#harry styles best hair styles

[hsdiaries]

glitter on the floor;

6.5K words

best friend!harry x best friend fmc, phh, running out of time, love confession, little itty bitty dom, little itty bitty sub, oral fmc recieving, p in v, praising, teasing.

"Can you believe after today, there is just five months until graduation, Goldie? Five months left before we never have to fight for parking in Jefferson or cross our fingers we didn't get Ferguson as our thesis mentor?" Harry chuckled over the phone, a smile instantly playing on my pink lips. That's what it did. His laugh. Turned on all the stars with his crescent moon smile.

"You mean five months until you leave me to fend for myself? Glad you're so enthusiastic about it, H." I pout, finishing up the charcuterie spread I had been working on for the past couple hours.

"D, you know I'm dreading that above anything else. Who else is going to judge people with me over an afternoon coffee? No one understands afternoon coffees like you."

I pushed off the kitchen counter, turning to walk over to the dining room table, sitting down, "I guess."

Everyday that felt like a personal countdown to adventure for Harry felt like a countdown to loneliness for me. It wasn't that I didn't have friends, I had plenty; taking in the giant city rental we would be using to countdown the new year only proved it. Still, they weren't Harry. They weren't my best friend. They weren't my everyday life line.

They weren't the man I had been deeply, painfully in love with for four years now.

"Look, tonight, we will get beyond drunk. We will eat our grapes under the table, we will jump in the giant indoor pool at midnight and wash away the stress of senior year. I need you to forget that I'm going anywhere come the new year. Let's just have the best time, okay?" He said over the phone, I inhaled, holding my breath, slowly letting out as Leigh and Olive walked in the door, waving around bags of alcohol.

"Okay, I gotta go, thing one and thing two just got here, gotta finish setting up." I said and he laughed.

"Five bucks on Leigh knocking out before midnight." He said at the same time I whispered it to him, each of us cracking up.

"Is that dimples? Tell him to leave you alone, it's girl time before he gets here and you ignore us the rest of the night." Olive said, my eyes rolling.

"Bye Harry, the girls are testy." I giggled a bit before he said bye again, and we hung up. I looked down at my phone, biting my lip as Leigh walked over, placing bottles of vodka on the table.

"Tell him." She said, her weight falling to her left hip. I furrowed my eyebrows as I glanced up at her, my eyes drifting to Olive then back to Leigh.

"Tell him what exactly?" I said, my chest tight as I filled with confusion.

"That you're in love with him and always have been and you want seven kids with him and a big house wi—..."

"—Woah! I do not love him!" I cut off Olive who slammed the fridge door shut, giving me a face of unamusement.

"Goldie, baby....everyone knows. I mean everyone. Even the north wing cleaning lady our freshman year knew," Olive said, walking over, standing behind me and wrapping her arms around my neck, "He's leaving, D. For three years...as of now. What if he stays? What if he me—.."

"— stop, stop I get it. Okay. I get it. You think I don't think about it? But what if I tell him and he doesn't feel the same. Then we spend the last five months together with him being awkward as fuck. No thank you." I said, gently pushing Olive off of me and getting up. I walked over to the charcuterie spread, picking up leftover cheese and meat packages, moving to throw them away.

"Can you all handle the decorations? Imma go rest a bit before we have to get ready." I smiled small, both of them nodding as I moved out of the kitchen and into the giant living room to the master suite I knew I would even be sharing with Harry tonight.

I closed the door and locked it, moving to the bed and letting myself fall on it face first, screaming into the mattress hoping it was muffled enough no one would bother me.

Harry's POV

"You're bringing Taylor? Harry, you can't be serious. You realize you are going to shatter D into a million pieces right?" Zayn said, as I held up two different shirts in front of me.

"What are you even talking about? Goldie, if anything will make her feel welcomed, join us on a drunken night." I turned over my shoulder at him, raising both my eyebrows.

"You're so daft, Styles. Honestly. We all know Goldie loves you. And you love her, you damn idiot. Did you not hear her disappointment on the phone? Tonight for her is about you two, and you're bringing a girl?" Zayn said, suddenly my throat was tightening. I cleared it, turning away from him and furrowing my eyebrows as I looked in the mirror.

"She doesn't love me like that, Zayn. It's not like that with her. Even if it was, I'm not risking it," I closed my eyes, shaking my head that I was even letting him get to me.

"You... and her actually, are both idiots. You're both in love with each other and are going to leave here filled with stupid regret and I'm over trying to get you to see it," He said, shrugging and walking out of my room. I rolled my lip into my mouth, biting it before throwing my shirts on the bed.

"Fucks sake," I called out, throwing my head back. When my head rolled back straight, my eyes landed on the photo on my desk. Goldie and I at her sorority formal last year before she dropped. I swallowed, wondering if maybe Zayn was right.

—

I entered the sorority house watching as other couples met, taking photos and admiring each other's outfits. I rolled my eyes thankful Blondie was over this life. It wasn't her, didn't suit her. She was too kind. Too caring to ever fit in with the people she called her supposed sisters.

"So you do own a suit?" I heard a voice say from above me, my eyes moving to the stairs as Blondie made her way down them. I felt my jaw drop slightly, pressing my lips together as I swallowed. Sitting on her body was a sparkly black dress, one long sleeve, one bare shoulder. Her long blonde hair draped down her body. She was beautiful, breathtaking really. My best friend, the only girl that could get me in a stupid suit at a stupid sorority formal.

The fact Goldie was her name fit her better than I think her parents ever imagined. She was golden.

Making the rest of her way over to me, I grabbed her hand, spinning her around in a small circle. She giggled as I pulled her towards me, "You, are the prettiest girl ever to be in Sigma Kappa, shame they are losing their only true asset." I whispered as the back of her hand hit my chest.

"H, shut. No one knows yet and I would like to enjoy this last formal as my money went towards it." She glared at me a bit and all I could do was poke her nose as her demeanor softened.

"Okay, I'm sorry. Let's enjoy the night, at least the food is good." I shrugged, pulling out my phone and turning on the camera, "Alright, let's be like everyone else and show off how cute we are." I snapped photos of us, being as silly as possible before we started loading into giant charter buses taking us to the unknown location.

Once we arrived, we ate and drank with everyone else; keeping up appearances and interacting with the few girls that were actually nice to my Goldie. By the time the dancing started, I was in my own world with her, nothing else really mattered other than making sure my best friend was having the time of her life.

At one point, the drinks were starting to create an overall haze on the night. Goldie's body felt heavy against mine, her hips rolling so that her ass pushed against me, my prick fighting the blood flow she was beckoning with her movements. Her scent seemed to be the only thing my sense could pick up, cherry vanilla dreams as my nose found itself trailing her neck.

Her breath was rigid as my hands explored her waistline, fingers digging into the fleshy feel of her hips through her dress. The way her hips rolled, placed my dick perfectly between her ass, hard as ever and I couldn't find it in my drunken haze to care. She was my best friend, but she was also insanely perfect. Sexy beyond what my imagination could have ever hoped for. I wasn't blind and I wasn't an idiot. I also suddenly was ignoring any bit of logic that normally stopped me from crossing a line with her. My lips grazed her skin softly, her hips slowing slightly in their movement as I did. My lips puckered softly against her skin as the music began to slow, pulling us both out of the haze. My eyes skimmed the room, as couples began turning to face each other, wrapping up in each other as they moved to the slow music.

Goldie pulled away, slowly turning to face me, her face almost unsure as to what her next move should be. I swallowed, my hand reaching for her waist, pulling her against me, my hard cock pressing against her though making my cheeks redden in embarrassment. Her giggle made a chuckle escape my own, her hands relaxing around my neck.

"You seem to have invited a third member to this dance, H." She teased, her chocolate brown eyes searching my green.

"I think he was called over by you D, you seemed to be drawing him out in your direction," I raised an eyebrow with a tilt of my head and she shrugged innocently.

"No idea what you could possibly be referring to."

We moved to the soft flow of the music, silence surrounding us as her forehead pressing into my chin, her soft breath hitting against my neck. My fingers traced a soft up and down pattern along her back, playing with the ends of her hair whenever I came in contact with them. Her fingers massed the nape of my neck gently, tugging softly at the curls that rested there.

I could have stayed there, in her cherry vanilla heaven, layered in golden dust of magic; but the music picked up. Everyone cheered as they broke out into dance, jumping to the EDM music that slowly picked up until the beat dropped. She pulled away from me, her eyes searching mine again before looking down and over her shoulder.

"I'm going to go use the bathroom, grab me some water?" She said and I nodded, watching a look of confusion flash quickly across her before she nodded, turning and walking away. I watched her walk away, I watched her and my feet had sudden aches to follow her. To grab her and tell her I knew what she felt right then and there. That I had felt that confusion everyday since freshman year. To tell her I also felt confused on what lines I could and wanted to blur with her.

But I didn't. I turned to the bar to grab us each a water.

Blondie's POV

I looked myself over in the mirror, fisting and unfisting my hands to fight the sweaty palms that kept happening. All afternoon into the early evening my mind had been racing with Olive and Leigh's statements all circling into my current decision.

I was going to tell Harry how I felt. I was going to finally hand him my heart on a damn gold platter for his taking.

If he even wanted it.

I sighed, pulling up my black strapless dress, small pieces of silver sequins drawing eyes to my supple chest, a beautiful jeweled necklace sitting around my neck. I looked nice, I knew I did, and I couldn't wait for Harry's eyes to take me in, because they always told me how beautiful I looked. Even if the words never left his mouth.

Turning to exit the room, I opened the door to chatter and music coming from down the hall, people slowly starting to fill up the giant house. I took a deep breath, plastering a smile on my face, hiding the nerves that were slowly eating away at me. My eyes scanned the room until I found Leigh and Olive, my feet caring me quickly in their direction. They both looked at me wide-eyed, Olive clapping at my arrival, taking my hand and spinning me.

"Very well done, very well done," she said, making me roll my eyes as I took in my best friends dressed in glitter and sequins to the tens.

"And look at you both! I'm blinded!" I exclaimed as Leigh handed me a shot.

"All I'm saying is, if we don't get laid tonight, I've lost hope in all men," we all laughed, Olive picking up a shot which we all quickly cheersed and threw down our throats.

Vodka, yuck.

I scrunched up my nose, shaking my face as I looked over the room. Still no Harry, and I would lie if I said it wasn't driving me insane. I brought my attention back to Leigh and Olive as they carried on with their usual back and forth. I tried to pay attention, I really did, but half of what they said escaped me as quickly as the words left their lips.

Eventually we moved our way into the party, greeting, mingling and dancing whenever a good song on the playlist came on. I was three shots in when the door finally opened, Zayn and Niall walking in and my heart flew up in my throat knowing Harry would soon follow behind. My lips parted, my mouth drying from the breath he took away from me. He was wearing a tweed jacket black pants , with a white low cut tank tucked in underneath. The cross pendant I gave him for his first birthday we spent together sitting perfectly on his hair peppered chest.

I couldn't seem to catch my breath, but it was no longer at the mere sight of him. It was at the way I watched his hand wrap around the slim waist of a tall blonde. It was the way she smirked at him, eyes traveling down as she placed her slim fingers on the cross pendant that I felt belonged to me.

"Baby!" I was snapped out of the slow motion vortex I entered as Leigh squealed, running over and clinging on to Zayn, kissing as Niall pretended to gag next to them. He spotted Olive, blushing almost instantly, their greeting much more quiet as he kissed her cheek, holding her gently.

I swallowed, looking around desperately for a way to avoid what I knew was coming next, but Harry's arms wrapping around my waist and picking me up in an embrace ruined any plan of running.

"Blondie Michaels, that is way too much cleavage for a lady," he said, placing me down and kissing my forehead. I smiled, licking my lips and shrugging.

"Call me the town whore, I'll embrace it," I shrugged, my eyes flicking quickly to the woman behind him then back to his perfect lilypad eyes.

"Never that, you look beautiful, D. I um, I wanna introduce you to someone," he turned to the blonde, calling her over as I swallowed, "Goldie, this is Taylor, Taylor this is my best friend Goldie, or D for short."

I held out my hand, which was met with clear distaste and weak hold, "Pleasure." She spoke, pressing her lips into a tight forced smile.

My hand fell back down to my side, my entire night shifting into a direction I hadn't spent the past few hours mapping out in my head. I needed another drink, or three. My eyes quickly moved to find Leigh's already on mind, and without further explanation she was moving over to me and linking our arms.

"If you'll excuse me, Miss Michaels owes me another shot," we smiled, pulling away from the situation and I was thankful when she directed me towards my bedroom instead of the bar. Footsteps followed, Zayn soon joining my other side and wrapping his arm around both of us.

"I told him not to bring her," Zayn said as we entered the room, my lip caught between the tight grip of my teeth.

"Is he fucking dumb? Or on something. He has to be on something," Leigh said towards Zayn as I paced back and forth in front of the vanity.

"No, just a bloody idiot. But to be fair, they both are," Zayn said, I stopped walking instantly, my head snapping in his direction.

"I'm not an idiot, Zayn. I would never bring a date...not on an night like tonight." I said sternly, my breath making chest inflate, unsure how to breathe it out properly without crying. I felt the warmth of my eyes, tears slowly spilling as I reached up to wipe them away.

"Hey, hey, D, I'm sorry...I know you ain't...I'm just saying, you bo—.."

"— I was going to tell him tonight." I breathed out quietly, a soft sob coming from me. I inhaled sharply through my nose, tossing my head back to try and stop the path my tears wanted to fall on.

"You what?" Leigh exclaimed, quickly in front of me, gripping my arms, "Babe, look at me."

I swallowed my cry, looking down at Leigh's eyes and shrugging, "Obviously this is deeply one sided and for the best. I feel less of an idiot now than I would have as I handed him over my heart and he let it drop." I moved from her grip, clearing my throat, "Let's go. We only have a couple hours until the New Year, I'm not wasting it on tears."

I pushed past them, hearing their calls for my name, but all I saw was red. Red anger, red hurt, red disappointment. I was a menace the rest of the night, drinking more than I planned, avoiding Harry at all costs. Our interactions were short, yet his eyes seemed to linger on me the more I ignored him. They were burning my skin with their gaze and I thrived in it. I knew it was driving it insane and I was happy that it was.

He glared softly at me everytime I ignored Taylor, acting like she was invisible. Serving shots got everyone but forgetting hers. Asking her to take group photos but always forgetting to switch so she could be included. I was becoming the person I hated being around. I was becoming a replica of my ex sorority sister as they froze me out of the chapter.

But I was hurting, my heart slowly falling and shattering into pieces along the floor of this part; it was stepped on and demolished further as time went by.

"D," I heard his voice behind me as I made myself another vodka cran.

"Hmm?" I barely muttered out, taking a long sip of my drink, turning in his direction. We weren't alone for long, Taylor coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

His brows furrowed as his eyes searched mine, he was angry, I could tell by the way his lips pursed, "Nothing."

"Great," I pressed my lips into a smile, brushing past them, my shoulder hitting against Taylor as I did. I downed my drink, searching the room for a distraction. Any distraction. Leigh was grinding on Zayn, his lips preoccupied with her neck, Niall and Olive finally managing to figure out they liked each other enough to sit on the back couch and make out. My eyes scanned the room landing on Louis.

My ex hook up Louis that Harry hated more than anything in the world.

My feet were dragging me in his direction before common sense could hit, before I could think of a reason why I should stop.

"Hey fucker," I smirked, throwing my hair over my left shoulder, his eyes meeting mine for a time that couldn't even be measured in comparison to how they lingered on my chest.

"Michaels, ain't this a fuckin' surprise," he smirked, bringing his bourbon to his lips.

"I'm full of them sometimes," I winked, feeling like an utter idiot as I went through the motions of what I was doing.

"I see you let the puppy if it's leash for the night. Heard Taylor's been wanting to sink her claws in for a while, can't believe she managed to get him away from you," he smirked, licking his lips, waiting on my reaction.

"Realized I hate beggars," I said nonchalantly, a chuckle slipping his lips. He moved towards me, his hand slipping around to the small of my back, pulling me tight against him. He breathed into my neck, making me swallow.

"That's cause you like to do the begging, sweets, I 'avent forgotte'," he kissed my neck, flush traveling over my face. I peeked my eyes up at him, feeling a heat grow between us, my face inching up so our lips could meet when I heard a voice so angry it rattled me from the inside.

"Goldie. Outside, now!" I heard Harry's voice boom, quickly turning to face him.

"Excuse me?" I said, my face I could feel, red hot from anger of him ordering me around after what he did.

"Woof," Louis called out behind me, earning a deep inhale from me.

Harry let out a frustrated growl, grabbing my arm and pulling me with him toward the back, I quickly broke free from his grip, pushing past him and leading the way, refusing to be handled in the manner he thought was acceptable. I didn't realize how fast I was moving until he called out for me.

"Slow the fuck down! Goldie fucking stop!"

"What he fuck do you want from me, Harry? What do you want?" I said my voice raising, every bit of composure I had managed to fake slowly starting to leave me.

"I want to know what the fuck your problem is with me tonight? Why you're being such a fucking....such a —..."

"— what? Bitch? Say it, Harry. Say it like you have any balls left." I yelled back.

"Yes, D, you're being a fucking bitch to me and to Taylor. She hasn't done fucking done anything to you. For fucks sake, all I did was walk through the door ready to spend my last New Year's Eve with my best friend for a while...."

I scoffed, pulling at my hair, "Oh you're so,...and how did you plan on doing that? One hand around my waist and the other around hers? Dancing sandwiched between two blondes, oh I bet you like that idea. Now what happened at midnight in your little fantasy? Huh? You kissed her and then got some second hand high from me? Huh? God I feel like such a fucking idiot! A damn idiot!" I cried, slowly losing my mind, losing my ability to remember that I wasn't supposed to break in front of him. I couldn't fight the tears anymore.

"Hey, hey, hey...." His voice softened so quickly, his hands gripping on my arms to stabilize me, "D, baby D, come on, talk to me, please I'm going insane here."

I shook my head, trying to break from him stumbling back, his arms quickly wrapping around my waist holding me up, "Goldie, please."

"I...I was going to...I...." I cried, my gaze meeting his, through fuzzy tear filled eyes I swallowed, "You. You're the problem. You are your beautiful chestnut curls and lily pad eyes. God, I love you, you damn idiot. Why did you walk in here with her? Why her and not me? Wh—..." I was interrupted by his lips finding mine, finding a rhythm that was so messy, so needy for the next beat.

He broke away from me, pressing his forehead into mine, heavy breaths coming from both of us, "You are an idiot," he chuckled, "but so am I; because I've been in love with you since the moment I met you. And I'm sorry. I couldn't face what tonight meant. I couldn't face my true feelings, so I invited Taylor. I felt like if I directed what I wished tonight was to her instead of you, it would hurt less when I left. It would hurt less to never have called you mine."

I swallowed hard, shaking my head, "No, I've always been yours. And you've always been mine. I...I can't have you leave without knowing that," I took in his soft expression, the tears now forming in his eyes and my lips quickly met his again. Hands gripping at skin that felt so right. That seemed to mold into each other so perfectly.

"Come here," he whispered against my lips, hand linking with mine as he led me down to the boathouse near the lake. He moved quickly, pushing open the door and leading me inside. I watched as he jumped into the small sailing boat, holding his hand out to me as I climbed in behind him. He laid us down on the tarp that protected the boat, his fingers tangling into my hair.

Our kisses were now opened mouth, tongue finding each other in a tangled mess, skimming along the roofs of each. My hands slipped under his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders, he shimmed out of it as I untucked his tank, I wanted him in every way, and after four years I wasn't wasting any time.

"Help me, Harry. Please," I begged in a whiny voice. Louis was right, I loved begging, but only because I knew the result. He groaned, into my mouth, breaking the kiss to quickly undo his pants, my fingers pulling at the hem of his shirt and slipping it off of him. His fingers moved to my dress once his pants were off, reaching around to unzip me, fingers tugging my dress down, lips soon meeting my chest, hands pushing my tits together so that he could get his mouthful of both.

I moaned in pleasure, my head knocking back, mind lost in the idea that this was finally happening. Every dirty dream and fantasy I had of him was coming to life.

"I've dreamed about this, D. I've dreamed about what cherry vanilla tasted like, and god baby it tastes like a damn dream," he bit into my skin, making me arch into him, our skin creating a delicious friction.

"You haven't even had your mouthful yet, H," I whispered, my eyes locking with his as my hand squeezed between us, my fingers moving down my body, lifting my dress and moving into the band of my thong. I was greeted by a pool of arousal that started just for him, bringing it back up, gently pushing it into his mouth, "This is how it actually tastes."

My whispers were met with his eyes rolling back as his lips closed around my fingers, licking and sucking them clean. I pulled them out as his lips popped on release.

"Bloody fucking hell, Goldie Michaels, I'm about to fucking bust," he breathed, making a chuckle escape me. He smirked, pulling my bottom lip between his teeth, as his hands pushed my dress up, releasing my lip to push my dress over my head. His eyes traveled down my body, his pupils seemed to dilate as he went, a hunger behind them soon finding their way back to mine.

"You know what I think about often? I thought about it just today actually. Your formal, that dance floor," he inhaled sharply, his hand pressing down on my hip, dragging his fingers back into my ass, kneading at it, "The way your hips pushed into me, the way I could have slipped that dress up to your waist, fit right in," he swallowed, his voice a low grumble almost. His hand pulled back, smacking my ass before kneading the pain away.

My heart raced in my chest, remembering that night, the way it was ruined just as his lips pressed into my neck, just as he was doing now. He sucked on my skin in between each kiss, up to my jawline. I whined as he ran his nose softly along it, "I would have let you. Welcomed it."

I pushed my hips forward, pressing him slightly flat, lowering onto his bare, hard cock. I adjusted myself so I could press my cunt down along his shaft, grinding it up and down his length. He reached down, moving my thong to the side, letting my wet cunt fully meet him.

"Were you as ready for me as you are now? So sweet, and wet without me even doing much?" He whispered into my ear, his thumb pressing down on my clit, making my hips jolt forward, his other hand gripping at my hip, helping me continue my movements on him.

"Mmm, mhm. Harry, I think my cunt's always been ready for you. I think it was made for you," I licked my lips, glancing down at him, then to the mess I was making, "Look at how much it cries for you, begs you to fill me up. Fill me up Harry, please."

"I have other things I need to tend to first, Goldie," He smirked, flipping us over so I was on my back, his body shifting between my legs. He placed a hand on either side of my hips, fingers looping around the band of my underwear, yanking them off me and throwing them to the side. He placed my left leg on his shoulder, kissing a path down my calf, down to under my knee and back around to my inner thigh, letting it bend over his shoulder. His nose trailed a path up to my belly button and back down, ending his journey with a soft kiss on my clit. Chills crept over my stomach as he continued to tease me, hitting it softly with his nose, moving it from side to side along it.

I heard myself whine, my legs squirming as he moved to tighten his grip on my hips, keeping me in place. He was making me feel frustrated, more than I already was feeling, "Harry, please..."

"Please what, baby D, you never had a problem with words. Why now?" He said against my cunt, his warm breath making my thigh clench.

"I need your face between my legs, please." I begged, completely whiny, completely about to lose my mind.

"It's already between your legs, you have to be more specific. I'm an idiot, remember?" He cooed, his fingers digging further into my hips, his nose dragging a bit of arousal up my stomach.

"Tell me how good cherry vanilla tastes, H. Remind yourself how good it tastes," I moaned out, shoving his face back against my cunt. I could feel the smile on his lips as he began lapping at my wet center. His tongue pushing flat against my middle, curling in a manner that shouldn't be allowed by any human being. He sucked on my swollen clit, creating a fountain of curse words from me as he did.

"Fu-uck, Harry, god..." I moaned, my fingers tangling into his hair, pulling at the roots causing him to groan against me.

Harry's POV

I was in fucking heaven, I felt like i was literally in the act of physically fucking heaven. She tasted so sweet on my tongue, her juices covering my chin as they dripped down her cunt that desperately wanted me. I pulled back, licking my lips as I looked up at her, her face a lovely shade of red that I had never seen on her cheeks. I took my hand, slowly moving a finger inside of her, feeling her walls pulse against them, my prick hard at the idea of her cunt squeezing itself around it in the same manner. I curled my finger forward, my digits searching for her soft center, her soft pleasure point that I knew I found by her delicious mewls. She was so whiny and needy and I couldn't get enough.

Biting at her inner thighs as I slipped in another digit, curling them more and more as I pulled them in and out of her, "Imagine taking my cock with that cunt, you take my fingers so well, I can't imagine you wrapped around me, fuck, D."

I slipped another finger in, three fingers fucking her as she palmed at her own breast, twisting her nipples and adding to her own pleasure. I knew she wasn't shy, I knew how sexual my best friend could be, but it had never been for me.

"Harry...I am so close...please don–dont, fuck yes...," she cried out, her legs starting to tremble, my lips quickly adding suction to her clit, helping her get where she wanted quicker. Her hand hit the side of the boat, gripping at the tarp as she came, her juices spilling out for me, giving me my last meal of the year. I pulled my fingers out of her, licking at her opening, pushing my tongue in and lapping up everything she gave. Her legs lazily relaxed around me, I pushed up her body, kissing along the scars from past incidents that told her own story. That made her my Goldie.

"Open, baby D, lemme show you how good you taste," I said, pressing my fingers to her lower lip as she opened her mouth; my three fingers slipped in, pushing down on her tongue, a soft gag coming from her before, my lips kissing along her jaw, "Mmm, fucking good girl."

I dragged my fingers out of her mouth, down her neck, choking her softly, "Tell me what you want now, it's all about you tonight, only you."

"Fuck me," she gasped.

"Mmm, I don't know if you really want it..." I teased, my hand moving to my cock, slowly fucking my fist as I watched her squirm under my hold.

"Fuck your love into me, Harry Styles. Fuck me so good I can't stop confessing my love to you. Please. Please, for your good girl," she said, so sweetly and whiny it was so dirty. I positioned both her legs on my shoulders, lining myself up and slipping inside her, bottoming out, her nails digging into my bare back, dragging down as I held my position, not moving, not giving her anything other than the feeling of being completely filled by me. Her head knocked back, a gasp escaped her that never seemed to return.

She pulled my face down to hers as it tossed forward, whimpering against our kiss, her chest heavy with her breath as I slowly pulled out, pushing all the way in again, "God you take me so...fucking...good," I gasped with each thrust, she was squeezing me so well. I placed my hands on either side of her, using them as leverage to lift higher, her legs wrapping around me letting me know I was hitting her G spot. Knowing I wasn't missing it, not even once.

She broke the kiss, clinging onto me and kissing my neck, biting at my skin, moaning into it as I found my face, her walls fluttering around me. She was milking me for everything I was worthy and I didn't know how I hadn't seen her bright light sooner. How I didn't realize how my Goldie was just that, mine.

I pushed up and away from her, locking eyes with her pretty brown eyes, smiling as I took in her beauty, her sweetness, the sly smile appearing on her face. I slowed my strokes, carefully moving her legs off my shoulders, I wanted to be close to her, I wanted to press into her. I lowered my body, placing my arms on either side of her head.

"I love you, my Goldie girl. My baby D. You feel that, feel how much I love you?" I said with each thrust, my left arm moving down over her shoulder, down to her breast, cupping it, kneading it, twisting at her perfectly perked up nipple.

She moaned, nodding softly, her hands traveling over my body, "I do, H. God, i love you." She leaned forward, pulling my cross pendant into her mouth, wrapping it around her tongue, before releasing it, "She touched that. But it's mine, just like you, mine."

She moaned out as her hips swiveled up into me, our thrusts meeting each other blissfully. Her walls fluttered around me, letting me know how close she was.

"I am, all yours baby, fuck, all yours," I groaned, kissing her messily, my tongue rubbing along the roof of her mouth.

"Claim me, Harry. Fill me full of you. God I wanna feel you dripping out of me, H," she whined, my hips bucking quicker. I felt the tingle build in my lower spine, my legs beginning to lose their stability, a groan building in my chest.

"Yeah, full of me, D? Is that what you would think about? Me feeling you full?" I said, my eyes hard on hers, her head nodding quickly.

"Please, H, god I need it, please," she begged. She was so damn sexy when she begged, "Ha-Harry imma, oh go-od..."

I kissed her again, thrusting as I felt her walls tighten around me, her sweet arousal covering me completely, dripping down both of us, "Fuck baby, yes.." I moaned, bottoming out as I filled her up, shooting ropes of my mess inside of her.

She whined at the feeling, whimpering and taking hold of my ass, pushing me further in her. I chuckled, pressing a kiss into her forehead, "Are you trying to seal the deal baby? Trying to keep me around?"

"Mmm, daddy Styles has a ring to it," she giggled, shuddering softly. I chuckled, catching my breath and kissing her forehead again, then her nose.

"Come with me?" I whispered.

"I already did," she giggled and I laughed, pressing a kiss into her lips. I pulled out slowly, kissing my way down her body, licking at her nipples, down her stomach. I reached her cunt, lapping up the delicious mixture of her and I, cleaning along her thighs.

"No, Goldie," I kissed her cunt, moving back up to her mouth, kissing her, letting her taste us together, "Come with me to London. I can't be without you. Not anymore."

"H..." she started and I kissed her again, deeply, meaning every bit of it.

"Just think about it."

"Okay."

#harry styles #fanfic #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles ff #harry styles au #harry styles blurb #harry styles x original character #phh #best friend!harry #harry styles x you #harry styles smut #harry styles x oc #harry styles x reader #harry smut #prince hair harry #harry ff

[jfleamont]

The Marauders as Malcolm T. Liepke paintings:

Lily

James

Sirius

Remus

Peter

Sirius and Remus

James and Lily

#harry potter #marauders #jily #wolfstar #james potter #lily evans #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #jfleamont rambles #sorry about the quality... this was the best I could do :( #anyway I stumbled upon that first painting and fell in love with his style #sadly I couldn't find any long haired men in his portraits but the vibe for Sirius is very much there despite the haircut #I'll probably make a part 2 if I find more good ones #malcolm t liepke #malcolm liepke

[ificouldflyhome369]

Wetrry is something else

#harry styles #and his wet #long #hair #living it's best life in 🇧🇷

[hsonlyangelxo]

LHH and PHH - my only true loves

#harry styles #love of my life #long hair harry #prince hair harry #I love him with long(er) hair #how is he so pretty #the best eras #I miss it #I miss him

[haileybeehappy]

Couch Locked

Yet another Long Hair Harry Fanfic

Summary : You are pretty much in love with your best friends brother and your first time getting high you release some secrets.

Warnings : smut, smoking

Word Count : 4.5k

You had never gotten high before but your best friend was probably the biggest stoner you ever met. Well besides her brother Harry. You had never seen him not high. He was also like the most beautiful man you had ever seen. That has nothing to do with it but it just needed to be said. 

So, here you were on your best friend Gemma’s bed. About to smoke weed for the first time ever. You were perched at the end of the bed. She was pulling the smoke through to the pipe of a bong so you could clear it out. The both of you knew that had no chance pulling it all the way through. You reach for the glass and she passes it into your hands. 

“I’m so excited!” Gemma squeals through some light coughing. The warm glass sits in your hand as you psych yourself up. You empty the air out of your lungs and go to move your mouth to the top of the pipe. And Inhale. 

Twenty minutes later you had finally stopped coughing. You were just laying in her bed with your feet hanging off. The world was spinning and the TV sounds garbled. Gemma’s voice cuts through the static. 

“Are you hungry?” you very quickly move your head to look at her. 

“Fuck yes,” 

“I’ll make you some food,” she laughs. You slowly rise off the bed and move to follow her. The world instantly starts moving. Almost like you’re standing in the waves at the ocean. You can feel the floor moving out from under you. You instantly shoot to the wall to keep your balance and you make your way out of the bedroom. 

You hear a chuckle behind you. You look back behind you. Harry is standing against his door frame. His bare shoulder resting against the wood. Because this man was pretty much almost always shirtless. 

“Finally got high huh?” you nod and quickly look away. Hiding the blush that was rising on your cheeks. “Are you gonna make it down the stairs?” you hear him shift and then feel his hand on your arm. “Please let me help, I wouldn’t forgive myself if something bad happened to you. You can feel your heart melt. 

“Okay,” you whimper. 

“Thank you,” He grasps your arm and then slowly moves his hand down and across your back to rest on your waist. Your arm goes around him to do the same. 

“Thank you,” he then slowly helps you down the stairs. You make it to the couch in a record time of five minutes and Gemma has already started on the food. You have no idea what she is making but it smells AMAZING!

“Gemma I fucking love you,” she laughs.

“Why is that y/n?” Harry plops down on the couch next to you.

“You’re the best,” you groan. “I can’t wait to eat,”

“What about me?” Harry asks. “I’m not the best?” a smirk resting on his lips. 

“You’re pretty good but you’re not making me food,” his smirk drops. 

“Well then. If that’s what it takes,” He starts to get back up. You grab his wrist and pull him back to the couch. 

“No, don’t leave me. I don’t want you to go?” you whimper out. 

“Why is that Y/n?” You sigh. You have yet to let go of his hand. You then intertwined his fingers with yours. 

“I just want you here,” You squeeze his hand. 

“Okay I’ll stay,” he tightens his grip on your hand. He grabs the remote from the arm of the couch and clicks on the TV. “Whatcha wanna watch?” you just shrug your shoulder

“I can barely see. I couldn’t even name a show right now,” he chuckles. 

“Family guy it is,”

“How about no?” he chuckles. 

“Fine,” he continues scrolling through the options. “Disney?” you tighten your grip on his hand. 

“Oh my god yes,” you look over at him and smile. “Hannah Montana?” He cocks a lazy smile. 

“Of course my love,” 

“My love,” you mimic his accent. He bumps his arm on yours. 

“You're making fun of me?”

“Yes,” he just laughed.  “I mean you have that accent. So does Gemma but hers isn’t as sexy,” 

“Sexy huh?” a blush spreads across your face. 

“Oh definitely,” you nod. “I mean the hair,” You reach to his head and grab at the bun on top of his head. (LHH is superior so idc) “That fucking smile,” you move your hair to his face. “And fuck, your shoulders,” you almost let out a moan. 

“Here is your food,” Gemma hands you a plate of fried shrimp. “Freshly made,” she smiles and hands Harry a plate too. “For my snotty little brother,” she smiles. 

“Thanks Gem,” he smiles. She plops on the couch across from you. You are completely zoned in on the shrimp and don’t come out of your phase until you finish the last shrimp. You look up at Gemma and she has a wild smile on her face. 

“That took you a whole hour and a half to eat,” you look over at the clock but you can’t focus on the numbers so you look back at her. 

“It was good. Delicious actually,” You lean forward and go to place the plate on the coffee table, leaning forward you almost fall. Harry's hand comes around your waist and catches you. “I think I need to go to bed,” Gemma laughs, 

“I think so too babe,” she starts to get up off the couch to help you.

“I got her,” Harry declares and pops up off the couch and goes to help you. 

“No, no,” you whine and smack his hands off you. “I wanna do it myself,” you stand up and instantly start falling to the ground. Harry catches you yet again and holds you up. 

“Okay so I am gonna help you,” Harry whispers in your ear and sends shivers down your spine. You can’t find the words so you just nod. “Good girl,” he whispers even quieter so Gemma can’t hear. 

“Holy shit,” you whimper. Harry helps you up the stairs and damn. Even if you weren’t high your legs would still be wobbly. Like what the fuck Harry. Why would you say that? “I just wanna lay down.” you groan about halfway up the stairs. 

“I am getting you there honey,” 

“You’re going to slow,” you whine in response. 

“Well you are the one that’s going slow babe,” 

“Stop with the pet names. That’s not nice. Tease,” he chuckles. 

“It bothers you?” you nod. A bubble caught in your throat. “Why?” the two of you are at the top of the stairs now. “I can feel you trembling babe, and I don’t think it's the weed,” you shake your head. “No? I can’t hear you Y/n,” 

“It’s not from the weed,” 

“So good for me Y/n,” he has his hands wrapped around your waist. You are still frozen with your hands barely touching his chest. “Now let’s get you to bed,” in one quick move he hoists you up over his shoulder and to Gemma's room. You are plopped down on the bed with a squeal. “Goodnight Y/n,” 

“I don’t wanna sleep anymore,” you grab at his arm. “Come cuddle me,” you pull him towards you. 

“I am not cuddling you in my sisters bed while you are high Y/n,” 

“What about in your bed while I'm high?” you move to sit up and he pushes you down back onto the bed. 

“Not tonight Y/n we can talk in the morning when you’re sober,” an amused smile on his face, 

“But I am not gonna be brave enough in the morning,” you scootch back in the bed. 

“Why is that Y/N?” 

“Because.” you stand up on your knees and waddle walk to him. “You are a very attractive man,” you are now almost eye to eye with him. “You walk around without a shirt like all the time. I think I have seen you more without a shirt than with a shirt honestly,” you bring your hands up to his chest. “But of course you’re wearing a shirt now,” You pull at the fabric on his abdomen. 

“Is that it?” he asks. His hands coming over yours. Holding your small hands in his. You could feel his heart thrumming in his chest. 

“And your voice,” you throw your head back in a groan. “Your fucking voice. Sends shivers down my spine,” he leans in. You can feel his breath on the side of your neck. 

“Keep it coming princess,” his hands squeeze yours. “You’re just feeding my ego.” that coaxes a laugh out of you. 

“You are such an ass,” You shake free of his grasp and fall back into the bed. “I’m going to go to bed before I say more things that will embarrass me in the morning,” He chuckles and grabs the blanket at the end of the bed and tosses it over you. 

“I’ll see you in the morning princess,” 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

A very annoying noise pulls you out of your sleep. Almost like gunfire? You turn over in bed and let out a groan. The noise continues. That’s definitely gunfire. You shoot up straight in the bed. 

“Well good morning beautiful,” Gemma pipes. “You slept for,” she looks over at the clock. “Sixteen hours. Damn,” You take in your surroundings. Gem is sitting next to you on the bed. The tv on her dresser is paused displaying the visuals of some gorey zombie movie. 

“Why would you let me sleep that long?” You toss the blanket off you. You feel like you’re cooking. 

“Bitch I tried to wake you up three times. I even called mom to come in and check your pulse,” she laughs. She then presses play and turns her attention back to the movie. Your stomach rumbles. You slide out of the bed and stretch when your feet hit the floor. 

“Well I am starving!” you grab your phone off th charger and head towards the kitchen. You decide it’s a breakfast at two in the afternoon kinda day so you start to make yourself some eggs. You basically live at Gem’s house so you are pretty comfortable making yourself food and stuff like that. You can hear someone coming down the stairs and assume it’s Gem until you feel arms come around your waist. Your breathing comes to a stop and your heart jumps into your throat. 

“Glad to see you’re alive,” You feel Harry’s breath on your neck. Goosebumps prickle at your skin. You feel red hot where his hands rest at your waist. 

“Me too,” is all you can muster out. After a very awkward length of time. 

“How’d you sleep?” He asks moving in closer. Now his entire body is pressed up against you. 

“Really well apparently,” you whisper. It just feels like a whispering moment. 

“Good,” he rests his head in your shoulders. “So ho did you like being high?” He chuckles  

“I enjoyed it,” you feel like you can’t breathe. In the best way. “Pretty sure I embarrassed myself,” his thumb has started to rub back and forth at the exposed skin at the hem of your shirt. 

“You didn’t do anything embarrassing I don’t think,” you can feel his smile against you. The eggs you have been trying to focus really hard in are finally done and you move to take the pan off the stove which causes Harry to release you from his hold.

“I can remember some things that maybe shouldn’t have been said,” you shrug while you pile the eggs on to the plate and plop a French toast into the pan. You turn back to take a look at Harry. He is wearing black sweats and a plain t shirt. Still looks like he could be a Calvin Klein model. 

“I don’t know y/n. What do you remember saying?”

“Things I will not repeat,” you turn back to your food and flip the French toast over. 

“Come one y/n you gotta give me something,” he teases. 

“I have nothing to say to you. I barely know you,” you lie. 

“Y/n you practically live here. I see you pretty much everyday. You may not know me but I definitely know you,” he is now next you you. You finish up your food and begin to plate it. You move to walk away and he grabs you lightly causing you to stop. 

“What do you want Harry?” You whine 

“I wanna bend you over this counter and fuck you till you can’t walk,” your breath catches in your throat. “But I can’t risk Gem or mom walking in and seeing. That wouldn’t be fun,” you just stare at him. Dumbfounded. “Would you like that? Would you like being bent over and fucked so hard you can’t walk princess?” You nod. “I need words y/n,” 

“Yes,” you muster

“Yes what?” Harry is now right in front of you. The only thing separating you is the plate of food you just made. 

“Yes Sir,” Harry then quickly grabs the plate and basically flings it onto the counter grabs you by the back of your hair and brings your lips to his and kisses you. You melt into his mouth and let out a moan. You bring your hands up to his chest then wrap around his shoulders. His hands grasp at your waist and pulls you closer to him. Before you know it your sat up on the counter with Harry between your legs. Just as he runs his clothed length onto you footsteps make their way down the stairs. Harry takes a big step back and you jump off the counter. You grab your food and sit at the table. Gemma rounds the corner right as you take your first bite. 

“I’m gonna run to the store and get some things for dinner, you wanna come y/n?” Gem asks. Keys in hand. 

“No I’m okay.Gonna finish my food and probably go home so I can shower,” you stab another bite of eggs and bring the fork to your mouth.

“Okay well I’ll see you later then,” she gives you a smile and turns to leave. You wave at her and as soon as the door closes behind her Harry is sitting at the table next to you. 

“She won’t be back for like an hour?” he suggests. You smile and stab a piece of french toast to your mouth. 

“Gives me time to eat,” you laugh. He leans back in the chair and just watches you. You slowly eat your food. Basically nibbling at it. He groans and shoves the plate away from you and before you know it you are over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. “Hey I was eating!” you laugh. Which is met with a soft swat on your ass. 

“It’ll be there when you’re done.” you wiggle in his hold making it harder to carry you. “You better stop that before you get hurt,” You wiggle harder and his hand swats at your ass again. This time quite a bit harder. It reveals a moan from you. “Oh you like that huh?” He smacks your ass again and then you are plopped down on his bed. You can’t help but smile up at him. It’s really happening. You’ve been dreaming of fucking this man since he brough Gem lunch, Literally since the first time you had seen him you had wanted to feel what it liked to be under him. 

“What’s the smile for Y/n?” he asks. You just shrug. His hand scoops up your chin and makes you look him in the eye. “Come on, use your words y/n,” you take in a much needed breath. 

“I’ve wanted to fuck you since the first time I saw you Harry,” a smile breaks across his face. 

“Ditto y/n,” a blush creeps up your neck and across your cheeks. “I was picking Gem up from work and you were walking to your car. And I don’t know. Everything about you turned me on. Hell I wanted to bend you over the hood of your car and make you scream while all of your co-workers watched,” you have a shit eating grin plastered on your face. “Well except Gem of course that would be weird,” and with that he leans down and kisses you, but you can’t help but laugh at the last comment. 

“So you have wanted to fuck me longer then I’ve wanted to fuck you,” you chuckle. 

“I guess I have huh?” He is now kissing you and slowly making his way over you. You have your back pressed flat against the mattress. Your lips locked with Harry’s. His hands locking your body under him. Your hands venture under his shirt and up his chest. His legs are now trapping your hips and he moves to sit up and removes his shirt in one movement. You look at his tattoos in a new light. The way they curve and move with his body. Bend and contorte as he rids himself of his clothes. You reach up and ghost your fingers over the ink engraved into his skin. 

“You’re so beautiful Harry,” you whimper. 

“I don’t even hold a candle to you Y/n,” His hand runs up the side of your body. Waist, hoovers over your breasts, shoulders, and then his fingers wrap around your neck. “Such a beautiful thing,” He then leans down and kisses you. Hard. Your arms wrap around the back of his neck in an effort to get closer to him. You need to be closer. You manage to get yourself out from under him and sit on his lap while he lays flat on the bed. You whip off your shirt and his hands come up to your waist, his fingers rubbing at your exposed skin. 

Once you have your bra unclipped his hands move to your shoulders to rid your frame of the fabric. His long slender fingers bring the red straps down your arms. 

“Fucking beautiful,” He reaches for ypur chest but gives you a look like hes asking for reassurance. You nod. His hands grab at you and his skin feels so warm against yours. You drop your dead back and let out a huff of air and roll your hips against his. Which causes Harry to hiss in pleasure. “Fucking shit I can’t wait to feel you princess,” his grasp on you tightens. 

“Daddy please,” you whimper. He whispers some more curses under your breath. He reaches up and grasps you by your neck. You follow his lead. He has you now seated at the edge of the bed while he releases himself from his pants. Then taking off the black cloth completely leaving it on the floor in a puddle. 

“Open,” you slowly open your mouth and his thumb slips between your lips and you instinctively begin to suck at his salty skin. “Such a good girl,” he groans. He pulls his thumb from your grasp and brings his hard member to your mouth, teasing the tip back and forth across your lips. You stick your tongue out and bring your hands to rest on his hip. You pull your legs onto his bed and sit on your feet. He pushes the tip past your lips and you instantly start to suck on him. He pulls at your hair and starts pushing and pulling your mouth against his cock. “Such a pretty little whore,” you look up at him and try to make eye contact but he has his head thrown back and his eyes shut tight. An angelic sight. You let out a little moan. He instantly looks down at you. “Look at you sucking daddies cock like a pretty little whore, look so good with daddy’s cock in your mouth,”

He pulls you off of him and pushes you back onto the bed and pulling you to the edge. His hands are at your waistband and pulls the pants off. Your knees fall to the sides and he slowly and very lightly guides his hands from your ankles to the hem of your panties. He is playing with the slightly damp fabric. Just barely slipping his fingers under the barrier. You thrust your hips up into his touch. “You want daddy to touch you?” he asks in a hushed voice. You nod. “Words princess,”

“Yes please daddy, let me feel you please,” you whine out. 

“Good girl keep begging,” his hand moves closer to your center. 

“Daddy please I just wanna feel you. I’ve been so good Daddy please I just need to feel you,” you arch your back up and grasp at the bed sheets in anticipation. He leans down and begins kisses over your clothed warmth. 

“Okay Princess, such a good girl asking so nicely for Daddy,” he presses a harder kiss over your clit. “Such a pretty girl,” he whispers against your hidden skin. Like he wasn’t talking to you, like he was talking to your cunt. 

He pushed the fabric to the side and dives into your center. You let out a moan and you let go of the sheets and grab onto the long curls in between your legs. “Fuck Daddy please that feels so good,” he continues to lap and suck at your damp folds. His fingers play at your entrance. You keep thrusting towards him. Wanting him closer and deeper. “Daddy please I wanna feel you,” He smiles against you and pushes into you. Your walls basically sucking him in. He laughs against your skin. 

“So wet for Daddy, such a good girl,” you let your head fall back onto the mattress. 

“Thank you daddy, thank you,” you whimper and whine as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. His fingers find the perfect spongy spot inside of you and he begins sucking on your clit and it makes you explode against his mouth. “Daddy please, Daddy yes,” you repeat and repeat as you ride out the orgasm. He kisses his way up your body and to your neck. You lean your head to the side so he can have access to more skin. 

“Holy fuck such a pretty little thing,” he ruts himself against your exposed cunt. “Squirting all over Daddy like a good little whore,” you are in slight shock of the words he just said. “What you didn’t know you could squirt,” you shake your head. “Well you just soaked me baby,” He smiles and kisses you. You kiss him back just as hard. You can taste yourself on his lips. You groan against him. 

“I need to feel you daddy, I wanna feel full,” he picks himself up and scampers across the rooms and starts ruffling through some drawers. You just sit on the bed and watch him. He makes a little noise and turns back to you with a smile on his face. Holding up a little foil and you laugh at him. He rips it open and rolls it down his length. You are kinds scared of his dick to be honest. He's about average length but he is definitely going to stretch you out. You pick yourself up off the bed and lean into kiss him as he makes his way to the bed. He continues to kiss you as you bring the two of you down to his bed. He crawls over you and places himself in between your legs. 

“You ready princess?” he asks 

“Yes. Please Daddy. Please,” he kisses you as he pushes into you. Very slowly. You both gasp at the feeling of him pressing through the barrier. Your slick walls let him in nice and easy with little resistance. He groans against your mouth and you feel his hips thrust against you. You wrap your legs around him and pull him into you completely. You let out a very loud moan at the feeling. 

“Holy fuckin shit y/n,” Harry moans into you. He stays there while you adjust to his size. After a few moments he begins to slowly pull all the way back out. Then slowly bottoms out again. “So wet and warm for me baby,” He begins to slowly pick up the pace. Pulling himself all the way out and going balls deep back. The little whimpers you make turn into moans as he thrusts harder and harder. You are raking your nails down his back as he destroys you. 

“Daddy please,” is all you can make out. Over and over. His hands make his way to your center and start to play with your clit. Your orgasm is coming closer and closer. 

“Come on, baby give it to me,” those words send you over the edge. Your vision goes spotty as you scream his name over and over. You clench around him your orgasm sending your legs into shivers. “So good for me. Such a good little whore,” His hips start to stutter against yours. He lets out little groans and gasps as he releases himself into the condom deep inside of you. Your breathing starts to even out as he collapses onto you. Falling to the side as he rests his head on your chest. You wrap your finger in his hair and begin to brush the hair out of his face. 

“Harry,” you let out a breath. Sounding astonished. 

“Yea,” he lets out a laugh. He sits up and pulls the condom off. He ties off the end and tosses it into the trash by his desk and crawls back over to you. Wrapping himself around you and pulling you to his chest. His arms enveloping you. “You really are beautiful,” his hand swipes at your cheek. Your face flushes. “So beautiful,” you shake your head and look away from him. “Don’t look away from me princess. I just wanna see you,” and the two of you lay in bed together for a while before you get up to go to the bathroom. When you come back clothed in his discarded t-shirt. He is sitting at his desk with a pipe in his hands smoking a bowl. You smile at the view of him and walk over and sit yourself on his lap. He wraps his arms around you and looks up at you. He smiles and some of the smoke he's holding leaks out of his mouth. 

You pull him into you and kiss him. He releases the smoke from his lungs and you inhale deeply. You hold it for as long as you can. Then you cough a few times and he rubs your back. 

“Such a good girl,” He places a few kisses on your neck. “My good girl,” he rubs his hands on your thighs. 

“Yours?” He smiles. 

“Please?” you nod. 

“All yours,” he smiles and pulls you in for another kiss.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles dom #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #stoner #smut #long hair harry #lhh #gemma styles #best friends brother

[cinemastyles-blog]

Your Brother Will Kill Me

Summary: Wattpad request by cinemaaarry - “i would love to see harry and sister of his best friend trope!”

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, oral, unprotected sex, hair pulling, choking, fluff

Y/b/n -> your brothers name || Y/f/n -> your friends name

Master

LONG HAIR HARRY

“Ah. She’s alive.” Harry laughs, “Thought you’d at least sleep until noon.”

“Hey buzz kill.” I say with an eye roll.

My brother scoffs, “What’s your issue?” I walk over to the fridge and mumble, “Your friend is my issue.”

I hear them laugh.

“What’s so funny?” I ask as I pour juice into my cup. They look back at me, “You’re just mad that we ruined you and y/f/n’s night.”

“Yeah. You did. I thought you were staying at his house.” I take a sip and set my glass down, my eyes meeting Harry’s. He smirks, “Probably saved you from doing something dumb, like calling that ex asshole of yours.”

I tilt my head, the thoughts that we’re thunk last night spill into my head and I raise an eyebrow, “Not the dumb thing I was thinking of doing.” I smirk, “But okay.”

Harry tilts his head back and smirks as he shakes his head.

“No, Harry’s right.” My oblivious brother starts, “You didn’t need to call him, so I’m glad we came home.”

Harry stares at him for a few seconds before looking over at me and laughing, “Yeah, y/b/n, you’re right.”

“What? What did I miss?” He looks back and fourth between me and Harry and I shrug, “I don’t know. I have to go see if y/f/n is still alive.”

I look in the room and see y/f/n sleeping peacefully. I shut the door quietly and walk over, plopping down on the couch and flipping the tv on.

“Really, y/n?” Your brother says with an attitude.

“It’s my house and I’m letting you stay here.” I smirk at him as he nods with sigh, “Fine.”

My eyes meet Harry’s and I lick my lips at I look back at the tv.

I’m not even watching it, I’m thinking about the possibilities that could have happened if Harry and I’s time wasn’t rudely cut short last night.

“You’re drank a lot, y/n.” Harry’s voice causes me to jump out of my drunken stare into the fridge.

“Not uh.” I giggle as I shut the door, the light leaving us in the dark, “I’m f-fine.” I feel Harry’s presence grow closer and I pull my bottom lip between my teeth.

He lays a hand on the counter next to me and leans against it, “You feel okay?”

I sigh, “I’d feel better if you were insi-“

Harry cuts off my drunken words with pressing his lips to mine and pulling me close to his body his with a tight grip on my hips.

I moan against his lips and he leans back, “Shh, love. Don’t want to get caught now do we?”

I shake my head, “I don’t really care right now.” I push my lips onto his, my tongue slipping into his mouth. I fist his shirt and pull him towards me, his arm wraps around my waist and leans me back slightly before he pulls away and quickly makes his way to the couch.

“Why is it so-“ my brother flips the lights on and looks at me, “What are you doing?”

“Getting water, what are you doing?” I say placing my hand on the counter for more stability, “Why are you here?”

“Harry’s roommate is hosting some game night shit and we didn’t want any part of that.” He walks over and hands Harry a bottle of beer.

Harry looks over at me and winks.

“Y/n. Hello. Y/n.”

I blink and look over at them, “What?”

“Earth to, y/n.” Harry says waving his hand, I laugh slightly and shake my head, “There you are.” He smirks at me and leans back against the couch.

“We’re going to order food, do you want anything?” My brother asks. “Yeah, just get me whatever.” I look back at the tv.

“Okay, I’ll go call that in quick, what would y/f/n want?” He asks as he stands up. I look up at him, “Just get her what you get me.”

He nods and walks away. I glance over at Harry, who looks so relaxed. I just want to lay on his chest.

“Hmm?”

I look up at him, “N-Nothing.” I look away from him and can feel the heat rising in my cheeks.

“Mhm. Sure it doesn’t have anything to do about last night?”

I slowly look over at him and shrug, “Maybe.”

“We’re not finished.”

His words send a shiver of excitement down my spine, “You think so?”

“Know so. As soon as I get you alone-“ he stops talking as my brother walks back in, “Surprises you two haven’t killed each other.”

“No, she’s been alright lately.” Harry jokes with a snort, “I think she’s finally starting to warm up to me.”

I shoot him a glare and hide my smile, “Mm. Don’t flatter yourself Styles.”

——

“What are you doing up so late?”

I look over and see Harry leaning against the wall, “Can’t sleep.” I shrug and smile at him, “What are you guys doing here? I thought you wouldn’t be back until late?”

He walks over and grabs a water from the fridge before leaning down on the counter beside me, “Something your brother ate, made him sick.” He laughs slightly, “Sorry, that’s not funny.”

I laugh quietly, “No, it kind of is. I tell him all the time that what he gets from Moe’s makes his stomach upset but he never listens to me.”

Harry chuckles and let’s out a sigh, slowly turning his head towards me, “So.”

I look over at him and draw circles on the counter, “So..”

Without any more words, he stands up and pulls me under him. His lips meet mine as he lifts me up on the counter, “We’re alone.”

“We are.” I tangle my fingers in his hair and tug slightly. He moans lowly against my lips and nods towards my room. I nod and slide down off the counter. I pull Harry with me and shut my door, making sure to lock it before I turn back to him. His shirt is already off and he’s looking at me, “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this.”

“Be in my room?” I tease as I slip my shirt off, dropping it to the floor. He shakes his head and walks towards me, pushing my back against the wall, “Touch you like this.”

I arch my back and wrap my arms around his neck, “I’ve thought about this and so much more so many times.”

“Yeah? What did you think about?”

I bite my lip as he kisses down my neck, “You.” I breathe out, “And me.”

He hums against my skin.

“I’ve thought about all the nasty things you could possibly do to me.”

He leans back, “We’ll have to make tonight a little bit of a quickie. But..” he pauses and kisses me, “I promise I��ll make it up to you.”

I nod and he pulls me over towards the bed, “Take your pants off.”

I do as he says and lay down when he points to the bed. I have a feeling I know what he’s about to do, but I can’t help but feel nervous.

“You good?” He asks as he gets on his knees at the end of the bed. I smile and nod, “Oh yeah.” I bite my lip and close my eyes as his hands slide up my legs, starting at my ankles.

He drags my panties down my thighs, shins and over my feet and drops them onto the floor.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispers quietly with a smile, “Your brother will kill me if he know what I was doing to his little sister.”

I cover my mouth and laugh. I nod, agreeing with him before I pull him down to kiss me.

He makes his way down my body, kissing my skin with open lips. He pushes my knees apart and his lips attach to my clit. I throw my hand over my mouth and arch my back.

“Shit.” I moan into the palm of my hand, “Fuck, fuck.” I reach down with my other hand and lay it flat on Harry’s head, moving my hips as he licks between my folds. He pins my hips down and groans against me.

My eyes roll back as he begins to tongue fuck my soaked cunt, my breathing getting quicker as he continues.

“Shit.” I gasp as I slam my hand down onto the blanket, gripping it tight as I bite my lip hard.

He slides a finger in and I moan kinda loud, I can tell it was loud because Harry mumbles a quick, “Mm.” against me. I look down at him and he’s looking directly up at me, his tongue still working slowly along side his finger.

I nod and whimper in response. I laying back and arching my back as he slides in another finger.

“Fuck.” I say almost silent. I can feel my orgasm rushing in.

He sucks my clit and pumps his fingers at a slight faster pace, pulling me to the edge.

I arch my back high off the bed and cover my mouth with both hands as I cum, clenching and unclenching around his fingers.

He slowly pulls them out as I rest my back down onto the bed, panting.

I look down and Harry puts his fingers between his lips and closes them, groaning as his eyes roll back.

I watch in awe as he licks his fingers clean. He opens his eyes and smirks, his pushing his bottom lip down slightly as he pulls them out.

He crawls up and hovers his body over mine, “You taste divine, my love.”

I lay a hand on his cheek and smile up at him. He reaches down and pushes his underwear down, just enough to pull his throbbing cock out.

“Do you have any condoms in here?” He asks as he brushes hair out of my face. I shake my head, “No, but I don’t want to stop.”

“We’ll just have to be extra careful and hope for the best, right?” He chuckles and rubs the tip of his cock against me before sliding in.

I gasp and tilt my head back. He brings his hand up and lays it over my mouth, muffling my moans as he thrusts in completely. I clench around him as he gives me a second to adjust.

I nod and he pulls out, almost all the way and thrusts back in. He leans down, kissing my neck as his grip on my chin to cover my mouth tightens.

Small groans and curse words leave his mouth. He buries his face into my neck, “Shit, baby.”

I wrap my leg around his lower back and dig my nails into his shoulder and arm, moaning into his palm.

We both freeze as we hear my brothers bedroom door open up. We wait until we hear the shower next door turn on and I look up at Harry and giggle, “Time to hurry.”

He winks and flashes me a smile before reaching down to push my legs out. He leans up and starts to thrust again. I grab the blanket and arch my back, biting my lip hard.

My eyes roll back as I can feel my second orgasm coming in faster than the first. My body is consumed by pleasure and press both of my hands to my mouth to muffle my moans the best I can.

Harry’s thrusts get sloppy once he knows I came and he pulls out, pumping his cock as he cums on my waist with a grunt or two.

I point to the laundry basket with a towel laying over the side and he nods. He walks over to grab it and wipes me off first, then gets himself cleaned up.

We quickly throw on our clothes and he leans down to kiss me, “If he asks, you were asleep and I was on the couch laying down.”

I nod, “Got it.”

He smiles at me and gently grabs my chin, “I’ll be seeing you again very soon.” He winks before quickly and quietly sneaking out of my room.

——

Thank you for the request, if anyone has any other ideas, please feel free to send them my way!  

Tag list: @daddybuckethat @hsonlyangelxo @harrysluvv @tbsloneely @haroldsbabymama @victoria-styles

if you want to be added for new one shot updates click here -> Tag List Doc

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut oneshots #harry styles dirty one shot #harry styles smut #smut #harry styles dirty fanfiction #harry styles smutty fanfic #dirty oneshots #cinemastyles-blog #brothers best friend #Harry smut #long hair Harry #lhh #long hair harry smut #lhh smut oneshot #lhh smut #lhh dirty oneshot #lhh!harry #lhh smut oneshots #lhh era #lhh supremacy #lhh fan fiction #lhh smut one shot #dirty lhh smut #harry smut one shots #smutty fanfics #smut oneshots #dirty harry #dirty one shot

[harrywavycurly]

Hiii my loves!! So sorry I haven’t updated anything this week, it’s spring break and work was wild. To make it up to y’all I’m gonna ask what y’all want to see updated this upcoming week! I’ll list all the series I have that I have updates for and the 3 with the top picks I’ll make sure they get posted first!💖

*I’ll update this as the series gets votes so y’all can see if your fave series is winning to get updated first*

Series to pick from:

The last part of Cheater Joe-✔️✔️✔️✔️✔️✔️✔️

Country Club Eddie-✔️✔️

Boyfriend Joe Keery- ✔️

Sugar Daddy Steve -✔️

Eddie x Princess-✔️

Eddie x Southern Belle

Steddie x Pregnant Reader

Eddie x Pregnant Reader -✔️

Wrong Number, Right Time -✔️✔️✔️✔️✔️✔️✔️✔️✔️✔️

Husband Eddie

Boyfriend Harry Styles -✔️

Tell what you want updated here✨

#thank y’all for being the best #eddie munson series #steve harrington series #Joe Keery #husband eddie munson #boyfriend eddie munson #eddie munson social media au #texting joe keery #steve harrington social media au #my little dungeon master baby #my little fluffy haired baby #harry styles social media au #my little lanky baby

[descendantofthesparrow]

Half mer Harry concept art;

after the barrier goes down/Harry leaves the isle, his magic starts to come out, but in different ways than mers/half mers who have been within their magic since birth; his scales are basically colorless, they show up on his shoulders, his cheeks, thighs, forearms and topsides of his hands-until he transforms for the first time, his scares are iridescent, a constant shifting color that mostly land on opal-ish, until he finally lands on the gleaming scarlet red that only comes together when he dives into neverland waters for the first time. 

#harry hook descendants #disney descendants #half mermaid Harry Hook #trying to do a new hair art style for him #cuz that curly mess i usually do is headache lol #art #my art #Uma loves tracing his scales #they show up when Harry is in direct natural light or in any type of water #they kinda gleam under any type of light but they show up best under sun/moon light #i was gonna give him teefs but i decided that comes when he transforms for the first time #note if i dont get validation im gonna scream just so yall know

[wstevenphotography]

Browns & Blues…and Rain ☔️

#mature style #classic menswear #vintage style #classic style #sunday best #vintage #camel hair #wool challis #suede loafers #fox suede #fall #grey flannel #grey flannel trousers #celchuk socks #polobyralphlauren #berwick #EG Cappelli #utah #ivy hat #harris tweed #Jaxon and James

[melancholycatastrophe]

obligatory "you can't preach against toxic masculinity and say that men should embrace their femininity if you're just going to attack a (supposedly straight, because that's what you assume) man for taking inspiration from past queer men by demanding they share their sexualities with you or else you'll call them a queerbaiter or doing it for attention. the way you present yourself and your gender has nothing to do with your sexuality, and instead of trying to demonize a man for wearing dresses, skirts, make-up, nail polish, or indulge in traditionally feminine hobbies and saying "___ did it first and they're actually gay", you should be happy that its becoming more mainstream and popular for men to experiment with their gender expression. stop assuming that a "straight" man publicly embracing their femininity is attempting to "use queer aesthetics without actually being queer" when the queer aesthetic is literally what you have been fighting to be normalized for years. and while there are some men who do pretend to be queer for popularity, assuming everyone who does is more detrimental than you think. ESPECIALLY WHEN THE ONLY REASON YOU THINK SO IS BECAUSE THE PERSON IN QUESTION REFUSES TO SHARE THEIR SEXUALITY WITH YOU" post

#he's queerbaiting! #i have a research paper to write but tiktok's stupid argument on queerbaiting is causing me to rip out my hair #A MAN WEARING A DRESS IS NOT QUEERBAITING JUST BECAUSE HE MAY BR STRAIGHT HES JUST WEARING A DRESS #this post is about harry styles btw #ignoring the fact that he's said in multiple instances that he's attracted to men that shouldn't matter #and that he's expressed interest in feminine things back when he was still in one direction #it shouldn't matter at all #he's literally living his best life by being true to himself shut up #anyways

[creeperthescamp]

i went and saw don't worry darling with my sister tonight and yea its like a film like a movie

#martin posts #i was expecting it to be shit but it was actually pretty decent! always love a good 'ideallic world but somethings a bit off' story #florence pugh is great. chris pine with a lil grey in his hair is great. gemma chan is great. harry styles is not an actor but whatev #its not like i can do any better lmao. it wasnt like the best movie ever but it was fun and put a little twist on alt realities #it does scratch an itch for me with all the sinister 50s stuff and some feminist themes #also harry styles eats florence pughs pussy. they are just constantly ready to fuck its almost funny is this what being allo is like??

[yourlocalcamerarole]

Prince Hair Harry 💗

#emptying my camera roll #found it on pinterest #my baby #such a cutie #i love him #harry styles #harold #prince hair harry #my love #he so pretty #giggling and kicking my legs #he’s so soft #he’s so bbg #i love him so muuuuuch #hehehehehehe #oh my word #he’s so precious #he’s so princess #the best harry era #prince hair harry >>> #my favorite #mi amor #je t’adore

[jamminvroomvroom]

everything.

ln x fem!reader

in which you’re his best friend until you’re something more

hi! here you go lmao. probs the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written and i am obsessed with the concept! thank you for being here and baring with me - i loved writing this one and i’d love to hear what you think! huge shoutout to my girlies @mcmuppet and @lavenderlando ily both!

songs that set the mood: pink and white by frank ocean, daylight by harry styles, angel by finneas, enchanted by taylor swift, hate to be lame by lizzy mcalpine

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, friends to lovers brain rot, slight corruption kink, readers first time, qatar angst

6.4k words

“do you wanna talk about it?” you whispered softly, your hand resting on lando’s sagged shoulder.

your eyes were fixed on the third place plaque on his table in front of you, his very much fixed on the floor.

“no.” his reply was short and sweet, his tone conveying exactly how deflated he was.

you’d only flown in to qatar this morning, the october sun hitting you hard as you walked into the paddock, drastically different to the london climate you’d grown accustomed to. lando had all but begged you to come, your evening before spent on the phone, and you knew that he needed a friend, otherwise he never would have asked you to fly halfway around the world.

friends. that’s what you were.

you’d hugged him tight and told him that the weekend had to get better, and then his teammate put it on pole and got his first win. so, yeah, maybe it wasn’t going to get better and not even the podium could cheer him up.

his radio messages had hurt your heart, your chest aching as he self deprecated in the cockpit. he owned his mistakes, sure, but he’d taken it a step too far and you knew you had a job to do. you’d do anything, quite literally anything, to cheer him up.

you’d always found a way to be there for eachother, your friendship spanning five long years after you’d knocked a coffee over a guy you quickly recognised as the new mclaren driver. both nineteen and awkward as hell, you’d um-ed and er-ed and danced around one another in the busy pret in central london, chucking tissues at him, attempting to mop up the frothy mess all over his white sweatshirt.

eventually you’d just burst into laughter, lando immediately following suit. your cheeks were hurting from smiling at the curly haired stranger, intrigued by the very way his faced moved when he laughed, and he’d looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, not like someone that had just destroyed a brand new hoodie.

and just like that, a connection was born.

you’d gotten used to having a friend for only half the year, but he never let you feel the distance. paddock passes often fell through your letter box and you could usually be located in the background of his streams when he was home long enough to do them, the amount of times you’d been wrongfully accused of being his girlfriend a list as long as your arm. even in those moments of awkwardness, friendship prevailed and you both managed to crack up together about the conspiracy that you were more than friends.

and what an intriguing conspiracy it was.

“we should get you back to the hotel, you need to get some rest.” you told him, standing from the sofa and offering him your hand.

lando grabbed it, squeezing, his own special way of telling you he was grateful for your presence, and let you pull him up. as he tried to walk towards the door, you stopped him, hands on his shoulders. you wanted to shake him, tell him how fucking great he was. you didn’t think he’d appreciate that after an intense session in the car.

“hey, look at me. you got this, okay?” you smiled reassuringly, managing to get the smallest crack back from him, his lips upturning ever so slightly. something in his eyes told you that you’d succeeded, a small glimmer of an emotion that you didn’t know how to unpack.

friends.

that’s what you were.

-

you tried to ignore how touchy lando was being. you figured he just needed some comfort, physical touch not out of bounds in your friendship, but a new level had been reached.

on the entire walk through the paddock to his car, his hand sat comfortably on the small of your back, despite the endless amount of cameras pointed at you. his hand skimmed your thigh in the car, accidentally, you told yourself, and you had to avert your eyes when his hand graced your headrest as he reversed out of the parking space. knowing that he needed you in qatar so desperately that he’d flown you out was one thing, the way he was treating you once you got there was something else.

he’d opened your door when you pulled up at the hotel valet, helping you out of the car, his hand tucked in yours for a second longer than necessary. once again, his hand seemed to be glued to your lower back the whole way to the elevator.

the ding of the lift had you both shuffling out onto your floor, trailing towards your rooms in a heavy silence, something more left unsaid in the air.

you reached your door first, coming to a stop and shuffling around in your bag for your keycard.

“um, i need to be at the track early tomorrow. breakfast?” lando asked.

you turned to look at him, nodding your head profusely.

“of course, just drop me a message and i’ll come down and meet you.” you affirmed, your fingers finally grasping the piece of plastic that had, of course, fallen to the very bottom of your tardis of a tote bag.

you expected him to leave, but he lingered, as if there was something else on his mind.

“you okay?” you raised an eyebrow, unlocking your door. lando seemed to snap out of it then, awkwardly running a hand through his curls that had taken a brutal hit from the humidity. you liked the look on him, nonetheless.

“yeah, i- yeah, i think i just need some sleep.”

“okay, well, goodnight. let me know if you need anything.” you disappeared through the door then, the tension getting the better of you. you slumped against the shut door, wondering what he so clearly wanted to say.

-

the clock read 1:32am on your bedside.

a faint tapping had woken you up, and you groggily scanned the room, trying to find the source of the noise. you deduced that it was coming from your door, letting out a groan as you threw the cosy comforter off and trudged towards the disturbance.

you cracked it open, peeking through the gap and coming face to face with your best friend.

“lando?” you croaked, opening the door further.

“i’m sorry, can’t sleep. can i come in? it’s okay if not, i just didn’t know what to do.” he sounded so shy, something you didn’t recognise in the man stood before you, and you quickly swung the door open, ushering him inside.

“come, sit.” you waved for him to follow you across the room to the foot of your bed. he sat down beside you, the mattress dipping.

you patted your lap and he instantly knew what to do, laying down with his head in your lap. it’s something he did quite frequently when you were sprawled on his sofa at home, watching a shitty movie that neither of you were really paying attention to. you’d often be looking at him, praying he didn’t notice, and he’d be playing with your fingers, tracing the palm of your hand.

you couldn’t help yourself, running your hand through his curls. you didn’t mean to, stomach instantly twisting with embarrassment, but it was quickly twisting with something else. his eyes fluttered shut, a low groan falling from the back of his throat. it made your thighs clench, and he must have noticed, the tiniest smirk on his face.

“you okay?” lando asked, his eyes still shut, a look of relaxation finally on his face.

you coughed awkwardly.

“yeah, sorry. are you comfy?” you said teasingly, trying to cut the growing tension in the room.

“i am now, could fall asleep here.”

“you can, you know.” you whispered. his eyes flew open. your heart was hammering in your chest. this was new territory and you were worried you’d fucked up. sleepovers were also a norm, but one of you usually retired to a guest room, not the other side of eachothers beds.

“you want me to stay?” his voice rose in surprise.

“well, i mean, you can if you want, like, there’s space and-“ you rambled.

“do you want me to stay?” he repeated.

“is it gonna help?” you questioned cautiously.

“yes.” the confidence in which he replied did something to you.

“then stay.”

you crawled up the mattress, falling back into the place you’d so comfortably occupied just minutes before. you laid so still, watching with quiet curiosity as he slipped his hoodie off. his shirt came with it ever so slightly, riding up over his back, and you had to pry your eyes away, the ache between your thighs still ever present.

what on earth were you doing, allowing your best friend to crawl into bed with you? emotions were running so high, but it felt like a switch had been flipped ever since you hit the tarmac in qatar. every look, every touch was fuelled by something different to what it had been before and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not.

lando turned towards you, making his way back over to the bed. he looked apprehensive, as if he was thinking the same thoughts as you, wondering if there was any logic in what was about to happen. he seemed to come to the conclusion that this was, in fact, happening, crawling into bed beside you.

“is this okay?” lando breathed into the darkness of the room, his hand brushing yours. you were both as still as planks, mere centimetres separating you, the only light coming from the lamp beside the bed.

“yeah,” you took a deep breath, preparing for the words that were about to come tumbling out. “i’ve just never done this before.” you spoke quickly, sucking in another breath as you finished.

“you’ve never…”

“i’ve never shared a bed… like this.”

“like what?”

“with a… a guy?” your anxiety riddled words came out more like a question than an answer.

“oh. oh.” it seemed to dawn on lando then. “so, you’ve never… oh. i mean i can go if you’re uncomfortable.”

“lando, no, i just wanted you to know. i’m always comfortable with you.” you said, quietly baring your soul to him.

you weren’t sure why you’d basically told him you were a virgin. it held no relevance, he was just here to sleep, for some friendly comfort. he was not here for any other reason. and yet here you were, spilling the beans, all over the bed you found yourself sharing.

“i didn’t come here to, you know. i just needed you.”

you tried to ignore the pang in your chest and the annoying, minuscule butterfly springing to life in your belly.

“god, yeah i know! i didn’t think that you wanted to, well i mean not with me because why would you want me like that anyway, i get why you’re here, lando.” you rambled into the empty air. you heard yourself, groaning in embarrassment and dragging the cover over your face. lando laughed, pulling it back so he could see you again.

he was leaning over you, perched on his side, resting on his elbow.

“trust me, i’m more than happy with any part of yourself that you wanna give me.”

“don’t tease me, lando.” you scoffed. he was joking, right? right?

“i’m not! i promise, this is the one place i want to be.”

“why? why with me? i mean you could’ve called max. all he does is stream when you’re not home, think he misses you.” you were half joking, half deadly serious.

“come on, it’s you. it’s just… its been so hard this year, being away from you so much more. and then you came all the way here…” lando trailed off, averting eye contact.

you turned on your side to face him, placing your hand over his affectionately.

“you needed me.”

“exactly. i needed you. you.”

he gave you a look, one that you didn’t recognise, but you understood what it meant. it said more than anything had done since this confusingly beautiful interaction began. you got it, then, why you were here.

“lando-“

“i know that i shouldn’t tell you this and i can’t just spring this on you in the middle of the night, but i-“

“lando!”

“what?”

“kiss me.”

and god, he kissed you. the air was sucked out of your lungs, dragged out of you by the way he put his hands on your body, so urgent.

you sunk back into the mattress, his body over yours, a hand cupping your cheek while the other rested on your waist, stroking the skin there, exposed from your ridden up top. your hands were in his curls, and you revelled in the way that you could shamelessly touch them now.

he paused for a second, nose brushing yours, breathless and grinning down at you, a knowing smile that was so beautiful that it rendered you speechless.

“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this.” lando breathed, scanning your face as if he was trying to take it all in. you, panting beneath him, coy smile, cheeks flushed. you’d never looked so gorgeous to him.

you leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, relishing in the moment. you were lost in him, thinking back to the very first time you’d locked eyes and how you never thought it would come to this. this, the way he was holding you, was the best surprise.

lando pulled away, peppering your flushed cheeks with kisses, a dazed giggle passing your swollen lips.

he flopped onto his side, grinning at the ceiling mindlessly. you hadn’t seen him smile that big all weekend.

“are you tired?” you whispered, lips brushing his cheek, his light stubble rough against you. you wondered how it would feel elsewhere, scratching over your bare skin.

“no.”

“then why did you stop?” you asked, the words falling off your tongue slowly, sinking all over him like honey. you felt the way he tensed up, the suggestion that laced the seemingly innocent question making you tingle.

“i didn’t come here for that.” he reiterated.

“and i didn’t let you in for that. but here we are.” you weren’t ashamed of what you were asking, the moment was right, the one, and you knew it.

“it’s too soon.” lando was apprehensive. he was always overly protective of you, previously as his friend, but this, god, this was an entirely different ball park and he was proceeding with caution, against every natural instinct in his body screaming at him.

“says who?”

“it’s your first. it needs to be special.”

“everything about this is better than i could have ever imagined.”

“are you sure you want it to be me?” there it was again, those unrecognisable nerves that made everything inside of you flutter.

“lando, there is no one else i could ever want to do this with more than i want to do it with you. i want it to be you.”

“but… now? are you sure? i don’t want you to regret this.”

“the only thing i regret is that this didn’t happen sooner.”

“one last time. i just need to hear it one last time.”

“i want you, lando.”

and with that, the air changed, charged with a different kind of tension. lando pulled you on top of him, hands firm on your body, the action itself gentle. you steadied yourself, hands on his shoulders, his resting on your waist.

“can i take this off?” he tugged at the hem of your shirt. you nodded profusely. “words, sweetheart. i need you to use your words.” lando cupped your jaw as he said it, squeezing ever so slightly, enough to turn you into putty in his hands.

“please. yes.” you said shakily.

he smiled softly, slowly peeling the material off of your body, up over your head and tossed carelessly onto the floor. he kept his eyes on yours, despite the fact you were now left bare, aside from the white cotton panties that separated you both. he pawed at your sides, kneading gently at your soft hips.

“we’re gonna start slow, okay? gonna take my time with you.” he muttered, eyes on yours before they trailed slowly down, across your face, neck, collarbone, further and further until he was taking all of you in. he began to stroke the underside of your breast with his thumb, watching the way your body tensed under his feather-like touch.

“okay.” you choked out, head tipping back as he placed a kiss to the base of your throat.

his kiss trailed further down your body, peppered in the valley of your breasts, and then you stopped breathing, the air caught in your throat because he was looking at you, really, truly looking at you, as his tongue found your nipple. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, not when he was looking at you like that, not when he was making you feel this good already.

lando pulled away, just for a second, just so that he could shift you from his lap onto his thigh. he was still fully clothed beneath you, totally in control, and you craved him in a way you didn’t know was humanly possible, so much so that you didn’t need the encouragement he was giving you to start rolling your hips, pussy grinding down on his covered thighs, the friction of your underwear driving you insane.

“oh, baby. you want me so badly, don’t you? should’ve asked me sooner. m’gonna make you feel so good.” his hands were on your hips, guiding you backwards and forwards on him.

“it feels so- oh, god.” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls, back arching further into him as your thighs clenched around his. he licked over your collarbone oh so slowly, a shiver running down your taut spine.

and then he was kissing you again, tongue slow over yours, his fingertips surely leaving marks where he was controlling your pace. the kiss was filthy, untameable, and you found yourself dragging against him slower, harder.

“i need you.” you panted, forehead falling on his shoulder as you pulled away from his lips, goosebumps pricking your sweat slicked skin. you were so close to an orgasm, desperate to feel him everywhere.

“i want you to come for me like this first, okay? can you do that for me, baby?” he cooed, bouncing his leg ever so slightly. “look at me.” and you did, somehow mustering the strength to pull yourself back up and find his darkened eyes.

you were a mess of curses when you let go, your body convulsing, collapsing into him as you came. you were throbbing on his thigh, one glance down at where you were grinding against him displaying your slick. his arms went around your body, flipping you onto your back so that you were resting against the mattress.

“you did so well, baby.” lando crooned, resting over you on his forearms. you stared up at him in awe, blinking away the haze. “do you want more?”

“i want everything.” you breathed, pulling him against you. you smoothed your hands over his shirt until you reached the hem, dragging it up over his back. he helped you take it off, and then it was lost to the room. you grabbed at his shoulder blades, smooth, muscular planes of bronzed skin so warm under your touch. you felt insatiable, like nothing was enough, totally intoxicated by him and everything he was managing to make you feel.

lando’s hand slid down your body, searching for the band of your underwear. when he reached his destination, he toyed with the lacy edges, letting them snap against the pudge of your belly, teasing you. you bucked your hips, frustrated, and he used the opportunity to cup your pussy, feeling where you’d soaked through the cotton. the groan he let out was carnal, animalistic, almost needy. he could feel all of you, how you ached and dripped, how you needed the everything that you’d requested.

“you’re so fucking good for me, god.” lando almost slurred his words, voice lower than you’d ever heard it. you keened at the sound, pushing your hips further into him.

lando didn’t give you much time to dwell on it, mouth latching onto your underwear where it met the crease of your thigh. he was so close, so tantalising close to where you were aching for him and you were just about levitating off the bed when his teeth grazed your inner thigh. you couldn’t see him looking at you, losing it, inhibitions out the window. your eyes were already squeezed shut when he began mouthing over your cloth-covered pussy, spit further ruining the sodden material.

“take them off.” you cried out, tugging hard at his curls that you hadn’t even realised you were clutching for dear life. and lando was a good listener, because he complied immediately, tearing the lace down your legs like a starved man.

his tongue was on you then, everywhere all at once, running through your folds and over your clit. you didn’t know if you were dead or alive, a different kind of pleasure than anything you’d ever experienced coursing hot through your veins. lando switched between long, slow licks, his tongue flat against you, and rapid kitten licks, burying his face in your cunt.

everything was moving in slow motion, your hands grasping frantically at anything you could reach; his curls, the sheets, his shoulders. you could barely make out what he was saying, his words muffled, lost to the soft flesh between your legs. it seemed to echo, every lick, stroke, word. you snapped out of it, finally, when he pulled away.

“more? you want my fingers, baby? gonna get you nice and ready for me.” you just nodded, voice lost to the air of the room.

one arm locked around your thigh, pinning you still, and the other snaked up your leg until he reached the mess between your thighs. he took a moment to take it in, how wet you were, how fucked out you looked, knowing full well he must have looked the same, unhinged as he gave into your shared desire that he’d tried his best to keep hidden. he’d never felt more stupid in his life for holding back, as he took in the ethereal delight sprawled under his touch.

when lando slid the first finger in, your stomach twisted deliciously. he watched you carefully, searching for discomfort but all he could find was sheer bliss, written all over your face as clear as daylight. he worked the digit in and out, nice and slow, curling against your walls. he could feel how tight you were, clamping around just one finger and he thought his head was gonna explode. he added another finger, watching the way you took him in, twisting his fingers.

“are you gonna let go for me again, sweetheart?” lando punctuated his words by putting his mouth back on you, teeth grazing your clit as he sucked.

you were thrashing, a silent scream building from the fire in your belly. you could just about make out the way he was spurring you on, his mouth running as you spilled over the edge, covering his fingers. you saw white, maybe god, ears ringing, and when you finally mustered the energy to look at him, you could have come for a third time. lando looked feral, lips red and coated in everything you had to offer him. his eyes were glazed over, a hazy grey that sent a jolt through your body, the aftershocks of the orgasm setting in.

“christ.” was all you could sigh out. a lazy smile painted your face, your eyes blown out, everything a little blurry. everything except him.

you could feel him scaling up your body, crawling over you until he was level with your face. he placed a kiss to your throat, your jaw and finally your lips; when he pulled away all that was left was shared giddy smile, both of you suddenly shy. you couldn’t stop the roaming of your hands, exploring all the parts of him that you could reach. when you found the waist band of his joggers, your hand grazing his abs as you did, he sucked all of the air out of the room, a sharp inhalation making him tense up.

“you still want all of me?” he breathed, his shaky breath fanning your face. lando was obsessed with hearing you say it, obsessed with how you wanted him as much as he needed you.

“all of you. lando, this is… you’re perfect.” you admitted, lips brushing his. your hands pushed the material down his hips, nails raking over him as you did. he couldn’t seem to wait any longer, kicking them off the rest of the way, his boxers quickly following suit.

you couldn’t help but stare, all of him bare against all of you. your nipples brushed his chest, his hands holding you close, your hands threaded through his curls. it was like you were sussing each other out, eyes watching lips and hands getting lost. you stayed like that for a moment, pressed together, closer and closer, until he was slotted between your legs like he was coming home. lando searched your face one last time, hunting for a smidge of discomfort.

“are you ready for me?” he whispered.

“yes.”

the initial stretch burned, but he slid into you smoothly, his cock slipping through your folds with ease. he felt you clamp down on him, his head thrown back as far as it could go, thick neck exposed to you. you bit down on his shoulder, where it met the base of his throat, trying to mask the gasp of pleasure that sent your eyes rolling back in your head. he grunted at the sensation, enjoying the sting.

“oh, fuck.” he was shuddering, trying to keep himself in check.

“don’t, oh god,” you started, meeting the roll of his hips. “don’t hold back.”

“we gotta go easy.”

“i don’t want easy.” you tightened around him then, and he saw stars.

“you’re so fucking good.” lando groaned, an edge of excitement in his voice, and then he unleashed everything that he’d held back. how much he wanted you, and a bittersweet weekend of frustration versus success came crashing down and he couldn’t do anything except give himself to you exactly how you wanted.

lando was a delicious weight on top of you, the drag of his hips slow, meeting yours hard. the pressure made you lightheaded, his body moving against yours like the thick drip of honey, smooth and sweet. you couldn’t make sense of it, of how fucking good he felt, grinding deeper and deeper into you like he’d found buried treasure. the overstimulation had your third orgasm building nice and quick, waves of pleasure making you dizzy.

“you like it like this? like when i fuck you nice and hard?” yes you did. “don’t think i can go without this now, you know that? such a good fucking girl.” you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just let his words wash over you. “so beautiful, taking me so well.”

you couldn’t process that this was your best friend lando. this was a different person, it had to be. yet, somehow, it made sense that the man you knew, the one who spoke his mind, mischievous and troublesome, would be like this, a god above you as he fucked deeper into you with every thrust. he was filthy and gentle, brutal and sweet. it didn’t make sense, but it also just did.

“are you gonna come for me? one more time, baby. need to feel that perfect fucking pussy.” well, his wish was your command, because then you were gushing. the one thing you could feel was him, none of your other senses worked, you couldn’t see past the tears that fell, couldn’t get any words past your lips. maybe you screamed, you weren’t exactly sure.

lando was kissing you everywhere. each hip bone was met with his lips, your stomach, over your ribs, breasts, clavicle, neck. your face was covered in kisses next, your cheeks, forehead, a dainty peck to your nose.

“can you look at me?”

your eyes cracked open slowly, the exhaustion hitting as you came back to reality.

“was that okay?” there he was again, this shy version of lando that you couldn’t get used to.

“okay? lando that was…” you shook your head in awe. “that meant everything to me.”

he smiled then, that gorgeous, gorgeous smile, the one with the crinkles by his eyes and his teeth on full display. you melted.

“me too. you’re fucking beautiful. so, so fucking beautiful. should’ve told you sooner.” he murmured.

his words made you think, way too hard for your current state. what happened next? lando had said some things, some pretty big things that you didn’t know how to comprehend. it was crazy, how scared you were to bring it back up to him, considering he’d just been inside of you.

“sooner?” you whispered, hardly audible. lando was midway through tucking you both into bed, pulling your flushed, naked body into his own under the duvet.

“yes. a lot sooner.” he replied, not a trace of doubt in his voice.

‘how much sooner?’ you thought to yourself, unable to stay awake any longer to agonise over it, your dreams haunted by the way he touched you so well. it was magnificent to fall asleep in his arms, and you couldn’t help yourself from wondering when it would happen again.

-

you woke up tangled with him, fingers stroking your cheek, smoothing your hair out of your eyes.

lando was always so warm, but now his tanned skin radiated sunshine, a beacon of light in your bed. you smiled, eyes still shut, shielding yourself from the streaks of light casting over the room from the crack in the curtains.

“what time is it?” you croaked, bringing a hand to your eyes to rub away the sleep.

“gone eleven. i need to go, baby.”

baby.

you hadn’t gotten a chance to take my notice of the things he’d called you last night, too caught up in the way he played with your body. now that you heard it, in the calm after the storm, it made you swoon.

“already?” you tried to hide your disappointment, not quite ready to detangle yourself from him.

“need to get to the track. i think i’m already late. i just wanted to be here when you woke up.” lando sounded so soft, not as groggy as you, and you wondered how long he’d been awake, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest.

“thank you.” you knew that you’d have spiralled waking up alone, and you were immensely grateful that he’d stayed.

lando began to get up, wincing at your whine of protest.

“i’m sorry. i’ll have someone pick you up later, okay? i’ll see you soon, i promise.”

you knew he had to work hard today, knew how much analysis he needed to do before the race. he was starting further back than anyone would have liked, and he had something to prove as well, oscar starting too close to the front for lando’s liking. there were places to make up and hard work to be done to get back to the front.

“don’t apologise. i hope it goes smoothly today.” you smiled at him, watching him collect his long forgotten clothes. you were entranced by the way his body moved, the lines and shapes that tensed and rippled as he dressed himself.

“i’ll message you.” he promised, creeping back over to the bed. you weren’t sure what to expect, but the soft kiss to your lips, almost apprehensive on his part, could have killed you off, your heart pounding.

your grinned like a fool when the door shut behind him.

-

the shower was burning hot, loosening up your muscles. you cleaned yourself slowly, examining your body, the same one that you’d given to lando. he’d taken you apart, piece by piece, and put you back together, the traces of him that he’d left behind delectably apparent.

you followed the trail of marks he’d left, starting with the love bite below your right breast that you couldn’t even remember him leaving, making your way to the litter of fingerprints that were tattooed into your hips. your fingertips ghosted over your swollen lips, the kiss that he’d left at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, reminiscing the evening. you seemed to ache everywhere, the dull pain setting into your bones so nicely.

you prayed it would happen again. you felt like it would, everything between you had changed now, changed from any possible return to the norm. you wanted it to change, you couldn’t fathom the idea of staying friends when the lines had blurred like this, when he’d kissed you so deeply, touched you so intimately.

the shower was much needed, refreshing your body that was now tainted by him in the best way. you tried to keep a clear head while you got yourself ready, taking your time to make yourself presentable to the paddock. the time of your departure was looming, the pink and white sunset outside your window indicating that the race was only a few hours away. the air had cooled slightly, and you knew you needed to make your way to the lobby.

your phone dinged in your hand as you were packing your essentials into your bag. you glanced down at the device, unruly smile gracing your face.

see you soon, the text read, an orange love heart punctuating the short but sweet text. it was safe to say that the butterflies in your belly were well and truly alive.

-

the screen beeped as you scanned your paddock pass, and you slipped through the gate, making your way into the paddock. it was beautiful in qatar, they’d outdone themselves with this structure, the glass ceilings and jungle of greenery an expression of wealth and elegance.

you made a beeline for the mclaren garage, greeting lando’s pr officer who smiled warmly at you. you recognised oscar smirking as you appeared in the garage, and as you got closer you realised why.

“nice to see you. looking for lando?” his monotonous voice held an amused twang.

“hey oscar, great job last night!” you said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “yeah, is he around here somewhere?”

“yeah he’s just doing press i think. extra spring in his step today.” oscar gave you a knowing look, one that made you blush.

“what do you know?” you deadpanned, fighting back laughter.

“i know that this was a long time coming.” he smiled, and then he was gone, lost to the bustle of the garage.

you stood there, probably in the way, lost in thought about what oscar had just said. he was right, this was a long time coming.

you jumped a bit when a hand landed on your waist, relaxing instantly into lando’s body when he pressed himself against you, head on your shoulder.

“i’m so glad you’re here.” he whispered, pressing a secret kiss under your ear, and then he, too, was gone, before you could even react.

your nerves were shot, ushered to the back of the garage where you found a headset. you chewed your nails, anxious about it all. the race, the changes that you were surely coming. you wanted it, wanted everything from him that he’d give you, willing to commit to all of it, to him. the distance, borrowed time, chaos of his world. last night had changed everything and you couldn’t have asked for more.

eventually the lights went out and the fight was underway. you found your hands clasped together, sweating in the dry heat and the anxiety. you clapped every time he made an overtake, storming through the field. when he made it into p3, picking the pace up on oscar, the nerves resurged and you prayed for a clean end to this race.

lando’s radio messages flooded your ears, and your leg bounced uncontrollably, your shoe slapping against the floor.

“be sensible, lando.” you muttered under your breath, resting your chin on your tightly clasped hands. he would be on the podium, but you knew it wasn’t enough for him, it never was. would you be enough for him?

eventually he agreed to hold position, thank fuck, and you could breathe again. he’d driven a beautiful recovery drive, bringing the car onto the podium, and you rushed out with the team to congratulate him. you lingered at the back of the pack behind the metal barriers, watching in quiet admiration as he jumped out of the car. he slapped oscar on the back, hugging his younger teammate before bounding towards the team. his head was darting around as if he was looking for something, but you couldn’t make it out with his helmet still on. and then the helmet came off and it became clear.

he was looking for you.

lando pulled away from a hug with a mechanic, leaning over the barrier right in front of you. you gravitated towards him, somehow moving through the swarm of team members until you were pressed against the metal too. he was beaming, eyes brighter than they had been all working weekend, and then his hands were on you. the hug he pulled you into was tight and you clung to one another for a moment, unbothered by his damp race suit, or the tickle of his sweat slicked curls.

the kiss he pressed to your cheek was far less secret than the one in the garage, so was the one he pressed to your forehead, but the one he pressed to your lips, as quick as it may have been, was the one that really took the cake. you were blushing when he pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face. you shook your head in disbelief at his boldness, unable to tame your bewildered smile.

“what are you doing for dinner, baby?” he called out to you as he walked away. the podium high had clearly set in.

nothing, you mouthed back, not quite confident enough to shout across parc ferme.

“good, we’re going on a date.” lando winked and then he was gone, pulled into the chaos of post race duties.

tears pricked your eyes when he stood on the podium, a much happier man than the one you found when you’d arrived. you couldn’t put it into words, how one night had changed everything, giving you everything you didn’t realise you wanted.

then again, lando was always good at beating expectations.

-

hehe the end

-

taglist

had to remove some tags that aren’t working! let me know if you wanna be added or removed xo

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @turningxstrange @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @yeolsbubbles @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @organasith @micks-afterglow @blueflorals @juno-1610 @lqvesoph @wilmasvensson @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @h0e-xoxo @mattxxamryli @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3

#lando norris #lando norris fic #lando norris smut #lando norris fluff #lando norris angst #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #smut #f1 smut #f1 fic #f1 driver x you #f1 fluff #f1 angst #f1 #f1 oneshot #f1 writing #f1 fics #f1 imagine #writing things #formula 1 #formula 1 smut

[avis-writeshq]

01 — better than revenge

summary: “she’s not a saint, no, she’s not what you think. she’s an actress.”  pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn warnings: fluff, angst with a happy ending, Lila is a real piece of work here, VERY CANON COMPLIANT, Spencer’s a bit of an ass :( wc: 10.4k a/n: special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading MWAH SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

“Hey kid, wheels up in thirty.” Derek nods towards you, dropping a case file on your desk. 

You raise an eyebrow, flicking open the case file to the first page. A small laugh of disbelief leaves your lips. “Ooh, Los Angeles, media capital of the world. What’s the occasion?”

“Three murders, all shot in the head executional style.” 

Your face falls into a grimace as you grab your go-bag and tuck the file under your arm, following the rest of the team to the jet. “Spence and Gideon are there already, right? Talk about timing.”

Elle can’t help but grin at your words, slinking an arm over your shoulder. “Looks like you’ll see loverboy a lot sooner than you think.”

A shriek of betrayal leaves your lips as you throw her arm off of you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Sure you don’t,” JJ all but cackles as she boards the plane, grinning the entire way. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” you grumble, dropping your things on one of the seats in the jet. “Seriously, I mean it. I know how to get away with murder.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow at you, his gaze that of a disappointed yet amused father. “Not the brightest thing to say while you’re in a room full of FBI agents.”

Elle lets out a ‘hah!’ as she sits across from you, crossing one leg over the other as she grins. “Get comfortable, buttercup, six hour flight and you’re not going anywhere.”

“Assholes.” You roll your eyes teasingly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you turn to your case files. “And it’s not like that.”

“Oh, of course not,” Elle snickers, “you’re just friends.”

You throw a pen at her and it bounces off her leg harmlessly. “I can smell the sarcasm.”

“You’ll be smelling more of it,” Derek laughs, ruffling your hair. “Sit tight, kid, we’re in for a long flight.”

Once everyone was settled and the jet was high in the air, the team began to look through the files with Garcia on speaker as usual. 

“First two victims, Wally Melman and Chloe Harris,” You recite dutifully, glancing over the grotesque crime scene images. “Seems like they were both killed in public places.”

“Chloe was killed while walking her dog on the beach in Santa Monica which she did every morning, and Wally was killed outside of a massage parlour,” JJ reiterates, sitting down with a cup of tea in her hand. 

“In Culver City,” Derek adds. 

“Which he went to every Tuesday,” Elle continues.

Derek looks to the rest of the team, a thoughtful look on his face. “Well, if he knows their schedules, maybe that means he follows his victims for a while.”

“And not a single witness. So we know this UnSub can blend in,” Hotch mutters. “Regardless of the location, he has the ability to hide in plain sight.”

“So, he’s meticulous.” Elle nods, her eyes drifting from Hotch to the case file. 

“The media is calling Natalie Ryan’s murder the biggest celebrity homicide since Sharon Tate,” JJ adds, looking through the images of the newspaper clippings that were sent to her laptop.

“Great,” You muse, although frustration is clear in your voice. “What does that mean for us?”

Hotch lets out a sigh. “That everybody will be watching.”

***

“This guy is an assassin?” Detective Kim asks with disbelief as the rest of the team reiterates their thoughts once they were in the police department. 

“When you look at the victimology, there’s no obvious links,” Morgan points out. “All the kills were clean except in the instance of the last victim, Jeremy Collins.”

You nod, tucking a strand of hair as you reference the case files. “There’s absolutely no evidence left at the crime scene. Labs have found zero DNA, no manifestation of psychosexual release, and from what we can tell there’s no detectable signature of any kind. These kills are straight forward, almost like he’s on a mission.”

“Remember, our profiles are formulated not just by what’s present at the scene but also what’s absent,” Gideon says to Detective Kim.

“From all the evidence that we’ve gathered, we believe you’re looking for a Type Four Assassin,” Elle explains.

“Type Four?” 

Spencer immediately jumps in to explain, gesticulating throughout his explanation. “Type One’s are political assassins like John Wilkes Booth. Type Two’s are egocentrics looking for simple recognition.”

“Type Three’s are psychopaths,” Hotch continues, “cold-blooded killers who leave far messier scenes. Type Four, our UnSub, suffers from a major mental disorder and is frequently delusional.”

“The closer we come to figuring out that delusion, the closer we’ll get to finding the UnSub,” Reid points out. 

Everyone is left to their own thoughts and you look over to Spencer, a soft grin on your face. “How was your father-son bonding time?”

Spencer gives you a pointed look, but a soft laugh leaves his lips. “It was… fine.”

“Fine? Out of everyone on the team, Gideon chose you to present a talk about behavioural analysis and profiling to the LAPD. You love conferences. C’mon, give me something!” You nudge his shoulder gently. 

“We uh.. we went to an art gallery the other day. We met a movie star, so that was cool…” his cheeks are dusted with a soft pink as he talks and your curiosity only increases. 

“A movie star, huh? Look at you, mingling with the high and mighty.” You poke his cheek with a laugh. “Tell me about them.”

He flushes at the contact, clearing his throat. “Um… her name is Lila Archer. Have you heard of her? She’s–”

“Reid, (L/N), we’re meeting with someone,” Derek cuts in, nodding towards the both of you.

You blink in confusion as you follow him to another room. “Suspect?”

“Someone received a note,” Derek says quickly, glancing over at the note in Elle’s hands. “On a newspaper clipping of the latest murder.”

“Lila?”

A blonde woman was sitting in the next room over, her legs crossed over as she waits. Her eyes light up in recognition and she stands up. You can’t help but be impressed as you give her a quick once over. She’s gorgeous, exactly what you expect from a famous movie star. 

“I’m Agent (L/N),” You say gently, moving from your spot next to Spencer and holding your hand out. “This is Agent Morgan and I’m assuming you already know Doctor Reid. I understand that you received a note this morning?”

She wearily shakes your hand, her blue eyes flitting between you and Reid. “Yeah.”

“We just have a few questions to ask. We know that these things are sensitive, but we promise we’ll try to make the situation as easy as possible for you.” You shoot her a kind smile, excusing her weariness for fear or anxiety. “Is that alright?”

“Sure.” She respond curtly, shooting a smile towards Spencer before walking past you.

“Uh… okay?” You let out a little laugh in confusion and Derek raises an eyebrow at you.

“What was that about?” He asks, frowning.

You shrug your shoulders, watching as Spencer leads her to an empty desk. “Trust me, I have no idea. Maybe she’s just nervous and wants to talk to a familiar face.”

Derek hums in thought. “Maybe. But usually victims like this are more willing to speak to someone of the same gender. It’s strange that she was so direct to you.”

“She’s been through a traumatic experience. If I got a newspaper clipping with a message written in blood, I probably wouldn’t be too thrilled meeting new people either,” You defend, pursing your lips. “She’s probably just… scared, right?”

He doesn’t respond, moving to follow Spencer and Lila further into the police department. A few questions were asks about her relationship with the other victims, only to find that she was in fact the connection between the other victims. Wally Melman was a producer who Lila met with a few times to discuss a role, only for him to cast Natalie Ryan instead. Chloe Harris looked an awful lot like Lila, so it was likely that the UnSub got rid of her in order to ‘ice-out’ the competition. 

“(L/N), may I talk to you for a moment?” Hotch asks quickly, waving you over. 

You blink in confusion but nod, walking over to where he stands by the desk. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“I want you to try and get as much information from Lila as possible.” He gestures to where Lila sits in one of the victim waiting rooms. “This is your area of expertise. Try and find out if there’s any distinct information that she’s given to anyone so that we can track the UnSub.”

“Got it.” You offer a smile, fixing your shirt as you agree. “I’ll update you if I get any new information.”

You make your way over to where Lila was sitting, trying to look as friendly as possible. “Hey, Lila. Are you alright? Can I get you anything?”

She glances over you for a second, looking you up and down before shaking her head. “I’m fine. Where’s Spencer?”

Your brows furrow at his words. “Doctor Reid…? He’s currently going through the timeline of events with our colleagues. In the meantime, I was hoping to ask a few questions, maybe shed some light on the entire situation.”

She raises an eyebrow before nodding. “Okay.”

“Alright…” you clear your throat, taking a seat across from her. “You mentioned that you receive a bowl of red anemones on the seventh of every month. Do you mind… telling me why you like those flowers so much?”

She shrugs dismissively, running a hand through her blonde hair. “They’re pretty. I like the colour.”

You nod slowly, writing that down in your notes. “Well that’s understandable; they’re very beautiful flowers. But they’re a little uncommon as a favourite flower, don’t you think? If you like the colour, a more common favourite flower would be poppies or roses… are you sure there isn’t another reason? The meaning behind red anemones is forsaken love and death… does that intrigue you at all?”

She scoffs, “are you trying to accuse me of something?”

“Not at all,” you say quickly, “I apologise if it comes off that way. I’m just trying to find out as much as possible about the entire situation. For all we know, those flowers could have been sent by the UnSub.”

A short silence lulls in the room as well as an awkward tension. So, you try to take things from another angle. 

“I love hydrangeas,” you say gently, a small smile on your lips. “I like the way they’re always bunched together and the colours are beautiful. Only a few people know that I like them though. My close friend and colleagues, my family… do you remember telling anyone about your favourite flower?”

She’s quiet for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know.”

Your face falls and you press a little more. “Are you sure you don’t remember? Maybe… maybe your manager, or a friend of yours?”

“I said ‘I don’t know’, okay?” She snaps, her hands balling into fists as she glares at you. “God, it’s not that hard to understand.”

You lean back in your chair, your gaze hardening. “I understand that this is difficult for you, but any information–”

“I don’t have any information!” Lila huffs, her hands placed in her lap. “Are you stupid or something?”

“The likelihood of these people being murdered because of you is incredibly high,” You say sharply, shutting your notebook. “If you’re withholding information from us it could prove detrimental to the investigation. I’m only trying to do my job. Asking you questions is part of my job.”

Her lips twitch at your words and she scowls. “I already told you I don’t remember.”

“Not remembering and not knowing are two different things, Ms Archer.” You place your card on the table. “If you remember anything, please give me a call.”

You get up from your seat, heading to the door, only to see that it was wide open with Derek and Spencer standing at the doorway. In seconds, Lila’s gaze softens and she runs out of the room, sniffling as she does. Your gaze follows her as she runs out of the police station, a look of disbelief on your features.

“What the…”

“Seriously (Y/N)?” Spencer demands, a frown on his face. 

You gape at his words. “What are you–”

He cuts you off, running after Lila. Derek raises an eyebrow in their direction before turning to you. 

“You okay, pretty girl?” Derek asks gently, patting your shoulder. 

“Honestly? I have no idea,” You confess quietly, biting your lip. “I’ve never seen him get so…”

“Upset? Angry?” he finishes, a small laugh leaving his lips. “You and me both. Look, kid, it’s not your fault. She was clearly being dismissive of your questions and she needed a reality check.”

“It’s not like I’ve never spoken that way when interrogating someone before,” You point out, brows furrowed in frustration. “Even then, Spencer has never had an issue with it. I just– I don’t understand what’s got him so worked up.”

Derek can’t help but laugh. “You’re a profiler. Isn’t it obvious?”

You pause for a moment, thinking through their interaction. “He has a crush on her, doesn’t he? He likes her. Of course he does. Brilliant, now he’s involved.”

Derek pats you on the back sympathetically. “Come on, pretty girl. We’ve got a job to do.”

***

Despite your original hesitancy, Hotch asked you personally to go with the others, meaning that you had no right to refuse. Well, you could, but that would mean throwing Elle under the bus and she would be much more helpful at the precinct than on set. So, before you could fake being sick and bail the investigation, you,  Derek, and Spencer went to check out the set of Lila’s movie, hoping to better observe her interactions with her costars and the staff. 

The inside of Lila’s small trailer is hot. Incredibly hot but relatively empty. As you look around, you gather that she’s either a minimalist or just didn’t have to spend a lot time in the trailer at all. Lila sits in front of the little group, wearing a robe to cover her costume: a cyan sequinned bikini set that she looked absolutely criminal in. Her hair has been styled in a classic blowout and you wonder how much time it took to get it to look so effortless.

“I’m not stopping my life,” she says, her voice almost stern as she steps out of the trailer and back onto the set.

You purse your lips as you glance at the paper in the plastic pocket, now labelled as ‘evidence’. Apparently it was taped up to the door of her trailer. Your eyes shift to Spencer who’s gaze doesn’t leave the door that Lila just walked out of for much longer than necessary. Neither of you have spoken since yesterday’s incident.

You hum thoughtfully, as you pull out your notebook, glancing at the notes you’ve been making. “Well, I guess the only thing we can do is talk to the people on set. Maybe they saw something. I’ll see if I can find out who has access to Lila’s trailer.”

Spencer nods in your direction. “Yeah, that’s… that’s a good idea.”

One of your eyebrows quirk up. “Okay…? Why do you sound so surprised?”

He flushes under your scrutiny, clearing his throat as the three of you begin to walk out of the trailer and towards the set. “I’m not! I– I’m not surprised. You’re good at your job.”

“You didn’t seem to think that yesterday,” You respond lightly, your tone petty and passive aggressive, gaze flickering between the cameras and lights on set. 

Derek coughs awkwardly before excusing himself and entering further into the set leaving you and Spencer alone outside by a vending machine. Spencer falters at your words and he runs a hand through his hair. The harsh Los Angeles sun beats down against your skin and you fiddle with the notebook in your hands. In turn, he fixes up his sleeves, rolling them up to his elbow, giving you a clear view of his forearms and large hands. 

“I’m sorry,” He says softly, chewing on his bottom lip. “I didn’t– I was out of line.”

“You were,” You agree, your gaze shifting between the chilled bottled drinks in the vending machine and him. “Buy me a drink and we’ll call it even.”

A boyish grin grows on his face and he nods, pulling out his wallet. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, awesome. Iced coffee?”

“You know me so well,” you respond with an equally large smile, poking his cheek. “Thank you!”

He presses a few buttons, grabbing a Cola for himself. You can’t help but laugh, giving him a pointed look. He quickly moves to defend himself, “It’s a hot day, okay? An exception.”

“An exception,” You repeat, trying to hide your smile as you crack open the lid of your drink and take a sip. “What happened to ‘Cola has 50 grams of sugar in it. That’s the equivalent of eating two full bars of milk chocolate’?”

He pouts at your words, opening his drink and you watch as a few bubbles rise to the top of the bottle. He takes a swig of his drink, sighing in content. “Shut up.”

You laugh again once you officially enter the set, nudging Spencer with your arm teasingly. He nudges you back, rolling his eyes and poking your cheek. You retaliate by doing the same, swinging your drink as you walk. 

Before you could do or say anything else, Derek taps your shoulder. “Hey, I need to talk to you about something.”

Spencer’s brows furrow. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just wanted to cross reference answers,” Derek dismisses. 

“Let me pull up my list,” You respond helpfully, grabbing your notebook. “Hey, Spence, do you mind canvassing the rest of the crew? See if anyone pays any special attention on Lila?”

He nods at your words, moving towards Lila, sipping on his drink. In the meantime, you turn towards Derek, a curious look on your face. 

“Little Miss Madonna has been glaring at you since the moment you entered the set,” Morgan says quietly, his gaze flitting to where Lila was making coffee. 

You practically snap your neck as you look up in her direction, watching as she quickly fumbles to make herself a cup of something. You turn away and you could practically feel her gaze burning against your scalp. A frown makes its way onto your face and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. You glance over to where she and Spencer were talking, blanching when you watch as she takes a swig of his Cola.

“You don’t mind, do you?” You hear her ask as she drinks and Spencer hurriedly shakes his head.

A quiet scoff leaves your lips and Derek nudges you with a look that reads ‘behave.’ You lift your hands in surrender and follow him over to where Spencer now stands by himself, Lila gone to talk to some other staff member.

“An exception, huh?” You ask Spencer, referring to his aversion to germs and sharing food. Your tone is mostly teasing despite the underlying bitterness beneath it. 

“Shut up.” He mutters quietly, cheeks hot from embarrassment of being caught.

Derek snorts, clapping his shoulder before moving on.

***

The next day, you were going over the evidence that was provided by the LAPD. Considering that it was a relatively young case, there weren’t copious amounts of evidence, meaning that there were still untied strings to go through. The entire situation proved more difficult than necessary; no one seemed to notice anything  amiss when it came to Lila and her relationships, and considering that the actress wasn’t very forthcoming with the information she knew, you were hitting dead-end after dead-end. 

Although geographical profiling was more of Spencer’s expertise than yours, you figured it wouldn’t do anyone harm by triangulating the previous three murders. He was standing beside you, his presence not unwelcome as he guides you step by step on how to plot an understandable and accurate profile. Hotch had asked him to coach you through the entire situation and explain his point of view, as well as his thought process when it came to geographical profiling. With a comfort zone now clearly expressed, you were discussing probable suspects on the phone with Garcia.

“Will Hunter… currently the town hermit, previous criminal record of armed battery and robbery,” Garcia recites, and you pull up his file.

“Mm… maybe? No, I don’t think so. His crimes don’t match the UnSub’s profile. He seems to be messier, uh, tending to use bats and knives than a clean shot to the head. And the profile suggests that the UnSub is able to blend in with the crowd.” You hum in thought, turning to Spencer.

“Hermits like Will Hunter wouldn’t be able to do that,” He explains to Garcia, putting his file into the ‘unlikely’ folder.

Garcia sighs in frustration and you can hear her furiously type away on her computer. “How about–”

“Hold that thought,” Elle says quickly, cutting Penelope off apologetically. “(Y/N), did you know Lila’s here?”

You blink in confusion, slowly shaking your head no. “She’s here? I didn’t get any calls from her.”

Elle shrugs at your words. “She looks like she’s going to burn a hole through your head.”

Your brows furrow and your gaze shifts to the blonde woman through the office window. She has her arms folded over her chest, a scowl on her face, before her cheeks burn in embarrassment of being caught. Spencer follows your gaze, his face lighting up at the sight of the actress. It’s almost as if he has selective hearing when it comes to his celebrity crush, clearly not hearing the part where Elle points out that Lila has been glaring at you the entire time.

“Can we talk outside?” You ask Elle quickly, getting up from your seat, not taking no for an answer.

Spencer opens his mouth to say something before he shuts it, watching as you drag your other co-worker out of the room. Your attention shifts between Lila and Elle, your brows furrowing. 

“What is it?” You ask, your back turned towards the actress. “Why is she here?”

“She gave me a list of people who know what her favourite flower is,” Elle says quietly.

Your ears go red at her words, your eyes practically bulging out of your head. “Excuse me?”

“She called me yesterday,” she explains, handing you the list of people. “She said that she remembers who they were and came in today to give me a list of people.”

You scoff in disbelief, throwing your hands up in the air in frustration. “I gave her my card.”

“She called and asked for me.” 

You scoff again, rolling your eyes. “Oh, so suddenly she can remember everything when she talks to you, but nothing when she talks to me? She’s not very slick.”

The door behind you opens, revealing Spencer who has been listening in the entire time. His jaw is clenched and a frown is etched upon his features as he looks at you accusingly. 

“Maybe she just didn’t remember,” he points out harshly as you and Elle re-enter the room.

An incredulous look makes its way into your face. “Excuse me?”

“She didn’t remember, and now she does,” Spencer says, and from the corner of your eye you watch Elle slowly leave the room once more. The door closes with a soft click.

“That doesn’t change the fact that she went to Elle and not to me,” you respond, trying to keep your voice even and your words clear. You take a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself down.

Spencer scowls at you. “Maybe she has every right to go to Elle after you snapped at her the first time you tried to talk to her.”

“Are you– are you being serious right now?” A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you glare up at him. “Look, Reid, I’m sorry that I’m not her biggest fan and that I don’t kiss the ground she walks on, but I was doing my job. A job that I believe I am quite good at. It’s not like speaking harshly is unheard of when it comes to the retrieval of information.”

He flinches when you call him by his last name but he stands his ground. “If you were so good at your job, you wouldn’t have to speak to her that way,” he argues, and you can see the vein in his forehead begin to protrude.

His words sting and bite you and suddenly you feel your resolve snapping. “You know what?” The words are slow and deliberate as they leave your lips, and you jab a finger against his chest. “I get that you have a crush on her and that you’re finally going through puberty but that does not mean that you can ignore the job you are currently on.”

He swallows thickly and he opens his mouth to retaliate but you push your finger against his chest once more.

“I am not finished.” Your voice is low with frustration and annoyance as you scowl, glaring up at him. “I don’t care who you’re attracted to or who you want to sleep with. I don’t give a damn if that someone is victim in the investigation because it’s not my problem. I do, however, have a problem when you undermine my ability to do my job and do nothing to fix it.

The worst part is the fact that you’re my friend. You’re supposed to be supportive and helpful and– and– and understanding.” Your mouth is moving quicker than your brain can register and you’re stumbling over your words as you snap at him. “I’m supposed to be able to go to you if I’m going through something. I should be able to talk to you if someone or something is bothering me, but now I’m just afraid that you’ll call me crazy and then criticise me all over again.”

His face falls and he looks at you like a kicked puppy as the words slowly sink in. He reaches out to you, his hazel eyes searching your face but the only emotion that you’re showing is anger. You push his hand away, the frown set on your eyebrows. It’s only then when you realise that Garcia has been listening into the conversation the entire time, your heart lurching to a stop when you hear her cough on the other side of the line.

“Um… is now a bad time to say that I didn’t get any other hits for the profile?” She asks tentatively through the speaker, and you feel your face burning.

“I need air,” you announce to no one in particular, before grabbing your files and storming out of the room.

Elle catches your arm on the way out, her eyebrows knitted together in concern. “(Y/N)-“

“Hey. Sorry.” You bite your lip, loosening the grip you have on your papers. “Where’s Hotch?”

“With Derek and Gideon,” she says gently. “Lila got another note and we’re going to check on her manager. Do you want to come with?”

You exhale before nodding. “Yeah. That’d be good.”

“Okay.” She squeezes your arm gently, her eyes flitting between you and Spencer who was inside the conference room, pacing back and forth. “Is… everything alright?”

“Honestly? No.” You offer her a wry smile, shoving your files into your bag. “But it’s fine.”

She chuckles a little in disbelief, leading you to the black SUVs outside. Derek and Gideon were already there, waiting patiently for the two of you while Hotch has already left in another SUV. Apparently the ‘no profiling each other’ rule was thrown out the window as soon as they saw the state you were in, and Derek quickly makes his way over to you.

“(Y/N), are you–”

“I’m fine,” you snap, before closing your eyes tightly and letting out a deep breath. “Sorry, Morgan. I’m okay, just had an argument with Reid.”

At that, his eyebrows shoot upwards. “Since when did you call him ‘Reid’? And what do you mean you had a fight with him? He literally can’t say no to you.”

“Yeah, that was before a Miss Archer walked into the room,” you mutter bitterly. “Shot a literal arrow through his heart. She put her name to good use. I never stood a chance.”

“Hey now, don’t say that,” Elle says, climbing into the SUV. You follow closely behind and she continues. “He’s just confused right now.”

You can’t help but scoff. “I really doubt that.”

Gideon starts the car, looking at you through the rear view mirror. “You’re a profiler. What do you really think?”

The words die at your tongue and you deflate into the seat of the car. You hate to admit it, but Gideon is right. You should be able to figure out exactly what Spencer is thinking. After all, he’s your best friend– you shouldn’t have to be worrying about guessing games when it comes to him.

Hotch is the first to arrive at the manager’s office, watching as your group pull up in front of the building. Once everyone clambours out of the car, they enter the building, a sigh of relief leaving them as they enjoy the air conditioned lobby. With a flash of a badge, the receptionist is quick to tell you which floor and room number Michael was in.

“Floor 11, Room 03,” you mumble to yourself as you scribble it down in your notes.

The elevator ride is silent and you rock back and forth on your feet as the lift begins to rise. Your head is spinning with thoughts and regrets as you consider the harsh words that you spat at Spencer’s face less than an hour ago. You must not have been hiding your frustration well because Hotch finally says something. 

“Is everything alright?” He asks, much like a father would when their child is having a tantrum. It’s fitting.

You shrug. “I will be.”

“Is it to do with Reid?” 

You cough awkwardly, glancing back at the notes in your hand. “That obvious?”

Derek snorts from behind you. “Yeah, a little.”

“Everyone knows you’re in love with him,” Elle adds, a teasing lilt to her voice.

“I am– I am not in love with him!” You all but shriek, shooting her a half hearted glare and you stutter out a response. “I mean, I– uh– I like him but–“

“You are a horrible liar,” Derek cackles and you groan. 

Hotch and Gideon watch amused at the interaction, and the latter finally pipes in.

“Profiling isn’t something you can just turn off,” he explains to you, his tone gentle. He reminds you of a grandfather giving advice to their youngest grandchild, and a small smile makes its way onto your face. He continues to speak, “it’s subconscious and it becomes a habit. The only time it stops is when you either need it most, or when you don’t want to see anything.”

The elevator comes to a stop on the eleventh floor and Michael’s office wasn’t far away. The writing on the frosted glass reads ‘1103, Michael Ryer & associates, talent management’ and Elle raps on the door.

“Hello?” 

“Mr Ryer?” Gideon calls.

She knocks a few times again before opening the door entirely. “Michael–”

You’re met with Michael Ryer, dead in his arm chair and shot to the head, just like all the other victims. Despite having faced these circumstances before, you still feel sick to the stomach as you stare at Michael’s lifeless body and soulless eyes. It’s unnerving.

“Up until now every victim was a person who could be perceived as a threat to Miss Archer,” Hotch comments as they enter the room, pulling out his phone.

“Yeah, but Michael was a friend,” Elle says with a frown.

You look up from your notes. “He was a threat to the stalker.”

In less than twenty minutes, the LAPD dispatched forensics and evidence teams to the office. Lila and Spencer were on their way back to her house, deciding that it was best to deny the stalker access to her. You rifle through Michael’s belongings: his schedules, his files… everything until you come to one particular manila envelope. 

“Morgan, Elle, look at this,” you murmur, pulling the photos out of the envelope. “Pictures of Lila… nude.”

A flash of a grimace passes along Elle’s face, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears. “He was probably paying someone to keep them out of the press.”

“The name on the file says Joe Martinez,” Derek mutters, turning the envelope over.

The name must have struck a chord, because Detective Kim’s head immediately snaps around to look at you. “Paparazzo?”

You blink. “You know this guy?”

“Yeah, I deal with him a lot,” Kim responds, his face stoic. 

“We should follow that lead,” You comment, tucking the photos back in the envelope and looking over at Detective Kim and Derek. “I’m ready to go when you are?”

After an okay from Hotch, you, Derek, and Detective Kim make your way over to the Joe Martinez’s place. After knocking on the door to his place multiple times, Derek decides to open it in the way he knows best: by kicking it down. You grip your gun, holding it out in front of you as you travel through the hallways. 

“Clear!” You yell out upon pushing another door open, seeing nobody inside.

“(Y/N), you need to check this out,” comes Morgan’s call, and you follow the direction of his voice

Pinned above a small desk are picture upon pictures of Lila Archer. When she has lunch, when she’s out with her friends… it’s almost as if this person has completely documented her life. It’s a little nerve wracking, knowing that someone could follow you and take photos without anyone even realising.

“Hey is that–” you pause, pulling a piece of paper off the wall. “This is Lila’s schedule.”

Derek blinks in surprise. “I’m guessing he’s not supposed to have that?”

“No,” Detective Kim responds, and your gaze shifts to the table.

“Hey, isn’t that–” you feel your heart practically stop as you see who’s in the photos. 

“That’s Reid,” Derek mutters.

Kim shifts through the photos. “There’s a whole bunch of them,” he says, pulling out at least five or six print outs. “Is he a target now?”

Derek scoffs, throwing the photos on the table and pulling out his phone, making a beeline for the exit. “Not if I can help it.”

You and Detective Kim follow him out, making your way to the SUV. 

“Reid? Hey, it’s Morgan. Listen, you gotta watch your back over there, we just found a bunch of close-up photos of you at this guy Joseph Martinez’s studio. It looks like he could be the UnSub.”

As he speaks you feel your heart pound in your ears. Your head is dizzy with fear and you’re following after Morgan who’s walking unbelievably quickly. 

“He has a ton of photos of Lila and Nathalie plus a call sheet for Lila’s show,” Derek continues, the speed of his walk not wavering. “(Y/N) and I are on our way right now but I need you to be real careful until we get there, all right?”

You look down to shove your notes back into your bag when you hear it. The distinct vrooming of a motorcycle engine. You don’t think too much of it, only turning your head to look over your shoulder, your hand finding the handle of the car door. That’s all it takes for the motorcyclist to drive straight toward you and the others, pointing an arm out.

“Gun!” You manage to scream, just before the UnSub open fires, hitting Detective Kim. 

You dive behind the car, grimacing when your knee collided roughly against the pavement. By the time you manage to recover and grab your gun out of its holster, the UnSub is long gone. You stare as Morgan fires a couple shots before watching the motorcyclist ride off into the LA traffic,  and you turn to Detective Kim.

“You got hit. Where?” You ask, shoving your gun back into its holster.

He grunts in pain, his entire weight on the car as he groans out, “yeah, it’s fine. Just my shoulder.”

“Derek, call for help,” you order, pressing firmly at the wound with your hand to lessen the bleeding. He lets out a cry of pain and you wince. “Sorry, it’s bleeding a lot. Gunshot wound to the shoulder, no exit wound. Seeing as you’re not already dead, I don’t think it hit any major arteries, but it might have busted your collarbone. You’re lucky if that’s the extent of the damage. The shoulder contains a bunch of important and major bloodlines, as well as nerve endings.”

Derek turns to you with a wry smile. “You’re starting to sound like Reid.”

“You spend four years with him, you’ll start to learn a few things,” you respond with a humourless laugh. You continue to press against Detective Kim’s wound, murmuring an apology. 

“You should talk to him,” Derek prompts.

You scoff, “we have a detective bleeding in front of us and the thing you’re worried about is my love life?”

“Isn’t the first rule of relieving pain through distraction?” He asks. You shoot him an unimpressed look and he quickly nods his head. “Okay, sorry.”

Ten minutes later, Detective Kim is hoisted into the ambulance. You cringe as you wash his blood off your hands, once, twice, then a third time to make sure everything is gone. Your shirt has a couple of blood spots and you can’t help but frown; you liked that shirt. At least the stain isn’t too big– just a few splotches here and there. 

“It’s a good thing you held the wound,” an EMT praises, working quickly to secure Kim’s shoulder. “He shattered his collarbone, but you seemed to have managed to control the bleeding.”

If it weren’t for the circumstances, you would have shouted a clear ‘I told you so’ to both Derek and Detective Kim, but you keep your mouth shut.

Hotch, Gideon, and Elle arrive moments later, speaking to Derek about the detective’s injuries. 

“You okay?” Elle asks gently, squeezing your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, wringing your hands together. “Just a little jumpy. I’ll be fine.”

“We need to get to her house,” Gideon mutters, glancing at the group. 

Without another moment to lose, you’re clambering into an SUV, gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white. Elle climbs into the passenger seat beside you, her brows knitted together in concern. She opens her mouth to say something but shuts it, watching as you start the car and speed off into the direction of Lila’s house. 

After slamming the door shut and gripping the gun firmly in the palm of your hand, you follow Derek through the back entry of the house. You weren’t even sure if it could even be counted as a ‘house’; the place looked like it had at least five bedrooms on both floors. Derek glances at you, signalling to be quiet, then another to keep your eyes on him. A quiet splashing in the pool alerts your attention, and despite his attempts of getting you to not look, you do. And as soon as you do, you really wish you hadn’t. 

You are met with the sight of Lila Archer in her bikini-clad glory, in the pool with Doctor Spencer Walter Reid. Doctor ‘pools are incredibly unhygienic, harbouring more than 50 million different types of bacteria’ Reid. And as if it couldn’t get any worse, you watch as their lips touch again and again, his hands cupping her face and her hands arms around his neck. 

Spencer pulls away from the kiss, his breath heavy and his head spinning. This is wrong. He’s not supposed to being do this. His brain is short circuiting and it’s even worse when he considers all the germs that could be in this pool. His head spins with the names of viruses and bacteria that could be festering in the waters he was currently in, and then he remembers he has more pressing matters to attend to. Namely the girl who was literally pressing her lips to his. 

He pulls away, stammering over responses. “We can’t– we shouldn’t. I’m a federal agent and you’re–”

Lila stares at him, amused, with her hands cupping his neck. “There’s no one here.”

“I’m supposed to be protecting you,” Spencer tries again, anxiety gnawing at his stomach. This is wrong. Unprofessional. Then his mind wanders to you and the nagging voice in the back of his mind urges him to do something. 

“There are police out front,” Lila says, kissing him again before continuing, “there are coyotes out back.”

“This is completely inappropriate,” Spencer stutters out, his hands reaching for her shoulders. Her skin is cold from the summer night’s breeze, even more so considering how they’re submerged in disgusting chlorine-filled pool water. 

“This?” She presses her lips to his once more. “What’s this?”

“This isn’t–” he swallows thickly, his cheeks flared. “No, there’s this thing called transference–”

Lila pulls away, her stare drifting from his eyes to his lips as she asks, “you don’t like me?”

Spencer blanches at the question. “What?”

“You don’t like me,” Lila repeats, more sure of herself now. “It’s because of her, right?”

He frowns at the insinuation. “‘Her’? Who’s ‘her’?”

“The other person on your team,” Lila says, her words bitter. “You like her don’t you?”

His mouth goes dry and he opens and closes it like a fish out of water. “What?”

“Let me change your mind,” she whispers, bringing her lips to his for the nth time. 

Spencer barely has time to react, his hands moving to the side of her face and he imagines that she’s you. But she’s not you and you would never kiss him in the middle of the pool. You would never pull him in by his tie and cut him off when he’s speaking. He pulls away. 

“Stop. Stop, Lila, I’m sorry, I have to– I have to tell you something.” His mind is blanking. Why is it that when he needs it, his brain shuts off?

“What?” Lila asks, her lips moving to his cheek and then to his jaw. 

“I didn’t want to tell you this before because I was a bit worried.” He’s screaming at himself in his head, kicking himself because ‘why the hell did he just say that?!’ Regardless of the way he wishes he could shut his mouth and run out of the pool, he continues, “I don’t know how to say it but I can’t not tell you.”

“What is it?” She finally pulls away and Spencer lets out a breath of relief.

The relief is short lived because he starts to blab, “Your manager, Michael–”

“What?”

“Gideon went to check on him but he got there too late.” Spencer thinks he’s going to hurl, his mind running a million times an hour and screaming, ‘No you idiot! No, no, no! Out of all the things you could say–’

Lila scrambles out of the pool, clearly distraught, and he reaches out to touch her arm… only to be swatted away with her sobbing and telling him not to touch her. He figures he deserves that and follows out of the pool after her. 

“How could you– how could you not tell me?” Lila demands, her tears mixing with the pool water already on her face. 

“I was afraid you’d be upset,” Spencer says lamely, water dripping from his trousers and he just wants a towel. 

“You– you knew what you knew and… how could you not…?” She’s on the verge of hyperventilating and she looks at him before looking away. 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says quietly, not knowing what else to say.

Lila retreats into her house, shutting the glass sliding door behind her and Spencer can only watch as she throws a pillow at the wall before going up the stairs to her room. He stands there, in the cold, dripping wet from the pool water and he wipes his face with his hand. His gun sits on the table, damp, and he has the urge to scream. Before he could do something exceedingly stupid, the sound of footsteps alert him and he spins around. 

“Elle?”

“We found him in the bushes,” she says to Spencer, nodding to the guy being cuffed by Derek. 

“I told her she should cut those.” He says dismissively, wiping his gun with a towel. He looks at her and then at you. He swallows thickly, noticing the way your eyes look him up and down, the disapproval oozing in your stare. “I– uh– I fell in.”

“Yeah,” you respond, holding the camera up and a sarcastic smile blossoms on your face. “I’m sure there are plenty of photos of it.”

He sighs, “(Y/N)–”

“Hey, stop shoving me, man!” Joe snaps as Derek pushes him to walk forward.

“You’re a suspect in the murder of Wally Melman, Natalie Ryan, and Jeremy Collins.”

You watch as Joe’s face comically contorts from annoyance to confusion as he jumps to defend himself. “Murder? What? Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”

“Just shut up with the ‘whoa’. We know for a fact that you have hundreds of photographs of Lila Archer and Natalie Ryan on the walls of your studio. You have Miss Archer’s daily schedule on your desk. You’ve been stalking her.”

“Look, guy, hold up. Every paparazzi’s a celebrity stalker,” Joe says and the rest of the group turn to look at him incredulously. He continues to speak undeterred. “If you don’t stalk them, you don’t get the shot, and if you don’t get the shot, you don’t sell no pictures.���

“Yeah, well this one’s gonna cost you,” you hum, holding the camera in your hands and ripping the film out despite his yells of defiance.

Derek steps forward, pushing Joe to keep him walking. “Tell it to your lawyer.”

“Wh– I’m still being locked up?”

“That’s right, at the very least you’re trespassing.”

Elle and Derek walk Joe out of the premises, and you push the pulverised film against Spencer’s chest. He grips it in his hands, a soft ‘oof’ leaving his lips at the contact. 

“You’re welcome,” you mutter, albeit a little bitterly, as you turn to follow the rest of your team out.

“(Y/N), listen, it didn’t mean anything,” he says softly, squeezing the film in his fist tightly while the other hand reaches out to you. 

You roll your eyes, opening up the sliding door. “I told you, Reid, I don’t care who you sleep with.”

He splutters a little, pushing his hair away from his face. “We didn’t– I didn’t– we didn’t sleep together, you know that.”

“Even more reason why I shouldn’t care.”

His hand grips onto your shoulder, turning you around so that you’re facing him. “But you do. ‘Shouldn’t’? You care. You clearly obviously care, (Y/N).”

“I don’t,” you deny, pushing his hand away. “Reid–”

“Stop calling me that.”

“–it doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I’m leaving.”

He grabs onto your arm, stopping your retreat. “Why are you being like this?”

“I am not ‘being like’ anything!”

“(Y/N).”

“Doctor, this is highly unprofessional.”

He has to stop the frustrated groan that was moments away from leaving his lips as he stares at you. His eyes ghost over your frame, stopping directly at the dark red splotches on your shirt.

“What happened?” He demands, taking a step closer. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“Who’s blood is that?”

“Detective Kim’s.”

“What– were you shot at?” 

His hands fly to your face, trembling and cold, and you would have thought it was romantic if he didn’t do the exact same thing less than twenty minutes ago with another girl. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you dismiss quietly. 

“Don’t say that.”

“God, you act as if we’re dating or something!” You snap, pulling away from him. 

He stops short, his cheeks and ears reddening at your words. His mind goes blank and suddenly he feels very warm at the idea. Dating you? Every moment he had with Lila in that pool is nothing compared to the idea of dating you.

He watches as you roll your eyes before tugging your arm out of his grip. He wants to cry out again, to say something, but his head just seems to repeat the words ‘we’re dating’ over and over again. 

“Just forget it, Reid.” You look to the house and your gaze grows steely once more. “Your girlfriend is calling.”

*** 

“I want to try and talk to some of Lila’s close friends,” you say to the others after getting off the phone with Garcia. “According to Penelope, there’s a girl named Maggie Lowe on the list that Lila gave us and they’ve known each other since college. Apparently, they spent a lot of time together and Lila helped her get a job.”

“I’ll go with you,” Elle says instantly, climbing into the car. “Why Maggie?”

You start the ignition, backing out of the driveway and onto the main road, following the GPS directions. “They spend almost all of their time together. I mean, she must have noticed something off, you know?”

Elle nods slowly in understanding. “She knows about the red anemones, right?”

“Yeah. And she was the one who found the note taped to the door.” You pause, thinking through the evidence again. “Her apartment is right in the middle of the comfort zone.”

“You think she could be the UnSub?”

“It all seems too convenient. But then again, we didn’t profile the stalker as a woman. There have got to be some inaccuracies or things we overlooked because of the gender,” you murmur, stopping at a red light. “Call Garcia for me.”

The phone rings once before Penelope’s unmistakable voice chimes through. “Speak my pretties, and you shall be heard!”

“Hey, Pen, can you check what vehicle is registered under Maggie Lowe’s name?” You ask into the speaker, parking in front of the apartment.

“Checking, checking… aha! It’s a Honda Motorcycle, she just got it serviced six and a half months ago.”

“That’s the vehicle that the UnSub was driving when they shot at us,” you mumble in realisation. “Call the others, the UnSub might be Maggie Lowe. We’re checking the apartment now.”

“Gideon and Derek are at the art gallery to talk to Parker Dunley,” Elle points out. “I’ll let them know we’re at her apartment.”

There’s a typing on the other side of the line and Penelope chimes in once more. “Bad news, my loves. The cameras report Lowe’s motorcycle leaving the apartment complex half an hour ago.”

“Garcia, call Reid and tell him what we know. Elle and I are going into the apartment. We might find evidence or clues on who the next victim might be.” 

With that, you hang up, getting out of the car and running up the stairs with Elle hot on your heels. 

“Maggie Lowe?” You call through the door, knocking once then twice. 

You’re met with silence and you grimace, deciding to do Derek’s favourite move: kicking the door down. With a crash, the door slams open and you grip your gun a little tighter in your hand. Bathroom, clear. Kitchen and pantry, clear. Lounge, clear. Bedroom, clear– you stop short. Pictures– framed pictures– of Lila hung around the wall. A cork board with newspaper clipping and magazine cut outs were pinned meticulously to the cork backing, each one with Lila’s face and name circled with bold red marker. 

“Holy shit…” Elle whispers, holstering her gun and staring at the wall. “This is… this is beyond obsession.”

“You’re telling me,” you respond, putting on a blue glove and flipping through the cork board. “Call the others, Maggie is definitely the UnSub. Someone this obsessed must have…” you pause, filing through the desk on the other side of the room, “… a diary. Each murder was described to detail in each entry, as well as her feelings towards Lila.”

Elle grimaces as she looks over your shoulder to read the diary entries. “Grim.”

You huff out a laugh. “Yeah.”

Above her desk are images of Lila. Every single show she’s been in since Julliard, every time she was mentioned in an article, posters, newspaper clippings of the murders… the entire ordeal makes you feel sick. 

Elle sucks in a breath, staring at the desk. “She’s got Lila’s entire life documented.”

“And she’s probably already at Lila’s house,” you mutter, grabbing your phone. “We need to get over there, now.”

*** 

“The city of angels everything you thought it would be?” Derek asks amusedly, leaning against the wall of the jet as he watches you pour your third cup of coffee in the past three hours. 

It’s a couple days after Maggie Lowe was apprehended and the team were on the jet home getting some much needed rest. The aircon was put on full blast and you couldn’t be more grateful for it, enjoying the coolness on your skin in contrast to the hot Los Angeles weather. 

“I’m never coming back here,” you quip, your gaze shifting to where Spencer sits. He’s reading a book but he hasn’t turned a page for the past thirty seconds. “If I were to overthrow America, Los Angeles is the first place to go.”

Derek snorts, his eyebrows raising. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” you huff, finally looking at him. “I’m serious!”

“Sure kid. Totally believe you.”

He’s teasing, a knowing smirk on his face as he watches you chug the coffee with a grimace. Your tongue burns and you fill the cup with water and chug that as well, ignoring the amused look Derek keeps sending you. From the corner of your eye you see Spencer reading his book. At least, it would appear that he was reading to someone who didn’t know him. But you know him. He’s been staring into the pages for the past minute now and that alone was enough to let you know that he was paying more attention to your and Derek’s conversation than to the words on the page. 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you sit beside Elle who is already fast asleep. You envy her for a moment as she leans against the plane window, blissfully unaware to your mental torment. Stupid Spencer and his stupidly pretty face. From where you’re sitting you can see the back of his head and you glare at that the ridiculous mop of brown on his head. 

The rest of the plane ride is uneventful and by the time you make it back to the office it’s already late. It’s nearing one in the morning and everyone begins to head home. Derek is yawning as he leaves the office and Elle has a look that screams ‘Don’t talk to me’. Gideon is long gone and Hotch was in his office, packing up the last of his papers and files. 

Spencer is sitting at his desk, combing through the paperwork and stashing a couple pages into his satchel. He bids farewell to Derek and the others before shoving his train pass into his pocket. 

“You’re taking the train?” You ask, finally speaking to him.

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he shifts on his feet, gripping the strap of his bag. “Um, yeah. I took the train here, so...”

“Oh.” You nod, glancing at the clock. “No you’re not.”

He huffs out a laugh. “What?”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you get onto a train at one in the morning,” you say, pointing with your chin to the elevator. “You might be a man and all, but it doesn’t change the statistics.”

You know his weakness. Statistics. Facts. Spencer hates the fact that you know him so well. 

He relents, getting into the elevator with you. “I thought you were mad at me.”

He hears you scoff, pressing B1 on the elevator. “Just because I’m mad at you, doesn’t mean that I’m going to let you do something potentially dangerous.”

He hates the way your words makes his heart flutter and he continues speak. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you did,” you respond curtly, watching as the elevator doors open. “Come on, my car is that way.”

Spencer flinches at your tone. “I’m sorry.”

You laugh. “You don’t even know what you’re sorry for.”

“I–” the words die on his tongue as he wracks his brain. “I thought it was because you didn’t like Lila.”

“That’s true,” you murmur, unlocking the car. “Look, Reid–”

“Please,” he cuts you off, his voice cracking as he practically begs. “Please stop calling me that.”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker to him as you tug the car door open. “You want me to stop calling you by your name?”

Spencer’s nostrils flare as he gets in the car. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

You laugh again as you start the engine, glancing at the mirrors. “Everyone calls you Reid. It shouldn’t be any different for me.”

He huffs. “But it is different. You’re… different.”

“How?” You challenge, backing out of the parking spot and getting onto the main road. You’ve memorised the route from Quantico to Spencer’s apartment in DC– an almost one hour drive and you understand why Spencer hates driving to and from work. 

He falters before shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just please don’t call me by my last name again.”

“Spencer,” You try again, missing the visible relief in his eyes, “I’m not mad at you because of something as miniscule as a girl. You’re entitled to your own relationships outside of work.”

“I don’t under– oh.” The realisation dawns on him when he recalls all the words you threw at him at the precinct. “I wasn’t a very good friend, was I?”

“No, Spencer, you weren’t.” You don’t hesitate to say it and Spencer winces at how quickly you agree with him. “You were unfair and let your emotions get in the way of the case. You criticised me and undermined my authority and then you had the absolute nerve to act as if nothing was wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” he croaks out, the lump in his throat getting bigger. 

“It hurt, Spencer,” you say, and your voice cracks as well. “It hurt because you’re my best friend and I would have supported you through everything. You know that. And I get that friends fight, but I thought that we wouldn’t fight about something as stupid as who you hook up with.”

“I didn’t hook up with her,” Spencer says quietly, and he thinks he might cry. “I’m serious, (Y/N), I didn’t hook up with her. She kissed me–”

“It doesn’t matter.” Your gaze shifts to him for barely a second before it’s back on the road. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter who you’re attracted to. I just didn’t think it would effect our friendship.”

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says again, holding onto his bag. 

You’re quiet before continuing, “ I know you are. I know that. I’m sorry that you thought that you needed to justify your feelings to me.”

He swallows thickly, watching your face carefully. You didn’t do anything to make him feel like he had to justify himself. If anything, it was Spencer’s conscious that made him feel the need to explain himself. The guilt that he felt after kissing Lila was enough to get him to feel sick. The guilt that he felt after knowing how badly he hurt you was enough to make him want to grovel at your feet. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” He mumbles, wetting his bottom lip. “You had– have– every right to be upset.”

“I don’t want to be upset anymore,” You say as you continue to drive down the freeway. 

He’s quiet before he finally says, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

He swallows the lump in his throat and he presses the pads of his fingers into the corner of his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

You finally park in front of his apartment, leaning against the chair. “I know. I know, I’m sorry too. I said… a lot of things.”

“I deserved it,” he says, a small laugh leaving his lips as he finally looks at you. “You’re right, I wasn’t being fair.”

You hum, leaning over the console to give him an awkward hug. He presses his nose into your shoulder, breathing in your vanilla perfume. His arms wrap around your middle and he realises how much he missed this. How he missed being close to you. 

“I won’t do it again,” he promises. 

“I know.”

“I really am sorry.”

“You need to stop apologising.” Your words come out like a laugh and he realises how much he misses that sound too.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says into your shoulder. “Coffees for a month. I’ll even get you those croissants you like, even though they’re really overpriced.”

You laugh again and he smiles. 

“You apologising is already good enough,” You say, squeezing his arms. “Now go get some rest, Spence.”

His smile widens at the nickname and he finally pulls away. “Good night. Thank you for driving me home.”

You smile back. “Good night. Don’t mention it.”

The next morning, you find a steaming coffee on your desk and a freshly baked croissant in a brown paper bag. Spencer waves at you and you can’t help the goofy grin on your face as you take a bite into the croissant. 

next part →

full work

reblogs are always appreciated!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #mattew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds x reader fluff #mgg #mgg x reader #mgg x reader fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader angst #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x reader angst

[freedomfireflies]

Infinite You*

Summary: The one where Harry is in an open relationship with your best friend, and maybe you have more in common than you realized.

(Based on this request! There is no third, just Harry and Reader!)

Word Count: 8.6k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, Sir Kink

You’ve never noticed how incredibly attractive Harry Styles is.

Granted, that’s because you’ve never really allowed yourself to notice how attractive he is, but you notice today because that’s why you’re here. To notice. To study. To decide if this is worth it.

He’s not making it easy on you. Walking around the apartment with his shirt off, and his sweatpants low, and his hair wet. Reaching into the refrigerator and showcasing all the stunningly hard muscles in his back. The scattered tattoos. The chunky rings on his fingers.

You swallow.

You hadn’t planned to entertain this idea. You thought it was weird—strange in more ways than one. But you agreed to talk to him, see if it was a good fit, and now…here you are.

“So,” he calls as he straightens up and turns to face you. “What do you wanna know?”

“Uh…what do you want to tell me?” you call back. You wish you were smoother.

But he only smirks. He knows you’re nervous. And he knows you’re staring, which seems to amuse him. “Well, first things first, nothing happens that you don’t want.”

He’s kind. Considerate. Hot. It makes your stomach flip.

“Okay,” you say before swallowing thickly. “Great, I mean. That’s…that’s good.”

He walks back to the living room. He’s still amused. You’re still sweating. “If you do decide you want to, we can talk about ground rules and boundaries. Decide what you’re comfortable with. Go over when and where. Things like that.”

“Okay…okay, good.”

“Yeah. And if we don’t want to, we won’t.”

“Right.”

He takes a sip of his water. He’s hiding his smile. “Do you have any questions for me?”

You purse your lips and shake your head. “Nope.”

He’s unconvinced. Hesitating a moment before crouching down near your legs and glancing up at you as though to implore you and chastise you all with the same look. 

“Kitten,” he murmurs, and your heart just about beats out of your chest. “If we’re going to do this, I need you to be honest with me. That’s one of my rules. I need you to be vocal. Tell me exactly what you want and what you don’t.”

And you understand. You do. Consent isn’t a question. And you admire that he’s so adamant and unwavering. But that doesn’t mean you know what you want to say.

“I know,” you whisper, and his presence is different. Before, he was Harry: Rebecca’s boyfriend.

Now he’s Harry: the guy you might sleep with.

And it’s strange, and it’s new, and it doesn’t make a lot of sense. And you’re having quite the time trying to wrap your head around it.

But his presence is soothing. Calm. Doing more for your nerves than you initially realized. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers back, reaching a hand toward your knee. Long fingers squeezing it once. Comfort. “We’re just talking, yeah?”

You nod and force the first question out of your throat. “Do you…do you guys do this a lot?”

“No,” he answers coolly. He’s relaxed, and it helps. “Not with friends. Not really at all. Not unless it’s right. We don’t force it. If we find someone, we find someone.”

“Ah.” You nod again like you understand but you don’t. “And…you guys are both okay with this? Really?”

He smiles. Squeezes your knee again. “Yes. As long as you are.”

You smile back, and you realize your heart isn’t racing as much anymore. “Right. And…you don’t think this is weird? I mean…her pimping you out just to help me?”

He laughs, and you decide right then and there that you love the sound of his laugh. “No, I don’t,” he admits. “She’s not pimping me out. I offered.”

You lean back. “You offered?”

“She told me you weren’t having a good time with the guys you were meeting, and I said I could help.” He shrugs once. He’s so calm. “She liked the idea and told me she’d bring it to you.”

And you remember when she did. Remember how casually she’d said, “If you ever wanna use Harry…you’re more than welcome to.”

And you’d blinked at her because you couldn’t understand it at all. 

But she explained, “He and I have always been in an open relationship. And if you need a bit of…practice or just need someone to scratch that itch, I think he’d be really good. You could talk to him, see what you think?”

You were sure she was messing with you. You weren’t desperate and horny enough to go fucking her boyfriend, but she was more than all right with it. She assured you of that many times. Suggested you just talk to him and see how it made you feel. She gave you his number. You made a time to meet.

And now here you are, wondering if you really are about to go through with it.

“You…you want to help?” you ask him again, and he nods. 

“If you want me to.” Another squeeze to your knee. “Kitten, there’s no pressure here. It’s just a conversation. And if we decide no, then we won’t, and it’ll be all right.”

“But it’s…I mean, won’t it be like cheating?” Your hands begin to twist together on your lap. “What if you regret it? Or what if she regrets it?”

“We won’t. We agreed to this,” he says, and he’s still so calm. “This only works if she and I are honest. We know that. And we want to try new things, new people. Plus, she adores you. I do, too. But if you think it feels like cheating, then we don’t have to. We can end the conversation right now.”

A beat. He lets this settle.

“But if you want to try,” he continues softly, “then we’ll ease into it. We’ll go at a pace you’re comfortable. Yeah? This is all up to you.”

You feel your cheeks growing warm. He’s so good. “What if I’m not any good? And you’ve wasted your time? And I made this weird for no reason?”

He smiles, and his eyes are like meadows. Soft and serene. He straightens up just enough to brush his thumb along your chin and relax you. 

“There is no possible world where you aren’t good,” he murmurs, and somehow…you believe him. “But if you’re nervous, we’ll plan for that, too. We’ll communicate. I can help you find what makes you feel good.”

You walked into his apartment—into their apartment—sure you wouldn’t be doing it. Sure that there was no way you’d ever believe this to be a good idea.

But here you are, seriously considering it. Teetering on the edge of agreement, ready to fall into his arms.

“Are you sure you want to?” you ask him again. “Are you sure you don’t just feel bad for me?”

His brows pinch together, and he seems confused. But he’s still smiling. “Kitten, believe me. There is nothing I have ever wanted to do more. Sex is intimate and it’s tricky and it’s confusing. And you should only ever be with someone that makes you feel good. Feel safe. And if I can be that person for you, then I want to be. As long as you want me to be, too.”

And you do. You do. You aren’t sure if you even realized how badly until now.

You nod, and his touch lowers. “Okay,” you decide. “Okay, I want to.”

He does his best not to appear too excited, but you can see it there behind his grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You straighten your shoulders. “If…I mean, it’s just once, right? We do this, it’s over, we all go back to how it was before, and we don’t talk about it.”

Another beat. “If that’s what you want.”

“Oh, it is,” you assure him with a soft scoff. “No, I’m already gonna have a hard time looking you in the eye. And Rebecca. This is…it’s just…it’s weird.”

He drops his hand to your knee and squeezes it once more. “We don’t have to do this—”

“No, I do want to,” you assure him. “I really do, I just…it is weird. Maybe a good weird, but still weird. And I’m okay with that. I just…I want to, and we can, and then we don’t have to talk about it. Okay?”

 He nods. “Okay.”

The living room grows quiet. You aren’t sure what to do now. You aren’t sure if you’ve offended him. You don’t think he ever gets offended. He never has before. As Rebecca’s Harry.

But today he is Just Harry and Just Harry is very calm as he waits for you to continue.

You swallow again. “So…now what?”

“You tell me.” He stands, and you’re eye-level with his bare, toned stomach. 

“Uh…okay.” You shift. “Do…you wanna do it tonight?”

“Sure.”

“Do…do you wanna do it at my place?”

“Sure.”

“Do…I need to pick up…condoms?”

He smiles. “I’ve got some I’ll bring.” He nods at you. “And I’m clean, too. Got tested right after she told me.”

God, this is all so real. “Good. I did, too. Not that there was really much…chance. Since it’s been, like…three years.”

He doesn’t have a reaction to this admission. Most guys do. They think it’s weird you’ve been so long without sex. They think you’re a virgin again. They don’t want anything to do with you.

Harry has no reaction. He doesn’t seem disappointed, or relieved, or embarrassed for you, or even repulsed. 

“Good,” is all he says before running a hand through his damp curls. “What time would you like me to meet you?”

“Uh…5? No…7?” You wince. “I don’t know how long it’ll take, but…if it’s just a few minutes, then—”

“A few minutes?” Now he’s amused. “Is that all you think I can last?”

Your expression drops. “I…no. No, I just…I don’t know. Most guys tap out after a bit, so I figured—”

“Kitten,” he chuckles, and the sound goes straight to your cunt. “I plan to last as long as you’ll let me.”

Your stomach drops next. “Uh…okay. Great. Then…5?”

“Five,” he repeats, and you’re thrilled. Nervous. Thrilled. “We can talk more about what we want when we get there, yeah?”

You nod. “Sure. That’s…good. That’s good.”

He smiles, and just like that…the date is set.

4:58 comes and you’re a nervous wreck. He’s already here—you’ve just buzzed him in—and now he’s walking up your steps. And you are standing in your kitchen, pacing, tugging on your robe, and trying not to sweat. Again.

When you let him in, he’s…breathtaking. Somehow, in the few short hours since you last saw him, he got exponentially hotter. 

His hair is dry, and his curls are styled in a way that makes you want to run your hands through them. He’s wearing a shirt, but it’s oversized and soft. Easy to slip out of. His jeans are ripped but they hug his hips perfectly.

He’s…sex. He’s beautiful. He’s stunning, and you are so incredibly nervous, you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“Hi,” he smiles as he slips off his shoes and shuts your door. “Sorry I’m late.”

“No, you’re not,” you argue quickly. “You’re perfect. You’re—fuck. No, you’re…this is good.”

He laughs and lets his eyes trail down your covering. “Are you…did I interrupt something, or—”

“No. No, sorry. I, uh…I figured this would be easier,” you explain, now absentmindedly playing with the tie. “You know, I could just slip this off, and we could go.”

He hums, but you can tell he’s biting his tongue. “I see. And…is that how you’d like to proceed? You just want to rip the band-aid?”

“Um…” Shit, do you? “I don’t…know. I was kind of hoping you could tell me.”

He nods now and asks for your hand. You give it to him—rather shyly—before allowing him to lead you toward your sofa. He sits you both down and brings your attention to him.

“I will do whatever you want me to do,” he begins. “But…I’d like to know what you really want. What you fantasize about, what makes you feel good. When you’re with someone, or when you picture being with someone, what are they doing? What are you doing?”

You feel your face grow warm. You can’t believe you’re having this conversation with him, and yet…he feels so safe. You trust him. You don’t mind admitting some of your weirder preferences. After all, Rebecca has told you before about what he’s like in bed. He’s…good. Very good. And into some weirder things, too. 

And maybe now you understand why she was so happy for you to ask him.

“I…I guess I like…to be taken care of,” you admit quietly, instantly glancing down at your lap to avoid his reaction.

But just as quickly, he’s slipping a finger under your chin and bringing your eyes back to his. “Yeah, Kitten?”

Your stomach wrenches. You nod.

“Tell me more,” he encourages gently. 

You fumble with your robe again. “Uh…I don’t really like…to make decisions. A lot of times. I…I feel better if I’m being told what to do.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Okay. I can do that. What else, baby?”

Baby. You think you might die. “Um…I think I like it rough. Or…rougher. Like…spanking, and…hair pulling, and choking…and stuff.”

He’s so entertained by your timid demeanor, and he chuckles again as he squeezes your jaw. “Is that right? D’you want me to spank you, Kitten?”

You really might die. “I…yes? I think so?”

“I need you to do more than think,” he says now, a bit firmer. “When I ask, I expect a clear answer. Is that understood?”

You nod, and you don’t even realize.

“So do you want me to spank you?”

“…yes. I do.”

“Good girl.” He brushes his thumb along your lips, and your mouth parts for him. “What else? What kind of positions do you like? Do you have any particular porn you like to watch?”

You look back down at your lap, and he smirks. “I…I don’t really watch it as much as…I read it.”

“Oh?” He dips down, looking for your attention. “You like to read it, baby? What do you like to read?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Just…just smut.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

And you’re so embarrassed, yet somehow so enamored, and you tell him before you can stop yourself. “Just…sometimes it’s rough. And…taboo. And…dangerous, I guess.”

He hums again, considering this. “Like to be naughty when you’re alone, don’t you?”

And you feel like you’re on fire, burying your face in your hands with a soft groan until he immediately tugs them back down. 

“Uh-uh,” he warns, and goosebumps dance down your skin from where he’s touching you. “What did I say, hm? None of that. Come on.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I just…I’m so nervous.”

Another soft smile as he cups your cheek and scoots closer. He’s everywhere. You can smell him, you can feel him. You can practically taste him and it leaves you with this insatiable need for more.

“I know,” he says calmly. “But it’s just me, yeah? You’ve known me forever. You know I’d never want to hurt you or scare you or embarrass you. And I’d never judge you.”

“I know,” you echo. “This is just all so…real.”

He hums and seems to consider something. Then, he nods his chin at you. “I wanna try something. Would that be all right?”

You swallow. “Okay.”

“Close your eyes.”

Your lashes flutter. “What?”

“Close your eyes. Just for a minute.”

So, you do. And the living room falls eerily quiet as you wait for whatever instruction might come next. 

But it never comes. He has no instruction. He’s quiet.

And then…

He’s kissing you.

Soft lips ghost across your own. They tease and they taunt. You can’t see him, but you can feel him—can taste him. He’s kissing you, and he’s taking your mouth against his, and he’s so…he’s so.

And not being able to see him does wonders. Because you lose all inhibitions and simply take. You accept what he’s offering and you delight in doing so.

He was right.

You grow hungrier—needier. You let your hands find his shoulders and hoist yourself up onto your knees. In turn, he takes hold of your hips to keep you steady and helps bring you onto his lap. It’s like you’re one. Like you’ve rehearsed this, done it a million times. A fluid, lustful, heavy dance that ends with pants and whispers of each other’s names.

And you forget how strange this might be. You forget your hesitations and your concerns. You allow yourself to have him and to enjoy it.

And it’s perfect.

When you finally open your eyes, you feel much braver. Ready to do what he came here to do.

His cheeks are flushed. His lips are pink and slightly swollen. His pupils are dilated and he’s wearing the softest grin—like a warm sweater. 

“Please?” you whisper, and his Adam’s apple bobs.

“Where?” he asks.

“Bedroom.” It might sound like a demand, but you’ve never felt so submissive. “Please, Harry—”

He picks you up. Carries you down the hall and toward your bed. He’s been here before, seen it a hundred times when he and Rebecca would come over for movie nights or dinners. 

But it’s different now and you both know it. He treats your space with reverence. Treats you with reverence. Awe. You are…everything to him in this moment. He makes you the center of his world, the focus of his attention.

And you have to remind yourself not to fall in love with him.

He drops you onto the mattress with care but just a bit of roughness. Exactly the way you like.

He follows after you. Slots his body between your thighs and brings his lips back to yours. You kiss until you feel dizzy. It’s quick and eager and tantalizing. He moves to your neck while your fingers move for his shirt.  He nips at your throat and you fumble with the hem. And he only stops kissing you so you can slip the shirt over his head and toss it toward the floor.

You’ve seen his body before—saw it just today. But now it’s here, in your hands, in your bed, in your room. And it’s glorious. Tan, strong, firm. Covered in tattoos that make you want to drool and rippling with muscles you didn’t even know someone could have.

You want to gaze but he’s already back on your neck, sucking bruises below your ear. And then…his hand is on your thigh.

You’re tempted to freeze—to be reminded of how odd the situation—but you don’t allow yourself to succumb to the overthinking.  You enjoy the feeling of his fingers moving up toward your robe. You enjoy the way they play with the tie as if teasing you. And you enjoy the warmth of his palm as he whispers, “May I?”

You nod until you get a headache. Practically flinging the robe open for him. 

He’s gentle as he pulls it undone. Considerate as he pushes it back and reveals your naked body to him. 

And there you are. Bare before your best friend’s boyfriend and it’s…

It’s…

Not nearly as strange as it should be.

His expression softens like your nakedness hurts him. In the best way. He groans and he stares and he parts his lips as if dying to take you in his mouth.

And who are you to deny him?

You nod again, allowing him to do whatever he might like, and he’s grateful. So very grateful for you as he guides the robe away from your body, disposes of it, and dives in.

He kisses from your shoulder to your chest. From your chest to your tits. To the valley between and down your stomach. He is practiced, he is patient, he is beautiful. And he feels like heaven.

“Harry,” you nearly whimper, eyes falling shut as you settle back onto the bed.

He squeezes your hips so you know he heard you. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. Just lay still for me, Kitten, okay?”

He’s telling you what to do. You listen. 

He pulls your legs apart and scoots back. He wants to taste you. You can see that he wants nothing more. But he stops to look up at you. Wanting permission. Wanting to hear you say that he’s allowed and that you want it, too.

“Yes,” you manage to choke out. “Yes, go. It’s fine.”

He rubs his thumbs along your skin to soothe you. “Can you do something for me, baby?”

Anything, anything, anything.

“Want you to grab my hair,” he tells you. “Want you to pull it, yank it, whatever. Want you to show me what feels good. Yeah?”

“Okay,” you agree breathily. “Promise.”

He grins and it’s all teeth. He returns his kisses to you. He starts at your bent knee. He goes down your inner thigh. He travels across your hip.

And finally…finally.

He’s gentle with your clit at first. A few kisses, just to prepare you. Getting a feel for your body, letting you get a feel for his mouth. For his face between your legs.

You bring a shaky hand to his hair and card your fingers through, fulfilling your vow. His hair feels good against your palm. Like butter. You gather him in your fist and tug.

His lashes flutter in response. He hums again—louder. You can feel it against your pussy and it makes your toes curl.

His hands keep you from bucking up, but he seems pleased when you try. He likes that you feel good. He likes that he gets to use his power to keep you still. 

“Har…Harry,” you whimper, and he groans again. He likes the sound of his name in your mouth. “Shit—”

He slaps your hip. A warning. “Good girls don’t use bad language. Do they?”

No. You shake your head. Your heart is racing. “Please…”

He’s happy again. Moving his mouth down your cunt until he can taste the beginnings of your arousal beginning to gather. “You’re so good for me, Kitten. You know that? Being so well behaved.”

You love his praise. You always have. Winning his approval means the world, and now, in this moment, it means that much more. You want to make him happy. To please him. To do what he wants. 

You yank on his curls and he seems to melt between your thighs. He moves back to your clit and sucks. Flicks you with his tongue and basks in the sound of your whiny cries. 

“There you go,” he says, and it’s more to himself. “I’ve got you.”

You’re shaking. Overcome by this feeling and by the impending release. It’s really going to happen. Harry is going to make you cum, and you never thought you’d see the day.

He knows you’re close. Knows you can’t fight it and he doesn’t want you to. He steadies his technique. Goes harder, faster. Gives you everything you’re asking for. You are puddy in his hands. Clay for him to mold. You are whatever he wants you to be in this moment and you’re more than all right with that.

He brings a finger to your hole and gently slips it inside. The fullness of such a large digit makes your brain turn to mush and you whimper again as you yank on his hair. He’s pleased.

“That’s what you needed, hm?” He sinks to the knuckle and starts to pump. “Just needed my fingers, yeah?”

“Yes…yes.” He’s so good. So very good.

“I know,” he hums, and it’s almost condescending. He feels bad that you’re so easy. “Take whatever I’ll give you, won’t you?”

You will. He knows it. You know it. If all he did was look at you, you’d feel grateful to be under the warmth of his gaze.

“Tell me, Kitten,” he continues, dragging his tongue up the length of your cunt. From his finger to your clit. “Do the boys in your books do it like this?”

You don’t want to think about your books at a time like this. Not when you have him. Real and here. In your bed. Your clit in his mouth.

“Do they?” he pushes and adds a second finger. How does he expect you to speak? “Hm? Is this what you dream about? When you fuck yourself in this bed? You dream about someone tasting you? Burying their face in your sweet pussy?”

You whimper. You writhe. You cling to his curls and try not to disappear.

“Speak,” he murmurs, and slaps your inner thigh.

You whine again and pant, “Yes.”

“Yes, Sir,” he corrects you, and lifts his head. He’s glistening in you. He’s beautiful. “M’not your friend here, Kitten. I’m the one making you cum. You will remember that.”

And you will. Because he is better than your books. He is considerate, and he is good, and he is making you cum before you can stop yourself. 

Your back arches from the bed. Your chest caves in on itself. Your legs squeeze the sides of his head and he fucking loves it.

He releases your hips so he can grab onto your thighs and press them hard to his cheeks. He wants to suffocate in you. You want to let him.

“Harry—” you gasp. He slaps your leg. “Sir…I…”

You can’t say anything else. He knows. It’s okay. He rides you through. Takes every drop on his tongue. Swallows you down. Feeds on you. Indulges in you. 

Today you are his.

And still, he’s not through. He begins again. He knows you’re sensitive and he knows it won’t be long before you give him another.

He adds a third finger and begins to thrust inside your quivering cunt. He says, “How many times do they make their girls cum?”

You glance down. “What?”

“Your books. Your fantasies. Your dirty smut that gets you off. How many times do they make the girl cum?”

You think. You can’t think. “I…I don’t know—”

“You do,” he argues and nips at your pussy. “Because I bet you wish it was more. I bet you make yourself cum for every time they do. I bet you fuck yourself while you read and pretend that it’s you.”

He’s right. You hate that he’s right. You hate that it’s so obvious.

“How many?” he repeats. “Once? Twice? Do they give up after that? Are they as good as you want them to be?”

You can’t hear him through the pounding in your ear. The second one is close. You’re shaking, trembling, dying. It’s already unraveling. You’re too far gone.

He pumps you through your second and carries right on to your third. “Shame you never called me. Shame you never read your little books and thought to ask me for help. Should’ve known I would have.”

Your cheeks are growing warm again. You’re embarrassed and sensitive to the touch. 

He notices. “You thought about it, didn’t you?” he realizes aloud, and he sounds almost proud. “Thought about me when you touched yourself.”

You shake your head but it’s a lie. You both know it.

“You did,” he repeats, and he’s smirking. “Did you picture me when you read? Picture me in your dirty little taboo fantasy? D’you picture my cock? My hands? My mouth?”

You did, and you’re embarrassed, and he loves it.

“Did I make you cum?” he whispers, and slips a fourth finger inside. “Hm? Did I have you coming all over your pretty hand? All over your sheets? Or did you use a toy, baby?”

You squirm. You try to fight him, try to fight this orgasm, try to fight what he’s making you remember. But it’s useless. 

“How many times did I make you cum?” he nearly purrs, and it’s over. It’s all over. You are powerless to him, and you embrace it. “How many times did you cum for me while you were reading your naughty little books—”

You don’t hear the rest. You’re unraveling for the third time before he can find his answer. But that’s more than all right because this was the answer he really wanted, anyway. 

He strokes your skin as you come down. Then, he pulls his fingers out, takes them in his mouth, and swallows you. Waiting until you’ve caught your breath before he’s crawling back up your body and slipping his tongue against yours.

He kisses you, and you taste everything. Him, you, and five years of memories shared between you. Rebecca slowly starts to dissolve from the picture and now it’s just the two of you. In every flashback, every moment. Maybe it was always him and you.

You reach for his belt. You want his jeans off. You want your hands around his cock. You want to hold him, ride him, gag on him. You’re impatient and he’s amused and it feels as though time is moving far too slow.

“Easy,” he tuts, but he kisses you again. “M’gonna give you my cock, Kitten, just have to wait for me, yeah?”

You pout. He kisses it away. “Can’t wait, Sir. Need it.”

Sir makes him grin, and this seems to work in your favor. “You can’t, hm? Well, what if I wanna take my time?”

You groan and you whimper and you fling your arms around his neck to pull him close and plead with him. “Please,” you whisper, kissing along his neck, and his skin tastes divine. “Please fuck me, Sir. I need it. Might die.”

He chuckles, and the vibration of his chest makes your insides twitch. “I bet. S’been a long time, hasn’t it?”

Three years, and while you know sex isn’t necessary to survive…now that you’re here…you feel rather insatiable. 

Because it’s not the fact that you haven’t had sex in three years that’s making you anxious. It’s the fact that you haven’t had sex with him. And you need to. You need him to scratch this itch that only he can scratch. And you need him to do it now.

“Are you gonna let me take care of you?” he asks, and you want to cry. He’s so good. “Can I do that, Kitten? Can I make it better?”

You nod, and you’re dizzy, and you’re dripping onto your sheets below. You feel so empty without him.

He laughs again and it’s heaven. “Good girl. Take off my jeans, okay?”

You do, and you do it well. They’re off in under thirty-five seconds and on the floor, next to your robe and his shirt. Your clothes look good together. It makes you smile.

He nods at his boxers, the only thing left between you. “Take ‘em off.”

You do. You roll the dark band down his gorgeously strong thighs and help him slip out of them before they’re joining the collection on the ground.

He’s got a large tattoo on his left leg that’s just begging to be licked and muscles in his calves that make your pussy clench.  

You stare at him and you probably drool and he’s laughing again.

He slips his finger under your chin once more and lifts your head until your eyes meet. He is a meadow. Gentle and calm. “Do you want a taste, Kitten?”

More nodding, more drooling. He kneels and you scoot closer, grasping onto his thighs to brace yourself as you stare at him.

He’s hard, and big, and leaking in a way that makes your throat go dry. He is better than you wanted him to be and he is better than the books and he is real. 

You dip down and you allow your lips to graze his tip. He smiles and puts a hand on your head to guide you. Comfort you. Control you in just the right way.

You extend your tongue and drag it up the side. He tastes good. More so than you expected. It’s like candy, and you lick and lick until you needily begin to take him into your mouth. 

He squeezes your scalp lightly. Easy. You’re going fast and he wants to go slow. He wants you to enjoy yourself. 

But you are. How could you not? He’s heavy in your mouth and you never thought you’d enjoy sucking someone’s cock as much as you do his. Maybe it’s true what they say. Maybe you really do get pleasure out of pleasing him.

You take more. As much as you can bear. Your eyes flutter shut. You’re tempted to gag but you don’t, not yet. You don’t want him to think you can’t take him. You want to be good. As good as he was for you.

He slips his fingers into your roots and tugs. “Baby,” he warns softly. “Don’t push yourself—”

You keep going. You groan around him and he curses at the feel of your throat. You go further. Until your eyes are screwing shut and your breathing becomes labored.

Suddenly, he’s yanking on you. Pulling you off as a string of saliva drips from his cock to your mouth.

“Hey,” he grunts, and he looks at you. You want to shrink. “I told you to go easy, yeah? You have nothing to prove to me, Kitten. This is not about doing something you think I need you to do. I want you to do it because you want to do it. It’s not a competition. I’m not gonna be disappointed if you can’t take much of me.”

You frown. “I know, but…I want to. I really do want to. I just…you’re big, Ha—Sir. You’re so big.”

You’re feeding his ego (but you’re also telling the truth) and he exhales a soft laugh. “I know,” he repeats. “But forcing yourself will only hurt. Besides, this is about you, yeah?”

Your expression falls. Another reminder that he’s only here as a service. To get you off and then get out. He won’t be spending the night, and he won’t be calling you tomorrow to set up the next time, and he won’t be promising that he’ll train your throat open to take his cock. 

You nod. You concede. Bring your hands to your lap and pull yourself away.

Now he’s frowning. He smooths his palm down the back of your neck and tugs you to him. He looks at you and he’s looking for what you’re really thinking. Something shifted. He wants to know what. Why.

“This is about you,” he says again, and you wish he’d stop. “Believe me, I’d be happy to have you gag on me, but that’s not what we’re doing tonight, okay? Not tonight.”

And it’s not a promise of next time. You know that. But not tonight implies something more open-ended than before and you finally smile. “Okay.”

He sweeps his thumb along your throat. “Can I fuck you now, baby?”

“God, yes,” you breathe, and nearly drag him on top of you. 

He smiles again and you feel whole. The dance continues. He kisses you and situates himself between your thighs, and you are so very ready. 

“Shit, wait, hold on,” he says, and you almost burst into tears. “I need to grab the condoms—”

“No,” you nearly shout, and his brow raises. “No, I…we’re both clean. And I’m on the pill. Why…why don’t we just…not? Maybe?”

It’s selfish, you know it’s selfish. But you want to feel him. You don’t want something keeping him from you and you want to know that he actually fucked you. 

You like condoms. You prefer condoms. But not now. Not with him. You have to know he really did this. You need to feel him in your pussy for years to come.

He looks at you. “You’re on the pill?” He doesn’t answer your question.

“Yeah. I take ‘em for cramps and regulation and stuff.” You wince. Talking about cramps is not sexy. “The point is…if you want…I mean, I want, but if you want…?”

He thinks about this. Brushes your hip with his thumb. Thinks. “I don’t mind, but only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” you exhale. “God, I’m sure. Honestly. As long as you are. And…and Rebecca. I don’t know if you guys have a rule…or anything.”

You wince again. You don’t want to bring up Rebecca, either. But you know you have to. You know she’s your friend, and she’s Harry’s partner, and this has to be asked. It has to be considered.

So, he considers it. “Most of the time we have a rule, yeah. For safety and peace of mind. But that’s when it’s other people. She doesn’t mind if we do or don’t. She said it’s up to me.”

“You talked about it?” 

“Yeah.” Of course they did. Honesty. “When I was grabbing the condoms. I asked if you had a preference, she said she didn’t think so. Said we could just go without if we wanted. As long as I got tested after.”

“Right.” You almost feel weird knowing they talked about you. But what did you expect? “And…do you want to?”

Another beat. He looks at you. Really looks at you. “I want to fuck you. I want to feel you. I think we’ve taken all of the right steps and I feel comfortable going without. As long as you do.”

“I do,” you assure him again. “I really, really do.”

He smiles. “Good.” He drags his tip down your cunt, gathering your arousal. “Then I wanna start like this. Wanna see your face. Make sure you’re doing all right.”

You nod quickly.

 “And I wanna see you when you cum on my cock for the first time,” he whispers huskily before steadying himself above you.

You are giddy. He is everything. He is so much better than your books and he is lining himself up with you and he is big, and ready, and beautiful.

He kisses you again. “Deep breath, okay? Try to relax. Don’t want to hurt you.”

You do breathe. You do try to relax. You let your mind wander to a world where he does this to you every night. Where your pussy happily accepts him and knows him and molds to him.

He pushes in. You reel.

Still, he is good, and gentle, and kind. He kisses you more. He distracts you, even though he doesn’t need to. You pretend that he’s imagining a world with you, too.

He sinks in further, and life is perfect. Your nails claw at his back—at the many muscles that tense beneath your touch. Your leg hooks to his hip, your heel against his ass. You draw him in. You plead with him for more. You say his name, you moan, you shiver.

“Shh,” he coos, and he wraps his hand around your throat. He remembers what you like, and he squeezes gently. “Let me do this, don’t rush me.”

You whimper, “Sir,” and he kisses you again. You are addicted to his tongue.

He finally buries himself all the way, hips against yours, chests flush together. He’s heavy and he’s warm. Like a weighted blanket and you feel so safe. You’ve missed the feeling of another body on top of you. Of that connection and intimacy. That protection. It’s even better when it’s him.

You cling to him and ask every star in the sky not to take him from you. “Please move, Sir.”

He draws back. He begins to fuck you, and he’s so big. He stretches you, claims you. Owns you, truly. He sucks your tit into his mouth and you melt between his lips. He nips, and pulls, and groans. And you hate everyone he’s ever been with before. You wish you were his only. 

He starts going faster. But not too fast. He wants to make you anxious for it. He wants you to beg. Wants you to unravel yourself from need alone. And you’re so close to doing just that.

“Good girl,” he praises, and your heart cracks down the middle. “Taking me so well. Is this what you needed, Kitten? Needed someone to fuck this tight little pussy until you felt better?”

You nod and you whimper again. He’s fucking you back to life. What happens when he leaves?

You shake the thought free and focus on now. His body feels good against yours. His teeth are perfect on your throat. His curls are soft and his skin is tan and his cock is fucking magic.

He’s relentless. Thick. Splitting you open and drawing you in. Your tits bounce from the thrusts and your back arches from the bed and his face is delicious. 

He’s watching you closely, just like he said. He’s studying your reactions, your noises, your gasps for air and mercy. He wants to know he’s giving you what you wanted. He wants to know he’s doing it right.

And of course he is. He has to know that. He has to assume he’s better than the average man. You wonder if he learned this from Rebecca or someone else. You wonder what would happen if you were his. Could you be okay with him sleeping with other people? Could you accept that he still wants you? 

You close your eyes and scrunch your nose. You’re doing it again. You’re letting yourself imagine a world you can’t have. You aren’t being present; you aren’t enjoying what you’re being given now. 

Suddenly, his hand is back on your throat. He’s squeezing, but pointedly. Asking for your attention.

“Hey,” he murmurs, just as stern as before. You look up. “What is this? What is this face for, what’s wrong?”

You blink and then realize your expression is still bunched. You relax. “Nothing, sorry.”

“Hey.” Firm. Unrelenting. He stops thrusting and you want to die.  “Baby, you can’t do that. I told you I need communication, I need honesty. If I’m hurting you, you have to tell me—”

“No,” you insist quickly. You take hold of his shoulders and then his hips as though to get him to continue. “No, that’s not it. I promise. Don’t stop.”

He doesn’t move. “Then what was the face for? What’s wrong?”

You huff. Sigh. Squeeze his waist. “Nothing, I promise. I was just…thinking about something I shouldn’t. And I wanted to stop.”

“Stop fucking? Or stop thinking?”

“Thinking. I wanted to be here. With you.”

He relaxes now and you feel his cock twitch. “Kitten, I want you here with me, too. If you’re not, we can stop for a while—”

“No,” you groan. You feel like a child about to throw a temper tantrum. “No, I swear. I am here. I am. And if you stop, then I won’t be, and it might kill me.”

He sighs now. It’s heavy. “Nobody else exists outside of this room except you and me, yeah? Just us.”

You melt. “Yeah…”

He kisses you. “I want you here with me, baby,” he exhales, and it’s like he’s breathing the sentiment into your lungs. “I need you here. With me. On my cock. Don’t want you to think about anybody else. It’s just us.”

You nod again, and you claw at him, and you beg him to keep going. He does. It fixes everything.

When your fourth hits you, you see the stars. Even if they aren’t in your favor, they are bright, and warm, and they carry you through to the other side.

And once you’ve caught your breath, Harry pulls out. 

You’re tempted to wither, to cry, to beg him to stay but he’s already flipping you around onto your stomach and driving himself back in.

Now you understand. And you’re ecstatic. He’s rough. Pulling your hair, forcing your cheek to the bed, slapping his palm against your ass.

“Give me another,” he demands, and he sounds angry, but he’s not. He’s ready. “Just like you would for your little book boys. You fucking cum for me, right now. Let me feel you. Let me cum with you.”

He slams into you and it’s so full. You could cum for a lifetime and still never feel finished.

He spanks you again. Grips your hair. Forces your nose into the duvet until it’s hard to breathe. It’s rough. Deep. And still…he’s caring for you. You know he’s making sure he isn’t pushing too far. Just enough. You love it.

“What a sweet little pussy,” he seethes, but it’s thick with lust. “Can’t believe you’ve fucking kept this from me for five years. All this time and you were right here.”

You’re glad he can’t see you now. He might be afraid of how happy that sentence makes you.

“S’all I’m gonna think about,” he says. “Tasting you. Fucking you. Feeling you. Gonna dream of this pretty pussy every goddamn night.”

You moan. You hope he does. Hope he dreams of it when he’s lying next to her. 

No. You scrunch your nose. You reject it. You ignore it.

He spanks you. Kneads your ass in his hand, then spanks you again. “Gotta promise me something, Kitten. Yeah? Gotta promise me that you’re gonna think of me, too.”

And you are. Of course you are. You always do. “Yes…yes, Sir. I promise.”

Another slap and squeeze to your scalp. “Good fucking girl. Now cum. Fucking cum for me, baby.”

You want to. But not before he does. You need to feel him, too, and you hold off as best you can until you feel him twitch.

“Kitten,” he says, and you’re ready. “Want you to make me another promise, yeah? Want you to take my cum…and keep it. Keep it in your little pussy, even after I leave. Okay?”

You nod quickly. You will. Of course you will. God, how could he think you wouldn’t?

Your promise tips him over, and he cums, and he’s loud, and it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

You wish you could see him. It’s so cruel that you can’t, and you try to glance back to catch even a glimpse. You see his brows scrunch together, see his mouth drop open, see his cheeks flush from the force.

And seeing him tips you over. You cum together, a mess of moans, and pants, and nicknames. Sweaty bodies connecting as he collapses on top of you, further burying you into the mattress. And it’s so hot and you can’t breathe, but you have never felt more alive. This moment is infinite. He is infinite, and you are infinite with him.

“Shit,” he says, and you have to agree. “You’re so good, baby. So fucking good. Can’t believe you’ve kept that from me.”

It’s the second time he’s said it. You wonder if he realizes. “I didn’t do anything, this was all you.”

He snorts. “Kitten, I had nothing to do with how fucking good that was. Believe me. You…are fucking perfect. Every cute little flutter of your cunt. Your tits. Those big eyes…”

The room falls silent. You imagine he wants to turn you around and see you, but he doesn’t. He’s keeping himself inside you for as long as he can. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, and the sentiment doesn’t feel strong enough. “For…for doing that, I mean. And…for not making it weird. I know I was probably kind of…rusty and nervous, and I just—”

“No.” He shakes his head. Squeezes your hip. Kisses your bare back until you fall silent. “You are perfect. Okay? That was perfect. I really, really enjoyed it.”

You smile. You are happy and miserable all in the same moment. “Me, too.”

You want to ask if you’ll be doing it again. You want to pretend that he’s not gonna leave you and go back to her. That he’s not Rebecca’s Harry or Just Harry.

That he’s Your Harry.

But all good things must come to an end. He will leave. And you will let him.

���Now what?” you dare to ask.

A small beat. “We don’t have to talk about it after I leave…if that’s what you still want,” he says next, and your chest feels heavy. “I just want to make sure you’re all right before I do. That you pee, and you drink your water, and you take it easy. I know I went kind of hard on you.”

“But it was good,” you tell him, and you grin at the memory. It feels so far away. “Really good. Everything I wanted.”

“Yeah?” He kisses you more. The space between your shoulders. Your neck. Your cheek. “Any notes?”

You laugh. “No notes. God, no. You’re like a sex god.”

“Better than your books?”

“So much fucking better.”

“Hm.” More kisses. “Don’t tell me that. I’ll get a big head.”

“You already have one,” you attempt to tease, and he laughs, too. “Both of them.”

The room fills with giggles until you both fall silent again. He doesn’t leave. You don’t make him.

“Do we…tell Rebecca?” you ask. “Like…the details and things?”

“Only if you want to.” He stops kissing you now but rests his cheek on your head. “She doesn’t expect us to, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

You nod. You like Rebecca. You can’t imagine you’d be so relaxed if you were in her position. “And this…works for you guys? The open relationship?”

“Yeah.” He smiles. Nods. “We have a lot of love and trust and I think that’s why. It’s what we both want.”

You resist the urge to scrunch your nose. You’re happy for him. For both of them, you are. This really is what’s best and you’re so glad they have each other. And you’re glad that they’re both willing to explore it with you and still keep you in their lives.

“Is it just sex?” you ask next, despite your better judgment. “Or…like, what if you wanted to date someone else? Or is that not what it means?”

“We can date around if we want. We haven’t in a while, just because we can’t seem to find people we like enough to keep around.” He smirks. “But we could. It’s not as rigid as it sounds.”

He finally pulls out and you want to cry. You feel cold and empty.

However, he’s quick to scoop the dribbling cum from your pussy and push it back in. Just for a little while longer. 

You close your legs and smile. “I don’t think it’s rigid as long as it’s what you want.”

He smiles back. “It is.”

You shift now. You feel nervous again. “So…then, I guess by the rules and things…it wouldn’t be…totally weird to see if you wanted to do it again? Not that we have to—we could, I mean. Or not, if you don’t want. Or maybe I should ask her. Or you can. Or…actually, it’s dumb, never mind. I don’t know why I thought—”

He grabs your chin. Presses his thumb to your lips to quiet you. “Kitten, breathe.”

You do.

“We can do it again,” he says, and you have never felt so happy. You feel as though you were just set on fire. Your skin is tingling, and your insides are twisting, and your pussy is clenching. “We don’t have to ask permission. We’re adults. We can do whatever we’d like. That’s the point of an open relationship.”

You nod. You want to kiss him. “Okay. Are you…I mean, do you want to? We don’t have to just because I do, honestly. I just…we both liked it, so I thought maybe we’d want to. Unless it wasn’t really that good for you, which I would understand—”

“Kitten.”

You stop. You breathe.

He chuckles. “I would love to fuck you again. And again. And again. As many times as you’ll let me.”

You’re practically shaking. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He grins. He can tell how giddy you are. “What are you doing next Friday?”

“I am doing whatever you want me to.”

The expression that splits his face is like sunshine. He loves this answer, and he loves your pussy, and perhaps one day…he’ll love you, too.

“Good fucking girl,” he breathes, and surges forward to kiss you.

And maybe…this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Next Part:

~ Insatiable You*

~ Full Infinite You Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs

#harry #harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan #harry styles smut #harry styles request #harry styles concept #smut #concept #friend!harry

[wrongplacerighttime]

fratboy!harry x you

hi hi! its been awhile. finally finished this after 3834273 weeks it feels like. its also my first reader fic so....hope you like it HAHAHA.... :)

the one where your friends introduce you to Harry, you go on a trip and things get interesting. featuring a lake house, hiking, and a cherry sucker.

wc: 5.8k

tw: smut 18+, spanking, choking, light dom!harry dynamic, brief clit slapping, brief face slapping, lil bit of cum play, size kink, breeding kink if you squint. idk if i missed anything but as always let me know if i did :)

cherry sucker

Finding solace in the chirping birds and chattering on the street that could be heard from your open window, you stood in front of your closet, clad in a little white tank and baby blue undies, preparing your bag for a camping trip you and your friends had planned. Spring semester has concluded and this trip will commemorate the start of summer vacation. You daydream about the sun glistening off the ripples of the lake water, the smell of the grass wafting in the wind as the sun warms the earth while you pack your bag. 

While you were excited for summer, you wanted to get a head start on your reading for fall semester. You had a textbook or two in the bottom of your bag—poli sci books, because you had heard the professor was relentless with his lesson plan and you wanted to go in with no surprises. You hear the faintest footsteps down stairs, growing louder the closer they drew up the stairs. Your door swings open and Faye strides through, red hair flowing behind her at the pace she was walking. She comes up behind you, smacking your ass making you yelp. 

“Faye!” You squeal, clutching the cheek that was now turning red with your best friend's hand print. 

“I’m so envious of your ass, I just had to.” She falls backwards on your bed, arms sprawling beside her. “It’s just so tempting.” She giggles and you turn back to your closet.

“I’m so glad we actually have time to see each other now that classes are over. School’s been so busy I feel like all I’ve done is sleep and go to class.” 

“Is that why you have a fucking textbook in your bag?” Faye raises her eyebrow at your duffle and picks one up. “Russian socioeconomic structure? What even is this?” 

“It’s for Professor Sykes. I’ve heard he's brutal and I want to be prepared.” 

“You are not bringing this. You have a whole summer ahead of you to study.” Faye scoffs, pausing for a moment. “If you bring this book on this trip I’ll throw it in the lake myself.” 

“Then you’ll owe me $200. Besides, what if I get bored?” You cross your arms over your chest and Faye looks at you like you’ve grown another head. 

“There’s a lake! A lake!” She throws her hands up in the air, laughing at your determination. You bend down, opening your drawer and pulling out a skimpy yellow bikini to throw in your bag. “By the way, Josh is bringing a friend. His name’s Harry…Styles I think. Do you know him?” You shake your head. 

“Know of him, don’t know him though.” 

“Oh. Well he’s single…and kind of hot.” Faye giggles and you shake her head again.

“No thanks. I’m not really into the dating scene right now.” 

“No one said anything about dating. Just maybe for a little…fun.” This time, it’s your turn to look at Faye like she’s the one who’s grown another head. “Fine. If you don’t want to…maybe he’ll be our third.” She wiggles her eyebrows and you widen your eyes in horror at her suggestion of asking Harry to join her and her boyfriend in their sexual endeavors. 

Before you can get another thought in, heavy footsteps clamber up the stairs and it’s Josh, Harry in tow with a backpack slung over his shoulder and suddenly your room feels very small. Josh flicks his eyes to you, smiling and sitting next to Faye on your bed. 

“Pauly and Alex are on their way. We’re putting all the shit in their car and you guys are gonna ride with us.” He says, gesturing his finger between the two of you and you nod. The window open brings a warm breeze into the room, blowing your sketchbook pages until it lands on one with a drawing of a man. 

Not just any man…it was your ex. Your eyes flick to everyone and you rush over to shut it before anyone can catch it. It was an old drawing, and a hobby you hadn’t picked back up since things ended and you really didn’t feel like rehashing the breakup with Faye. Faye wasn’t the biggest fan of him, and for good reason after he cheated on you with the TA in one of his classes last semester. 

Harry stands in the doorway, chewing gum between his molars, his jaw flexing and glances around your room—the bedroom of a girl whom he’d never met, and it felt very personal…like he was getting a peak into who you were as a person. An overflowing bookshelf, handmade drawings stuck to a corkboard on the wall over the desk. Faye and Josh were talking in hushed whispers and he tilted his head to the side as he had the perfect view of your ass as you were turned around and facing your desk. He smirks at the red hand mark left there, and he could feel his cock twitching in his pants at the thoughts running through his head. He drops his gaze as you turn back around to walk towards your closet again. His eyes meet yours and you smile, a greeting showing you were just being nice, and he wonders if you always walk around half dressed in front of strangers. He clears his throat.

“Sykes next semester?” He asks, voice with a hint of an accent you weren’t expecting and you nod. 

“How’d you know?” He gestures his elbow towards your bag, the textbook on top of your clothes and your mouth forms and “O” and you nod.

“He teaches that entire fucking book every year. It’s such a snooze fest.” He pauses. “Do you like Russian literature?” You nod again, gesturing to your bookshelf filled with classics and fantasy and romance. You had a few authors on the shelf, but not as many as you would like. He brings his backpack around to his side, unzipping and reaching in. He pulls out a tattered book, crinkles in the cover and the corners turning up, all characteristics of a well loved piece and hands it to you. “Read this instead. A lot more interesting.” He smirks and your gaze drops to the words on the cover. A collection of poems by Anna Akhmatova. In the short conversation you were having you didn’t realize that you had been left alone with him. He smiles, a sly grin spreading on his lips almost like he knew he was about to be a menace. 

“By the way, blue looks good on you.” He flicks his gaze down before meeting your eyes again. You feel your cheeks burning instantly as he walks out the door laughing to himself as he stumbles his way down the stairs, leaving you to finish packing alone.

The car ride to the cabin had everyone buzzing with anticipation. Faye had called shotgun, and you and Harry shared a look when she did. He smirked and you looked away and quickly climbed into the backseat. The entire ride you were consumed with a nervous energy that you couldn’t quite place. Harry had his hand splayed out on the seat beside you and when he leaned forward to talk to Josh, the tip of his pinky barely brushed your skin and you tried not to think about it too hard for the rest of the ride over.

It took no time for you to clamber out of the car and claim your room inside for the weekend. Tossing your bag onto the floor by the door, you flopped down on the fluffy mattress holding the book Harry lent you to your chest. You were fiddling with the cover when Faye waltzed in and leaned against the foot of the bed. 

“Get up. We’re going on a hike.” She said giddy with excitement and you cocked your eyebrow at her. 

“Think I’ll pass.” 

“Not an option. Everyone else is going.” She crosses her arms and leans on the doorframe. 

“I didn’t bring shoes for a hike.” You half laugh at her with a shake of your head and she narrows her eyes. 

“You can wear a pair of mine. Let’s go.” Faye gestures and you groan, tossing the book back onto the bed with a soft thud against the duvet. You pad down the hallway after her, slumped over feigning protest like a toddler and she hands you a pair of her sneakers once you reach her room. Slipping them on, you plait your hair behind your head quickly and messily as you find your way to the foyer where everyone is gathered and waiting to leave. None of them look thrilled either as they follow Faye out the door to the path behind the house.

The June sun was high in the sky and the only reprieve you were able to get from the heat was the occasional shade of the trees along the path. You and Harry had fallen behind, the rest of the group up ahead and through heavy breaths you would sneak glances from the corner of your eye as the sun glistened off the light sheen of sweat coating his shoulders and his chest. He had popped a cherry sucker in his mouth not long ago and you watched as he moved it from one cheek to the other with his tongue and caught your mind wandering to what his tongue might feel like running along the expanse of your skin. You walk in silence, hands brushing slightly from the uneven terrain and you want to apologize for repeatedly bumping him but you don’t. 

“Does she always make you do shit like this?” He huffs from behind you, stepping over a fallen limb.

“Unfortunately.” You grumble back, trying not to roll your ankle stepping over rocks bigger than the palm of your hand. 

Even though this hike was the last thing Harry wanted to be doing, he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed your company, though little conversation had been exchanged since the moment in your room. His eyes trailed over your body, noticing the bead of sweat rolling down your chest and his tongue darts out over his lips, wanting nothing more than to trail his tongue down the same path. He watched the way your thighs flexed as you stepped over limbs and branches and he thought about them wrapped around his waist, driving into you over and over while your fingers leave marks over his torso. He pulls his shirt over his head, unable to take the heat of the afternoon any longer and he tucks it into the waistband of his shorts. He’s noticed you watching him too, stealing glances out of the corner of your eye and biting your teeth into the pillowy flesh of your bottom lip. He’s convinced that he could do anything and you’d melt into the palm of his hand, so desperate to please him and be good for him. He smirks to himself as you divert your eyes ahead, away from his now bare torso and towards the ground. 

He looks at you briefly before his eyes flick ahead, and you don’t know that he’s judging how long it would take for your friends to notice if he pulled you out of sight for a moment.  He decides it’s worth the risk, lightly grabbing your arm and pulling you behind a nearby tree. You feel the bark against your back as he cages your head between his arms and you look up at him with wide eyes. All you can hear is the pounding of your heart against your ribcage at his close proximity. 

So close you can smell the cherry on his breath, hear the faint sound as the confection clatters against his teeth. Your eyes focus on the white stick poking from between his lips and he watches you. His hands dig into the roughness of the oak and his chest pressed against yours. Suddenly the heat of the afternoon feels suffocating. He brings his own hand to his mouth, plucking the stick from between his teeth and the sticky residue touches your lips. Upon instinct, your tongue darts out to collect, catching the sweetness and savoring it for a moment. 

“Open.” His voice is low and gravelly, and for some reason you find yourself obeying his command before you can even think too hard about it. Your lips part and you stick out your tongue in anticipation, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you and he hums. “Can y’hold this for me, puppy?” 

A heat swirls in your core, and without noticing your thighs clench together and a whine escapes your throat as you nod. Harry places the sweet candy on your tongue and your lips wrap around the stick slick from his own salivation. “Good girl.” He mutters, stepping away and creating space between the two of you. You snap out of the trance you seemingly had fallen into and scurry away, catching up to your friends and leaving him laughing behind you. 

Nightfall comes before you have a chance to think about it. You had taken a quick nap after you returned from the hike and it was much needed, considering your mind was going haywire and you just needed a break from your thoughts drifting to Harry. It was quiet out here, you and Harry the only ones left sitting next to the fire Josh and Pauly had started a couple of hours ago. You were huddled up under a blanket, the air blowing off the lake making it feel colder than it actually was. Frogs were humming by the water and the crickets were chirping in the grass, the sounds of nature around you made you feel calm. You had the book Harry had loaned you resting against your thigh as you read the prose on the weathered pages. Harry had his head leaned back, fingers weaved together on his chest with his eyes closed. Occasionally you would peek over at him and he seemed tranquil. You weren’t sure why he was still here with you, but maybe he was just enjoying the fire like you were. You had purposely avoided him after the incident on the hike, the memory still causing an arousal to pool beneath the denim of your shorts and you tried like hell to push it from your mind.

“Let’s swim.” He states, pulling you from your thoughts. You raised your brow at him, a quizzical look. 

“I’ll pass.” You blow out a laugh and he turns his head towards you then. 

“Why? Faye and Josh are off somewhere, probably fucking, and Pauly and Alex are doing bong rips inside. Not really a fan of that…they're incessantly annoying when they’re high. So let’s go swim.” He says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as if it was the most sound choice of activity for this time of night.

“It’s cold, and I’m actually enjoying this book of poems you lent me.” You tell him, and because you’re not looking at him at that second you don’t see the way the corner of his mouth twitches into a half smile. 

“Anna Akhmatova is interesting. But you have all weekend to read it.” He turns to face you then, you catch the movement out of your peripheral.

“I also have all weekend to swim.” You tease him. He’s silent for a moment and you turn the page to read the next poem. He shifts in his seat. 

“Alright. I didn’t want it to have to come to this…” He says, sighing. He stands, making his way over to you. Before you can process what he’s doing, he snatches the book and throws it onto a neighboring chair. In one swift movement, he picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he walks towards the dock. You thrash and kick but it’s no use, not when he’s stronger than you’ll ever be. 

“Harry! Put me down!” You exclaim, laughing in the process and you feel his chest against your thighs. He doesn’t respond. “Okay! I surrender. I’ll swim with you. Please just don’t throw me in.” You try to reason with him and he stops, pausing his movements and taking in your words. He plants your feet on the weathered wood, and you look up at him with narrowed eyes as he smiles down at you, a crooked grin that had your knees feeling weak. “That wasn’t funny. I don’t have a swim suit on either.” 

“I guess that gives us a perfect excuse to go skinny dipping then.” He states as if there’s nothing wrong with that scenario. 

“Respectfully, no. I’ll swim in my clothes.” You counter back.

“Sweet girl, it’s nothing you or I haven’t seen before. Be mature.” He teases and you want to laugh, but you cross your arms over your chest, instinctively making yourself smaller. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of his shorts before looking back at you, noticing your hesitation and he stops. “We really don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He puts his hands on your arms, and you shake your head, looking out at the ripples on the surface lit by the moon. 

“No it’s—I’m not—it’s fine. I want to. I just haven’t really taken my clothes off in front of a guy in—since…” You pause, collecting your thoughts before looking up at him. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t know why I’m being this way. I think I’m just nervous.” 

“You don’t have to feel that way around me. Promise.” He smiles and turns back around, pushing his shorts down so you have a view of his bare ass. Your cheeks redden as you avert your gaze elsewhere, and he jumps into the water with a splash. You can’t see him, not until he pokes his head back up and shakes the water from his hair. “It feels great.” He covers his eyes with his hands. “I won’t look if you don’t want me to. Not until you’re in the water.” He says and you nod, and then realizing he can’t see you clear your throat. 

“Okay.” Your voice feels small. Hesitantly you unbutton your shorts, sliding them down along with your underwear and pulling the sweatshirt over your head leaving you bare and exposed, and you hoped and prayed that Alex and Pauly weren’t watching out the window. You drop it to the dock, your clothes and his making separate piles, taking a step towards the edge and looking down into the water. Here goes nothing, you say to yourself and leap in. And he was right, it really did feel great. It envelopes around you as you swim upwards and breach the surface, wiping your eyes and opening them. He’s there in front of you, a smile plastered on his face. 

“See, s’not so bad, right?” He asks and you shake your head again as you tread the water. And you both stay like that for a while, swimming and floating. He floats on his back and you try a little too hard to not let your gaze travel south, focusing on his face and how content he looks with his eyes closed. You’re too busy staring at the tattoos littering his torso when he says something you don’t quite catch.  

“Hm?” Your gaze flits back to his face and he’s smiling. 

“I said,"Do you like what you see?” He laughs and you can feel your cheeks redden because he caught you staring at him. 

“I’m sorry.” You apologize sheepishly and he swims over to you, closing the distance and you bite back a grin at the close proximity. 

“Don’t need to apologize, sweet girl.” He says, his voice low and he brings his hand up to thumb over your lips, parting them before his thumb runs over your cheek. “Be lying if I said I haven’t been staring at you all night.” He confesses and you think if you were nervous before, then you’re not sure what you’re feeling right now. It feels like a stampede of elephants is running through your belly as he runs the backs of his fingers across your cheek. You decide to just rip the bandaid off and go for it. Your hands find his face and you crash your lips to his, and he’s taken off guard but the next second his hands dip under the water and he pulls you into him, the warmth of your bodies melding together underneath the surface. Upon instinct, your legs wrap around his waist as you push your chest into him, causing him to tighten his grip on your waist, dimpling the skin beneath his fingertips. 

It was almost like neither of you needed to speak, once the kiss had broken you both swam fervently towards the dock. He hoists you up by your waist, quickly dressing just to go inside and get undressed again. He pulls you by your hand towards the cabin, and you say a silent prayer that your friends who were in here made their way outside. 

By the grace of some higher power, the house was empty and the air inside was cold and smelled of the aftershocks of bong rips and a half smoked joint. Harry pulled you down the hall, into his room, and shut the door behind him with a click of the lock. 

He smirks and he pushes you down into the bed, hair wet and sticking to the skin of your neck. He crawls over you after pulling your shorts off and throwing them somewhere across the room, slotting a knee between your thighs and instinctively you grind against him, gripping onto his biceps. He hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties and slides them down your thighs in one swift move, and you kick them the rest of the way off in anticipation.

“Been thinking about taking those off since I saw you prancing around your room in them this morning.” His voice drops an octave as he ghosts the tip of his nose along your cheek , tracing the outline of your jaw as you desperately move your hips seeking for any friction it would give you.  He pulls back, looking over your features and you can see his pupils blown from his own pleasure. 

“Look at you.” He coos, clicking his tongue behind his teeth. “Taking before I can even give anything to you, so selfish.” He purrs, and somehow the tone of it makes you stop, halting the movement of your hips. 

“No. Go ahead, angel. Wanna watch you get yourself off just from riding my thigh. Need it so bad, can’t even help yourself.” He coos, but his tone is condescending and you almost question him. He raises a brow, running a thumb over your cheek delicately. The harsh tone of his voice and the softness of his touch playing mind games with you. “Do it. Be a good girl.” He encourages you, and you feel like it’s a trap. 

“N-no. Want whatever you wanna give me. I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.” You pout your lower lip out and he thumbs over it, pulling it down before it bounces back into place. You like that he takes initiative, being dominant over you like it comes so easily for him. He can see the wheels in your mind turning and he cocks his head to the side. 

“What?” 

“Nothing. Just never done this before. Never had someone be…” You trail off, but he nods like he already knew what you were going to say. 

“I see. Sweet girl’s never had someone take control over her?” You shake your head. He rolls his lip between his teeth, eyes flittering around your face. “But you crave it, don’t you? Just wanna be a cock-drunk little slut? Wanna have someone filling you, telling you what to do?” His words penetrate your brain and your eyes flutter closed. “Answer me. Is that what you want?” He demands and you nod, faster than you ever have and he flashes his pretty smile at you. 

“Yes. Please.” Finding your voice, begging him. He shifts, pressing his thigh into your center and a whimper falls from your lips, the heat growing between your thighs. 

“Go.” He leans down, pressing his lips to your pulse point and trailing kisses down your collar bone. Slowly, your hips begin to move and you’re almost embarrassed at your arousal coating his skin, glistening in the soft glow of the lamp. You push the thoughts away, focusing on your pleasure as you feel his hardening length against your thigh, pressing into you. You reach down, palming him through the material before he grabs your wrist and pins it above your head. “Didn’t tell you you could touch.” He mumbles against your skin and you whine in protest. Your hips move faster now, and you’re so close. Just as you’re about to tip over the edge, he pulls away and your lungs deflate, a breath being taken away from you. He stands over you, pushing his shorts down and your eyes widen at the sight of him. You want to reach out and grab him, pump his cock with your hand but you refrain. He leans over you again, planting kisses down your chest and dipping in the valley between your tits, his nose ghosting over your skin. 

“Want you to tell me red if you wanna stop, okay? Green if you wanna keep going. Got it?” He asks and you nod. He peeks up at you through his lashes and cocks his brow. “Words, puppy. Can’t hear a nod or a shake.”

“Yes. I’m—yes. Got it” You’re breathless with your answer. He peppers small kisses over your navel, gripping your hips between his fingers as his head dips lower, kissing the insides of both thighs, trailing his tongue over your skin and purposely skipping over your weeping hole just to make you squirm under his grip. He parts you open then, collecting your arousal on his tongue and the wicked sensation makes your back arch from the bed, pushing your core closer to him and he forces you back down. 

“Uh-uh. Stay still or I’ll stop.” He mumbles, and a whine bubbles in your throat. He laps lazily st your core, circling and flattening his tongue over your clit as you try your hardest to keep your hips still. His fingers dimple your skin, digging into the muscle underneath. He knew he was gripping hard enough to leave small bruises in the shape of his fingertips, and he wanted to. Wanted you to remember his head between your thighs as you shattered just from the flick of his tongue against your sensitive bud. You’re a mess of moans and panting his name over and over. He pulls your clit between his teeth and your hips jolt upwards and he pushes you back down to the mattress. He pulls away, and your chest heaves at the loss of contact but a cry escapes your throat when he lands a light smack to your center, and the pain morphes into pleasure as tears well up in your eyes at the sting.

“Told you to stay still. Can’t follow simple directions, angel?” 

“M’s—sorry.” You gasp and he glances up at you, noticing your wet lashes and he props himself up on his elbows. 

“What's your color, sweet girl?” His tone is gentle, planting a soft kiss to the top of your thigh and peeking up at you from under his lashes.

“Green.” You answer eagerly and he smiles against your skin, crawling back up to level with your eyes. His lips find yours and you open, allowing him to push his tongue into your mouth against your own, the room around you melting away. It’s slow, sensual and full of desire. He doesn’t pull away as he lines himself up with you, the tip of his cock teasing your aching hole and you move your hips trying like hell to get him further inside. 

“So needy.” He mumbles against your lips and pulls your bottom one between his teeth, nipping gently. He pushes into you slowly, your mouth dropping open as he lays his forehead against your collarbone. “So tight, sweet girl. I don’t think m’gonna fit.” He pushes into you further, teeth marking your skin as he groans against your skin and you whine at the sting of him stretching you. 

“Fuck, Harry.” You whimper, he cages your head between his hands, holding himself up as his biceps flex and extend, the sinewy tissue underneath his skin prominent. He looks down between your bodies, where he's halfway sheathed inside your pussy and he chuckles, a breathy laugh that morphs into a sigh. 

“Pretty little pussy looks so pitiful like this. Can’t do it, puppy.” He pants, and you know somewhere in the back of your mind that he’s just playing a part, but it doesn’t stop the cry that escape from your throat as you beg him to fuck you. 

“Please, Harry. Need you. Want you so much. Can take it, promise. Please.” You look up at him with wide eyes and he admires you for a moment, taking in the pout playing on your pretty mouth that he just wants to kiss away, the tears welling in your eyes that he’ll wipe away if they fall. The need in your voice letting him know you’d do anything he asks of you in this moment. 

“Alright, I’ll give it to you. Gonna go slow til you’re all stretched out f’me.” He palms your thighs, hiking them around his waist and continues to fill you, your head lulling to the side as your eyes flutter closed and your jaw falls slack when he reaches to the hilt, balls resting against your ass as his head falls back. “So fucking good, angel. Look at me, wanna see those pretty eyes.” 

So you listen, do the best you can to force your eyes open as he starts to rock his hips into you, pulling out to the tip before filling you up again and again. He hikes your leg over his shoulder, kissing down your calf as he sets his rhythm, going deeper from this angle. His eyes never leave yours as he groans and nibbles on your skin, peppering small bites and then soothing with his tongue. He hits the right spot every time, and when your eyes finally betray you and fall closed, you feel a smack land on your cheek. Not hard, but just enough to sting and you whimper. 

“Thought you were a good girl.” He says through gritted teeth and he drives into you harder. 

“I-I am. Want to be good for you.” He grunts at your response, he pulls out and flips you over before pulling your ass up in the air so you sit on your knees with your face down in the mattress. He palms your ass, landing a smack to your cheek. He rubs over the spot gently, soothing as you push closer into his touch and he's climbing behind you, lining up and pushing back in and it feels even better from this angle. Hitting every spot just right and you swear you see stars. He reaches around you, pushing on your tummy just under your navel and wraps his other hand around your throat lightly, pulling you up. 

Your back is flush with his chest, skin sticking together from the light sheen of sweat coating both your bodies. One hand squeezing the sides of your neck and the other pressing still on your belly and he nips at your ear.

“Can feel me all the way in your tummy, can’t you? This is what you like right? Nobody’s ever had you like this have they?” He whispers and you shake your head. His hand finds yours and he brings it back to the spot just below your belly button. “Feel that? Feel me so deep in this pretty pussy. Gonna get you all full of me, fill you with my babies.” He grits and squeezes your neck a little harder, the corners of your vision darkening before he lets go and you take in a full breath, feeling high on him…and he’s all you know. His words, his hands roaming your body and his cock stretching you. 

“Harry, I’m so close.” You breathe out and he grunts, lips ghosting over your shoulder blade. 

“I know…can feel you squeezing my cock so tight angel. C’mon. Cum for me.” He encourages you and you shatter around him, pussy pulsing around him bringing him to his own release as he paints inside you. He wastes no time pulling out and you topple over from your legs feeling weak and he dips down behind you. You feel him dripping out of your hole, and his fingers spread you open. Pushing one inside with no warning, he fucks his cum back inside of you with his fingers and you hum, unable to make any other noise and he chuckles behind you.

“Like being filled like this? Look so pretty full of me, dripping out of you. Never gonna forget it.” He mutters, planting a kiss on the small of your back before standing. Finding the energy to roll over, he offers his fingers to you and you take them between your lips and taste the mix of both of you on his fingers. He curses under his breath at the sight of you, feeling his cock twitching back to life and he pulls them away to stop himself thinking about fucking you again and again.

You slept in his bed that night.

The weekend ended all too quickly, and you were half asleep in the back seat of Josh’s car with your head resting on the window, holding Harry’s book on your thighs and fiddling wither cover, something you had become accustomed to as you read the prose on the pages or when you closed in while engaging in conversation. Truthfully, you didn’t know if you’d see him in that capacity again after this weekend and didn’t know if you wanted to go back to being strangers that passed each other in the economics building on campus. 

Josh pulled up to the house you and Faye shared, and Harry follows you out of the car. He retrieves your bag from Pauly’s car for you, carrying it up to your room and putting it down on your bed. You almost felt like you were having deja vu, the scene similar to one from Thursday afternoon, except this time you weren’t half naked in front of him and he wasn’t just a stranger in your room anymore. You look around, then to the floor before meeting his eyes and he smirks as he leans against your doorframe. 

“Here.” You hand him the book but he puts his hands up, shaking his head.

“Keep it.” He says, and you almost refuse but accept it anyway. He bites the inside of his cheek, shifting his weight and shoving his hands in his pockets. He steps closer, brushing your hair behind your ear as you look up at him. “Don’t be a stranger, angel.” 

“I won’t be.”

He leaves you there, standing in the middle of the room with his book clutched to your chest with a cheesy grin plastered on your face.

And you knew it wouldn't be the last time you saw Harry Styles.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry #styles #harry fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #cherrysucker #harry styles one direction #harry styles one shots #fratboy harry #fratrry #fratboy!harry x you