, his taste filling your mouth. Your panties were getting damper by the second. He did it again as you pulled at his shirt, begging for more.

“Hold it, baby.” He mumbled as he let his hand fall from your face. “Look so pretty with my spit in your mouth, don’t you?”

You frowned your brows gently, nodding your head as he slipped his hand under your shirt. Harry knew what you wanted next - his command. You were not in any sort of dominating relationship, but you loved it when he was that way with you.

“Go ‘head, baby doll. Show me what you love doing.”

You released a gentle moan as you spread his spit onto your lips, smearing it over your skin. He watched with a hard smirk, eyes focused on your mouth. You scooped it all back up and move it from cheek to cheek, tasting him was your favorite thing.

“Swallow it f’me, baby.” He said with a lift of his brows.

You pushed it all down your throat and stuck out your tongue, showing him it was all gone. He gave you a proud grin and grabbed your chin, bringing your face back to his. He kissed you for a long moment - it was sloppy and messy, tongues rubbing all over, spit mixing together and being passed around from mouth to mouth. It was dirty, like you liked. He had never experienced this kind of intimacy before you, and neither had you. It was just something that unfolded with time - something you both found within yourselves, only for each other.

“M’baby might be a bit more than anxious, yeah?” He said breathlessly, finally pulling back to take a break. “Are you horny, baby doll?”

A grunt slipped past your swollen lips. “Needy.”

He smirked at your correction. Despite being so filthy with him, you didn’t like hearing certain words. He pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth.

“Wan’ me to take care of you, baby?” His hand pressed into the small of your back. “Make it all go ‘way?”

You nodded, hands gripping either side of his neck. “Please.”

“Turn ‘round.” He patted your thigh, wanting you to adjust yourself in his lap.

You moved around, throwing a leg on either side of him, sitting down on his thighs like you belonged tbere. That’s because you did. Once you were situated, his hands grasped your body and you felt more of that anxiety in your gut fade away. You were comfortable.

“Tell me what you need.”

You groaned, tilting your head back in frustration. “More than twenty minutes.”

Harry chuckled. “Baby girl, y’already know I’ll give you all the time in the world.”

Once you received that assurance from him, your throughts went wild. You scratched at his neck, but not too harshly - the reminder than he has an important meeting tomorrow was stuck in your head, only because he’d have to leave you home by yourself.

“Mark me, please.” You said softly, one hand slipping onto his jaw to move his head where you wanted it, and he of course let you without putting up a fight. “Wanna be yours.”

He smirked against your throat as your head fell backwards. “Already mine, baby girl. But I’ll remind everyone.”

You sighed in relief as he started sucking on a spot of skin, pulling it into his mouth, drawing your blood to the area. For a second, you thought about stopping him but you didn’t want to - not all the way, at least. Your fingers locked in his hair, slightly pulling at his roots. He thought you were just reacting to him, letting him know you were enjoying it. So he frowned when you used some force to yank his head back, tearing his mouth from your skin.

“Baby, I thought-“

Your thumb covered his lips, making him silence himself. Sometimes you got a bit bossy, but without taking control or gaining any dominance. You get what you want whenever you want, never have to do any work unless you want to.

“Bite me.” You muttered back, eyes boring into his.

His brows dropped. “Baby, y’know I don’t like using m’teeth on your neck.. s’too pretty for brutal marks.”

You groaned, sliding your thumb over his teeth before letting him envelope it into his warm mouth. “Don’t have to do many.. just a few, please.”

“No, darling. I’ll give you marks but no bites.”

You whined, frustrated with him at this point. “Baby, please!”

“We have dinner plans Saturday, baby. It’s easy to cover the bruises.. not teeth marks.”

You gave his chest a shove, making him huff back at you. “Harry, please. Don’t wanna beg you.”

“M’not gone let you, baby. I said no.”

Your nails sank into his shoulders, even though the fabric of his shirt he could feel them piercing his skin. His big hands grasped your hips, trying to calm you down but it wasn’t working. You were getting irritated with him.

“But I get what I want. You always promise me that, bubby.”

You attempted to sway him by using a soft, sad tone of voice and one of his favorite pet names. But it didn’t seem to work. He shook his head and pressed the pads of his fingers deep into your thick hips.

“I said no.” He sighed, closing his eyes for just a moment.

“Harry, pretty please.” You pout, rolling your bottom lip out and giving him wide eyes, doing whatever it possibly took.

He shook his head again. “No, honey. No.”

You didn’t like it when he denied you of soemthing you wanted. It happened so rarely that you never were able to handle it right when it did occur. You pushed out a breath, your lips turning to a frown.

“Then stop!” You suddenly blurted out, grabbing his wrists to push his arms away from your body.

“Baby, don’t.” Harry quickly tightened his grip on you, knowing you’d be unable to pull him off. “You’re acting like a child.”

“You’re being mean to me!” You felt your lip start to quiver, and of course he immediately noticed it.

“Nuh-uh, none of that, darling.” He was trying to be as sweet as he could.

He never liked it when you got upset, especially if he was the cause of it. The last thing he wanted for was your to cry over this - because he’s denying you of what you want.

“Baby, I don’t wanna hurt you. Everytime i bite you the way you want.. You bleed.”

“S’cus I wanna! I wanna hurt.. wan’ the pain.” You struggled to take in a proper breath. “You know I like it.”

Your arms slinked around his neck, pulling your self against him. His head was forced into the crook of your neck, but he didn’t fight you. If he was being honest, he was confused as to why you suddenly wanted his touch, weren’t you mad at him?

“Please, Harry, please.” You whined quietly. “I wan’ your teeth on me, please. Love you so much.. wanna be marked.”

“Baby.”

“I’ll do anything, bubba! Please!”

Harry took in a breath and carefully released it, his warmth spreading over your skin. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling and twisting to keep a hold on him. You felt hopeless, despite not wanting to give up. Harry could easily tell you were being genuine - whenever you were needy, you were just needy. There was no pretending or trying to deny it, he knew that.

He gave in. “You’re wearing your hair down Saturday.”

The second his teeth sunk into the side of your neck, you let out a loud moan of absolute pleasure. You adored the pain that shuddered through your body - straight to your core. Soft whines fell past your lips, getting lost in his hair as you shifted your head.

Harry’s fingers roughly grabbed your jaw and forced your head back where it had been, allowing him easier access to your neck. A thousand things flooded your mind all at once - each of them revolving around him. You wondered if he was really enjoying this. It was nothing new to you - the fact he didn’t like inflicting too much pain on you. Rougher sex was one thing, at least he knew then you were getting pleasure and an orgasm - but biting you so hard.. that was a whole other situation. He didn’t like doing it, the pain was a different type, the physical effects it caused to your body made him hate himself. But yet, he always did it whenever you asked because you were his princess - and princesses always get what they want.

The other main thought your mind kept circling back to was whether or not he was getting off on this. Was he just doing this to make you happy? You started to grind your hips down, trying to feel for any hardness. He groaned as you rubbed against his erection, a smile covered your lips. Of course he was horny, when was he not?

“Harry.” You muttered as he started working on a third mark, this time at the base of your throat where your skin was much thinner - which he was very aware of. He wasn’t trying to make you bleed out, but you weren’t satisfied anymore. “Harder.”

He opened his eyes as his lips fell from your neck. You huffed, trying to yank him back against you. He stopped you, his big hand coming up to gently touch the side of your neck - the side he hadn’t marked up. You were slightly irritated as his pretty eyes stared at the mark on your throat. He had bitten down too hard - even though it was lighter than the others. Your skin was so fragile there, so sensitive. Now, it was broken and a red circle was forming around the area.

“Don’t stop.” You whispered softly, combing through his hair. It was slightly oilier than usual, tonight was his shower night. “Please, baby.”

“M’done.” He muttered back, eyes still locked on your neck. There was a drop of blood pooling to the surface. He gulped as he watched it emerge and begin to roll down your skin. “I hurt you.”

His grip on your head loosened and you were finally able to move, opting to look down at him. You relaxed your body, sitting all the way on his thighs now. Your fingers curled around his nape, eyes trying to find his but he wouldn’t stop his staring.

“M’not hurt.” You whisper back, trying your best to remain calm and not become a brat about not getting your way. Sometimes Harry just didn’t realize he was doing everything you wanted him to do. “Please, look at me.”

The shake of his head was faint, barely noticeable. If you hadn’t been looking, you would have missed it. Harry’s hands were hardly touching your body now. He had returned his hand back to your waist - but he wasn’t even gripping you like he always, always did. It worried you, mostly because you thought it was your fault. Was he not turned on anymore? Did he not want to do this? You could still feel him under you, hard as a rock - but that didn’t mean he wanted to do this anymore.

“You’re bleeding.. in all three spots.” He mumbled, his lips stuck in the shape of a frown.

Once again, you try your best to move his head up, but he doesn’t allow it. A whine slips past your lips as you put both hands on his neck, attempting to get his attention.

“I can make you feel better, yeah?” You suggested, one hand traveling down his chest. He grabbed your wrist just as you reached his navel. “Harry.”

“No.” He quickly shot your efforts down.

“You don’t.. want me?” The words came out in a soft whisper, almost inaudible.

Harry let out an unamused laugh. “You shouldn’t want me, baby. I.. you’re bleeding.”

You were annoyed by his constant complaining, so you decided to determine the outcome yourself. When you reached up to touch your throat, Harry shook his head. You felt a wetness coat two of your fingertips. When you pulled your hand back to look, you felt a lump begin to form in your throat.

“M’not touching you anymore.. not right now.” He said suddenly, making your heart drop to your gut.

“What? No! Harry.” You whined, quickly wiping your fingers on your shirt so you could touch his face. “Bubby, i need you, please.”

“Baby, no.”

Tears began forming in your eyes. “This isn’t fair! I want this. You didn’t do it on purpose!”

He shook his head and gripped your sides. “Go. M’not doing anything.”

That broke your heart - literally crushed your lungs. A breath came from your mouth and you slumped against him, his face in your chest as you lazily put your arms around his neck.

“Pretty please.” You mumbled out, trying your best to be as sweet as possible. “Love you so much.”

Harry huffed back. “I love you, darling, but M’not doing this right now.”

“Harry-“

“Give it up, baby. M’serious.”

“Fine!” You threw your arms down and pressed your hands on his shoulders to stand up. He tried to keep a hold of your waist but you furiously shoved his hands down. “You’re being mean for no reason!”

He didn’t like the tears rolling down your clearly angry face. “Baby-“

“No!” You yelled, fists clutched at your sides. “I didn’t interrupt you! You let me in! I didn’t do anything mean to you!”

“I never said you did!” He raised his voice right back at you, but you didn’t care.

Within seconds, you were fleeing his office and rushing up the stairs to the bedroom. Harry was supposed to give you his undivided attention - but today he chose to neglect that promise. He wasn’t working on anything that needed his full focus, so why was he acting that way? It wasn’t like he had never bit you before..

((I wrote this originally using a name for the female character, but I changed it! Excuse any errors if I left in the name anywhere!))

#harry styles blurbs #harry styles x reader #dom harry styles #harry styles #harry #harry styles stuff #harry styles smut #one direction #harry styles fanfiction #harry smut #harries #harry tpwk #niall horan #louis tomlinson #harry x you #spitting #bite kink

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1d-oned-1d · 1 year

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THUNDERSTORMS

for everyone's notice, this is my first time writing smut, soo please bear with me and tell me how I can improve.

warning:- kinky shit, smut, a whole lot of filthy hot smut.

pairing:- Y/N and Louis Tomlinson

inspired by his outfit at his documentary premiere. also don't mind me I'm horny as fuck atm and DO NOT JUDGE ME FFS.

summary:- y/n has a fear of thunderstorms. they're in the car and things get a little too steamy.

I slightly woke up because of thirst and irritating clothes when I heard our driver converse with sun.

"Sir it's raining heavily and the car is stuck in the puddle, extremely sorry sir I'll just go and try to fetch a car for you and ma'am." the driver opened and shut the door. I whimpered as I heard another thundering voice. I slightly opened my eyes to see sun on his phone but then closed it back because of my sleepy mind. I was in that phase where you could listen to everything going on in your surroundings but even lifting a finger was too much of a work. The door opened again.

"Sir I found a car but it's only available for one person and it's going back to the city." He explained. There was a bit of silence until sun spoke up.

"Ok no problem, you might be having kids and wife waiting for you at home and worried, take the ride and head back." As sun completed the sentence, the driver gasped. I don't what made his gasp, probably him getting to go back to his family.

"Thank you so much sir, thank you so much, when I reach there I'll send another car for you." The driver exclaimed.

"Oh no need, we have already covered 3/4 of the ride home, I'll just a call an uber." sun explained.

"Are you sure sir?"

"Very sure, now go before your ride takes off." Sun chuckled, with one last thank you and a smash of the door, driver was on his way to his home.

"Shit! there's no network, looks like we'll have to stay here for the night." sun cursed under his breath. I whimpered again as I heard that, staying here was no problem, but staying in here with these heck of a clothes and with me being thirsty was a problem to me and not to mention thunderstorm. Sun picked me up and cradled me in his lap, brushing my hair out of the way to get a better look at my face but instead I snuggled my face into his neck.

"What's the matter darling?" He asked but I had no power to vocalize my issues, so instead I let him continue on what he was doing, that is asking questions.

"Is it because we're spending the night here?" He asked but got no reply

"Cold weather?" He asked again only to be met with silence and I shifted again in his lap trying to adjust my collar of the shirt.

"are you thirsty? are the clothes irritating you?" He questioned once again but this time I meekly nodded in his neck. He bent forward with me in his lap and put a water bottle in between my lips.

"Come on darling sip it." as he said, I started sipping it, soon enough quenching my thirst. He pulled away the sipper from my lips and bent again. What is wrong with this shirt aah! I tried shift again only to be stopped this time with sun's hands firm grip on my waist.

"Oh it's ok babygirl let daddy change you into his tshirt." He rasped and I was shocked by the change of his mood. While I was on his lap he shuffled below me for a while, only to make me feel his skin, meaning he probably removed his tshirt. With somehow collecting some power left in me I tried to unbotton my shirt.

"No babygirl, daddy will do it, just go back to sleep." He stopped my hands movement and set it in my lap, slowly himself working on my shirt. He was painfully slow while unbottoning my shirt but thankfully he shrugged it off me. I was ready for him to put his shirt on me but instead I felt his one hand on my waist and the other hand on my face as he kissed me. I returned the kiss and he moved his lips down to my jaw, the spot below my ear to finally the sweet spot on my neck making me arch my back and moan out his name.

"Sunn." I breathlessly moaned, he squeezed my waist harshly and marked my neck. He moved down to my cleavage and roughly marked me there too.

"It's daddy to you, you like it don't you when daddy plays with you, do you want me to play with you babygirl?" He rasped and went to unclasp my bra but I stopped him.

"Yes daddy I want you to play with me but I'm very sleepy." I moved his hands to my waist and shifted closer to him.

"Babygirl I'm not asking you to stay awake, you can sleep and let daddy play with you for a little while."

"No daddy I want to sleep, I want to sleep with you, you can play tomorrow." I spoke as I started feeling hazy in my mind.

"Princess I'll sleep with you, just let me play for a little while, and you don't want to make daddy angry do you?" He slipped his hands in my skirt and underwear and squeezed my bum, kneading it.

"No daddy I want to sleep, you're being an arse." My eyes shot open as I finished my sentence. One thing that daddy made crystal clear was, I was never supposed to curse or else he'll punish me.

"Okay enough, up and strip." He growled removing his hands from my skirt. "Now" he slapped the skin on my back when I didn't try to move even a little bit. I shifted from his lap and quickly removed the pieces of clothing which were left on me while he was watching me like a hawk watching his prey.

"On my shoulder." He roared making me whimper. Usually he would bend me over his knees if I was being bratty but when he meant over his shoulder it meant I was in serious trouble.

"I'm sorry daddy, I promise I'll never say a bad word again and you can play with me as you like."

"Did I ask you about your opinion my little slut?" he asked making me shake my head but all he did was raise his eyebrow at me.

"No d-daddy." I stuttered. I better use my words if I don't want to get in anymore trouble.

"Good now on my shoulder."

"Yes Daddy." I nodded and stood on the seat with my knees on the either side of his legs as he slid down a little to come face to face with my boobs. He further pushed his head in my chest and started licking in between both my breasts as he spanked my backside making me moan and clutch his shoulders for leverage.

"You like it don't you, you little whore. How I wish I could see your face while I punished you, I wish we were in our room." he mumbled, suddenly moving away from me and started fumbling with his mobile. In our room all you'll find is couple of mirrors, so he can see me no matter what he's doing. He set his phone somewhere in the car giving me my phone where I can see myself but the volume was on mute, he facetimed himself?!

"Daddy has two punishments for you, you'll count till 10 as daddy spanks you ok?" He demanded making me nod. "I can't hear you?"

"Yes daddy, are you recording me?" I whispered, I was never actually comfortable with the idea of him recording me.

"That was the second punishment for you but you have option, daddy won't record you, if you don't feel comfortable babygurl." He sucked on my nipples making my head fall backwards and my eyes roll in pleasure, digging my nails into his shoulder.

"Are you upset with me daddy?" I asked with a very low voice.

"Yes baby girl, very." He bit on my nipple making them hard as ever and me whine for mercy.

"Then you can record daddy."

"Are you sure princess?" He asked.

"Yes daddy." I confirmed. He quickly took my phone from my hand and handed me in a minute or two, and I noticed the screen recording was on. he bent forward taking his phone to do the same thing and set back in it's place within seconds. Once again I was visible on my screen and he spanked me harshly catching me off guard.

"One." I whimpered, I could already feel myself getting wet and dripping down the thighs. I was ready for another hit but it never came instead he trailed his finger along my slit, making me lose my mind and arch my back only burying his face more into my breasts, that made him groan. I expected him to slip his finger in my entrance but he spanked me hard once again.

"Two." I moaned and he continued his torture on me by sucking on my breasts and spanking both my ass cheeks one after the other giving me no time to breathe.

"Three four." I gasped for air, he removed my right breast from his mouth, not before taking my left breast in his mouth and biting it harshly.

"doing so good for daddy, my little whore, I'll think I'll move it to twenty for you since you're enjoying it." He moaned in my breasts.

"No daddy I'm so sorry." I whimpered but only to be met by another sharp slap of his on my backside. "Five" I counted. Soon enough 20, moved to 30 which further moved to 50. I had tears running down my face as I couldn't control anymore of his teasing, I just wanted his fingers and him inside me.

"Please daddy please." I requested as he pinched my bud roughly.

"aww just look at your red little glistening pussy, so red , please what baby?" He slapped my breasts, squeezing it harshly and kneading it.

"your fingers, I want your fingers inside me daddy, I want you inside me daddy." I moaned breathlessly, not being able to contain the euphoric feeling as he started running circles on my core in an extremely fast pace.

"You like it don't you, getting punished, getting spanked, so wet from all this, such a filthy little slut, like this baby?" He cockily asked as he pushed two fingers in me and started pumping in and out. Unconciously I tried to close my legs and I guess he noticed it because he further spread his knees which in turn spreaded mine and made me squirm while he continued pumping his fingers in me.

"Don't squirm, once again try to close your legs and I will stop" He roared as he started scissoring inside me with his fingers, not helping with the squirming at all, only getting me to squirm more and trying to close my legs.

"I said don't squirm you whore and what is that? you tried to close your legs." He growled taking out his fingers and spreading his legs to spread my legs even wider and a burning sensation erupted in my core from being streched out too much making me whimper.

"Please daddy I'm sorry, please I want your fingers inside me, please I promise I won't try to close my legs but it's really difficult to keep it open." I begged him to just put his fingers inside me and fuck me.

"You've really turned bratty you know, sorry babygurl but you'll be punished really hard this time. Not listening to daddy at all." He threatened. spreading his legs even more resulting me to cry his name out loud. He picked his coat and started rummaging through it, finally taking out his tie. Why does he even have a tie if he was wearing tshirt and a coat. He took the tie and tied it around my eyes like a blindfold making me arch my back repeatedly as he took my breast in his mouth. since my eyesight was closed off my ears perked up and I heard him shuffle around, he took phone from my hand and held both my hands behind my back tying it with a soft material, which now I guess was my underwear. He sat me down on the seat sideways, my back against his side and he pulled my knees to my chest. I was wondering what he was going to do when I heard the window descending and me getting wet from rain which was very harsh on my core, with every ounce of patience I tried not to squirm. Thankfully soon enough the window ascended up.

"Now listen to me babygirl, I'm gonna eat you out but before you're going to cum, you have to ask me okay?" He whispered in my ear, I nodded earning another slap on my core.

"Yes daddy." I moaned as he started rubbing circles on my clit once again. He shifted me away from him, lying me down on the seat to open my legs wide for himself.

"Oh so wet from me doll, I'm gonna eat you out so nicely." I could hear his smirk. He pinched my nipple with his thumb and forefinger and bit on my bud harshly, he entered in me with his tongue, lapping again and again in my walls, I locked my ankles behind his neck pushing him deep in me. I never knew how long somebody's finger could be until he entered his fingers in me straightaway hitting my g-spot making me a moaning mess below him. His tongue and fingers working ruthlessly in me until I felt a pressure in my lower abdomen making me pant.

"Daddy!" my eyes rolled back, not knowing anything while he curled his fingers in me removing his mouth from my core to attack my breasts, just increasing the pressure a lot more.

"Oh how daddy loves your breasts darling, so soft, wish I could have them in my mouth all day, you know how hard it is to resist myself when I see you like this under my control, all tied up, just waiting for daddy to pound into his little whore pussy." he kneaded one of my breasts as he sucked on the other one all while fingering me, sending my mind into a frenzy state.

"You feel the pressure in your stomach baby? that means you're going to cum" His voice dangerously calm but I knew he was onto something devilish.

"Yes daddy I feel it, I'm going to cum daddy." I moaned, the pressure growing even more when he scissored again inside me but suddenly everything stopped, his hands, his mouth, everything, leaving me frustrated and whining.

"Oh babygurl didn't think I'll let you cum this easily did you?" He laughed, holding my thighs apart to constraint me from creating any friction between them. Few minutes after the pressure in my stomach subsided and I was left horny, juices dripping to my thigh, he turned me around, my ass in the air, face squished into the leather seat and started eating me out, his hands never leaving my breasts. After a few more minutes of torturing I could feel a little pressure again in my stomach. He removed his tongue from me and pulled my ass cheeks apart, licking between them as I shoved my ass into his face for anything more he could do, which resulted in him licking my hole recklessly. He once again removed his face and pulled me towards him by squeezing my neck and jaw from the front.

"How are you doing babygurl, any pressure down here?" He asked, removing his hand from my neck and moving it further south to my core and inserting three fingers in me harshly, pumping at a very high pace while marking my neck.

"Yes daddy yes, I'm going to come daddy." I whined, pushing myself further more into his chest. He removed all three fingers from inside me only to push them in me again. I was gasping for air, as his pace increased even more than before. How is that even possible?

"daddy I'm going to cum, can I cum please?" I pleaded. My breasts bouncing with the movement in between my legs.

"hold on doll, I'm still not done with my pussy, and if you dare cum, things will only worsen." he curled his fingers in me, hitting my g-spot again and again, pressure building in my stomach reaching it's peak as I cum moaning daddy's name, my thighs trembling and my head fell backwards on daddy's shoulder. I knew he purposely did this because he wanted me to cum to increase my punishment.

"You didn't listen to daddy, daddy's going to pound in his hole and make you cum again and again until he's not done with you, ought to teach you some manners." he growled. He set me against the seat and I heard his belt clunk and his zipper moving meaning now he was going to fuck me senseless until I see stars. He undid his tie and my panties from around my eyes and hands. When I turned to him, he only smirked. I was beyond scared and excited for what coming next.

"Out!" He demanded and I sat their confused. "out of the car my cute little whore" He opened the door ushering me out. It was still raining heavily making me shiver. I stood there getting wet before his further instructions.

"On the car's hood baby." He got out after 10 mins or so with his belt and tie in hands. I quickly shuffled infront of the car to see him already on the boot, giving himself a few pumps. "Come on move your ass quickly." He demanded. I climbed onto the car and sat beside him.

"On my dick baby." He held his dick and aligned himself with me. "Sit down baby." He cooed but I knew very well the devil was soon going to unleash. I sit down on him and tried to keep my legs in between so he couldn't spread it but unluckily he caught on and set my knees on the either side of his knees spreading wide open until I cried out loud and held onto him once again.

"Oh baby I know, it's ok." He hushed and picked his belt and tie and tied my ankles with his legs only spreading them further, making me shout in pain.

"Ride me baby, I wanna feel your bouncing tits on my face." He kept a hand on my waist stimulating me to ride him. He started agonizingly slow, grinding me on him every now and then, making me go mad and loose my common sense.

"Faster daddy, faster." I moaned making him groan, he spread his legs further, taking mine with his too. "aahh daddy no." I whined and he held my waist and started making me ride him faster. He spanked me, only increasing the pressure while my breast in his mouth.

"daddy I'm gonna cum." I started nearing my third orgasm of the day, afraid to be denied.

"Cum baby cum, you're not gonna stop cumming until I'm gonna cum, oh god how I wished I could record you." he groaned. I felt my walls squeezing him, making him throw his head back, his nails digging into my waist, my legs started trembling and I released. Just as I released he picked up his pace and streched his legs, it felt like I could rip apart anytime from being this wide open. I felt the pressure build again it was not minutes before I released again. He quickly untied both our legs and rolled us over. He pounded in me remorselessly with rain having no mercy either. I needed something to hold on, so I held onto his back, surely leaving scratches there. Only thing that could be heard in the moment was us moaning, skin slapping against each other and rain, as I came down from another high. God! sometimes how much I hate his self control, he could last for hours and he did. I released about countless times but he was still nowhere near.

"Please daddy I'm so sorry, please cum daddy." I whined and he pounded into my overly sensitive clit. Once again I released, shrieking, but this time I was not the only one, daddy released too. He filled me with his cum as he rested his head on my shoulder while I pushed out his wet hair from his eyes. He pulled out of me and rested on his side pulling me close to his chest. after a few more minutes of resting on the hood of the car, he got down, and picked me up bridal style and headed inside the car. I winced as he set me down, laying me on the seat and quickly got in.

"You did so good princess, so good for daddy." He kissed me on the lips and picked up my shirt. He started cleaning me, he cleaned my face, jaw, neck moving to my breasts doing nothing sensual but cleaning me and then moving to lower part. He cleaned between my legs as I could feel his breath on my core, he left a quick kiss there and moved down further cleaning my legs. He again held me up as he dressed me into his tshirt and underwear when I winced.

"What is it babygirl?" He asked taking his hands in mine.

"It's paining down there." I muttered looking down.

"So sorry princess must be really sensitive." He laid me down, removed my panties and blew some air on my pussy making me shudder and close my legs.

"It's ok baby I'm just gonna blow some air so it feels good." He opened my legs and blew on my pussy for a couple of minutes before closing my legs and letting me rest.

He quickly dried himself up, wore his boxers and laid himself on me, only to flip us, so now I was on top with my face in the crook of his neck as he held me closer to him with his hand rubbing my back.

"I'm sorry if I was too hard on you baby." daddy whispered from below me.

"It's fine daddy." I replied and kissed him on his neck because it was closest to me.

"Couldn't help it darling, all night you were looking so pretty, all I wanted to do was show you how pretty you were." He mumbled against my lips, making me turn beet red and burst out giggling. "My cute little babygirl." He kissed me on the lips and then my forehead. Feeling content in each others arms we fell asleep.

I told you I wasn't lying when I said it was kinky shit.

Requests are open if you want anything specific, I write oned smut so yeah.

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celestialhrry · 1 year

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It’ll Be Okay

The one where Y/N, Harry’s fiancée, has bipolar disorder, and no one can bring her out of her episodes other than him.

WARNING: There is going to be mentions/actions of alcohol abuse, drug use, outbursts of anger, sudden changes in mood and domestic violence in this story. Harry does smoke in this as well. If you are not comfortable with that, please do not continue reading.

Y/N’s POV:

I sat on the couch with the bottle of vodka in one hand, and a cigarette in the other, mascara and tear stains on my cheeks. The alcohol and drugs were the only two things that made me feel at peace in this moment. Serenity.

A sudden click of the lock causes me to immediately put out my cigarette and hide the bottle of vodka. I attempt to walk up to the door, my steps going every which way. When he walks in, his face immediately changes, the scent of the marijuana pungent on my clothes and in the house, the smell of alcohol fuming off my breath.

“Oh, Harry! Hello. How was work?” I say, my voice slurring with every word I speak. I lean into his chest, putting all of my weight into him, making him tumble back a couple of steps.

“Are you okay, honey? You’re having another episode, aren’t you? Let’s get you on the couch, okay?”

“No, I wanna go upstairs! Have a bit of fun, if you know what I mean.” I say, a smirk present in my face.

“Absolutely not. You legally cannot give consent if you’re under the influence, baby. Stay on the couch, okay? I’m gonna go get you a glass of water.”

“No, no water.”

“Yes, water. You need some in your system, love.” He leaves me on the couch with a kiss to my forehead to go get some water.

I sit patiently on the couch, and after deciding he was taking to long, I grab my lighter and another cigarette. After lighting it, I take a long drag and inhale the smoke for a couple of seconds before puffing it out, when Harry walks in.

“Baby, what did we talk about? No smoking inside, right? That’s for outside only, my love.” He takes the cigarette from your lips and puts it out in the ashtray next to the couch.

Suddenly, your mood changes drastically and you feel a tear slip down your cheek. Harry immediately notices and is by your side in an instant, god knows what he did with the glass of water in his hands. For all he knows, it means nothing to him right now.

“Baby love, what’s going on? You having another episode, pretty girl? You can talk to me.” He says, his voice softening at the quick change of your emotions.

“I-I was just thinking about my past. My dad. And how he used to hit me. And I was thinking about it and I just brought the thought into my head that maybe that would be you one day and my emotions got the better of me. I know you would never do that to me or anyone for that matter, but my emotions got a hold of me. I’m sorry.” Harry sits there in silence for a second, probably out of sheer shock that I would ever think he would do something even remotely close to lay a finger on someone without their verbal consent.

“Oh, baby, my love. I would never ever do such a thing to you. I know how much you despise your father and although I’ve never met him, I despise him as well. He ruined your life. No one deserves to go through that. Especially you, my angel.” He ever so softly pecks your cheek, being as gentle as possible with you, knowing you’re at your most vulnerable right now.

You fall further into his arms, seeking for a safe haven, which he was yours. He wraps his arms tightly around you, placing a few kisses on the top of your head.

“I know that smoking helps you calm down so if you want to go into the backyard and do that you can feel free, my love. I’ll even join you this time. Stressful day at work.” Harry says and your heart grows a little more for him. You really only smoke to calm your nerves, but it turned into more of an addiction now. Harry rarely ever joins you for a smoke, it’s not really his thing but when he feels anxious or stressed about something related to his career, he’ll join you.

“That would be amazing, baby. I love you.” You peck his lips and grab the box of cigarettes and lighter from the table next to the couch, grabbing his hand with your free one and leading him outside with you to the bench you have out there.

He sits down before you and you sit down, putting your legs over his. You hand him the box and he takes one out, lighting it before handing you the box and the lighter. You watch him blow the smoke out of the corner of his mouth before placing the cigarette in your mouth and lighting it.

You adjust your position, curling up against Harry’s side, him moving his arm above your head to take another puff of the cigarette.

“Thank you for always being here for me, H. It really does mean a lot to me. I love you.”

“Of course, baby. There’s no one I’d rather be with than you, lovie. I love you so much more.”

And he locks that in with a kiss to your lips.

Sorry for not posting since like August. School started and it’s my senior year so I’ve been super busy with college apps but I finished yesterday so I should be posting more. Love you guys so much!!!!

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haileybeehappy · 9 months

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#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles dom #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fanfic #Niall horan #Niall horan smut #Niall horan fanfic #Niall horan fanfiction #Niall horan imagine #Niall horan dom #Niall horan angst #Niall horan fluff

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daaydreamy · 2 years

Note

all the aus reacting to y/n giving them flowers (including Jack n joe)

— bouquets and bouquets of flowers

— alien!harry

y/n looked around as she entered her home, closing the door behind her while also putting her bag on the floor. she was holding a bouquet of flowers that she bought while driving back home, which were specifically for harry.

“you’re home!”

y/n jumped a bit and chuckled softly when she saw harry now in front of her, letting out a small ‘umph’ when he hugged her tightly. she hugged him back and gave him a small pat on the back as well before pulling back, handing him the flowers.

“for you.” she smiled softly. “saw some on the drive home and figured you’d like them.”

harry’s cheeks grew warm, smiling as he took the flowers.

“thank you.”

— nerd!harry

y/n rang harry’s doorbell, standing on his doorstep as she waited for him to open the door. she tapped her foot against the ground a bit, peeking through the small sliver of glass at the sides of his door to see if anyone was inside.

she then stood up straight when she saw the doorknob twist, smiling a bit.

“hi! so sorry, i was cleaning.” harry smiled as he opened the door, making y/n’s smile grow bigger. “what brings you here?” he chuckled softly and she shrugged.

“wanted to surprise you.” she said and handed him the bouquet of flowers in her hand, making him laugh a bit.

“thank you, they’re really pretty.” he admired the flowers. “come in, come in.”

— fairy!harry

“you could put them in your house.” y/n smiled as harry held the bouquet of flowers in his hand that she gave him. he laughed and nudged her side, admiring the flowers.

“shut up.” he mumbled, cheeks warm and pink. they would never fit in his house considering how, well, it was a dollhouse for whenever he turned small.

“do you like them?”

“of course i do! they’re so pretty, i love them.”

- spellcaster!harry

“harry! look!”

harry got up from bed when he heard y/n call his name from the kitchen, nearly slipping while walking quickly since he had socks on. he walked into the kitchen and his eyes widened a bit when he saw her with his wand in her hand, although smiled upon seeing the smile on her face.

“i made flowers appear. see?” she smiled and held up a bouquet of flowers that came out of nowhere.

well, it may have disappeared from some random person’s flower shop, but who cares, right?

“how?”

“magic.” she shrugged and harry laughed, wrapping his arms around y/n’s waist when she took a flower and tucked it behind his ear.

— drummer!harry

got you some flowers, thought they were nice. hope you like them. :)

love, y/n.

harry held the small card that came along with the bouquet of flowers y/n had gotten harry. harry’s cheeks were warm and he gulped quietly, taking the flowers up to his nose to give them a small sniff, the floral scent going up his nose.

she got him flowers.

no one’s done that for him before.

— frat boy!harry

y/n smiled when she saw the flowers she had gotten for harry sitting in a vase that was full of water, sat on the coffee table in the living room. harry had called her over and it was about 6 p.m. she walked past the living room and headed to harry’s room, knocking before entering.

“didn’t hear you come in.” harry chuckled softly and got up from the bed, wrapping his arms around her waist.

he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, smiling a bit.

he kept the flowers.

— soft dom!harry

“god, i love you.”

harry smiled up at y/n as she straddled his thighs, his hands on her hips. she was laughing and so was he, watching as she leaned over him and pressed her forehead to his.

she came over with a bouquet of flowers in her hands, which were laying on the bed beside them. the flowers smelled nice and they looked nice as well. y/n was kind of like a flower, or at least that’s what harry thought.

flowers were soft and delicate, but also bright and beautiful.

— dad!harry

“daddy, can i have one?” luke asked as he stood in front of harry, eyeing the bouquet of flowers in his hand. harry had let him smell them and he thought they were quite pretty and wanted one for himself.

y/n had gotten them for harry, handing them to him with a soft smile on her face as she did. while she was out doing errands and harry was at home, taking care of luke, she had passed by a small flower shop and decided to buy a bouquet to bring home.

“here.” harry took one out of the many, handing it to luke, who now had a big smile on his face.

y/n smiled softly as she stood behind the couch harry was sitting on, watching the two.

— doctor!harry

“hey, doctor.” y/n smiled as she walked into harry’s office, making him chuckle softly. she walked over to him and leaned down to press a quick kiss to his lips, holding up the bouquet of flowers she had brought over here.

“hi.” he smiled and took the flowers, smelling them for a second. “what are these for?”

“nothing.” she shrugged. “just thought they were pretty. just like you.”

harry laughed at that and placed the flowers on his desk, getting up and wrapping his arms around her waist, leaning in to kiss her once more.

— mafia!harry

“hi, baby.” y/n smiled and pressed a kiss to harry’s cheek, holding a bouquet of flowers in her hand. harry hummed and smiled a bit, returning the kiss by pressing one to her cheek back.

“got something for you.” she handed him the flowers and he chuckled softly, putting an arm around y/n’s waist as he held the bouquet.

it was kind of funny, really. it was funny because usually harry was this kind of intimidating and overall kind of scary guy and now he had gone all soft for his girlfriend. he would smile and blush whenever she complimented him, sometimes even begging for her to cuddle him.

“thank you, my love.” he murmured.

— asmrry

harry blushed as he took the flowers y/n was giving them, smelling them for a second. he smiled at the gesture, hearing her chuckle softly as she watched him.

“thank you. um,” he was flustered now, “they’re gorgeous, i love them.”

“i’m glad you like them.”

— archaeologist!louis

y/n smiled a bit as she walked into the bedroom, seeing the flowers she had gotten louis yesterday sitting in a clear glass vase. they were right beside the lego flowers he had made for her a while ago on valentine’s day, and she chuckled softly as she looked at the two.

she was dating a dork.

she loved him immensely.

— dad!louis

“ooh, she got you flowers.” cassia smiled as she looked at the bouquet of flowers in louis’ hand. he handed them to her with a soft chuckle leaving his lips and she smelled them, humming softly from the nice smell.

“dad?”

“hm?”

“do you love her? like, actually?”

“yeah… yeah, i do.”

— camboy!louis

y/n furrowed her brows a little as she looked closer at her laptop screen, watching louis’ stream. in the background, there was a vase that had flowers in it, and the flowers looked awfully similar to the ones she got him two days ago.

“fuck.” louis moaned softly as he pleasured himself and y/n looked back at his body, cheeks growing warm.

— skater boy!niall

“niall!” y/n called out, waving her arm as she looked at niall from a distance. she was at the skate park he always went to, holding her own skateboard and a bouquet of flowers she bought for him.

niall smiled as he walked over to her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“hi.” she smiled softly.

“hi.” he chuckled and put his skateboard down on the ground, putting his hands on her sides.

“got you flowers.”

niall smiled, taking them.

“thanks, petal.”

— husband!niall

y/n chuckled softly when she walked into her home, seeing her youngest kid sitting on niall’s shoulders. she walked over to niall and pressed a kiss to his cheek, making him smile.

“what’s that, mumma?” her son asked as she handed niall a bouquet of flowers, holding onto niall’s head so he wouldn’t fall.

“flowers.” she smiled at him and brought her hand up, stroking his cheek.

“i love you.” niall murmured and pressed a kiss to y/n’s lips, making her smile.

— brother’s best friend!niall

y/n held the window open as niall came in through it, closing it quietly so no one in the house could hear. she kissed his cheek and walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge and taking the bouquet of flowers resting beside her.

“dunno’ if my brother is sleeping or not, so just be careful.” y/n looked up at niall and he hummed, leaning down to kiss her lips softly.

“anyway, i got you flowers.” she smiled and handed him the bouquet, making him chuckle.

she let out a small squeak when he pushed her down onto the bed, getting on top of her while pressing kisses all over her face.

“you’re amazing.”

— vampire!zayn

“i got you flowers.”

zayn’s lips parted when y/n handed him a bouquet of red roses, taking them from her. this was kind of weird. he hadn’t received flowers in, well, years. it felt nice though, receiving them. it was simple yet he liked. he wasn’t sure if it was because he hadn’t gotten any in a while or because he had a soft spot for y/n, either way though, he liked the flowers.

“oh, um, thank you.” he said softly and y/n smiled brightly.

— tattoo artist!zayn

“are these for me?” zayn chuckled softly as he looked down at the flowers in y/n’s hand, watching her nod with a smile on her face.

she was coming in to get another tattoo today, and he always tattooed her.

“‘course. for my favorite tattoo artist.”

zayn laughed and took the flowers, taking her over to his station.

— joe

joe stood beside y/n as he watched her buy a bouquet of flowers. he assumed she was buying them for herself and looked around the small shop, admiring all the different kinds of flowers. it smelled nice too, which was great.

“hey, here.” y/n nudged him lightly, handing him the bouquet she just bought.

“oh, they’re for me?”

“of course.” she chuckled. “c’mon, let’s go.”

— jack

“your hands are cold.” jack murmured as y/n tucked a flower behind his ear.

y/n chuckled softly and placed her apparently cold hand on his cheek, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. she was sat on his lap with the bouquet of flowers she had gotten for him resting in between them.

“do you like them?” she asked him softly, referring to the flowers.

“of course i do.”

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stellatekintsugi · 2 years

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Harry Styles

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jayssuz · 1 year

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Hey people!

I don’t know how this works.. it’s my first time posting on here but im hoping I can learn a little to post a few one shots/blurbs.

I feel like I need to introduce myself? Hi Im Jay, Im a mother of two cats and I really like Harry Styles (along with many other people but we won’t get into it) Im hoping to post fan-fiction on here (specifically Harry Styles but also a lot more people, ex: One Direction, 5 Seconds of Summer, Spencer Reid, Marvel and whoever my little heart desires and catches feelings for)

Im always open for suggestions and for a conversation<3

I don’t know what more to say so I guess I’ll end it here?

#harry styles #niall horan #louis tomlinson #zayn malik #liam payne #one direction #michael clifford #calum hood #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #5 second of summer #sub harry styles #dom harry styles #marvel

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cherryjuiceblues · 9 months

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𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 | 𝟐

➯ HARRY IS A LITTLE OBSESSED WITH Y/N AND Y/N JUST WANTS TO KNOW WHEN HE’LL HAVE SEX WITH HER AGAIN. ✰ dom!harry sexual content. dominant and submissive dynamics. minors dni. 𝑤𝑐 14k ッ mutually beneficial masterlist

Harry doesn’t love his job.

He doesn’t hate it either. But he certainly doesn’t love what he does.

It’s not the hardest of occupations; since becoming CEO (and after getting over the guilt of surpassing his colleagues in status), having the option of assigning others to complete otherwise arduous tasks for him has eased some of his tension.

However—inevitably—those smoothed over stress bumps are quickly replaced by bigger, more stubborn protrusions that take more than a gentle palm to flatten out.

But Harry is comfortable—he’s financially secure, surrounded by a loving family and loyal friends, and treated with respect, revered even, by some. So despite being true, what Harry had told Y/N—that You think I was wishing to own a finance company when I was a little boy? indicating that it has hardly been a dream come true—he is grateful for his position in life. Aware of his privilege but also immensely proud of how much his hard work had paid off.

However right now, as he sits behind his desk with his phone burning a hole in his pocket, Harry hates his job.

Hates the schedule that’s pulled up on his monitor, hates the squeak of his chair as he rolls over to the filing cabinet, hates the way the clock is ticking louder than he’s ever heard it before. And the seconds are taking twice as long as they should.

With each passing minute, the presence of his phone in his trouser pocket becomes heavier and heavier; its lack of buzzing and dinging feeling abnormally disheartening. And everytime his work phone—that’s lying face up on his desk—lights up with an email or a phone call and creates its shrill cacophony that pushes the line of Harry’s brow deeper and deeper into his already default frown, he becomes less and less of the easy-going boss he presents to everyone.

It’s enough to drive anyone mad; this torturous waiting. Harry feels as though he’s being dangled over the edge of a cliff but never dropped, never given the sweet release of death which he would gladly take over the pain of not knowing when he was going to fall.

One week. It had been one week since Harry first met Y/N. One week since they’d had maybe the best first experience he’d ever had with someone, and one week since he’d heard a single thing from her. And the memory of that night is enough to have Harry distracted. Enough to have him on the edge of his seat.

ㅤㅤ

“Please.” She whines—to Harry’s teasingly obvious question.

“More what?” He wants to ask. Wants to make her spell it out for him.

But he doesn’t. He’s nice.

Nice as he stretches her open with his fingers—intrusion more than easy with the copious amount of slick between her thighs—whilst his tongue plays with her masterfully. She pants and whines, bucks and wiggles. Loses the ability to say coherent words without stuttering over them.

He takes his time—relishing in the fierce, squeezing heat around his fingers—in the way her excitement makes his palm shine the longer he goes at it.

And he’s thorough in the treatment he gives her. Behaves as if he’s a professional that’s been paid to change her life. He imagines Niall as his agent who had come to him earlier in the day with a ‘great opportunity’ and demanded Harry give his absolute best.

Pretends that his entire career rides on Y/N’s enjoyment of this night.

Harry thinks, really, that Y/N’s lack of experience means he could do a subpar job in actuality—but the thought just makes him go harder. Makes every flick of his tongue and curl of his fingers feel like the best thing she’s ever known.

She’s soaking into his skin and it’s filthy; the way Harry’s throat rumbles out a groan at the thought of his stubble bathing in her—the resentment he’ll have in washing his face later.

Little does he know that Y/N is thinking the same thing—or rather, imagining the irritation of her thighs his facial hair will leave behind. The soreness that can only come from pure satiation, that she’s sure she’ll admire with great joy. Her first marks, her first memory-jolting piece of evidence of the night she was finally touched. The day she’s been waiting for—for far too long, in her opinion.

Especially now, as it’s happening, and Y/N doesn't know if she’ll ever be able to stop chasing this feeling. Her limbs fight between stretching out in tight, desperate attempts to grasp for her orgasm—and melting into the mattress in a mangled mess of flesh and bone. Harry’s mouth struggles to compete with the smile that overtakes his expression, watching Y/N’s body writhe in response to his ministrations.

This is his favourite thing to do.

She tightens, and squeaks, and drips—Harry’s fingers working her just right and tongue curling in fast, pointed flitters—as she propels further towards the edge. Close, so close; lips moulding around a string of garbled sounds and hips pushing up into the large span of his hand. She’s trying to beg but she doesn’t get the chance because Harry is feeling her spasm in contracting waves and she’s slicking down his fingers, crying out—

ㅤㅤ

Harry’s debauched daydream fizzles away when his work phone chimes insolently. The screen lights up, forcing his eyes towards it.

A reminder.

Team meeting | in 15m

“Fuck’s sake,” Harry runs his hand through his hair, leaning back in his chair as the leather stretches. His trousers are tighter than he would consider comfortable, but he’s safe—no recognisable evidence of unprofessional thoughts in his professional environment.

Harry considers himself to be a focused man—often finds solace in working to provide distraction—but this constant replay that has been leading his mind astray whenever he even attempts to shift his concentration is proving to be a hurdle too high for Harry to jump over. He thinks if he makes himself come then the unavoidable meeting that’s starting in thirteen minutes might be less torturous to sit through.

But just as he smooths a palm over his thigh, there’s a telltale knock on his door. The rapping a pattern that only his assistant uses.

Harry clears his throat, shifting himself higher to appear more orthodox in his chair.

“Come in, Mr Rowland.”

The door makes way as it’s opened, rattling the blinds that preserve Harry’s modesty—matching that of the ones on the full-length windows that look out into the building.

The man moves to stand stiffly in front of his boss’ desk, suit free of creases and long hair tied back to maintain formality. Harry used to have long hair once.

Mitch Rowland is a quiet man; stoic, but not unfeeling. Harry believes him to be the thoughtful type, and he chips away more and more of his exterior everyday, he’s sure. Cracking a joke that makes Mitch laugh feels like a reward—an acknowledgment of all the hard work he puts in to becoming closer to his reserved assistant.

“Time for a briefing, Mr Styles?”

Harry nods, gesturing to one of the armchairs facing his desk. “Yes, go ahead.”

He’s respectful enough to look intently at the man sitting across from him. As he speaks, Harry doesn’t drift off into his fantasy land full of strawberry embroidered dresses and passion fruit martinis—no, he converses with Mitch like the approachable boss he takes care to be, discussing the best way to go about conducting the team meeting and how to amicably pull up the areas that his employees are lacking in.

Truth be told, it’s life changing having someone like Mitch as his assistant. He demonstrates capability—enough so that Harry can often sit back and let him take the reins—it’s satisfying when their brains match up like they're connected via bluetooth. It’s an easy relationship to maintain, and Harry often ponders about how grateful he is.

But never has Harry been more grateful for Mitch as he is right now. (Which is cruel really, for a situation that would probably lose in a battle of importance if voted on by a large audience.)

The meeting is going fine, most likely—Harry wouldn’t know because his mind is elsewhere once again.

ㅤㅤ

“That’s it, take a deep breath for me, darlin’.” He’s good at maintaining composure, but God if Y/N isn’t testing Harry right now. She’s still fluttering—more than ready to let him start pushing into her—as her arousal coats copious miles of skin. He leans over her, pressing a soft kiss to the dip above her chin as he rolls a condom over his neglected cock. The throbbing gets harder to ignore now that she’s laid out for him; all stretched and wet.

“Are you sure it’s gonna… fit?” Y/N looks down, pupils expanding at the sight. Long, and thick, and hard.

“I’m sure,” Harry drags his nose against her throat, lifting back up to catch her blown-out eyes. He smiles.

“I… I want you to feel good too, Harry. Please?”

His heart thumps and his eyebrows pinch. She’s special. He wants to take such good care of her.

“I feel so good, love. I promise.” Harry drops his hips to prove it, sliding through her folds and nudging her sensitive clit as Y/N’s breath shudders. “Are you ready?”

“Can I—can I hold your hand?”

She’s a doll. (Maybe in more ways than one permitting she’d like to be pliable for him, but right now Harry knows she’s cuter than even the sweetest of puppies). He wants to coo right in her face, obnoxious and embarrassing, before his voice takes on a squeaky pitch and he expresses Of course, you can hold my hand—you’re just adorable, aren’t you?

Instead, he wordlessly transfers his weight to the now singular arm holding him up as he reaches for the girl’s empty palm and tugs it up beside her head. Their fingers entwine as the mattress creates a mould of their knuckles—and Y/N’s eyes clear themselves of the fear of rejection, gazing up at Harry with such appreciation that he doesn’t even receive from his employees. Not that he’d expect them to but the way Y/N is looking at him makes Harry feel as though he’s done something far more significant than hold her hand or coax a few orgasms out of her.

It’s almost sad.

“Ready now,” she whispers, and Harry’s forgotten everything else.

He reaches down to stroke over her hip bone in soothing circles. “Keep looking at me, okay?” She nods, eyes never wavering even as Harry guides himself into her drippy hole.

The first feel of intrusion is new—different to his fingers—exciting and tight as the mushroom tip of Harry’s cock presses in gently. Y/N gasps but it doesn’t hurt; it’s a filling sensation, one that makes her question why she’s not always been doing this. It feels right, like it’s meant to be.

And when she breaks eye contact to look down, she sees that he’s hardly an inch in and exhales heavily into Harry’s face. He squeezes her hand, green surveying her expression. It takes all of his composure to ignore how tight she is around him. It’s euphoria.

“H-Harry,” Y/N whines, shiny mouth falling further with each centimetre discovered inside of her.

“So good, baby, you’re so good. Keep looking at me…there you go.” His voice is taut, even Y/N can tell, and she blinks at him because it’s all she can do—hoping she is communicating well enough with her eyes.

As he gets deeper, she suddenly expels a great breath, jumbled words tumbling out. “Thank you, oh—that’s so—oh my god.”

And Harry is bottoming out, balls resting against her bum, as he lets out some air of his own. “Look at that, darlin’,” he smiles, “took all of me, first try.”

Y/N’s face suddenly splits into a grin. She chances a lift of her leg, to open herself up more as she stretches it to the side, bent knee pressing into the sheets.

“I didn’t know I had that much space in there.”

Harry laughs (it’s quite literally forced out of his lungs) and Y/N starts to let out endless strings of giggles—delirious with overwhelming happiness—as her stomach starts to contract. She can’t stop laughing. And every one has her core tightening around Harry’s cock in pulsing flutters.

If he wasn’t searching deep in his mind for the stability not to build up too quickly, then Harry’s heart would be bounding at the sweet sound of Y/N’s giggles. Pure elation in the form of prancing lilts. Bouncing off the walls and racing past their ears; slicing through any of the nerves she had left.

To see her face bunched up in laughter is to witness beauty in its rawest form, Harry is certain. All whilst she lays bare with himself inside of her—connected as far as he can possibly reach—this feeling doesn’t compel him very often. If ever at all.

ㅤㅤ

Sitting at the head of the table with absent eyes, Harry’s nodding his head in faux-interest whilst his mind is full of filth. Not many eyes are on him anyhow, as Mitch talks through the monthly rates but—understandably—when his personal phone starts ringing disturbingly loudly, the heads of everyone turn to watch their boss answer it alarmingly quickly. The same boss who most employees have never seen handle a personal phone in their entire career at his company; might have believed he lived permanently in his office, in fact.

It’s a shock when he holds the phone up to his ear, shoots his assistant a glance and says, “You’ve got this, haven’t y’Mitch?” before exiting the room with a curt nod and a rushed shuffle to squeeze around the chairs.

Harry knows it’s unprofessional of him, but he’s been waiting for his phone to ring all week. So he’ll be damned if he misses an important call just to maintain formality. He can’t fire himself.

The voice on the other end of the line doesn’t quite contain the lilt he was hoping for, however.

“Heyyy, Harry.” He can’t help but sigh as he closes his office door and slouches unceremoniously into his chair. “You’re at work, aren’t you? Surprised you answered.”

“The luxury of being your own boss, Niall,” Harry watches the seconds hand spin around the clock on his wall. Each tick is echoed by nails tapping wood. “You okay?”

“Oh yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I was ringing to ask about you, actually.”

“Yeah?”

“You heard from Y/N at all?”

Harry looks away from his clock. “I haven’t. Is she alright?”

“Oh, she’s more than alright. She had a great time with you.”

He smiles a little, “That’s nice. She’s very sweet, Niall.”

“Mhm she is… I think you should see her again.”

Harry thinks so too. “I’d like that. But I haven’t heard from her, which is fine—I didn’t want to overwhelm her.”

“That’s the thing though—she’s so nervous, even though she’s been proper gushing about ya. She’d love to see you again, I’m sure. But she’s too scared to call you.”

Harry rolls his eyes at his friend’s dramatics. “Alright… what are you saying, Niall?”

ㅤㅤ

Y/N is shy.

Chronically shy.

She always has been and that certainly isn’t going to change overnight. Especially not if she were to meet the most attractive man she’s ever seen, have him take her home and then alter the very definition of pleasure itself. Especially not then.

But she so very wishes that was the case.

The post-it note hasn’t moved from the position Harry left it in when he penned his number. He’d been so sweet when asking if he could give it to her—like making her come multiple times wasn’t enough of an indication that she might want to see him again.

And she really does. God, she wants it more than anything.

But she’s an overthinker. She’s a worrywart, a nervous Nellie, a wet blanket—whatever. In every version of the phone call they have in her mind, she says the wrong thing, or Harry lets her down gently, or someone else picks up the phone. And if she texts him, her responses are awkward, or he leaves her messages on delivered—or worse read—or even worse he asks to see her again and then Y/N has to panic over fifty completely different hypothetical scenarios.

She decides that it’s just not meant for her—relationships, or human interaction, happiness—she’s not sure what specifically, but she knows it’s too much to handle. Harry would only be disappointed in the long run anyway; Y/N is simply saving his time—doing him a favour.

Niall isn’t inclined to agree—because of course the topic came up in conversation. Her friend had never been so eager to talk about anything in his entire life, and he loves talking.

The morning after Y/N met Harry, she was greeted by a dozen text messages, followed by multiple missed calls. (If Niall was ever in danger, Y/N thinks she’d be inclined to ignore him—never phased by the multitudes of spam she receives on a daily basis.) And at the first opportunity he had, Niall was knocking—no, pounding—on her door, sing-songing her name from outside her flat.

There was a reluctance in letting him in. This was all new territory for Y/N and Niall knew that. However in fairness to her—rather oversized golden retriever of a—friend, he attempted with all his heart to pretend he wasn’t bursting at the seams for as long as he could. Grinning in a somewhat subdued manner as she opened the door—elated beam withstanding his journey to her sofa—until he sat down and just couldn’t help himself, springing back up.

“You didn’t fuck on the couch, did you?” Half teasing, half deadly serious as his eyes widen and he shuffles away in an attempt to evacuate quicker if Y/N were to confirm his fear.

Y/N cowered behind her hands, cheeks burning, “No! Don’t say it like that, Niall.”

“Oh right, I’m sorry, hang on,” he cleared his throat obnoxiously, “You didn’t make sweet, sweet love on the couch, did you?”

She squawked and Niall cackled, holding his arms in front of his face when Y/N started to batter him with a sofa cushion.

“Okay! Okay, I’ll stop, I’ll be nice.”

He was nice. A relief to have someone to talk to, and never before has Niall been happier about anything, Y/N is convinced. She didn’t realise the status of her sex life was something to be so thrilled about, but his smile threatened to blind her.

And once the initial embarrassment had somewhat passed, Y/N was honest.

“He was so lovely, Niall. Far too good for me, I mean—God,” she smiled but it’s a little sad.

“Hey,” Niall’s eyebrows pinched, “don’t go there with me, young lady.” He flicked her arm. “Harry wouldn’t have initiated a thing if he didn’t want to. And he left his number, come on.”

And that’s how they’d ended up in a tizzy over calling him. Y/N just couldn’t make herself do it. No matter how sweet, and pretty, and kind he’d been to her. Niall had even offered to do it for her but that had sent humiliating shivers down her spine, imagining it play out. My friend has a crush on you—absolutely not.

The days pass and Y/N works. She eats poorly, often asleep standing by the time she arrives home—and if it is proper food she’s ingesting, it’s something she’s woken up at two a.m. to bake because she’d had a sudden itch to do it. The rest of her time at home is spent cleaning the mess she made whilst baking—which turns into moping with a feather duster in hand. Moping about the best night of her life and how she’ll never get a part two.

Nighttime comes and her fingers don’t feel the same. It feels fruitless to even try. She’s hardly got hands big enough and none of the curling does her any good. It only makes her angry, and that’s the one thing she was always told not to be when going to bed.

She asked Niall not to bring Harry up in conversation again; that it would only make her sad and she’ll just have to get over it. Over him—or over whatever he could’ve become.

So the last person Y/N assumes is at her door when she hears knocking, is the very man she’s trying to pretend doesn’t exist. She’s exhausted—been home for no longer than an hour after a long day of answering the phone to far more people than usual, trying to maintain equanimity as she booked meetings in the rapidly filling calendar. Her lunch break had been undeniably cut short—some may argue it was cut out completely—when the computer she was entering sensitive data into decided to crash (without saving) and Y/N had to compose herself in the toilet so she didn’t stain inky droplets all over her desk.

She was hungry, and tired, and sad, and—above all else—overwhelmed. Y/N’s not sure the last time in her life when she wasn’t, and it really builds up in a person. It’s near impressive that she’s even still running. If Y/N were a computer, much like the one at work, she would have crashed years ago. And point blank refused to turn back on again.

It’s unsettling, to say the least, when she hears that knocking. Because who could possibly be at her door right now? It’s too late for it to be the postman, Niall is still working—and that is literally all the people she knows.

In a panicked rush, Y/N scrambles to answer it, too startled to check her appearance or wipe the panda circles from around her eyes. It feels like everything happens in slow motion, from the door opening to reveal the man standing behind it—to the unveiling of his gentle smile and kind eyes. Y/N is half-inclined to slam it shut in his face with an affronted squeal.

She doesn’t quite squeal, but a noise is certainly made. One of terror, Harry might believe, as her eyes widen and flit around his face in a frenzy. The flowers in his hand are only just noticed, and she pauses on them for a moment, an expression of disbelief passing over her features before they become chaotic once again.

“Harry! I—” Y/N pastes a hand to her cheek in bewilderment, heart sinking at the sight of the man’s eyebrows kinking, migrating towards the centre. Then she trails further down, sees him still clad in his suit—crisp navy pressed to perfection. It’s jarring the way her brain switches from awkward to lewd for a split second, until she looks away with shame.

“Darlin’, are you alright?” He steps forward, hand reaching out. “You’re not going to faint, are you?” His voice is light and Y/N wants to laugh because what a ridiculous suggestion, of course she’s not going to faint! but she’s not so sure she believes it.

“No, no, I’m okay,” she lies.

“Let’s sit you down. Can I come in?”

Y/N swallows, exhaling as she looks up at him, before nodding slightly and stepping to the side to allow him room. Harry barely stops to assess his surroundings—only guides her to where he’s been before—her sofa feeling like the softest of clouds in this moment, while her heart is racing and her skin is tingling. He stays remarkably calm and light on his feet, whisking himself away to do God knows what but Y/N is hardly concerned. All she can think about is the fact that he’s here, and she’s a catastrophe, and she has not prepared for this. She has NOT prepared for this.

Harry finds the kitchen, near tripping over his feet to turn down the boiling pot of water that’s about to overflow. He throws some pasta in the saucepan—something quick he can fill her tummy with—and digs around for another that he fills with a jar of sauce. Then he’s rifling through cabinets to find a vase for the bouquet in his hand—which is something she apparently does not own, so a jug will do—before filling both that and a glass with water to take back to Y/N.

She looks timid and small—hands fiddling with themselves in her lap as she disassociates whilst staring at her coffee table. Harry places the jug down right where she’s looking and she blinks some. Her lips upturn just a little at the sight of the buttery petals.

“Drink.” Y/N accepts the glass easily, swallowing multitudes. Her face is dewy, a slight sheen of anxiety, and her knees bounce. “Better?” Harry softens his gaze, aware of the tension between his eyes—he knows he can sometimes appear cross without realising.

Y/N nods, rubbing at her nose like a little rabbit, he thinks.

“I’m sorry,” her voice is small, “you’ve been at work, and now you’re here and I’m… I’m a mess,” she tries to laugh but it falls flat.

“Don’t be silly. I’m a big boy, Y/N, you don’t need to apologise.” He’s encouraging as he smiles, rubbing over her knee soothingly. She’s still in her pencil skirt and white shirt—but she looks less like a sexy secretary and more like a sweaty schoolgirl. It’s hardly self-respecting.

Y/N grips the glass like it’s an anchor, altering her train of thought. “Uh… no one has ever… bought me flowers before.”

The smile he gives her is compassionate. A small curve of his lips and the widening of his eyes as if to implore his feelings to display correctly on his face. The way he disagrees with the fact of it—why could that be true? It shouldn’t be true. Everyone deserves flowers.

“There’s sunshine in your smile… yellow tulips, that’s what they mean.” He offers the information with zero insecurity.

Y/N’s face starts to burn, heart fighting to burst through her ribcage. She opens her mouth, and then she closes it. Harry’s watching her so, very intently, eyes crinkling when her hands press into her cheeks as if to will the heat away.

“I don’t know what your favourites are, but I thought you might like those.”

“No…” Y/N shakes her head, “yellow tulips are my favourite flower… definitely.” She chews on her lip to detain the smile threatening to break free.

“Yeah?” His eyes are shining, light reflecting off the sea glass of his irises and unlocking the depths of his spirit. “You gonna let me see your sunshine smile, darlin’?”

She laughs, a bright, bubbly giggle as her palms smother her face. “No!”

“What?” Harry grins. “What’s so funny?”

“Stop talking like that… it’s— I’m… flustered.”

“‘M just talkin’!” He insists, hands holding themself in a surrender.

“You’re being… a lot.”

“Too much?”

“No. It’s just— people don’t talk to me like you do. It’s nice… but I don’t know how to react.”

“Just show me your pretty smile, I think that’s a good place to start.”

She giggles again, eyes full of mirth—trying so desperately to embrace the fire in her cheeks. “Thank you for the flowers, Harry.”

They hold each other’s gaze.

“You’re welcome, Y/N,” his voice is soft.

“Can I— Can I make you dinner?” She starts, desperate to repay him in any way that she can. And then her eyes widen and she springs from the sofa. “Oh shit—”

“It’s okay, I did it, love.”

“What?”

“I turned the water down and put some pasta in. I’ve got it all sorted.” He touches her elbow, conveying his wish for her to sit back down.

She doesn’t.

“You— Really?”

Harry nods.

“I’m sorry, God, I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t be doing that! I can’t even boil a pan of water properly.”

“Listen to me, Y/N.” His voice hardens a little. Not enough to be scary, or rude, or suggest he has ill intentions. His voice hardens and suddenly Y/N wants to listen to him, just like he said. It’s relieving, almost, the way his words cut through the thick fog inside her skull.

“Sit down, okay?”

She does, eyes wide and nervous.

“You remember what we spoke about last week?”

The look on his face prompts Y/N to answer—to brush past the sex despite it being the first thing she thinks of. “About you being a— a dominant? Or… uh… taking care of… people?”

“Mhm. How would you feel about letting me take care of you?”

And Y/N is shy—it’s been discussed—but she knows she really has to be honest right now. Even if that means embarrassing herself.

“Guilty,” she murmurs.

Harry straightens up some. “Guilty? Now why would you feel like that?”

“Because! You’ve turned up today with—with flowers and you’ve put dinner on and I already want to pay you back. I don’t deserve it, I’ve done nothing to warrant all of this.”

“All of this?” Harry parrots. His eyebrows furrow but he maintains a gentle tone, shifting closer to Y/N and holding his hand out, palm facing up. She places her own on top with the hesitance of a newborn lamb, eyes meeting his. “Darling, I don’t mean to be blunt but… this is not a lot. Flowers are really the bare minimum, and putting pasta in a pot is hardly a back-breaking task. Lovely… relationships, friendships—they’re not transactional, okay?” His thumb drags across the back of her hand.

She’s going to cry.

“You don’t need to pay me back for anything. I’m here because I want to be. And I want to show you that you deserve to be taken care of. Because you do, Y/N. You do deserve it.”

A tear brims over her rapidly filling waterline. “I’m sorry,” she laughs wetly. “I’m just tired.”

Harry nods, “I know,” wiping her cheek. “You just need a little help. And that’s okay.”

“You wanna do all this… and you barely know me… why?” He’s cloudy in front of her eyes, tears obstructing his handsome face.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you all week. You know that?”

“Okay, sure.” Y/N rubs at her lashes, smearing more mascara around. But she’s smiling a little, at the absurdity of Harry’s words.

He replaces her hands, the soft pads of his thumbs doing an adequate job of preserving her dignity whilst he wipes the smudges away.

“Mean it. Been distracted at work remembering it all.”

She’s not laughing anymore. No, her skin is tingling now. And her throat squeezes around a swallow.

“But it’s not just about sex. I like you, Y/N. And I want to like you more—get to know you, spend time with you. Is that convincing enough?”

Y/N shakes her head. But Harry sees the glint in her eye. He narrows his own at her.

“No? Are you playing with me? I thought you were a sweet, good girl.”

The skin of her cheeks has never been subjected to so much heat in such little time. It spreads out to her chest, and down her arms. She must be praying to some sort of God to ensure her hands haven’t become sodden yet.

“That’s not fair,” she squirms. “I just… like hearing you talk.”

“Hm, you like hearing me say that I like you, is that it?”

“Maybe,” she looks down. “Never really heard it before.”

“Well, get used to it, love. I want you to become sick of those three words.”

“You don’t even know me.”

Harry just smiles. “Will you let me?”

ㅤㅤ

Y/N is confused.

Or rather, she is tentative. Anxious, uncertain, disbelieving—waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Harry sits across from her in the café they’ve frequented quite a few times in the last two weeks. His eyes are closed, taking in the first gulp of his coffee as it slinks down his throat and warms his chest, leaving a pleasant trail of heat in its place.

She admires him; something she wishes she could do more without his beady eyes on her and making her feel all embarrassed. He’s pretty—she likes to look at him. Especially when he’s not in his usual suit and slack attire. (Not that her brain doesn’t start to malfunction when he’s embraced by the flattering lines of fabric clutching to the muscles Y/N has had the pleasure of being crowded by but…) The contrast of seeing him comfortable and unfiltered is enough to make her relax too.

Or attempt to relax.

The first time Y/N and Harry came to The Little Snail Café, the former of the two had been nervous. (That is hardly information anyone would pay for.) It was a date as far she had been aware; Harry had explicitly labelled it so. And Y/N hadn’t been on a date since she was with her ex… but their time out was hardly ever impressive enough to warrant any kind of excitement.

Even remembering that she’d had a boyfriend renders every moment spent with him as less and less meaningful. As time spent wasted. He’d never told her her smile was that of sunshine. He’d barely ever told her he liked her.

But Y/N wasn’t thinking about him. Not on that day.

Harry had forced her to let him serve her dinner that evening he’d brought her flowers. Had implored that she change into something comfortable and sternly ordered glue your pretty arse to that sofa, little miss. That had been hard to argue with. Then he’d proceeded to plate up perhaps her first proper meal she’d consumed in a week and ask her about her day.

Y/N had been a little hesitant to admit the extent of her misery but Harry cottoned onto her pause quicker than most would. He was earnest in his sympathy, eyes void of ridicule as she detailed all her misfortunes.

“No wonder you nearly stacked it when I turned up,” he’d joked. “I’m sorry you had a rough day, love.”

It had been nice to have company. A pleasant silence whilst the two filled their stomachs. Y/N had missed it irrevocably—someone to breathe the same air with.

That had been when Harry asked about taking her somewhere the following day during her lunch break. A quaint place I think you’ll like. It wasn’t far and he’d have her back at work just in time. Y/N found that she trusted his word.

And although she had been worrying about it, as soon as Harry walked through the front doors and into the reception—wearing a chestnut suit that once again clung to him, like thick globules of honey, with his slicked hair that begged to curl onto his forehead in ringlets like that of a piglet’s tail—she had tunnel vision.

Her boss could have come in and fired her on the spot and Y/N wouldn’t have heard a thing. Only the rush of blood in her ears as her pupils expanded to the size of ten pence pieces and her stomach became the home to a dozen butterflies.

Harry had watched her reaction as she’d read the sign above the café—smiled at her bright eyes when she’d told him how cute it was. Had smiled even larger when he took her inside and let her discover the tiny snails etched into the edges of the tables.

“No one else has ever shared my passion for these little guys,” he’d emphasised as they sat down in the corner, sunlight flooding in through the windows and brightening up their irises, making Y/N giggle easily. Harry could tell she wasn’t laughing to make him feel better—or just to flirt—and that only made him try even harder to elicit those sounds from her pretty mouth.

He’d insisted he wanted to get to know her better. So that’s what he did.

Harry learned that Y/N eats far too much sugar, doesn’t sleep enough, and wishes she could have a pet cow. Or that is how he heard the words that exited her mouth. Y/N had only said she usually baked goodies in the dead of night and that videos of little fluffy calves make her cry.

The two never glanced away from one another. It was the kind of chemistry that drew eyes. Subtle glimpses from other customers sipping their warm drinks and cherishing that collective sense of human connection just from witnessing two people so innately into each other. Old couples nudging the other to reminisce on their younger days—workers wiping down tables and feeling a sense of respite during their long day at the unmistakable widening of the woman’s eyes in an attempt to see all of the man before her—to hang onto his every last word.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-nine.”

“What’s your favourite colour?”

“Pink.”

“Dogs or cats?”

“Dogs.”

Y/N had asked him lots of those questions. And had seemed very content with every answer he gave her. Perhaps apart from that last one. Y/N might have preferred cats but it wasn’t a dealbreaker.

It didn’t last long enough, in her opinion; their date. She had to return to work far too soon for her liking. But Harry paid for her toastie and hot chocolate, much to Y/N’s disarray, and dropped her off with a stroke of his thumb to the back of her hand and a kiss to her cheek.

She’d smiled so much she’d had to bite her lip to tone it down. Receptionists were never that happy.

ㅤㅤ

Their second date had been impromptu. And not really a date. Harry had knocked on her door once again—however this time, Y/N hadn’t jumped out of her skin. In fact, she’d just finished decorating a cake she’d hoped to surprise him with and the shock of his presence was replaced with elation at the coincidence.

The door opened, and before Harry stood a smiling girl with youthful glee painted all over her face. A pleasant difference from the last time. She giggled to herself and instructed he close his eyes as she guided him to her kitchen where the sweet smells were surely giving away any element of surprise. Still, Harry played up to it—feigning shock—(it’s not that he’s a cruel man but Harry remembered things about people and Y/N wasn’t so hard to read).

“Oh! It’s beautiful, darlin’… you made this f’me?”

Y/N nodded, grinning. A proper smile, unabashed and without premeditation. Harry felt its warmth; lucky to receive such a display from someone he’d previously seen so reserved.

The cake was cute; rusticly smothered in vanilla buttercream and decorated with halved strawberries circling the edges (Y/N was not so hard to read) and it tasted heavenly. Harry never believed he was much of a cake person—he’d always much preferred ice cream—but devouring a slice with the knowledge it had been made with care, especially for him, had his taste buds in a sugarcoated frenzy.

Y/N had been so elated to watch Harry enjoy her baking that she’d failed to realise that he had come to her home for a reason. And so had Harry, apparently—a look of epiphany crossing his face as he was placing his plate in the dishwasher. (Y/N had tried to do it for him but Harry had smoothed a large palm over the top of her head and all thoughts just melted away.)

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“Mhm?”

“Weather’s supposed to be nice this weekend. Picnic?”

And Y/N still got flustered, sure, but…

“You came all the way here to ask me that? You have… you have my number, don’t you?”

Harry couldn’t help his smile, tongue stuffing his cheek to attempt to control it. “Yeah, I do. I do. Just wanted to see you. Good job I did too.” He nodded to the cake.

But Y/N was all twinkles. In her eyes, over her face, all the way to her toes. She had half the mind to believe Harry visited her just to garner this reaction; to inflate his ego.

“I won’t be able to take you for lunch tomorrow though, ‘m sorry.”

“Oh… that’s okay,” she smiled. It wasn’t okay. It was world-ending news. What was she supposed to look forward to now?

“Been offloading a lot onto m’assisstant lately—should really give him a break.”

Y/N frowned, “I’m sorry.”

Harry barely let her finish the word. “No. No, I don’t want to hear that.” He moved forward, nudging the back of his index finger under her chin. “Not your fault, is it?” His eyes bored into Y/N’s, stern but imploring her to not worry herself like that. To take the blame for something that was not her fault.

“I’m— I…” Words failed to form, eyelashes brushing her cheeks in repeated blinks.

Harry swept it under the rug. It’s not something he wanted her to get het up about. Another time—he’d thought—another time he’d make sure she understood never to apologise unnecessarily. To feel guilty about him causing an inconvenience just to see her; because God forbid she accepted that she was good enough to be treated with such consideration. Another time. “I’ll come see you the day after though, yeah? I still want you to try the beetroot soup.”

“Idon’tlikebeetroot,” the girl mumbled, lips downturning with the admission.

“What was that, love?”

“I don’t think I like beetroot, Harry.” Her eyes lifted…and there was that guilt once again. Fear that disliking something may cause offence or trouble.

“Have you ever tried it?”

Y/N’s silence was deafening. She smiled shyly up at him, skin tingling with the beginnings of heat—whilst Harry simply shook his head with a playful eye roll before stroking his thumb over her chin. The plush pad met with a soft indentation.

“Have an early night tonight, okay? Get some rest.” The syllables rolled off his tongue like a gentle caress; told her she looked tired in quite possibly the kindest way.

Y/N nodded, focusing all her energy on the feeling of his thumb on her skin.

And when Harry had gone, leaving her heart an overexerted mess of muscle and blood turned flower petals and bubbles, she’d simply looked to the ceiling with a shit-eating grin as she tried to swallow a giggle. There was nothing inside her that was not touched by Harry—and everything transformed from rickety and paint-chipped to sturdy and ornate—embellished down to the finest details.

ㅤㅤ

It had been a joy to wake up on Sunday.

Y/N felt the rays of sun through her curtains warming her sleepy face as her alarm blared—an alarm worth setting despite it being the weekend—and as her consciousness came rushing back to her, the memory of Harry promising to pick her up at eleven had her residual tiredness dancing away like it was performing the quickstep.

Dress weather made Y/N happy. Made her feel pretty and confident and giddy; something quite contradicting considering her skittish personality. And that’s exactly how she felt when she admired her sundress in the mirror of her wardrobe—square neck framing her chest, white fabric bunching around her shoulders in sheer puffs and cinching at her waist to flow into a floaty skirt. She looked sweet; the picturesque vision of a girl about to perch on a blanket under the sun and consume saccharine confections. Y/N pulled the hem between her finger and thumb, exposing the skin of her upper thigh, deep in thought at the fantasy of Harry taking her all in. His own confection.

And he did of course.

Though it didn’t unfold in perhaps the way Y/N had hoped. Which is why they’re called fantasies, she supposed. Because she was still her—despite feeling like a whole new person, she certainly wasn’t.

Harry had knocked on her door at two minutes to eleven, which may have been a problem had Y/N not been ready over an hour earlier than she needed to be. (With another bunch of flowers—white gardenias—“They mean I have a crush on you,” Harry leaned over and whispered as though it was some big secret. Y/N took them with a stifled titter and scurried off to place them in water, dress swishing around her thighs.) His gaze had dripped down her, as respectfully as he could manage when all he wanted was to glide his palms all over. The sight of soft skin contrasted by the sanctity of white cotton—her silky hands carrying a wicker basket (the true vision of a picnic) which Harry had plucked out of her grasp with little hesitation.

As a true gentleman would, he offered Y/N his arm to place her hand; the crook of his elbow providing a safe seat to rest from the weary necessity of holding the weight of her own limbs.

Y/N, however, would only be so lucky to mirror Harry’s formalities—to uphold the stereotype of womanly elegance—as her toe catches on a step down towards his car. Emulating their first night outside of her house, only this time it felt worse. It’s far more embarrassing, Y/N decided, to fall when holding onto the person you’re so enamoured by.

It was hardly a fall—moreso a drag of the foot, a buckle of the knee. But it was still enough to have her gasping and untangling herself from Harry. Harry who had kept her secure without any chuckling or patronising. Had his brows furrowed in concern and his hand to her elbow to steady her. Y/N still ripped herself away, turning so he couldn’t see her.

“Oh my god! Don’t look at me.” She was mortified; as the pair stood halfway down the steps, suspended in a moment.

“Darlin’—” Admittedly, Harry did have to try his hardest not to laugh. Not at her trip but her reaction; the drama! “Darling,” he tried again, “you’re alright.” His hand ghosted over Y/N’s shoulder blades, where fabric met flesh.

“That was—I’m mortified—that was so unattractive!” She barely meant it; was just humiliated as she’d said, but Harry shook his head behind her.

“You’re still very pretty, Y/N. Just a little clumsy. But that’s okay,” he turned her around, “you’ll just have to hold on tighter.” Harry admired the kinks in her brows, expressive in her shame, as he guided her hand back to his arm. “Very pretty.” He’d almost whispered it—not out of a wish that she had not heard but as an attempt to reseal their bubble—their intimate world.

The sun stayed magnificently bright for them.

As though it was watching its light bounce between their eyes; wanted the moment to last as long as it could maintain the warmth; the incandescence.

Harry followed the motions of her hands, fingernails painted in alternating shades of soft green and pastel pink, as Y/N devoured a punnet of strawberries. (She’d brought two.) She was a head-bobber, munching away with the occasional hum as her eyes transfixed onto his knees.

He was wearing corduroy shorts and a big floaty shirt, unbuttoned to reveal a white top poking out from underneath. Y/N admired his golden skin, the delicate tattoos bracketing his kneecaps, and the dusting of hair covering his lean limbs. It was still a joy to see him so underdressed, the true image of a boy she would take home to her parents.

The two looked symbiotic—two sides of the same coin, or heart, or strawberry—as Y/N offered one to Harry, who took it graciously with a smile and a scrunch of his nose. (Mild hayfever, he’d described it as.) From an outside perspective, they looked established. A relationship that surely began as highschool sweethearts. Enough so to have strangers whispering I’ll bet you a tenner he’s about to propose to her.

But neither registered any sort of outside perspective, they were the only two people that mattered, after all.

“You ought to be careful, love, you’ll get a bad tummy if you eat so much fruit,” Harry prodded, as Y/N opened up the second punnet of strawberries.

“Oh,” she frowned down at them. “My stomach sorta always hurts anyway.” He perturbed her none, eyelashes fluttering as she bit into a picture perfect fruit. Harry hardened his gaze—registering her unbothered tone with concern.

“That’s not… ideal, Y/N.” He was slow, cautious. “Y’shouldn’t be hurting all the time.”

Her eyes rounded out as she looked at him, lips plush as she took another bite. But she just shrugged her shoulders, tastebuds too preoccupied by the blossoming on her tongue. The wind picked up a little, blowing her hair across her face in soft streaks—as though the Earth was wielding a paintbrush, and using her strands as the medium. She whined a little, trying to avoid getting hair in her mouth as she finished the rest of the strawberry. Harry watched with starry eyes—zoned in on her shining skin—as a drop seeped out of the edge of her lips and dribbled down the side of her chin.

He reached over without hesitation, thumb swiping the liquid away, and Harry basked in the subtle widening of Y/N’s eyes as he brought that very thumb to his mouth to coat his tongue. Her fingers scrambled at her face messily, brushing all hair out of her eyes. It felt incredibly humid all of a sudden.

“Hey,” she pouted, refusing to be swept away under Harry’s ruse, “that was my juice.”

And Harry couldn’t help himself. Not when she was setting the scene just perfectly. “Mm, sorry,” he hummed, “d’you want it back?”

Y/N nodded, tongue darting out to wetten her lips.

“Hm?” He prompted.

“Yeah—yes, I do, please.” She swallowed; Harry’s eyes followed the contraction of her throat.

“Come here then,” he tempted. He was already in a very alluring position, elbows bracing his weight as he sprawled across the blanket, knee propped up and easily manoeuvrable. Y/N shuffled on her knees, the short space towards him, setting herself down with her hands placed on her thighs as though he’d instructed her to.

Harry pushed up, hand ghosting along the side of Y/N’s cheek. “What am I going to do with you?” Their breaths mingled, swirling across one another’s face and sinking into their skin. Y/N’s eyelids dropped closed, patiently asking, waiting. He took his time to admire her anticipating face, leaning closer to drape a sigh over her bottom lip.

“Kiss—kiss me,” she exhaled, eyelids twitching—wanting to open. But they didn’t. They stayed shut, stayed waiting, stayed hiding her from the world around them.

Harry smiled and Y/N swore she could feel it. Feel as he leant forward and brushed the tip of his nose down the front of hers. His hand stroked through the hair behind her ear, large digits coaxing her to melt and mollify into his hands, which she did so easily. She parted her lips wider, blindly tilting to try to meet his. Harry let them touch for a second—a press of flesh—before he leant back, nose nudging hers once again.

Y/N expelled a shaky breath, a little whine falling out of her neglected mouth. Her eyebrows kinked and her pretty nails dug into her thighs.

She chose to stay in the dark—from fear that it would be over if she opened her eyes. But that was something she needn’t have worried about. Harry leant back, enough to see out of the corner of his eye and reach for a strawberry.

He resisted the urge to indulge himself, mouth watering at the thought, and instead brought the pointed tip towards Y/N’s eagerly awaiting lips. Harry grazed his nose along her cheekbone, words finding her sensitive ears as he pushed the fruit to touch.

“Bite,” he whispered.

A noise of complaint lodged itself in Y/N’s throat, but she complied regardless, teeth sinking into the strawberry. Its juice coated her tongue and lacquered over her lips, the gooey pulp going down smoothly as she dared to open her mouth for another offering.

But as she did, suddenly the air around her face shifted, and the heat of Harry’s breath ghosted across her once more. Pointed and heavy exhales from his nostrils as she felt his tongue dart out to swipe across her bottom lip. It felt exploratory, leisurely—like he had all the time in the world to get to know her mouth. And it’s not like they hadn’t done this before—kissed—but it felt new, all the same. It had her breath hitching and her body leaning unconsciously into his touch.

Once her bottom lip stopped being enough, Harry pulled it down with the pad of his thumb and unlatched Y/N’s jaw in the process. He opened her up, and she let him completely, sat still on her knees as he played with her. She didn’t feel toyed with really—was still processing being touched in such a way and wondering if it would ever stop feeling so intoxicating. Harry took one final moment to bask in her blind trust; to watch the stillness of her face and feel the gentle (but rapid) breaths fan against his mouth.

And then he kissed her.

He really kissed her.

Y/N’s hmph quickly turned into a muffled mewl, open mouth accepting Harry’s tongue rubbing over hers as though it was her resuscitative medication. The only thing to stabilise her bloodstream, to soothe her fighting heart. He tasted like strawberries. And so did she. Sweet, and wet, and promising. It felt filthy but it felt clean at the same time—renewing and resetting, like running across soft sands to plunge into bracing sea water—Y/N would let him drip juice anywhere he liked, she’d let him feed fruit from his own mouth into hers. She’d let Harry spread her out and do with her as he pleased. Right there. Right then.

And it caught up to her all too quickly, the overwhelming heat of her thoughts. They were in public. But yet she couldn’t possibly entertain pulling away—not when Harry’s mouth engulfed her entirely. It wasn’t a cute kiss, a sweet reminder of affection or endearment. It was a kiss you shielded your child’s eyes away from, or grimaced at from nearby. It was sloppy, and sticky, and mind-numbingly dizzying.

Harry’s lips left syrupy residue wherever they landed—her top lip, her bottom lip, her tongue, her cupid’s bow. Y/N felt poisoned. Drip fed for weeks until Harry deemed the time right as he went in for the kill. She wasn’t sure she was even doing much of the kissing; perhaps she was simply being kissed. She tried to keep up, returned his tongue with her own and let her mouth encase his bottom lip in a frenzied attempt at reciprocation.

But his hands were holding her face, and then they were sliding into her hair, and all Y/N could do was feel.

Feel, and be felt, and—and—

ㅤㅤ

And Y/N is still confused!

She’s drifted away from their cosy table at The Little Snail Café—well physically, she’s right there but mentally… Her eyes are glossed over and she’s still very much contemplating the state of their relationship. Because… that kiss had been nearly a week ago and… well, Y/N doesn’t want to be thought of as some sex pest (she loses her virginity and now she’s clawing at the walls for orgasms) but she always thought—completely aware of her ignorance and unrealistic education—that the role of a dominant was to… fuck the living shit out of someone on the regular.

And even as she’s thinking that, with Harry right in front of her, she feels crude and disrespectful. But he hasn’t so much as hinted that he was going to have sex with her again, and that moment with the strawberries has been going round, and round, and round inside her head for days and nights and it’s driving her insane. Because, as previously established, nothing she can do matches what Harry made her feel, so any attempt at quelling the ache leaves her worse off than before.

“Don’t much like hearing how I feel about squirting, huh?”

Y/N blinks, and physically shakes her head as if to wake herself up. “Sorry?”

Harry sips from his mug, smiling. “Joke, love.”

“How uh—” she clears her throat, “How do you feel?”

“Hm… messy, but hot.”

She nods—perhaps a confusing reaction to such a sentence. Most people would probably quip back something flirtatious or coy. But Y/N just nods.

“What’re you thinking about in there?”

“Um… I was just wondering when— when you were gonna kiss me… again…”

“Y’are, are you? How uncouth.”

“Well— I just… When you said you were,” she leans forward, volume dropping considerably, “a dominant… I just thought… something different would be happening.” And then she starts to spiral. “Not in a— not because this is… this is great. I mean—”

“Settle down, darlin’, it’s okay.” Harry sighs, scratching the top of his head with a thoughtful expression on his lovely face. “‘s my fault, really. I haven’t explained much to you. And I have no doubt you are basing all of your facts on poor media portrayal.” Y/N scrunches her nose in a silent show of guilt. “It’s not just about sex,” he starts. “It is for some people, but for you I don’t think it is. And I’ve been slow, and cautious in fear of overwhelming you, and it’s resulted in probably a couple confusing weeks for you. So, I’m sorry.

“The whole point is for you not to worry, and you’re still doing that because I’m not doing my job properly, but I was worried you might change your mind so I held off. You can still change your mind, by the way.” Y/N shakes her head. Harry continues. “I’ll take you home now, if you like, give you the whoooole run through. Does that sound good?” Y/N nods. “And you’ll tell me if it’s too much, won’t you?”

“Yes, Harry. I will.”

“Can I take you to my home? Cook you dinner?” He asks, staring at the way Y/N’s head lays heavy against the headrest and her limbs are leaden, as she relaxes into his car.

She nods, lips quirking upwards with intrigue. At the blanks in her mind that will be filled. What to imagine when he’s in bed, when he’s watching TV, or eating… or… showering. “Can I help?”

Harry pretends to consider it. “We’ll see.”

ㅤㅤ

Harry’s house is… not what Y/N expects it to be.

Well, it is in some ways.

It’s large, and it’s expensive, and it’s astronomically grand. But it’s… it’s characterless. It lacks personality—and Harry Styles does not lack personality. Harry Styles is charming, and intelligent, and beautiful. But his house is stark white. There is no indication that his house is not a show home. It’s untouched, unlived in, unloved. And Y/N wasn’t expecting that.

“It’s too big, I know,” Harry gestures to the air around them as he watches Y/N take it all in.

“Not at all! No… it’s so beautiful, Harry.” And it is, it really is. She’s not lying. How can she lie when she’s staring at such a grand staircase? When the windows are so large, and bright that the space is nearly sparkling. And the garden she sees through the other side is blooming trees and unkempt flowers and just begging to be loved.

But as beautiful as it is, it’s still just… white.

He guides her through to the kitchen which…

“Woah,” Y/N admires, “you could make so many cakes in here.” She laughs and Harry grins just at the sight.

It’s true, there’s enough counter space to house at least ten separate mixing bowls. Impressively clean considering the observed shades of white. But there are signs of life in here—photos on the fridge, (one that catches her eye of two women that absolutely have to share his genes) post-it notes huddled around a pot of pens, a basket of cleaning products, a vase of flowers in the middle of the island. A comforting sight to see a little bit of the inside of Harry’s brain.

“They’re very pretty,” Y/N points at the photo on his fridge with a hesitancy that suggests she’s expecting him to berate her for being nosy.

“Mum’ll love that,” he laughs. “That’s her,” Harry points to the woman on the left, adorning sunglasses and a bright smile, and then to the right, “and m’sister, Gemma.”

“You look like each other.”

“Yeah? Y’think so?”

Harry shines when he speaks about his loved ones. Is so happy to talk about the photo of his father, his step-dad, his mum’s cat, the younger Harry surrounded by other young boys (“My mate Jonny, he was stoned as fuck in this picture. Had no idea.” His eyes crinkle around the edges and Y/N can only think about how beautiful those lines look).

Then he moves over to the island and tugs out a stool. “Come sit,” he pats.

He doesn’t let her help him cook—insists that she stay right where she is and carry on looking at him like that.

“Like what?” Y/N pretends she’s not shy about being caught.

“With those gooey eyes.”

“Gooey?”

“Mhm. You look one moment away from melting into the counter.”

“I do not,” she scoffs.

“It’s okay, I like it.”

ㅤㅤ

Harry owns the fluffiest rug in the history of the universe, Y/N is sure.

Obnoxiously cream in comparison to the rest of the colour palette. And in defence of Harry, the walls of his living room are painted a warm beige and his vast, velvet sofa is a deep forest green. The main attraction remains the rug, however. Long and shaggy and absolutely imperative to lie upon.

Y/N withholds the urge, but she stares pointedly and longingly towards it for too long to be considered a passing gaze.

“You can touch it if you want.”

“Hm?”

“The rug… that you’re eyefucking.”

“I—” she blanches, “It looks so soft.”

Harry makes the first move, blue jeans creasing at the knees as he crouches down. He pushes his palms into the strands and watches as they’re swallowed up into the depths of the faux-fur. Y/N hesitates, looking down at him on his hands and knees and wondering if it would be inappropriate to join him. But when he leans back, hands bracing himself behind him so he can lounge—mirroring the position of the day they had their picnic far too much—Y/N caves and drops to her own knees.

It’s sensory heaven—quite frankly—and Y/N knows immediately that she could get lost stroking this sole rug for hours. Harry watches her with an informed smile as she drags her fingers back and forth through the threads, already lost in a little world of her own.

“G’na have a mature and adult conversion now, alright, love?”

Y/N nods.

“Are you going to be able to listen and finger my rug at the same time?”

She narrows her eyes at him, adjusting from kneeling to crossing her legs. “I’m not finger—” she swallows. “Yes, I believe so.”

ㅤㅤ

“—I would encourage you to eat, go to bed at a certain time, turn your phone off. And I would want you to listen to me—not to argue, to trust that I know best.” That sounds easy, Y/N thinks. “I would want you to raise concerns in a polite manner—I don’t think it’s ever necessary to shout. And it would be important to me that you are always honest about the way you are feeling. No trying to make me feel better or pushing it down, okay?”

Y/N had feared it may be complicated, from the way Harry had suggested—had put off having this conversation for so long. But his commanding voice, and intense eyes make her feel so safe, and incredibly mellow. New feelings for Y/N. She nods.

“And when it comes to sex… trust is the most important thing. I don’t want to be doing anything we haven’t discussed, and I certainly don’t want you to make yourself uncomfortable in an attempt to please me. Now I know you may not be experienced with a lot of the things that are involved in these kinds of relationships but would you be interested in learning… with me? What you like and dislike?”

“Yes.”

“How are you feeling now? Good?” When Y/N nods once more, Harry gets to his feet. His voice slicks down her spine when he drawls, “Come here then. And kneel.”

Whilst Harry had been speaking, Y/N can’t deny the fact that her insides had started stirring around in anticipation. But now, as he commands her to station herself so far below him in stature, the silly little brain inside her skull begins to melt into mush. She crawls the short distance towards him until her eyes are level with the tops of his knees, and she just waits, sneaking a glance up to see Harry towering above her with a subtle quirk of his lip.

He brings a hand up slowly, warm palm ghosting the heat of her cheek and smoothing over her head in a comforting stroke. “I want you to call me Sir. T’help you slip quicker. You wanna be all nice ‘n’ mellow? Forget about all your stress?”

“Yes… Sir.” It comes out as little more than a squeak.

Harry chuckles, “You’re so good.” Y/N quite nearly beams up at him, insides swarming. “You like that? You like when I praise you?”

“Mhm,” she nods.

“Well it’s just so easy for me, darlin’. Because you’re so lovely.”

She closes her eyes, bottom lip nibbled to hide the giddy smile that overtakes her. Harry’s hand in her hair, scratching and smoothing, is already doing enough to make her eyelids heavy. But she supposes sleep is not the end goal.

“Your first time,” Harry starts. “Did you enjoy it?”

What? “Yes—yes Sir, of course.”

“What would you change about it?”

“N-nothing! It was perfect.”

He hums, nails dragging soothing lines into her scalp. “Which part?” Y/N opens her mouth but Harry keeps speaking. “When I fucked you open with my fingers? Got you nice and stretched for me—had your little pussy just quivering and begging me to fill her up?” He fists a more substantial amount of her hair. “Or maybe when I finally got my cock inside of you, and you were so happy. Squirming underneath me like a wet dream.”

Y/N can’t help but grab for his thighs, nails trying to dig in.

“Hands in your lap, darlin’.”

She pulls away regretfully.

“Was it when I fucked up into you, hard enough to force all those pretty sounds out? Or when I stretched over you and held your hands above your head? Had your body arching for me.”

Y/N is on fire. She must be. Her body is aflame and her insides have melted.

“I think…” Harry bends over some, trying to catch the eyes of the girl who is fighting every feeling. Her eyelids are shut, concealing the windows to her soul, and her brows are knitted together so tightly that she might induce a migraine. He smooths them out with a thumb before stroking over the delicate skin of her lids. “I think—look at me, darling—I think… it was when I had your stomach pressed into the mattress and a hand around your throat,” thick fingers squeeze her cheeks together with care, “and all you could do was lie there and take it. As I fucked you for the first time, just like you deserve.

“And after you came around me for the third time, I flipped you over so I could see your pretty face, and I came between your soft thighs, didn’t I, love? Did you want it inside of you? Warm, and sticky, and all because of you? Is that what you’d change?”

Y/N doesn’t actually think he would have come inside of her—he’d worn a condom, after all—but if the thought doesn’t have her thighs squeezing… “Wouldn't change,” she shakes her head. “Liked having you— liked it on…”

“Mm, I think you’d say that about everything. What do you know, after all?”

He’s right, and she hates the way his condescension has her wilting even further into the palm of his hand.

Y/N leans her face into Harry’s hand as he begins tracing over her features with a curious thumb, dedicating every line and mark to his memory. Then he’s crouching down with a little exhale and securing his hands under her armpits to pull her up with miniscule preamble. Y/N gasps, and her hands shoot out instinctively whilst Harry is lifting her up to his height. She grabs his shoulders and wraps her legs around his waist using muscle memory she didn’t realise she had.

Her knees sink into the rich green of his sofa as Harry sits down, gently encouraging her hands down from his shoulders and behind her back. A buzz zips through her chest from the feel of his warm body underneath her. Warm, and strong, and solid.

“Wanna hold these here, okay?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Harry’s tongue darts out to wet his rose-tinted lips. “Gonna be a little rough with you. If you want to stop, you say Red. If you want to slow down—take a break—you say Yellow. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good,” he says, eyes trailing down her neck, deciding what to do, “good,” repeated solely to himself.

Y/N feels the frustration of choosing to put on jeans this morning, mind spiralling at the thought of being on top of Harry with just a skirt to hide her modesty. Just a skirt that would so easily be slipped underneath by his hands, and then her underwear…

But Harry seems less concerned. His gaze is transfixed to her chest; to the intricate lace of her camisole, that—in contrast to her jeans—provides very easy access. Y/N’s breathing picks up at the very thought, ribs expanding and only drawing his eyes further. She’s tugged forward by a hand on her hip, searing through the fabric, and the other holding her hands. Tugged until Harry is resting his forehead on her sternum and inhaling deeply.

Her lungs are working at an extreme rate, and more of his nose presses into her with every breath. Y/N is so close to his hair in this position—just has to bend her face down a little and his musky scent fills her nostrils. It seems they both have similar ideas—breathing one another in—but Harry seems far more relaxed than the near shaking girl on top of him.

It only gets worse for her when he pushes his lips against the valley of her breasts—small, tender kisses that have Y/N’s breath hitching. The straps of her camisole want to fall down her shoulders in angelic swoops but her cardigan prohibits all movement. Suddenly it’s the heaviest and warmest piece of clothing she’s ever worn.

“Har—Sir,” she breathes, head tilting back on her shoulders. The caress of his breath on her body is immobilising, and he seems content in moving at a snail’s pace for his own enjoyment. Whether he gets the message or not is unclear, but regardless, Harry lets go of her hands just long enough to shuck the chunky cardigan down her arms and discard it beside them.

As soon as he tightens his grip around her wrists once again, the strain of her arms has her camisole straps slipping down the curves of her shoulders, like a waterfall of silk. The fabric is so light and thin that it pools underneath her breasts—the crooks of her elbows the only things keeping the straps suspended. And Harry’s immediate response suggests he’s somewhat of a starved individual, teeth digging into the top of the left cup of her bra and tugging it down with haste.

He takes her nipple into his mouth and Y/N is all gasps and bucks. The sensitivity of her skin and the rough suction of his lips, the flicking of his tongue and the grazing of his teeth. It’s deafening; the blood rushing in Y/N’s head, it’s near predisposing. The spit, and the hot exhales from his nose against her chest, the indentations his teeth leave behind when he pulls away to admire the wetness of her breast. But he goes back in—bites at her flesh—chews, and laves, and consumes her entirely.

Y/N’s cunt is pulsating. She is wet, and fervently hot, and the subtle rocking of her hips is ceased by a large palm over hip, which has her whining into the air.

“Stay still f’me,” he slurs into her skin, desperate fingers pulling her bra down further and watching to make sure it stays, before he starts on the other side of her chest. Her wrists are encircled behind her back, and Harry pushes her forward—into his mouth, as if he’s not already practically eating her. And maybe she can try her hardest not to squirm but all that energy has to go somewhere, and she’s panting now—whimpering all these sounds that she’s never heard herself make before—and Harry can surely feel the vigorous inflation and deflation of her lungs.

“Oh—oh, H—Sir, please.”

Please what? Stop? No. Keep torturing her breasts? Also no.

Harry hums against her, long and unwilling as his mouth leaves her with a wet smack. He admires her skin, eyes flitting up to see the dazed girl atop him.

“Don’t like it?” He puffs, inhaling deeply, beginning to dance a hand around her ribs.

“I do, I do,” Y/N breathes, eyes still closed. “Too h-hot.”

Harry frowns though she can’t see, before he’s unclasping her bra and pulling her camisole over her head—standing her up on jelly legs and pulling her jeans down. Sat on his lap once again, he tightens his grip around her wrists and curls his fingers around her throat.

“Can feel your heat, baby,” he looks down to where her clothed cunt rests just before his bulge. His still very clothed bulge. “Give me a kiss.” And she still feels exceptionally inexperienced in the whole department but her body surges forward, urged by the pressure against her pulse, as her lips meet his shiny ones.

This time, when Y/N’s hips start moving on their own accord, Harry doesn’t stop her—tugs her closer in fact. Right on top of where he’s warm, and hard. Their mouths part a centimetre, just enough to pant into one another at the feeling. Of his hand squeezing her throat, and pushing her arms into her back. Y/N doesn’t even notice when he lets go of her wrists—never daring to move them—as his palm comes down in an experimental slap to her arse.

It’s light; enough to not hurt but suggest his intentions. And when Y/N gasps and twitches on top of him, he gets the idea. “Is that nice?”

“Yes.”

“You like that?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Sir, yes Sir,” she whimpers into his mouth, lips pasting to his cupid’s bow and falling away when he does it again. Hard enough to leave a tingle that spreads out to her centre and up her stomach.

“Unzip my trousers.”

There’s no hesitation, both his palms are holding her ass now, desperate to spread them apart but damned by the confines of her underwear. Y/N shakes a little but does what he says, exposing the hot pink of his boxers underneath—and the thick outline of his cock.

“Take me out, go on.” She meets his eyes—blown out and transfixed, mirroring her very own. “Take me out, Y/N,” he whispers, leaning closer to lick a stripe up the column of her throat, and then an open-mouthed kiss to her chin, and her mouth.

He’s heavy in her hand, and intimidatingly big. How did she ever fit this inside of her? But she feels the instinct to make him feel good. This was the one area she had experience in, afterall. The skin is so soft and all she has to do is spit down and watch as it drips from his head along his shaft. But Harry takes her hand instead and laves his tongue along her palm before guiding her down to wrap around him.

His breath hitches; their eyes don’t stray from one another’s. He holds her hand over him and starts to drag it up and down, his blinking lagging a little from the feel of her delicate fingers wriggling underneath his palm. It’s intense, and paralysingly slow—every second spent watching his face feels like sixty—and when she looks down, she feels herself clench around nothing at the sight of her smaller hand wrapped in his, and the way his cock looks between them. Red, and thick, and wet.

It must show on her face because Harry’s unwrapping her hand and reaching forward to press his fingers into the front of her underwear. “Put me in.”

“What? B-but I’m not… and you’re so…”

He nods, “I know. You can do it,” as he awkwardly fumbles for his wallet from his back pocket. Y/N’s heart jumps when he rips the condom open with his teeth—a true teenage fantasy—and slides it on with a swallowed grunt.

He tugs her gusset to the side, breaking strings of arousal and basking in the twitch of Y/N’s hips. She clumsily hovers over him, embarrassed as she holds onto his base. As she lowers down, Harry’s thumb finds her clit—swollen and hypersensitive—and she squeezes him reflexively. He groans, low and vibrating, content to roll her under his digit cruelly—distracting her from the attempt at swallowing him with composure.

Y/N whines as the thick head squeezes inside her tight hole, mouth ajar and eyes half-focused on the man who brings his shining thumb to his mouth and makes a show of relishing in the taste of her arousal.

“F-fuck,” the words force their way out of her shining mouth.

Harry rears a hand back and slaps her ass, harder than the other times, fingers staying on the skin to dig in and pull. “Don’t swear.” And Y/N doesn’t think he’s usually adverse to it but she’ll do whatever he asks of her right now.

“S-sorry, Sir,” she moans out as Harry sinks deeper and deeper inside. Maybe he should’ve stretched her out first but God if it isn’t the most blissful discomfort. That initial entrance—knowing what her body is accommodating for and how far he reaches inside of her most private place.

As soon as she’s seated on him, completely and utterly full, Harry confines her wrists once again as he sits up and encourages Y/N to lean into him. Her breasts squish into his shirt. His shirt. That he is still wearing. “Come on, baby. Tire yourself out.”

Exhaustion is already seeping into her bones but Harry’s voice croons into her ears so tenderly—it coats her skin in a sheen of glitter and pumps sparkling wine through her veins. She makes every effort in lifting up and sinking back down—in, albeit, slow and wobbly movements—but the concentration on her face is like a drug to Harry. It has him thumbing over her nipple and taking it into his mouth again, which only has Y/N stuttering and inevitably stopping. She pants, and wiggles, and whines, enough so to have Harry placing both palms underneath the seam of her underwear and gripping her bum like he’d wanted.

He squeezes and stretches to his heart’s desire, mouth still firmly attached to her breast, but his strong hold aiding Y/N in moving once more. She’s lifted up and down, and up and down—slow enough to feel every ridge of him opening her walls.

“M-my legs hurt. Sir.” Y/N wishes she were a gym fiend as she admits it.

“Do they, love?” He pulls back from her chest, discontent to stop nibbling her skin raw but her voice is oh, so fragile. He’ll take care of her like he promises all the time. “Lean your head on my shoulder—keep your arms where they are.”

When she doesn’t immediately listen, and looks up to his eyes with a silently begging expression, he cocks his eyebrow. “Can I f-feel you? Your skin, please, Sir.” He’d left his clothes on, somewhat intentionally, but he doesn’t feel so mean in this moment. A nod is all the encouragement she needs, as Y/N unbuttons his shirt with clumsy fingers, and pushes it off his shoulder to rest her cheek upon. Her arms go back behind her and her nose moves forward to press into his neck deliciously. He smells of allure.

Harry can’t help himself when he tears her underwear from her body. She’s too soft, and warm, and wet to simply entertain the idea of pulling out of her. And from the noise she makes—a surprised squeak but no beratement—and the clench around his cock, he can only assume she likes it. Likes the desperation, or the display of strength, or his pure animal brain—it doesn’t matter. Because Harry’s kneading her ass in heavy handfuls, and moving her faster and faster, and Y/N is flooding his neck in her warm, tight pants—sweet whines falling out of her mouth.

“Beg me to come,” he grunts, granting Y/N no kind of warning before his fingers dig in harder and his hips slam into her at a speed that has her lungs forcing out high-pitched squeals. The sounds are nasty, unmistakable and unexplainable. The slap of skin, the wetness between her thighs, the noises that leave both their lips. It’s raw, and scaldingly hot, and— and… she needs to rub her clit.

“I— Sir, I can’t—”

“No?” His thrusts don’t falter, not even once. She’s on her back in a second, and her wrists are trapped underneath her. He makes no move to readjust them, only stretches her knee to the side so it pushes into the back of the sofa before grabbing a throw pillow and stuffing it under her hips. “Come on, beg me, little doll,” his hand spans across her mound, thumb meeting her clit in a back-arching press. This, has her cunt tightening—pulsating, contracting, strangling his cock. And with the pillow angling her just right, Harry can feel himself underneath his palm; it drives him batty.

He fucks her into the sofa, hard and unrelenting, leaning over her to chew on her tits once more. It’s sweaty, and messy, and that only makes it hotter. “Beg, Y/N.” His thumb rubs faster, expelling the choked up cry from her throat. She’s so close, is writhing underneath him—fighting the rolling of her eyes into the back of her skull.

“Please! S-sir, I—”

“That’s it. Good girl letting me fuck you—your sopping cunt, baby. Beg better than that, come on.”

His words send her spiralling, orgasm racing up on her and she panics that she won’t be given permission before it happens. “Oh my god! Oh, pleasepleaseplease, Harry!— Sir, please l-let me, please.” It’s adorable, Harry finds, her minimisation of the English dictionary when she’s so bent out of shape. Her pleading is less begging and more repetition, but he’ll let it slide.

He’ll let it slide as he presses his thumb harder and leans back to watch as he murmurs something akin to the value of diamond. “Come. Fucking come f’me, darlin’. Look at you.”

Y/N can’t hear anything. Not now. All she needed was that first word of permission and she’s seeing stars. Spasming around him so tight that Harry’s own moans started flowing out, pace increasing as he rolls her clit under his thumb. “Fuuuck, there you are. Keep squeezing like that, there’s a good girl.”

It takes her a while to come down from, no surprise considering Harry is still pounding into her, and her whimpers echo his moans—desperate and unabashed, his lips red and brows tight. He looks so handsome. So beautiful above her with his flushed skin and his flexing muscles, unbuttoned shirt floating around him. Y/N’s not sure she’s ever felt so peaceful, in a dreamlike state in all her vulnerability. And she keeps contracting around him, like he asks—because when he groans like that, she’d have to be a sadist not to—and as his moans build up in pitch, and his eyes meet hers in frenzied pleasure, she’s sure she wants him to come more than she’s ever wanted her own orgasm in her life.

Harry surges forward, smearing his lips all over Y/N’s mouth. It’s messy, and uncoordinated, and his tongue is slicking her skin. But it’s the hottest kiss she’s ever had. And it feels so good when his groans hit a crescendo, and his hips stutter, and Y/N can feel the warmth of his spurts inside the condom. She whimpers against his open mouth, arms losing all feeling behind her back, but she doesn’t care because his eyelashes are brushing against her cheek and it’s the most intimate thing she’s ever felt.

They’re lethargic, Harry’s movements, and he’d like to be much more alert but his body is tingling and Y/N is looking up at him so trustingly—he wonders if she’s fallen into a stupor.

“Th-thank you, Sir.”

He strokes her hip bones, pulling out with a soft hiss. Y/N whines a little at the sensitivity.

“You can call me Harry again now, if you like, darlin’.” He leans down to kiss her forehead, consuming palms holding her cheeks.

She’s not really listening. “Mm, feels… feel kinda drunk.” She smiles, nose turning into his thumb. Harry gives her another kiss and pulls away, to knot the condom and collect her clothes. Minus the pair of panties that are no longer wearable. He doesn’t feel even an ounce of guilt.

He’ll make her some food, watch as she eats it with her eyes begging to close, and then let her sleep in his bed—hoping she’ll want him to stay.

Little does he know that Y/N will wake up in the middle of the night to raid his kitchen in a matter of ways that Harry will reprimand her for.

But for right now, he’ll keep her as happy as he possibly can.

#harry styles #harry styles one shots #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles imagines #mutually beneficial #writing #domrry #dom!harry #fanfiction

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ameliora-j · 7 months

Note

Could you write smut with sub!niall? I would love it if Niall calls y/n “baby” all the time !! 🤗

𐐪𐑂 twisted tuesday is back! send in ur requests :>

content: sub!niall, dom!reader, this is more soft and fluffy than dark tbh, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG MDNI

niall trudges into the house from work, dark bags under his eyes due to the lack of sleep from the tireless hours of working. “baby,” he called, tone full of dejection as he walked into the door.

“hi, handsome prince” you smile from the kitchen where you’re making his favorite chicken. “dinner’s almost done my love, if you wanna go shower up and get changed” you say lovingly.

he nods, knuckling his eyes as a permanent pouch etches his lips. “can we cuddle after dinner tonight?” he murmurs softly and you nod.

when niall comes back, you already have his plate and his drink ready. he sits in his usual seat and you walk over to him, setting the plate and cup in front of him. “here, my love” you whisper, kissing his cheek gently. you lay the love on thick, cus you can tell he’s had a rough day.

you sit beside him, beginning to eat quietly. dinner is silent, and that worries you a bit because niall usually loves to talk about his day. the second his plate is finished, he’s trying to practically crawl into your skin. “hold on, my love. i’m almost done, okay?” you whisper. “why don’t you go lay in bed for me, hmm?” you smile lovingly.

he nods, kissing your head gently before going up the stairs. you finish dinner and rinse the plates before putting them in the dishwasher. once you get up the stairs, you see niall laying on the bed. you smile at him, walking over and straddling his thighs. “do you want to talk about it?” you whisper, scratching your nails over his scalp gently.

niall whines, shaking his head. “no please” he sniffles. “make me forget it all please” he whimpers cutely.

“oh my sweet prince” you frown softly, kissing him gently. he whines against your lips, bucking his hips up towards you as he grips your hip. “what do you need from me baby? how do you wanna forget?” you whisper, pushing his hair back.

“mouth please” he whines, causing you to nod. you hum softly, kissing across his chest and down his tummy. you nip and bite in some places, leaving your mark on him as he whimpers and squirms.

“baby, you need to stay still” you whisper softly. “i’ll take care of you, but only if you’re still, okay?” he nods rapidly, begging you not to deny his pleasure.

you pull his boxers off, smiling as you see his hard red cock, already leaking precum. “oh baby” you pout. “you’re so needy” you whisper, mouthing at his balls. he lets out the loudest whine imaginable, gripping the sheets tightly.

“please…” he begs softly. “not gonna last long…” he whimpers softly. you chuckle softly in response, humming as you engulf his cock in your mouth. he holds your hair, pushing you down a bit as you begin bobbing your head quickly.

he gasps softly, whining as he bucks up into your mouth. “baby… fuck” he moans, his head falling back as he tucks your hair lightly. “need to cum please make me” he whines.

you hum once more around him, forcing his cock all the way down your throat. you swallow a few times as you gag over his extensive length, reaching up and playing with his balls. niall lets out the longest and loudest moan imaginable, holding you down on his cock as he begins to babble out gratitudes and sing praises to your name.

you hum softly, bobbing your head a few more times, assuring his cock was clean as you swallowed around him. “good boy” you whisper softly, smoothing his hair back as you kiss his head.

#nsfw.nani #sub!niall #dom!reader #niall horan #twisted tuesday!

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narrycherries · 1 year

Text

🌼like it’s the only thing I’ll ever do🌼 part 3 (dadrry)

You and Harry finally get answers about what’s going on with the baby..

masterlist

word count: 4.3k

warnings/tags: Harry x reader, dadrry, fluff

Harry has been a nervous wreck ever since the baby had her fussing spell at the studio. He was so worried about her that it was making his stomach ache constantly. She continued to be so clingy and needy after they left that he had to sit in the backseat next to her, holding her little hand to keep her from crying. She only parted ways with him to be nursed. She seemed fine with that, and wasn’t trying to oppose you at all.

And now Harry’s trying to take breaths to calm himself down, the baby in his arms as he walked back into your bedroom. It was a little after four in the morning and she had began to cry. He gave her a bottle, figuring that was what the issue was, but he panicked when she continued to be whiny once the bottle was empty. That’s why he’s climbing in the bed with her now, laying her down on the mattress. You were still asleep, and he didn’t intend on waking you.

Neither of you were comfortable with her sleeping in the bed with you all night just yet, she was still too little. But Harry was planning to stay awake and literally watch her go back to sleep. He felt that keeping an eye on her was more important than sleeping. He had to make sure she wasn’t feeling any pain or looked uncomfortable in any way. He wished she could just tell him what’s going on.

He laid awake the rest of the night and into the morning. He distracted himself with a mindless game on his phone in hopes of staying awake. It worked, because when you groaned and opened your eyes at nine o’clock, you were met with the sight of the baby sitting against his chest, her fingers curiously hitting his phone screen. You stretched your limbs before turning onto your side to face them, your hand touching the side of her leg.

“Good morning, sunshine.” You said with a smile as she looked up at you, dropping the phone and leaning forward to crawl to you. It was a very short distance, but it made your heart melt. “Did you wake Dada up?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “She woke up at three thirty.. went back down at 4.. but I’ve been up since then.”

You furrowed your brows. “Babe, why? Do you feel okay?”

“M’so anxious.. she wouldn’t let me put her in the crib earlier.. wouldn’t let me leave her at all.”

You sighed gently while she grabbed onto the thin strap of your shirt, her pretty eyes on yours.

“Sweet girl, what’s gotten into you, hm?” You ask with a slightly frown. “Dada’s not gonna disappear, baby.”

“Ma ma ma.” She reached for your lip, and you didn’t stop her from grabbing it.

“Baby girl, don’t hurt Mama’s mouth, yeah? Dada’s gotta trim your nails.” Harry pulled her hand down, which got her attention.

She babbled to him, then decided to turn back towards him. He closed his eyes for a moment to compose his nerves. The baby gladly got comfortable against him, her back leaned on his abdomen and her hands messing with his fingers.

“I feel like m’not doing something right.”

You gulped softly, scooting over to be closer to them. “She’s just being a bit clingy, darling. Nothing’s wrong.”

“What if something is, though?”

Even though it was not the easiest thing to deal with, you completely understood Harry’s worry. Your baby was acting different than normal, and that alone is very concerning . Despite not noticing any obvious medical signs, you proposed an option.

“We can take her to the doctor today and get her checked out if you want to, but, baby, I think she’s just anxious to be away from you.”

His lips dropped as the baby turned her head to look at him, a smile on her precious face. He licked his lips and gently touched the side of her head, her soft hair that curled very subtly on the edges made his skin tickle.

“Princess, m’so scared for you, doll.” He grabbed her to bring her closer to his face. He fell onto his back, sitting her on his stomach after kissing her cheek. “Is your tummy hurting? Hm?”

You watched with a sinking heart as he gently rubbed his thumb over her belly while his hands held her in place.

“Dada wishes you could tell us, baby girl.”

“Don’t be scared, okay?” You grabbed his hand, giving it a hard squeeze. “She isn’t bloated or having any bad reactions.”

He shook his head. “Please.. can we take her to the ER?”

“I guess so. Did she have a bottle when she woke up?“ you asked while sitting up, the covers falling to your lap.

“Yeah a bottle and some Cheerios.”

He copied your actions and got off the bed with the baby in his arms, a protective hand against her back as he followed you to the bathroom. The baby started to whine as you disappeared. Harry caught up with you, a worried frown on his face.

“Now she’s doing it with you.”

You took a deep breath while sitting down on the toilet. Harry leaned against the doorframe, the baby reaching out for you.

“Give Mama a few seconds, baby. She isn’t going anywhere.”

“Can you get her dressed?”

“What if she freaks out when you’re out of her sight?”

You finished your business and got up to wash your hands. Harry moved closer to you as you rubbed your hands together under the water. The baby was grunting, her small hand on your shoulder as Harry watched your reflection.

“Hey, sugar plum.” You turned to face her, but didn’t take her from him. “Stay with Dada, okay? You gotta get dressed.”

“Darling, please don’t leave her.” Harry whined, sounding just as anxious as the baby.

“Harry, just put her clothes on, please.”

He didn’t want to argue with you, so when you walked past them to get your own clothes out and handle a few other things, Harry pressed a kiss to the baby’s cheek and headed towards her nursery.

His mind was scattered around - worrying thoughts and feared possibilities were fighting for his attention. What if something was wrong with her that they couldn’t see on the outside? Was it some sort of internal problem? The thought of his daughter experiencing pain that he couldn’t see or notice was frightening. He never wanted her to feel bad at all, let alone be unable to tell him. His hands were shaking as he grabbed a onesie and began dressing her after checking her diaper.

“M’so sorry you’re feeling bad, my girl. I hate this so much.” He told her as he pulled the fabric over her head and gently brought her arms through the holes. “God, I hope it’s just you being a bit clingy, baby, and nothing bad.”

Her eyes were locked on his face as he talked. For now, she was content.

There was a trace of guilt in Harry’s gut as you sat in the emergency room waiting area. He thought about the chance he’d be taking a spot from someone who actually needed it. But then again, what if his baby did need it? He couldn’t stop thinking about what could be wrong. He was holding the baby in his lap while your arm was around his neck, trying to keep him relaxed.

“Hope we brought enough Cheerios.” You said with a small laugh as the baby dug her hand into the container to grab a few pieces.

“I packed an extra bag.” He mumbled, his eyes glued to her face as she ate.

“Are you feeling okay?” You asked while bringing your hand to his chest, giving him slow circular rubs. “Your heart is racing.”

“Just nervous, baby.” He couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth from lifting as the baby turned her head to look at him, that specific name always got her attention. “Hope nothings wrong.”

“Everything will be okay.” You reminded him with a kiss to his cheek. “We’ve jsut got to stay grounded, yeah? If something is wrong.. we have to be brave.. can’t freak out, okay?”

He nodded. “I know, I know.”

“You picked out a cute outfit, Dada.” You said in a cheerful voice, the baby looking at him with a grin. She was wearing a yellow onesie with a white ruffled skirt. “Pretty girl.”

“Honey, M’scared.” Harry mumbled to you.

“Don’t be, Harry. It’s okay.” It hurt you to hear him say that so fearfully, but there was nothing more you could do aside from waiting for the doctor to check her out. “She seems like a happy little bug right now, hm?”

He chuckled as the baby shoved Cheerios in to her mouth, drool slipping down her face as she tried to eat her hand. “Making a mess, sugar plum.” He said to her as she stuck her wet hand back into the container, Cheerios sticking to her hand. “Still cute as a button, though, yeah?”

The door suddenly opened across the room, making Harry perk up. He secured the baby on his lap, waiting for her name to be called. You sat your hand on his thigh, hoping to give him some comfort in this very stressful situation.

“Mathews.” The lady called out, making Harry huff and fall against the back of the chair.

“Fuck.”

“Shh, don’t say that.” You nudged his side, even though he mumbled the word you didn’t like for people, including you two, to swear around the baby.

“Sorry, m’just.. I know she looks fine but.. that doesn’t mean she’s not important.”

You were not surprised anymore at his behavior. You shook your head and gently rolled your eyes, deciding to gather up the baby’s things in case you are called next.

“You’ve got to get your nerves together, babe. Relax.”

“I can’t.” He muttered back, feeling like you were going to mock him if he kept on. “There something’s wrong with our baby.”

You squeezed his knee. “And they’ll take care of her.”

He huffed again. “I know, darling.”

“Ma ma ma.” The baby started to get fussy, which only made Harry worry even more. She reached for you, l most knocking the Cheerios to the ground but Harry grabbed them. “Ma ma!” She was getting louder.

“Come here, baby girl.” You said calmly, for Harry’s sake mostly, and took her from his lap.

She was whining, but not crying so you were thankful for that. Harry watched her closely as she laid her head on your shoulder, her eyes looking at him curiously. He gave her a smile and softly rubbed her cheek with his thumb.

“Dada’s so sorry, my love. I just want you to be better.”

You weren’t sure why she suddenly wanted you, but it didn’t seem out of the ordinary. She was your child, of course she’d need you every now and then. Harry, of course, was letting this go straight to his worried mind.

“She’s okay, Daddy.. probably just a little sleepy.”

“Probably..” He sighed out, wishing he could just fix everything right now. “That’s not.. an answer.”

In order to prevent any more drama or chaos with him, you chose not to reply. He knew you were there for him, emotionally and physically. Everything was going to be okay. Deep down, he knew that, and you knew that. It was hard to keep a clear mind, and fighting or going back and forth about it isn’t going to help.

Five minutes of silence passed by. The baby was cuddled up against you, her eyes struggling to stay open. Harry was letting her hold onto his index finger, giving her up a little shake every couple moments to keep her alert. He didn’t want her to fall asleep just yet. Finally, after what felt like a century for Harry, the doors opened and a lady in pink scrubs leaned against the frame.

“Styles.”

Harry jumped up, grabbing the baby’s bag from the floor. You sighed to yourself as you stood, too, keeping the baby against your shoulder as you started to walk. Harry kept his hand on the small of your back, guiding you to the door. He was so antsy and nervous, fear had taken over his body completely.

“Hi, there, sweetheart.” The nurse said as the baby leaned up, her eyes curiously looking at the woman. “We’re going to get you feeling all better.”

Harry gulped at that, what if they couldn’t? The nurse gestured for you to step into a room after a few moments of walking. Harry was the last to enter, allowing the nurse to go ahead of him. He was extremely afraid of what was going to happen. You were about to sit down in one of the chairs when the woman spoke.

“Do you minding sitting on the chair here?”

“Oh, yeah.” You said with a smile as you used the metal step on the side to help you up.

“S’okay, baby girl.” Harry rushed to your side, the baby was whining a little.

“She’s okay, Harry.” You mumbled back as you got situated, opting to sit her on your lap.

The nurse gave you a smile, even she noticed Harry was being a bit dramatic. “Now, we just got another ER doctor in.. so things should be moving quicker. I’ll do some vitals on her real quick, make sure there’s nothing too extreme we need to worry about.”

“Okay, she’s normally content with these things.” You said as the lady grabbed a small sleeve to check the baby’s blood pressure. “So, i apologize if she gets fussy.”

She shook her head at you. “No worries, honey. If she does get a bit fussy that might help us out.”

Harry was sitting in one of the normal chairs now, his hands clamped together as he stared at the baby, watching her every little move. He felt like he was about to throw up.

The nurse didn’t take very long doing the vital checks. The moment she mentioned the possibility of having to do urine and blood tests, to get a better idea of what was going on internally, Harry started to panic and cry. There was nothing you could do about that, though. He was trying so hard to get his mind together, but the thought of his baby being so sick that she needed blood drawn was heart wrenching to him. It was just a suggestion that could be made, there was no set in stone decision yet. He was unable to realize that.

Once the nurse was gone, you were able to move to the chair next to him, the baby in your lap as one arm was around his shoulders. He was slumped against you, one hand covering his face and the other pressing against the baby’s stomach, making sure she was secured. He just cried for a few minutes, everything was crashing down at once and it was overwhelming.

Eventually, the doctor came to the room and took a look at the baby. He listened to your explanation of what was going on, and decided it would be best to try a few experiments.

“Alright.. so, I’m leaning towards nothing being wrong internally.” He said as he gently pushed against the baby’s stomach. She gave him a weird look and furrowed her brows, which made you smile. She had the cutest reactions. “She’s reacting to me how she should.. either she shouldn’t care or she’s like hey, who’s this guy touching me?”

You laughed quietly at his words, watching closely as the baby began to lose interest in the doctor. He pushed harder, and she was just looking around, not reacting in any bad ways. He nodded to himself and moved to her side, still pressing down to try to detect any internal pain. Nothing was happening that was out of the ordinary.

“Now, we can’t just feel the head or the brain to check. So, if you want us to do a scan on her head, we can definitely do that. But.. I think it’s just going to be some normal anxiety issues.”

You glanced over at Harry as he said that - it was the same thing you had told him several times already.

“That’s what I was assuming.” You sighed gently.

“Based on what’ve you said about how she reacts when you leave or.. her struggle to stay asleep.. I think that’s going to be our answer.”

“I want a scan done, please.” Harry said suddenly, making everyone look over at him.

The doctor rotated his stool slightly to get a better angle. “If that’s a desire you two have, we will have no issue going through with that.” The doctor said. “But first I’d like to do a few things.”

The doctor rolled the stool back, creating some distance from you. He wrote a few things down on his clipboard before sitting it aside and looking back at you.

“Alright, how about we do this. Mom, give her over to Dad and step out of the room for me. We’ll keep the door open for now. Just stand facing away from us.”

You swallowed, but nodded. There was nothing you weren’t willing to do for your baby. You got off the chair and passed her to Harry, kissing her temple softly before letting her go. You didn’t say anything to her, just walked to the door and opened it. You weren’t aware, but the baby turned her head towards you and frowned, her hand reaching out for you. It made Harry’s heart hurt - this was like torture for the baby. You were standing where half of your body was visible.

“Alright, Mom.. now go a little down the hall and I’ll shut the door.” The doctor said as he stood up and grabbed the handle.

You disappeared from the doorway and the door shut. The baby began to whine, hitting her hand against Harry’s shoulder. She was glancing around the room, trying to find you. It was making Harry’s stomach ache as he watched her - confused and unsure. He looked at the doctor, who was just watching the baby closely.

“Alright.” He stood up and opened the door, gesturing for you to come back.

The moment you did, the baby’s eyes lit up and she grinned, reaching for you. You weren’t sure if you could take her just yet, so you gave her a smile and sat down by Harry.

“Now, Dad’s turn.”

Harry gulped as looked over at you. It was all so surreal for him. Why would someone want to torture his baby this way? It was cruel, and it was a waste of time. Of course, it actually wasn’t cruel at all. Harry tended to be more dramatic when it came to the baby. She didn’t give Harry a second of her attention as he passed her to you. You sat her in your lap and let her get comfortable as Harry stood up.

At first, she didn’t realize he had even moved from beside her because she was occupied with playing with your thumb on her belly. But the second she heard the door creak open and shut, she lifted her head and looked next to her, expecting to see her father’s lap or maybe even his eyes looking at her. But there was nothing.

“Ma ma ma!” She whined out, twisting around towards you.

You didn’t say anything, just watched as she reacted to him missing. She struggled to stand up on your thighs, so you helped her up and held on to her tight. The doctor let it go on for about thirty seconds, then called for Harry to come back in.

Everything went back to normal the moment Harry sat down next to you. The baby didn’t even want him, she just needed him to be close by.

“So, when does she normally get like this? When you’re in public or around other people in a smaller room?” The doctor said as he crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on the baby.

“Constantly.” Harry said, it surprised you that he actually decided to do the talking. “If I leave the room for a second, she’ll get fussy. If the two of us aren’t sitting or laying with her constantly she.. she gets upset.”

“Has this been going on a while?”

You shook your head. “Not to this extent. It started getting bad yesterday and we just.. didn’t want to wait in case it was something else.”

The baby babbled to herself as she reached for Harry’s arm. He offered to take her and she practically jumped into his hands, making him chuckle and snuggle her close.

“I’m going to safely say that there is nothing medically, internally, or dangerously wrong with your baby.” The doctor sighed, but offered you a kind smile. “She’s at the age where she’s developed a very secure attachment to her parents and.. anxiety is quite common. She may have days where it’s not as bad, and some when it’s worse. But, she’ll be okay.”

“There’s.. nothing we can do?” Harry asked with furrowed brows and a frown.

“There are pediatric medications.. but I wouldn’t suggest jumping straight onto those. Maybe give this a few weeks, months even, and if things don’t improve in any way.. see your pediatrician for further treatment.”

You took a deep breath. “And the tests? Everything was fine?”

“Yes, from the results we have already, everything is fine. We can still do a brain scan or the blood test if you’re wanting to. No harm in doing that.”

You felt a weight lift off your shoulders. Not only is your baby okay, but Harry will be okay. He’s been so hyped up over this that you had worried he was going to lose his mind. The two of them are your favorite people in the world, and they’re finally both okay. You turned your head towards Harry, biting your tongue as you watched the baby gently pat her hand against Harry’s cheek. He gave her a grin, then smushed a kiss to her cheek, making her squeal. She was happy.

“We don’t need a scan. Thank you so much for everything.”

Harry didn’t say anything, mainly because he knew you were level headed and had this under control. He heard the doctor say nothing was wrong that could be dangerous, and that’s all he really needed to hear.

Harry was exhausted by the time you returned home. He had hardly slept any, and it was catching up to him. You suggested a nap after a quick lunch, which he didn’t turn out. After helping you clean up, he took the baby upstairs to change her out of her now food stained clothes, her baby food landed more on her body than in her mouth. Eventually, you made it to the bedroom where you found them under the covers, Harry’s arm around the baby as she laid on her side, curled into his chest.

“You were right, by the way.. You always know everything.” Harry said through a sigh as you pulled the covers back to slip underneath them.

You smiled, but just shook your head at him. He reached over to drape his arm over your side as you got comfortable next to the baby, not too close though - you didn’t want to smother her.

“Did you give her a bath?” You asked in a whisper as the smell of her lotion quickly took over your nose.

“No, I felt like I was rubbing her skin off when I was cleaning her up.. so I put some lotion on her.”

“You’re the best daddy in the world, y’know?” You sat your hand over his elbow, thumb rubbing his skin in a slow, circular motion. Sometimes he needed the simple things like that.

He huffed. “I freaked out.. like a psycho. I.. I should’ve known it was just..” He stopped himself, gulping gently as his eyes moved down to the sleeping baby next to him.

“You were worried, baby. So was I. There’s nothing wrong with being worried or afraid.” You reminded him, hoping that would ease his nerves - but you knew him too well.

“I lost all the common sense I had, babe. I.. it was like I was freakin’ crazy.”

Dealing with him could ware you out sometimes. Ever since the day you found out you were pregnant, he’s been struggling with anxiety and worry. He doesn’t ever want anything to happen to you or the baby, and it’s a constant thought that refuses to leave his mind.

“You were just worried about our little baby, Harry. Don’t beat yourself over this. You’re the best daddy ever.”

He let the tension go in his shoulders, but he never looked away from her. “I dunno what I’d do if anything ever happened to her.. m’so glad she’s okay.”

“I love you, okay?” You pinched his skin to get his attention.

His eyes shifted to meet yours, a soft smile came to his lips. “I know. I love you more.”

“Look at her, all warm and cozy, hm?” You laughed slightly, admiring the way she was laying.

Her legs were pulled up to her stomach, and both hands were tucked between her body and Harry’s. She was comfortable and content, to say the least. He smiled as he glanced at her, so glad that he was holding her in your bed and not in a hospital bed.

“Our little love bug.” He whispered softly, not wanting to disturb her.

“Take a nap, okay? You need it just as much as she does.”

(a/n: this is the final “part” of this concept (the baby being “sick”), but.. I am definitely willing to write more for this pairing! Should I reveal baby styles’s name in the next update?)

Taglist: @cherrymelonx @mydearestsunflower6 @oh-austin @coralsweetsharmony @eiffelmezarry @eddieisdadddy @cupcakemachete @s0phlabrunette @fangirl125reader @luvonstyles

@theroosterswife24 @victoriasigaard @ariiscringe e @harrystylesrealwifeong @harlowsgirl @lomllover @haniaaa04

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hsdiaries · 1 month

Text

Oh Anna.

4.9k words - LHH!harry x best friend!original character x Niall.

Threesome, oral f & m recieving, p in v. Slight praise, slight dom.

Harry & Niall play a game on who can make Anna come more.

I pushed through the crowd, making my way to the back of the house. I hated parties, truly everything about them was pointless to me. Drunken fake conversations with people I wouldn't even remember tomorrow. I wasn't planning on coming, I was already in my bed when Anna texted me.

Anna:

Please come Haz. I want you here.

That was all it took and I was out of bed in skinny black jeans and a baggy grey tee; hair tied up in a bun. Now I was here, pushing my way through the crowd at Niall's house; all because his girlfriend said she wanted me here.

Yeah, that's right, his girlfriend.

Anna, Niall and I had been best friends for as long as I can remember. Niall and I always fighting for her attention since the moment we met her.

Obviously he won.

Yet, I was never fully convinced that he won every bit of it. She never stopped being flirty with me. Never stopped being touchy. Never stopped staring at me with those damn honey eyes.

I finally spotted my friends at the back of the house, on the normal grey couch we would all always congregate at. I pushed through the final group of people, as Niall turned and faced me.

"H! You came! What the hell?" He said walking over and embracing me. I chuckled and nodded.

"Decided I missed your pale Irish arse," I raised my eyebrows at him, causing him to laugh a big belly laugh.

"What's so funny?" I heard the sweetness of her voice behind us, and I released Niall, turning to face in her direction.

"Nothing, just Niall's face." I shrugged and he shoved me as we both laughed.

Anna giggled, her bottom lip disappearing behind her teeth before pursing out softly, "I mean, sometimes." She moved her honey brown eyes from me to wink at Niall.

"Yet you love me." Niall said, leaning close and kissing her nose, making me look away.

"Sometimes." She responded, glancing over at me. She was wearing a green crop top, high waisted jeans. She moved over to hug me and the smell of Black Opium filled my lungs. It was her signature scent.

"Thanks for coming." She said once Niall turned his attention back to the group. The pink of her lips was almost red today, I loved how the plumpness of the bottom always settled on her chin a bit.

"Only for you. Just remember that." I winked at her as she let me go, a smirk appearing on her face.

"Sooo, I brought us something..." she said addressing the group while still holding my gaze.

"And what would that be?" Tanya said, Anna moving her attention over. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small baggie with blue pills. Blue pills this group was really familiar with.

Tanya's eyes widened and she snatched the bag waving it around at the group, "Baby Anna always pulling through!" She quickly opened the bag, taking one out and popping it in her mouth like it was candy. She passed the bag around, our group each taking one. The baggie got to me and I grabbed it, handing it back to Anna.

"That's yours, H." She said, just looking at the bag then back at me.

"Not tonight, Anna." I said, and instantly she had those eyes. The soft ones, that narrowed in such a sexy manner.

"Please H. We have so much more fun." She pouted, her hand on my arm, causing me to swallow hard. Niall wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her towards him.

"Yeah, H, come on." He pretended to pout, fluttering his lashes at me causing me to laugh.

"Alright, alright, but you lot are responsible for waking my ass up tomorrow!" I said, emptying out the last pill in my hand before popping it in my mouth. Anna smirked, peeking up at Niall then back at me.

"Deal." She said, biting her lip.

—

Everyone started to feel the drug around the same time. It became an instant love fest. Hugs, kisses and so much touching. This was the normal with us, a giant orgy of a fucking friend group. Truth was everyone had fucked, touched, kissed done just about everything with everyone.

Except Anna and I.

It was the one boundary I never crossed.

But tonight, I wanted to cross it a million times over. I sat on the couch as everyone was up dancing. Tanya had found herself attached to my neck, her legs across mine as she nipped, sucked and kissed at my skin. She was trying to work me up, to get me to return the same lust towards her, but my eyes were fixed on Anna as she danced on Niall.

I watched as she reached her hands up, wrapping around Niall's neck, her perfect ass moving in motions that would drive any man wild, pushing back against him. He had his hands all over her, along her waist line, her hips. I saw him reaching between her legs, applying pressure in ways I knew I could do better. She tossed her head back onto his shoulder, turning her face so she could suck at his neck. I closed my eyes, pretending Tanya was Anna. Pretending she was dancing on me, her ass moving against my cock, it hardening at the idea of being that close to her.

I opened my eyes, looking back over at her and to my surprise she was already looking at me. Her eyes were skimming over the situation that was Tanya, her lips pursing. She shook her head, using it to call me over. I wasn't sure at first, until she mouthed the word.

"Come here." Her lips curled and I didn't hesitate.

"'Scuse me." I said pushing Tanya gently off of me.

"Harry, what the fuck!" I heard her say, but it didn't matter because I was moving straight to where I was being called.

I moved to stand in front of Anna, licking my lower lip, "You called."

She giggled and nodded, peeking up at Niall, "Baby, can I dance with Harry?"

Niall opened his eyes, as if coming to for the first time in a while, clearly on more than just the molly, "Yeah, that's fine." He said kissing her neck, "Just for a little." He started to let her go and she quickly grabbed his arm, turning around to face him.

"No, I want to dance with both of you." She said slyly, her hand moving up his arm. He looked down at her hand, then back to her face. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, feeling overwhelmed by everything going on. I wanted to touch her already, and I didn't want to wait for his response.

I moved forward, wrapping my arm around Anna's waist, pressing my cock into her ass. I was already hard and I wanted her to know it. I felt a pang of energy flow through me as she rolled her hips softly back, grinding on me. I felt my eyes want to close, but I had to do something first. I had to make Niall think this was his idea.

"She thinks she can handle us both mate, ain't that a funny thought." I said, smirking over at him. He narrowed his eyes a bit at me, taking in the situation then shaking his head.

"We ain't doing this mate. Not with her." He said, running his hands through his hair, watching my hands move over her stomach.

"Doing what?" Anna said, a slight innocence that didn't suit her layering her voice.

I took a chance, the risk of Niall decking me was something I could take. I turned my face into her neck, running the tip of my nose along the length of it. I heard her inhale sharply, pressing my lips against her neck. I didn't kiss her, I just spoke against it.

"Niall and I, we used to have a certain thing we liked to do. It was a game almost." I said, pressing a soft kiss against her neck.

I heard her hum softly, a slight laugh escaping her lips, "Mm, a game? What was the game baby?" She said, pulling him closer to her. Niall's eyes searched Anna's face before his eyes shifted to me.

"Haz..." he said, his face so serious.

"He's scared I'll win if we dare to play again." I smirked, and he cocked his head to the side.

"You forget I have the upper hand here Styles." He said, challenging me, so I knew my taunting was working.

"And yet, I'd still win." I said, raising and lowering both my eyebrows, my lips moving back to Anna's neck causing her head to fall back slightly.

That's when it happened, the switch in Niall's head, "We used to see who could make a girl come more. That's the game."

Anna's head went straight, her face turning to me and then to Niall, "But then couldn't one of you just lie?"

"Oh no, Anna," I said, my hand wrapping around her neck, my thumb and pointer finger applying the softest pressure. I moved my lips to her ear, "We did it at the same time, taking turns. Whatever worked."

"Oh..." she swallowed, her face turned to me, and I loosened my grip on her neck a bit, then back to Niall. She licked her pink lips, "I wanna play." She said softly.

Niall took a deep breath, swallowing hard before he glared up at me, "Fine. Once everyone leaves, until then, keep your hands off her." He pulled her out of my arms and I chuckled, quickly reaching down and adjusting myself. I threw my hands up in defense and nodded.

"Hands off. 'Til later anyways." I smirked.

—

Everyone had slowly left the party, I sat on the couch, sipping on a whiskey. I laid my head back on the couch, closing my eyes, the molly was making me jittery at this point, but I didn't know what to do with all the extra energy.

As I sat, I felt someone climb on me, a leg on either side of me. My freehand moved to feel a bare leg, making me question who it was; but it was the damn Black Opium that let me know it was Anna. I smirked, keeping my head back and eyes closed.

"Is it game time already?" I teased and she giggled. I was surprised to feel her lips on my neck, my senses flying out the window the moment it happened. She kissed up to my ear, biting it softly.

"Niall's just locking up. I told him I was going to get started." She said, before pressing her lips on my earlobe.

Fucking hell.

I opened my eyes, sitting up and she pushed back so we could lock eyes, "Be an angel and place this down for me." I said, before quickly downing my whiskey and handing her the glass. I held onto her waist as she bent back placing the glass on the floor. She was in just her crop top and lace burgundy thong. I helped her sit back straight on me, but I pulled her closer to me, so our faces were inches from each other.

"I'm going to win," I whispered, "And you're going to regret not picking me."

Anna's POV

I searched his eyes and swallowed hard. There was a darkness that filled his eyes, just as his hand cupped my face pulling me in and kissing me deeply. His tongue quickly finding mine. For a moment I didn't know what to do with my hands, still completely stunned by his initial comment. Before I even had a chance to think about it, I felt someone pull me off of him; flipping me around. My back was pressed into Harry, both of us falling back against the couch. Niall leaned down, biting at my lower lip, before kissing me deeply. He broke the kiss, looking over my shoulder at Harry, "I'll start."

He winked, standing up straight and slipping off his shirt; before lowering himself back down. He slipped his arms under the bend of my knees, slipping me down Harry's body so that my ass was hanging between the open space of Harry's legs. He dropped down to his knees, his lips moving up right thigh, placing kisses up it. His tongue moved up my thigh, skimming along the front line of my thong; tracing the bend of my upper thigh and hip. It drove chills through me, his lips moving to my center, his tongue lapping on my clit over the thin material of my thong.

My head fell back, remembering I was laying on Harry. I peeked up at him and he smirked, his hands soon on my body. His hands were so big, strong as they touched me, moving over my tits. He palmed at them over my crop top, my nipples hardening and I wanted nothing more than for him to slip it off me. Meanwhile, Niall's hands were on my hips, pulling my thong down and off my body. He bit at my legs as he made his way back to my middle, his tongue soon met my folds, moving my wetness along every part of my center.

"Mmm," I hummed, my hands reaching down into Niall's hair and as if I was giving him too much attention; Harry's hands pushed down my top, one hand on each of my tits, his fingers teasing at my nipples.

His lips were on my cheek, placing kisses on it as his hands moved on me. His lips moving down to my ear, whispering softly, "You feel good, Anna?" I felt myself nod, as Niall's tongue rolled on my clit, he sucked at it, causing my eyes to roll back, "You like when he eats you out like that angel? His tongue taking in your sweetness."

His words made me push Niall's head down further on me, his tongue moving down my slit, creating a figure eight motion along my opening, up to my clit. Each time he reached my clit he would suck on it softly, building an anticipation in me for every time it would come. Niall knew it drove me insane and he was using it to his advantage.

"Oh god, yes." I moaned out, and Harry pulled at my already hard nipples, causing me to yelp from the mixture of pain and pleasure I was feeling. He slapped my tits, palming at them to soothing the pain, and I heard myself whimper at the sensation. He did it, again and again, Niall adjusting himself to slip two fingers inside of me, instantly curling in me and meeting my sweet spot.

"Oh, fuck, Ni—that feels so...oh god." I moaned, my hips beginning to buck towards him, his fingers curving in me, his tongue on my clit. I felt every bit of me tremble at the feeling of being touched like I was, Niall's gentle roughness, mixed with Harry's aggressive nature was driving me to my edge.

"That's it angel, does he feel good? Do you feel good being eat out like that by him, hmm?" His hand moved up to my neck, choking me as his other hand kept rolling my nipples in his fingers. Niall moved his face, his thumb replacing his tongue on my clit, his fingers still moving inside me, quickly along my g spot, in and out.

"Look at me, petal." He cooed at me, and I bit my lip, struggling to move my eyes to him, "Come for me love." He encouraged me as my eyes found his. His thumb moving quick circles over my clit. My mess was clear on his chin and when he licked his lips, my back arched.

"Oh ... fu .. Niall." I moaned his name, my head falling back. Harry turned my face to his, kissing me deeply, his tongue running past mine. I moaned into our kiss, feeling the knot in my stomach the quicker Niall moved his thumb and his fingers. I broke the kiss, rest my forehead against Harry's cheek, whimpers escaping me.

"Come Anna, come so I can finally show you what you've been missing." Harry whispered and that was enough to take me there. The thought alone of finally have Harry touch me in this way carried me straight to my high. I felt myself clench around Niall's fingers, my mess spilling all over him.

"Oh god, yes. Mmm..." I said, feeling my body go limp. I didn't have a moment to breath, soon Harry was pulling me up, and laying me on the couch, leaving space between my head and the arm rest. I watched as he hovered over me, I took him in, his muscles, his tattoos. He was beautiful and I couldn't deny it. He unbuttoned his pants, his hard length clearly being suffocated by his tight pants. I pushed up, trying to help him, to offer relief and he quickly pushed me down.

"He's going to need you more than me." He said, pointing with his eyes in Niall's direction. I turned to face him, he was down to just his briefs, his hard length filling them up. He walked over and kneeled down, kissing me. I reached up and pulled his face closer to mine, thanking him for my high. He groaned against my lips, and I reach down, my hand palming over his length.

In that moment Harry placed three fingers on my clit, his motions were painstakingly slow on me, but due to my sensitivity from my previous high, it felt like he was moving quickly. I broke my kiss from Niall. Looking over at Harry, I felt a whine escape me, my hips pushing forward against his fingers and he used his free hand to push me down.

"Patience, angel. I know your sensitive right now. I know this still feels so good, don't it?" He teased and I felt my eyes roll back slightly.

"Harry please, oh god..." I begged but his fingers kept moving slowly on me.

"Come here." I heard Niall say, turning my face towards him, he squeezed my cheeks softly, slipping his thumb into my mouth, "Lend me your mouth, petal?" He said as he pulled out his cock from his briefs, precum already on his pink tip. I nodded in his hold, hungry for him, feeling so many sensations all over my body being touched by both of them. He pushed his cock in my mouth, not allowing anytime to adjust, shoving his length to the back of my throat. I swallowed against his length causing him to groan.

"Fuck Anna, your mouth." He said, pulling out only to thrust back in, over and over. My saliva was all over his cock, dribbling down my chin as he moved. His groans mixed with my name and Harry's slow movement on my clit made the knots in my stomach start to form.

"You look so pretty with his cock in your mouth, Angel." Harry said, his finger still moving in slow circles on my clit, my moan vibrating against Niall's cock as he pushed it deep in my throat.

"An — fuck baby." He pulled out, ramming back into my mouth, holding my head tight so I couldn't pull away. I felt my legs start to tremble, Harry's teasing movements on my clit starting to become so overbearing I knew I was going to come again. I pushed against Niall, needing to gasp for air. He pulled out, a string of my saliva clinging onto his cock. I turned to look at Harry, his cock was in his hand, pumping up and down his length as his fingers moved on me.

"Har — Uh, Harry I'm going to come, please don't stop." I said, my head falling back as I felt my release happen. As I began coming, he began moving his fingers faster on me, moving quickly from side to side on my clit. I screamed out in pleasure, "Harry, please." I moved my hand down to grab his but Niall quickly stopped it, wrapping his hand around my wrist. He brought it over my head, grabbing the other and doing the same. He had placed his foot up on the couch behind my head. He leaned down and kissed me, his tongue finding mine as Harry's fingers kept moving quickly on my clit.

"We can't play the game if you interrupt, baby." He said against our kiss, my moans causing me to turn my head away. Niall pushed up, letting go of my hands and moving to palm at my breasts, pinching my nipples as he did. I couldn't find the end of my current high and the start of the new one Harry was causing.

"Oh, oh god...fuck that feels so good." I moaned, my back arching, my hands reaching up to grab Niall's cock in them, I moved them along his length, my palm running over his tip. I moved another to palm at his balls.

"Fucking hell Anna. Fuck." He groaned, pinching my nipples hard and tugging them up. I licked my lips, feeling my releasing coming again, Harry fingers moving quicker.

"Come for me angel, come for me" Harry said, Niall's groans lacing with my moans created the most beautiful sound in the living space we were in, "God, yours so fucking wet Anna, come all over me baby, make more of mess on me, come on be a good girl my sweet angel."

"Oh—fuck, fuck, fuck." I yelled out, my legs trying to squeeze shut as he made me come again, an orgasm like I had never felt before shot through my body. I didn't have a moment ride it out, to come down from it, because soon Niall was sitting me up.

He sat on the arm rest of the couch, pulling me up so that my legs were between his. He held my body up, so I was hovering over him. I felt him wasting no time, rubbing the tip of his cock against my opening. The thing about Niall was, his cock was not only big in length, but in girth as well. He began pushing himself in me, lowering me onto himself. I moaned out in pleasure, my hands gripping onto his thighs. I was so wet, I had no problem adjusting around him. He moved me up and down his cock, my hips rolling on him each time he lowered me down.

"Niall, you feel so good." I moaned, tossing my head back onto his shoulder, I turned my head, kissing at his neck, biting it causing him to groan. I could see Harry out of the corner of my eye moving towards us on the couch. He stopped right in front of us on his knees.

I watched as he lowered his head down, his tongue finding my clit, rolling circles on it as I rolled my hips on Niall's cock. In doing so I kept pushing against his tongue, my head pushing back further on Niall's shoulders, my moans escaping me as my hand reached down and tangled itself in Harry's hair. His bun had become loose and messy, and I wanted it completely out. I pulled his mouth off me, pulling him up so we could lock eyes, Niall beginning to thrust fast into me as I kept rolling my hips.

"Fu—Fuck, oh god yes Niall...fuck." I said, all while holding eye contact with Harry. He narrowed his eyes at me, reaching between my legs, moving his fingers roughly against my clit, causing screams to escape me.

"I thought it was a game?" I said, forcing the words out of me.

"Fuck the game," he said, moving his fingers on me faster, he moved his body closer to mine, kissing me deeply, his tongue messily moving on mine. I felt Niall yank my head back by the hair, moving my lips to his but this didn't stop Harry. He moved it kiss me as well, all of our lips moving against each others, Niall's cock thrusting deeper inside me, Harry's fingers slowing down against my clit only to speed up, rolling along it, moving side to side.

"Oh, god, fu—uck...please..." my moans were interrupted by Harry taking control and kissing me deeply, his tongue running along mine, as his fingers kept moving on me. I could feel ever single one of my muscles tense up. I was so close to my high. I gripped onto Niall's thighs so I could bounce on him. Moving up and down his length, squeezing against him as I did, causing him to groan.

"Fuck Anna, fuck baby." He said, thrusting up as I moved my body down, hitting right against my sweet spot, pushing me over the edge. I felt every muscle release, I felt my release all over him. I broke from my kiss with Harry, my head tossing back as I moaned out in pleasure. Harry's mouth moving to my tits, sucking them as I rode out my high on Niall's cock.

"Come 'ere." I heard Harry say, my head falling back straight as he pulled me off Niall. He quickly flipped me so I was laying on the couch, bringing my left leg over his shoulder. He held his cock in his hand, rubbing against my opening, his thumb on clit. He began to slip inside me, his eyebrows furrowing as he hissed.

"God damn it, Anna...uh.." he groaned as he slipped inside me, my hands gripping at his biceps as he did. I took him in, in a way I hadn't ever before. His bare skin, his tattoos, they way his muscles flexed as he pushed in and out of me. He was so god like it felt unfair. As he pushed further in me, he pushed my leg toward my body, my thigh pushing against my torso. He was slipping in so deep, I felt like I couldn't handle all of him.

"Fuck, Harry...don't stop." I moaned, my eyes locked on his as I felt him pick up his pace. I for a moment forgot Niall was there until he appeared over me.

"I hate how much you're enjoying this petal." He said, reaching down and choking me, "I hate his bloody name coming out of your mouth like that." He said, Harry snickering, moving quicker in me, his strokes felt long and hard. I knew he was getting off on making Niall jealous and it was turning me on more.

"But he feels so fucking good." I choked out, knowing I was only adding fuel to the fire. I let my eyes roll back, moans escaping me as Harry kissed along my calf as he fucked me.

Niall slid his hand up to my jaw, turning my face toward his, "Open that pretty mouth petal, let me see your tongue."

I did as he asked, my tongue sticking out for him as he spit on it, before shoving his length in my mouth. My tongue immediately smooth along him, gagging as he pushed himself deeper in me. He was holding my face, his hand under my chin, groan escaping him.

Both of them, were fucking me relentlessly, Niall giving me small breaks to catch my breath before is cock filled my mouth again. Harry's thumb teasing my clit, slow and fast circles on me. He would add more of his body weight on my leg, pushing it closer to my body allowing him deeper in me.

I moaned, gagging every time I did, I was going to come again, I couldn't fight it. I knew they both were close to. Harry's movements becoming sloppy, his moans more consistent. Niall was gripping at his balls as he kept fucking my mouth, muttering my name like he did just before he came.

We were all going to come undone together, the thought making me push my hips up to meet Harry's. Niall's hand moving over my tits, pinching hard at my nipples.

And then everything went still. Quiet. Both of them groaning, exhaling that breath they had take as they came, their release filling me one way or another. Niall pulled out of my mouth, his thumb pressing on my lower lip, as I squeezed against Harry, keeping him inside me. He whimpered at the feeling, gripping onto my hips.

"Swallow like a good girl." Niall said, and I nodded, closing my lips against his thumb, and swallowing his come. I licked my lips and he bent down, kissing me deeply as Harry pulled out of me slowly, both of us groaning at the sensation. I felt him place a small kiss on my clit, then my thighs, before removing himself from me. He pushed off the couch, walking around so he was behind my head, leaning down, and shoving Niall's face from mine. He kissed me deeply and soon Niall and him were fighting for my lips.

I chuckled, turning so neither of them could kiss me. I turned back and looked at both of them, a small smirk on my face. "I'll gladly play this game again."

"Right now?" Harry teased.

"You two couldn't keep up." I winked, both of them looking at each other then back at me.

"Try us." Niall smirked, before kissing me again.

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defiledheartsblog · 18 days

Text

I just released another monthly smut, thus increasing the smut backlog in size. This month's interactive smut and the backlog are available on my Patreon for patrons in Outraged Fox tier (and up). Now, the backlog includes:

June 2023: Kinda toxic smut with Marcus in a cave

July: Quinn wakes you up from a nightmare and is pretty weird about it

August: Niall gets ambushed by Hati in the middle of naked druid rituals (as one does)

September: Kinda toxic Legate smut

October: Fooling around with a dom Camilla in her wine cellar

November: Hati becomes the offering to Tinsae's goddess (another perfectly normal day in the peaceful town of Moguntiacum)

December: Drinking game with Niall and Marcus

January 2024: Reading poetry with Marcus

February: Quinn hogties you. As one does

March: Monster loving

This month's (April) chosen smut RO is Niall.

#defiled hearts: the barbarian #interactive fiction #smut #patreon

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justice4canyonmoon · 1 year

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something about y/n losing her virginity to harry? please

I hope you enjoy almost 3k words of the softest filth I've ever written 😉 Also, I pictured this as LHH (my beloved) so that's why he's described as having long hair!

warnings: smut!! 18+ only!! vaginal fingering, nipple play (briefly), p in v sex, loss of virginity, innocent reader, soft dom! harry

WC: 2.8 k

Your parents always told you to wait until marriage. Said it wasn’t “ladylike” to give yourself to someone before you were truly dedicated to one another for life. And for a long time you believed them. But now, you were about to graduate college, and you still hadn’t had sex. Your friends all had: Sarah, Mitch, Adam, Harry, Niall, and all of the other people you hung out with found someone to suit them (with Mitch and Sarah it was each other, which you all totally called your freshman year). But you still hadn’t. And you had to say, you didn’t really believe your parents anymore. You wanted to see what the fuss was about. And you wanted it with Harry.

You had always had a bit of a crush on him: the long curls, bright green eyes, full lips, and dimple had drawn you in when you first met in your math class, but his sweet smile, gentle laugh, and kindness made you fall head over heels. Every time he got a new partner, your heart broke a little more, and every time he broke up with them, it healed again. You went through this vicious cycle all throughout your schooling, but tonight, you thought maybe you could break out of it. Harry had been single throughout your whole senior year, and your friends were hanging out at his place tonight. Maybe you could get him alone…

“Alright, I think you’ve had a few too many, Mitch. I’ll get him home.”

Sarah held her boyfriend up, still giggling at how he could barely get up from the chair. Adam had already gone home, since he had an 8-page final essay due for his writing class, and Niall hadn’t been able to come since he was studying for his music theory final. As soon as Harry finished helping Sarah get Mitch out to her car, he came back to find you still on his couch, taking a small sip from the bottle of hard cider you had been drinking. You purposefully didn’t drink enough to get you drunk, wanting to remember this. Sure, this could go horribly wrong and Harry could reject you and not want to be your friend again. But maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way as you. And you would get what you wanted.

“Will you need a ride home? Or are you okay to drive?” he asked.

You smiled, “I’ve only drank one bottle of cider. I’ll be fine, H.”

He smiled back, sitting beside you once more, “Can’t believe it’s almost over. I’ll miss you all when we go.”

“Me too,” you replied, “but I think I’ll miss you the most.”

Harry quirked up a brow, his smile becoming more of a smirk, “Oh, really? And why would that be?”

You sighed, pushing down your nerves and steeling yourself for a potential rejection.

“Because I want you, H. As more than just my friend.”

You paused, waiting for his answer. You locked eyes, trying to read his expression, but it was unusually blank. There was silence. A bit too much. Then his response.

“I wish you had told me that earlier. Before we were about to move home.”

You took one of his large hands in yours, interlacing your fingers.

“I’ve liked you for so long, Harry. But it seemed like every time I worked up the nerve to say something, you’d be with someone else. I didn’t want that to happen again, so I just didn’t say anything,” you explained.

His eyes softened, holding a twinge of guilt, “Only dated other people because I didn’t think I could be yours. Didn’t want to ruin the friendship.”

He brought your hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. You couldn’t help but get a little flustered, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

“I felt the same way. Except I just stayed single because I’m a loser,” you joked.

A frown stretched across his lips, “No, you’re not. Don’t say things like that.”

“Well no one’s ever fucked me, so I think that might be true.”

And there it was. The invitation you wanted to send. You could only hope that he would accept.

Harry looked you in the eyes, his expression unusually serious compared to the bright eyed, joyful man you’d come to know.

“I don’t ever want you to think that about yourself. You’re such a lovely person, could never be a loser,” you smiled bashfully at that, but he continued, “and, well, if you’d like to change that…”

He trailed off, knowing you would know what he meant.

“I do, Harry,” you pulled him closer to you, your knees touching because of your close proximity, “I want that with you. I just wouldn’t really know where to start.”

He let go of your hand in favor of cupping your jaw, brushing his thumb against your soft skin, “Would you like me to teach you?”

You nodded, feeling a bit too shy to speak now. Harry smiled reassuringly, gently resting his other hand on your thigh.

“Let me know what you feel comfortable with, okay?”

“Okay,” you managed to get out.

That was all he needed before his lips were on yours.

They were just as soft as you imagined: plush, pink, and experienced as they moved against your own. You had kissed someone before, so this was at least familiar territory. But soon, he pulled you into his lap, his long curls tickling your skin as he deepened the kiss. You couldn’t help but gasp softly in surprise as his hands moved from cupping your cheek to wrapping around your waist. You felt almost dizzy, and it was just a kiss.

Harry pulled away then, looking deep into your eyes, “Still okay?”

You nodded, but he shook his head, “Need you to tell me. I want to make sure I have your full permission for everything we do.”

Your heart swelled. You doubted you’d find any other man who would treat you like this.

“I’m okay, Harry. Still a little nervous.”

He smiled, “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you. May I take this off?”

You hadn’t even noticed he was tugging on your shirt, but his question brought it to your attention.

Remembering his request, you said, “Yes, H.”

You lifted your arms above your head as he undressed you. You couldn’t help but feel a bit shy at your exposed position, moving your arms to cover yourself.

“Fucking beautiful,” Harry cooed, gently unwrapping your arms from your torso, “don’t need to hide from me, baby, you’re so damned pretty.”

Heat rose to your cheeks again as you mumbled a bashful “thank you.”

“Here, I’ll take mine off too.”

You gawked as Harry stripped his shirt off, revealing his toned and tattooed torso.

“Glad you’re enjoying the show,” he quipped as he stood from the couch, “but I’m not doing any more until we get to the bedroom. Not taking your virginity on my couch.”

You broke eye contact, slightly embarrassed as you stood up as well, “I didn’t mean to stare, H.”

He gently gripped your hips and leaned forward, lips brushing your ear, “I want you to look, darling.”

As quickly as he stepped into your space, he left it, walking the short distance to his bedroom and gesturing for you to follow. You did, still flustered as you walked past him into the familiar space. Harry closed the door behind you, despite the two of you being alone, and sat on the bed, patting his lap.

“Come here, baby.”

You quickly obeyed, sitting on his lap.

He cupped your face in his hands again, “If at any point you feel uncomfortable, please tell me. It’s okay if we don’t go the whole way today, just want you to feel safe.”

“I’ll tell you, I promise. But I don’t think anything you’ll do will make me feel uncomfortable,” you answered honestly, making him smile.

He leaned in and kissed you again, reintroducing the familiar motions. You went along happily, already addicted to his kisses. But soon, he was gently laying you back until your back was against the mattress. Harry’s hands traveled down your body, stopping at your bra.

“May I?”

“Of course, H.”

He unhooked your bra, throwing it onto the ground carelessly as he took in your fully topless torso. His large hands cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing against your nipples. You jumped from his touch, making him chuckle.

“Sensitive, aren’t you?” he remarked before replacing his thumbs with his lips, licking and sucking at your pert nipples.

You gasped, grabbing at his luscious curls, “Oh, Harry.”

You felt him smile against you as he continued his ministrations. You barely noticed his hands traveling down until they tugged at the zipper of your jeans. He looked up at you, silently asking permission.

You nodded, lifting your hips, “Please, H, take them off.”

Harry obliged, undoing the zipper and button of your jeans and tugging them down your legs until you were left in just your panties. He lifted his head and drank you in, tugging down the cotton fabric until you were bare before him. Just like before, you felt a bit shy from the attention, but Harry wasn’t letting you cover up.

“Shit, baby, you’re even more beautiful than I thought you’d be.”

You had lost count of the amount of times you blushed, “Y-you thought about this?”

“So many times,” he confessed, “wanted to be the first one who made you feel good.”

“I’ve wanted that too. For so long. But you can’t do that if you still have your pants on,” you teased.

He chuckled, “I suppose you’re right. Want to help me?”

You nodded eagerly, tugging the zipper down on his ridiculously tight jeans and helping to shove them down his thick thighs. Now all that was separating you was his boxers. There was a sizeable tent in the fabric, and Harry laughed softly again when he caught you staring.

“Want me to take those off, too?”

You nodded, not bothering with words since he knew how needy you were. He guided your hand to the waistband of his underwear, encouraging you to drag them down. And you did so happily.

Holy shit, he was big.

Of course, this was the first time you had seen a cock, so you supposed you didn’t have much to go off of. But it looked big.

Harry could see the nerves return to your expression, “Don’t worry, lovely. It won’t hurt. I’ll open you up a bit first. Lay back down.”

You listened, laying your head back on the plush pillows as Harry leaned forward, hovering above you. His hands gently ran along your thighs. You knew he was doing it to make sure that you were comfortable, but quite honestly, you were beginning to get a little impatient.

“Want it, H. Need your fingers.”

He raised his eyebrows, “Not so shy anymore, hm? Am I making you wait too long?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer his question, running his fingers through your folds to collect your wetness on his fingers. The response you would’ve had came out as a choked moan as you watched him slip his fingers into his mouth.

“Taste so fucking good,” Harry groaned, “definitely eating this perfect pussy next time.”

Heat rose to your cheeks once more at the implication that there would be a next time. But you didn’t have much of a chance to think about it as he used those fingers to spread your pussy open.

“So pretty,” he murmured almost to himself, dragging his fingers through your wet folds.

“Please, Harry,” you whined, tired of being teased.

He smiled at you, “Don’t worry, baby. Said I’d take care of you.”

And his first finger entered you, stretching your entrance in a way it hadn’t been before. Sure, you’d used your own fingers and a toy or two. But it was so different in the best way when someone else did it.

“Shit,” you gasped as he stretched you open, smirking at how tight you were against just one of his fingers.

“Relax for me, baby. Gonna need at least one more finger, if not two to make sure you’re nice and ready for me.”

You willed yourself to relax, allowing yourself to sink into the pillows as he pressed inside of you. He pulled out completely before re-entering with two fingers, making you moan out in pleasure.

“Oh fuck! Harry!”

“That’s it, beautiful. Look so good taking my fingers like this,” he praised, curling his fingers inside of you, “bet you’ll look even prettier with my cock.”

“Want it, Harry, please,” you begged.

“Not yet, pretty. Need to make sure you’re nice and stretched open for me.”

He took his sweet time, teasing you with the slow drag of his fingers. The sounds coming from your pussy were obscene, wetness squelching around his fingers as he fucked you. You could feel the coil in your belly and your pussy clenched around him.

“Gonna cum for me, baby? Can feel you squeezing me.”

You nodded, already too far gone to speak. Harry smirked, then leaned in to suck your clit.

You saw stars, vision becoming slightly fuzzy as you experienced the best orgasm of your life. He fucked you through it, fingers not stopping as you soaked them.

“That’s it, pretty. So good for me,” he praised.

When you came down from your high, Harry smirked at you, “Think you're ready for this cock, baby?”

“Please, Harry! Need to feel you in me, please,” you begged, not particularly caring if you sounded desperate.

He rolled a condom over his cock and lined himself up with your entrance.

Harry’s expression turned serious again, “Promise you’ll tell me if it hurts at all.”

You nodded, “I will, H, promise.”

Satisfied with your answer, he leaned in and kissed you softly as his tip breached your entrance. You gasped softly: if you thought his fingers stretched you out, it was nothing compared to the girth of his cock. Harry murmured soft encouragements into your skin as he slowly entered you, filling your pussy for the first time. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to, the only sounds escaping your lips were broken whimpers. Soon, he was fully sheathed inside of you, making you the fullest you had ever been in your life.

“Harry,” you whined.

He smiled at you, lovingly brushing your hair from your face, “Feel okay, baby?”

You nodded, “So full. Move, please?”

Of course, he couldn’t say no if you asked so politely. So slowly, he rolled his hips, testing the waters. The sweet moan that spilled from your mouth was enough confirmation that you were ready. He pulled out almost entirely before slamming back in, setting a slow yet still somehow relentless pace as he fucked you. Choked gasps and whines fell from your lips with abandon as Harry pounded you. It was absolute bliss. He looked like an angel, long hair framing his perfect face as his brow was furrowed in concentration, determined to make you feel good.

“So good, Harry,” you managed to gasp out to assuage his worries.

He smiled then, lips brushing your temple as he continued his slow, yet powerful thrusts, “Yeah? You like it?”

“Love it,” you moaned as he brushed a spot inside of you, “Right there, H.”

“Here?” he asked cheekily as he hit that spot again, turning you into a pile of mush.

Harry sped up a bit, sensing that you could take more. You moaned desperately as he continued to hit that perfect spot inside of you with every thrust. His cock filled you deliciously, and quite honestly, you didn’t know how you went without it until now.

“Fuck, feel like I’m gonna cum soon, your pussy is just too perfect. Are you close, pretty?”

You nodded, feeling the coil in your belly once more, “So close, Harry! Please!”

“Need you to cum so I can. C’mon baby, give it to me,” he commanded.

One of his thumbs moved between your bodies, skillfully rubbing your clit. You writhed around his as your orgasm slammed into you, completely taking your breath away. Somehow, it was even better than the first one, your vision blurring even more as you clenched around him. You vaguely heard yourself whimpering his name brokenly as he spilled into the condom, groaning as he found his release. You were brought back to reality from the feeling of his lips brushing against yours, and you responded to his kiss as best you could.

He smiled, brushing his thumbs against your cheeks, “Was that good for you, baby?”

“Absolutely perfect, Harry. Thank you,” you answered shyly, running your fingers through his curls.

You may not be going to college together anymore in a few weeks, but you knew this wasn’t the last time you’d see him. Not when he treated you better than any other man possibly could.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles story #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut imagine #harry styles fandom #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles request

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