#gif creds to @.allmylouv

[songbirdstyles]

sweet lady

summary: harry only needs one thing to calm his nerves before a show.

warnings: smut (18+), female receiving oral, slight size kink, harry being a little shit

word count: 1.8k (my little shortie)

“C’mere, baby, please -”

“Harry, you go on in twenty minutes -

“Please, jus’ quick, c’mon -”

You can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes, feeling Harry’s clammy, twitching hands grasping your own, tugging you closer to where he wants you - pressed tight against his body, chest to chest and legs dangerously close to getting tangled with each other. He’s practically radiating heat, already a thin sheen of sweat coating his exposed skin through the sheer shirt barely covering his abdomen and chest, and when you bury your nose into his pecs you can smell the scent of his cologne and musk and you want to inhale it in until you’re suffocated with it, but that falls lower on the totem pole of priorities at the moment.

Your priority - doting girlfriend and supporter before anything else - is (or was) to calm his nerves before the show, giving him hugs and kisses until he’s released every anxiety possible before bounding onto stage for all Pittsburgh fans to see.

His priority, a horny beast before all, is to bury his head between your thighs.

You suppose you’re not opposed to either.

“You’re crazy,” you tell him, words muffled against his chest, and you can practically hear the smirk spread across his face - a smirk because he knows you’re going to give in, if not now then in a couple minutes, because it’s never been your forte to deny him, or yourself, of eating you out until you were screaming or crying or both. “Insane. Shouldn’t you want me to give you head before the show?”

“Maybe,” Harry says, then, and when you pull your head back to look up at him his eyes have flitted towards the clock mounted on the wall of his dressing room - there’s now less than 19 minutes left before he has to be on stage, and instead of going to regroup with the band, he’s wrapping a large hand around your slender wrist and pulling you towards the chair parked at the vanity in the corner of his room. A nudge of his knee knocking into your thigh and you’re collapsing onto the seat, hand already reaching for the edge of the vanity, littered with his and your makeup, to grasp onto as Harry drops to his knees in front of you, surely staining the front of his thousand-dollar pants with the dirt from the floor but it isn’t like he, or anyone else, truly cares too much.

“Gonna be quick,” Harry murmurs, leaning down to press a sloppy kiss to your kneecap, hands smoothing up the sides of your thighs to push your short skirt further up your legs until you’re lifting your hips to let him push the fabric up to your ass. He sounds like he’s more trying to convince himself rather than you, the both of you knowing more than well that your lover could spend hours between your thighs without getting the tiniest bit bored, and trying to limit his activities down will certainly be an exercise in restraint for him. “Jus’ need t’taste you, baby. Y’look too fuckin’ good for me to not want t’try some, hmm?”

You can’t bring yourself to respond as Harry rests his cheek against your knee, reaching towards the apex of your thighs with one crooked finger to delve between the fabric of your panties and your slick folds, bend of his finger running up and down through the center of your folds, reaching your clit and barely brushing over the surface of the sensitive nub before he’s pushing his finger back down with a devious smile and another kiss to the side of your leg.

“You can’t possibly think you have enough time to tease me,” you breathe out as Harry fully pulls your panties away from your pussy, now nearly sopping with liquid as he tugs you forward, displaying your wetness further for him like a meal on display, and you’re certain that’s what he considers it - no different than a gourmet meal, waiting on a platter for him. “Only got fifteen -”

Your words are cut short when Harry leans forward, smug face disappearing beneath where the pleated fabric of your skirt falls over your thighs, and you feel rather than see his lips attach themselves to your already pulsing clit, chocolate brown curls rustling softly as he moves his head as he sucks.

A sharp gasp rips its way through your body, sinking down in your seat as your muscles tense, nails digging into the white wood of the vanity beneath your grasp as Harry’s flexed tongue flits over your clit while his lips close around it. Your toes curl and your eyes roll back and you swear you could cum on the spot, shaky breath reverberating in the air around you as Harry’s hand pushes your legs further apart from each other, grasping the fleshy side of your thigh so firmly you’re sure you’ll find bruises in the shape of his fingerprints come tomorrow morning.

“Oh - God, fuck, Harry!” It’s all you can do not to shout the profanities, back arching against the seat as you drop your hand down to dig through your boyfriend’s hair, grabbing a handful of chocolate brown curls within your grasp and tugging, fingernails digging crescent shaped indents into his soft scalp, and he groans against your clit at the sensation before releasing your clit with a soft ‘pop’ and a gentle inhale for air.

“Holy shit,” Harry exhales, breath cool and soft against your warm folds and a whimper tears from your throat as he drops his other hand down to grab your calf, hoisting it over his shoulder and massaging gentle circles just above your ankle. “Taste so fuckin’ good - fuckin’ drippin’ for me, baby, can’t fuckin’ handle it.”

“Please, Har, please -”

“Please what, baby?”

“Keep going, don’t stop -”

“Never gonna stop -” And he’s true to his word, leaning his head back in once he’s taken in enough air to sustain him, licking a thick stripe up the length of your folds, and your thigh is pressed close enough to side of his throat to feel how he swallows your wetness he’d just lapped up - he hums once the liquid has cruised down his throat, then leans his head back for just a moment before bringing it back forward, spitting a glob of saliva onto your cunt, and your hips jerk forward towards his waiting mouth.

“Fuck - fuck -”

His head bobs up and down, tongue plunging through your folds, and your leg spasms where it’s resting, thrown against the flexing muscles of his back as he works, tightening against him and forcing his body impossibly closer to where you need him - your body quivers, cunt pulsing around his mouth and dripping with every movement of his tongue, skin cropping up in goosebumps as he kneads the skin of your thigh with his free palm.

“Could fuckin’ see you,” grunts Harry, voice barely audible from how muffled it is against your sopping cunt, and you squeeze your eyes shut, pursing your lips together to try and not scream with pleasure as he devours you. “Could see you durin’ sound check - clenchin’ your little thighs together - could tell you were fuckin’ soaked for me.”

Harry’s practically making out with your pussy, sliding his tongue up and down through your folds before he pauses, nipping at the insides of your thighs as he breathes, “All f’me, right, baby?” “God, yes,” you choke out, devastatingly loud in the sudden silence of his dressing room when the sound of his mouth on your wet cunt isn’t humiliatingly loud any longer. “All for you, Harry, always for you -”

“Thinkin’ about me fuckin’ you, right?” “Only you -”

“Want me t’fuck you now, hmm? Don’t you? Want me to pull out my cock - fuck you ‘till you’re screamin’, hmm?”

Your eyes roll back into your head as Harry leans in, flexing his tongue as he flicks it against your clit, the minimal contact making your hips thrust up and your chest heave violently with every breath you try, and fail, to take in. “Please, Harry - want you so bad -”

A lap up your folds - his nails digging into your thighs - your hand in his hair, pulling desperately until he’s groaning against your cunt -

And then it’s gone.

Harry pulls away with a smack of his lips, chin and upper lip moist with your slickness, and your entire body pulses as you watch him, your face red and your pussy pulsing pathetically at the sudden lack of stimulation you’d gotten so used to. “What -?”

Your boyfriend pushes himself to stand and, with every further centimeter he puts between you, your brows furrow together just a bit tighter, hand and wrist numb from how hard you’d been gripping the edge of the vanity as he practically fucking consumed you.

“I have to go out, baby,” he says, then, voice hoarse and reeking of smugness that causes the pit building in your stomach to unravel with every passing moment that your need goes unattended. He smooths his hand down his sheer shirt - runs a hand through the curly locks you’d lovingly messed up in your haze of pleasure - makes a feeble attempt to brush the dirt off the knees of his silk pants. “Gonna watch me, hmm?”

You watch him, mouth agape, breath heaving and desperate as you try to make sense of his words - when he looks down at you, his eyes trail down your body, skirt tugged above your waist, exposing your slick cunt to him - the cunt he had properly destroyed and not done his diligence to mend before leaving. You can tell now what his final goal was - destroying you, leaving you pliable and desperate for him by the time he comes back after the show, until you’re ready to jump his bones the second the encore is finished.

He turns to the door, and you push yourself to sit up further in the vanity chair. “Wait -”

“Yeah, baby?”

You roll your eyes, his cheeky smirk something you wish you could slap off - or ride - you’re unsure which you prefer - but you resort to a soft groan. “Fuck you.”

Harry pushes out his bottom lip, taking a step towards you in his venture to the door of his dressing room until he’s standing directly in front of you, leaving you entirely too close to the tented bulge in his pants. For a second you suspect he might take pity on you and bury his fingers into your cunt in the final minutes he has before he has to be on stage, especially as he reaches his hand down, down, down, past your face and your tits to your pussy -

He hooks his finger in the soaked fabric of your panties, tugging them to cover your cunt, effectively destroying any hope you’d had of him having mercy on you. He brings his finger up to his mouth, running a perfectly pink tongue over the moisture dripping down his digit, and he smiles after he swallows as though he’s enjoyed an extraordinary feast in your slick.

“I’ll do that later, my love,” he says, then, and he’s gone before you can think of any snarky retort to throw back at him.

#gif creds to @.allmylouv #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #i cant fucking beliueve i just wrote a fic #like a short fic but nevertheless #i havent written in so long i didnt edit this at all #hopefully ill start writing longer shit no #w #who knows