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cupid-styles · 5 months

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only angel (tattoo artist/plug harry)

in which harry owns a tattoo shop, sells weed on the side, and has a big crush on y/n, a shy virgin who's very much enamored by him.

here is part one of tattoo/plug harry!!! I hope you like it :) please lmk if you'd like more from them <3

word count: 10.2k (!!!!)

content warnings: y/n's parents being unkind people, comments and discussions about weight/disordered eating, fainting (caused by a piercing), smut! (y/n's first time being fingered, dirty talk, harry being a soft dom)

masterlist | talk to me

part two

. . .

Y/N doesn't know why she's here.

If the glares from the employees of the tattoo and piercing shop are anything to go off of, they don't know why she's here either. And it all makes this whole thing even more embarrassing.

In reality, she does have a reason to be here. Mai, one of the few friends she's made in her grad school program, asked if she would drive her down to The Village for a tattoo appointment she had.

Y/N's eyes nearly bulged out of her skull when she asked, especially when she pressed for more details about this tattoo she was getting (it was a strawberry just above her hip, which Y/N didn't quite understand considering she thought tattoos were supposed to be meaningful). But, ever the pushover, Mai ended up convincing her, going as far as getting her to come inside — the one boundary she had — and wait while she got it done.

(Thankfully, her parents had some benefit charity thing going on today, so they weren't concerned with Y/N's whereabouts or where she was taking the car they bought her on a Saturday afternoon.)

The shop, called St. Mark's Place Social Club (aptly named, she supposes, considering it's located on St. Mark's Place), is nice. Unlike what she imagined tattoo parlors would look like in her brain, the spot Mai chose to get tattooed at seems sanitary and actually quite trendy.

It's not wildly crowded with customers hustling and bustling around, but there's a few artists at work at their own small stations. The walls are painted a cozy forest green, all donning frames upon frames of, what Y/N assumes are, sheets of tattoo designs. The receptionist who checked Mai in even offered them some water, which Y/N thinks was very nice.

"Are you nervous at all?" Y/N asks quietly as they sit in the rattan chairs in the waiting area. Mai's filling out some questionnaire on an iPad, but she shakes her head at her question, crossing her legs.

"No, not really," she murmurs nonchalantly, "I have a few tattoos already and I've been here before. The artist that's doing it is really cool and he's so hot."

Y/N's mouth forms around an oh as Mai quickly taps her signature into the tablet. She stands from the rickety chair and walks back over to return it to the front, her heeled boots clacking against the wood floor as she does.

Y/N has her gaze set low in her lap, eyes passing over her fresh manicure (her mother has a standing weekly appointment for her). She doesn't even notice that someone's standing over her — more so, towering over her — until the figure clears his throat, her head snapping up to address them. Assuming she's done something wrong (what it is, she isn't sure), she goes to apologize immediately, but the long haired man in front of her cuts her off.

"You have an appointment?"

Instantly, she flounders. Her mouth drops open as she stumbles over an answer: "I— um, no, I'm not— no, no appointment."

"So you're a walk-in, then?"

"N-no," she shakes her head quickly, his all-black outfit forming a blur in front of her eyes, "No, I'm not getting a tattoo."

The man laughs. He actually laughs at her, and Y/N doesn't know whether she should be embarrassed or pleased that she's made this very attractive man smile.

"You're sitting in a tattoo shop. You know that, right?" the stranger crosses his heavily tattooed arms over his chest, and Y/N's eyes fly to the swirls of black ink covering his skin. They're everywhere; all different fonts and images and numbers and... she wonders if he even knows what they all mean or how many he has.

"Yes," she finally manages out, folding her hands neatly in her lap. It's the default body language she goes to when she's nervous — when she was a teenager, her parents paid for her to go to social etiquette classes, and the instructor told her that this was a good way to show that she was in control of her actions, even if underneath her pastel pink turtleneck, her chest was covered in hives. "No, I'm not getting a tattoo. I'm here with someone getting one."

Thankfully (though Y/N would've preferred it happening about two minutes earlier), Mai walks back over to them, a grin taking over her features when she spots the man talking to her.

"Harry!" she greets excitedly, and Y/N watches as his eyes flicker over to her, flashing a tight smile in her direction.

"Ah. This is who you're here with." he — Harry, apparently — says to Y/N. She doesn't know what she's supposed to say to that (if she's supposed to say anything), but any response is once again cut off. "Hey. You ready?"

She only now notices the gum wedged between his teeth, his jaw moving in a hypnotizing way. His tone appears to be far more clipped with Mai, but Y/N is fast to chalk it up to some fluke. Maybe the other employees mentioned something to Harry and they thought she was in the wrong place or something. That would make sense, she thinks.

"Yeah, all good. I'll see you in a bit, Y/N," Mai nods, swinging her bag over her shoulder, focusing her attention to Harry, "So listen, I'm going to a show in midtown tonight, I was thinking maybe after we finish up here we can—"

"Are you coming back with us?" Harry's eyes fall back onto Y/N, and it's only then that she realizes he's talking to her again.

"Uh... am I allowed to?"

He smirks. Y/N's chest feels like it may concave in simply from the sight.

"I own this place, so yeah, you're allowed to."

Mai's tapping her foot impatiently now, her hip popped out slightly with her arms crossed over her chest. "My appointment started a few minutes ago, Harry—"

"Okay," he says curtly, turning on his heel to face her, "Go in the back and get ready then. You know where my station is."

Both Mai's and Y/N's jaws drop at that, his snappy tone clearly not one to fight back on. Surprisingly, Mai does just that, turning around and walking back to where Harry has his things set up.

"You coming, then? Y/N, right?"

The teasing smirk is still painted over his features, as if he finds humor in outwardly rejecting Mai's advances. Y/N doesn't know why her heart beats a little bit faster at that, warmth spreading from her chest to the rest of her body as he continues gazing down at her.

"Y-yeah," she answers, grabbing her purse and standing up. "If it's not too big of a deal."

"Course not. C'mon, you can follow me."

. . .

Mai's tattoo comes out beautiful.

However, Y/N can hardly focus on the artistry and apparent talent because she's far too busy staring at Harry, who also looks beautiful while he works.

It's distracting, embarrassingly so, that she barely even registers when he's finished wrapping her new tattoo in some sort of clear wrap, sending her back up to pay. Quickly, Y/N scrambles to grab her things, realizing that she's once again left alone with Harry.

"What, running away so soon?" He asks as he cleans up his work station, spinning around to face her in his chair. He has that smirk on his face again — the one that simultaneously intimidates her and makes her entire body burst into flames — and anxiety begins to eat away at her, nervous of saying the wrong thing.

"I just— you're done. So I was gonna go."

"How do you know Mai?"

It bothers her somewhat that he ignores her, but being the subject of his intense glint, she shifts her stance from foot to foot, shrugging her shoulders.

"We're in the same grad program. We've had a few classes together." she answers obediently, clutching the strap of her purse closer to her shoulder.

"Mm," he hums, tossing some paper towels in the trash, "You sure you didn't want any tattoos today?"

Y/N's face erupts into a hot flush for the thousandth time today and she instantly begins to shake her head. "No. No, thank you, I mean. My parents would kill me."

"Your parents?" Harry asks, a slightly stupefied expression on his face. "You're in grad school. Surely you don't make decisions on your appearance based off of them."

He punctuates his sentence by giving her a once-over and she feels nervous under his gaze. She's never particularly felt good about her appearance. She's always just felt... neutral. She grew up with a mother who was constantly dieting, imparting weight loss tips on her every chance she got. When Y/N hit puberty, her father made comments about how grateful he was to finally see her drop the "baby weight". Even now, her mother critiqued her, making comments about how important it was to maintain a good figure; that she'd never find someone to spend her life with if she didn't take care of her looks.

So, all in all, it was safe to say that tattoos were extremely off the table for Y/N.

"It's complicated," she finally replies vaguely. She knows that most people in their mid-20s aren't as deep under the thumb of their parents as she is, but she wasn't lying when she said this — the circumstances weren't as black and white as she wished they were.

However, there was something she'd always been curious about, and she had seen the piercing rates out in the front of the shop.

"But, um— do you guys do piercings?" she follows up before Harry has a chance to question her parents any further.

"We do," he replies slowly, "Well, yeah, I do. Why, are you thinking about getting something pierced?"

She swears his eyes quickly glance to her chest, but just as quickly as she notices it, they're focused back on her face. She clears her throat, willing herself to have an ounce of self-confidence.

"I was wondering if I could get my ears pierced."

Harry quirks an eyebrow and stands from his chair. Her heart rate speeds up tenfold when he walks over to her, his hand reaching outward.

"May I?" he asks, pausing before he makes any movements. She nods, hoping he misses the way her throat bobs in nervousness. Gently, he pushes some of her hair behind her ear, taking a look at the lobe. He does it to the other one and she wonders if he can sense that she's holding her breath.

"Hm, you really don't have them pierced," he mumbles lowly, eyes flitting back to her face. "Yeah, we could do that if you'd like. You sure daddy won't get too pissed?"

He says it with a simper though she's not entirely sure why; she thinks if he understood the dynamic between her and her parents, he'd be more concerned than teasing. Nevertheless, she shakes her head.

"Like you said," she says softly, blinking as they stare back at one another, "I shouldn't make decisions on my appearance based on what they want."

His smirk breaks into a grin, and for the first time, Y/N feels like she's doing something right.

. . .

Y/N didn't think she would be this nervous to get her first piercing, but between the gorgeous man invading her space with a needle and the fact that Mai definitely won't want to be her friend anymore, she's feeling a little tense.

Before getting situated in the chair, Y/N said that she needed to tell Mai she'd be a bit longer, but Harry waved her off and told her he'd take care of it. Apparently, that just meant peeking his head out from his work station and yelling out to Mai that Y/N was busy and wouldn't be driving her home. (Y/N thinks she heard Mai practically stomp out of the shop.)

So now, she's spending her Saturday the last way she thought she would: With her eyes squeezed shot, anxiety making her heart thump far too fast in her chest, with a long-haired tattoo artist hunched over her body. He's so close that she can smell the woody fragrance of his cologne, and she has to resist breathing it in as she inhales deeply in an effort to calm her heart rate.

"Alright, you ready?" Harry asks lowly, his tone a groveled murmur that sends tingles down her spine. She nods, feeling particularly speechless from his closeness and her nerves. "'kay, I'm gonna count to three. Take a deep breath."

Y/N imagines he looks especially gorgeous right now, but she's too scared to open her eyes and see the needle he's about to puncture her skin with. Instead, she simply nods her head again, mentally preparing herself for the countdown.

"Breathe, dove," he says calmly. Her stomach jumps at the pet name but does as he says. "Good. Okay... 1, 2, 3."

She jumps from the bite of pain that stings her earlobe, instantly wedging her bottom lip between her teeth as he shushes her.

"It's alright, that was it," he murmurs, though she can still feel him at her side, carefully wiggling the earring into the newly formed hole. "Y/N? You okay?"

She blinks her teary eyes open and opens her mouth, willing her throat to push out a yes. Instead, Harry's face goes blurry as the images in front of her get hazy. In a panic, she tries to stand, the ringing in her ears sending loud alarms to her brain. She thinks she hears Harry tell her to sit down, his strong arms taking a hold of her own — but that's when everything goes dark.

. . .

Harry's known this girl for all of two hours, and he's never felt panic ravish his body the way it did when she passed out a few minutes ago.

Thankfully, she comes to less than two minutes later (he counted), but he remains by her side the entire time, gently stroking her hair back. As a professional tattoo artist and piercer, he's of course had people faint under the needle, but it's never happened from just a standard ear piercing.

He supposes he maybe should've prepared himself for this. The sweet girl who accompanied Mai didn't look like she belonged at St. Mark's Social Club, but the moment his eyes zeroed in on her, he felt pulled to her. From the pastel pink top that stretched over her chest to the white ribbon tied in her hair, she was the opposite of any girl he's ever been attracted to — and yet, all he wanted was to tuck her under his arm, pull her into his chest, and spend the rest of his life protecting her.

Harry tells himself he's being stupid; some lovesick nerd that just needs to get his cock touched, but as he watches her slowly nurse a cup of water, warmth returning to her complexion, every doubt is thrown out the window.

"I'm so sorry," Y/N pouts, lifting a hand to run through her hair, "I'm... I feel so stupid, I'm so sorry, Harry."

"Why are you apologizing?" he asks through furrowed brows. "It's not your fault. People pass out all the time here, you have nothing to be sorry about."

"Y-yeah, but this is annoying... you probably have another appointment coming up and—"

"I don't."

"Yeah, but—"

"Y/N?"

"What?"

"Stop it."

She huffs, but the apologies stop after that. With his arms crossed over his chest, leaning back against the wall, he watches to make sure she finishes her water. He can tell she's still feeling embarrassed and it bothers him that she thinks of herself as something to feel sorry about.

"Y'know, kinda looked like some kind of badass Sleeping Beauty while you were passed out," Harry says with a smirk, making her eyes widen, "Pretty cute, if you ask me."

Y/N's face warms and he chuckles, deciding that making this girl blush is his new favorite past time.

"You're being silly." she mumbles, finishing off the water with a final swig. He shakes his head and takes the empty cup from her hand, tossing it in the garbage can behind her.

"Would never lie to you, dove. We're going on what, three hours of knowing each other? I wouldn't even dream of it."

"Harry," she whines and it makes him immediately grin, especially as she pushes her bottom lip out in a slight pout, "Shush, stop it."

"Think I should just call you princess from now on, hm? Such a pretty face coming in here, think I got lucky having you pass out on me."

He laughs loudly when her lips part, her jaw slack from the compliment. She doesn't have a comeback for that one, but he assumed as much. He turns to face the cabinets behind him and grabs a paper towel and a pen, quickly scrawling out his number on it before handing it to her.

"This is my number. I'm not gonna do your second piercing today 'cos that sounds like a recipe for disaster, but I want you to text me when you wanna come in and get it done," he explains, "I only work here on the weekend, but I'll come by any day you're free, princess."

She shuffles her feet before nodding her head, stuffing the paper towel in her bag. "O-okay. That sounds good."

"Good," Harry breathes, reaching out to for her hand to help her up, "Do you need a ride home?"

"No!" her eyes dart away from his face, blinking quickly as she focuses on the dark green walls. "Um, no, thank you. You've done enough for me today. I appreciate it, Harry."

"Sure," he says slowly, narrowing his eyes at her, "Okay, well... get home safe for me, alright?"

"I will." she nods and punctuates her sentence with a harsh swallow. "Can I... is it okay if I text you when I get home?"

A gentle smile wiggles its way onto Harry's face, warmth filling his body once again.

"You took the words right out of my mouth, princess."

. . .

To: Harry (St. Mark's Social Club)

hi, im home!! im so sorry again for what happened but thank you sm for making sure i was okay. hope it wasn't too inconvenient!

Y/N's never texted a boy she has a crush on (well, except for Jason Saunders in the 8th grade, but her dad found out within the hour and made her delete his number as he watched). She thinks she must still be lightheaded from fainting because there's no way she can seriously have a crush on someone she barely knows, but nonetheless, she pushes herself to message him to at least thank him for everything he did for her.

She sighs as she throws her phone in her purse and climbs out of her Range Rover. Locking the doors, she crosses her fingers as she walks up the stairs and to the elevator of the luxury garage, pressing the penthouse button on the panel. She hopes her parents are still out — if they're home, she'll be on the receiving end of their badgering for the rest of the evening, and she still wants to work on a paper she has due later next week.

When the sleek elevator doors open, she's met with silence — the only telltale sign that she's alone, with the exception of her parents' private chef and maid. Relief floods her body as she steps out and into the apartment, toeing her shoes off in the entryway and taking quiet steps to her bedroom.

She's exhausted from the day, flopping down on her bed with a sigh. Mindlessly, she feels for her phone in her bag, pulling it out to scroll through Instagram before she commits to doing work for the rest of the night. Instead, she's met with not one, but two texts from Harry.

Remember what I said about apologizing, princess?

Glad you made it home safely. Don't forget to text me about your second piercing — just name the day and I'm there. xx

She wants to let out a squeal, even if there's a large part of her brain that's constantly reminding her to limit her excitement. He's probably just being polite, she says to herself.

Still, it doesn't stop her from replying a mere moment later, promising to restrain her apologies and message him when she's ready to get her other ear pierced.

. . .

"Where were you yesterday?"

Y/N blinks at her father as she sets down the spatula, shifting her attention from the buckwheat pancakes she's currently cooking.

"Studying on campus," she replies easily, even if she had to coach herself all night to lie. She's never one to fib, let alone to her parents — she's always felt some type of fear when it comes to her father, but she knows he never would have approved if she gave him some vague answer about taking a friend to an appointment.

He lets out a noncommittal humph. "You know there's no reason for you to be getting a masters degree when you'll just work at the company when you graduate."

Her stomach tightens. It's a frequent area of contention between she and her parents — their dream for her has always been to work at their jewelry company as soon as she graduated college, but she somehow managed to convince them to entertain her wish to go to graduate school for an English degree. They told her she could do it as long as she starts at their office as soon as graduation comes around.

She hasn't quite yet figured out how she's getting out of that one. If she even can.

"I know, father," Y/N forces out, redirecting her attention to flipping the pancakes on the pan. "It's just important that I get good grades."

"I can't imagine it's very difficult. You speak the language."

She bites her tongue. Her parents have never understood her love for books, always scolding her for having her head in the clouds from a young age. If she's being honest, books have served as a way for her to escape, always wishing she could be the girl getting whisked away by her romantic interest.

Things always worked out in her books. Potentially having a happy ending like the ones she reads about is the only thing that keeps her going sometimes.

Her mother, looking pristine as always even at 9 in the morning, enters the kitchen just as Y/N's sitting down to her eat. Turning stiffly, her eyes narrow at her daughter.

"Those better not be full fat, Y/N." she says, jabbing her pointer finger at her plate.

"They're not." Y/N says softly.

In response, she simply hums. "I don't understand why you don't just have Freya make you food. She's there for a reason."

Y/N quickly stuffs a bite of pancake into her mouth, shrugging her shoulders as she slowly chews. She's never felt comfortable requesting their chef make her anything to eat when she was perfectly capable of doing it herself.

"Don't shrug. It's not ladylike," she scolds, Y/N's posture immediately straightening, "We have a lunch meeting with the Franklin family today. If you're available, you should come. You need to start learning the business."

"I have to work on a paper," the lie rolls off her tongue, knowing full well that she nearly finished it last night, "Finals are coming up. School is getting very busy."

"You know, Y/N, you're lucky we grant you all this freedom." her mother spits, the high heels of her Louboutin shoes clacking against the marbled flooring. "One day, you're not going to have this much of a choice in how you spend your time."

Despite only eating half a pancake, Y/N no longer feels hungry. Instead, she just nods her head and rolls her lips into her mouth.

"You're right. Thank you for everything you do for me."

She clears her dishes and goes back to her bedroom before her parents have a chance to see the tears streaming down her cheeks.

. . .

Y/N spends the better part of Sunday crying in her bedroom.

She's so exhausted of this cycle. Her parents work so hard to tear her down all the time, never once taking into account what her dreams and aspirations are. She feels like she can't do anything right, as if nothing she'll do will ever please them.

In her fit of anger and sadness, she decides she needs to leave Harry behind. He's just a pipe dream, a tiny little sliver of what her life could be if she had less restrictive parents. That night, when she's laying awake in bed, she decides that in the morning, she'll take the fresh piercing out and throw the earring away, delete his number, apologize to Mai, and pretend like this weekend never even happened.

That is the plan, anyway.

Until she wakes up to her alarm at 8 am and she has an unopened text from him, and her heart beats in a way that she's never truly felt before. She doesn't think she's ever smiled this wide after just waking up, the mere appearance of his name on her screen sending waves of hope and happiness throughout her body.

From: Harry (St. Mark's Social Club)

How's the piercing holding up?

After getting home on Saturday, he texted her a series of care instructions for the piercing, instructing her to clean it twice a day, twist the earring, and let him know if anything felt off. She wasn't sure what it was, but she felt particularly giddy when he told her what to do.

To: Harry (St. Mark's Social Club)

good!! no pain or anything and ive been doing what you told me to :)

She has a class at 10 this morning and she knows she should follow her typical routine of a shower, breakfast, and getting ready, but instead, she just lays back in the fluffy tufts of her bedding, smiling to herself as she waits for Harry to text back. A minute or so later, her phone vibrates.

Good girl.

Think you'll come in for your second anytime soon?

Her stomach twists in a delicious way but she's not sure why. There's nothing inherently sexual about what he's messaged her, but it has her craving more, a steady heartbeat forming somewhere deep in her core.

Her eyes read over his question and she bites her lip. She knows that less than 10 hours ago, she was planning to forget Harry, but the feeling he gives her is addictive. She doesn't want to stay away — so she won't.

yeah, if you don't mind doing it :)) maybe today?

In reality, she doesn't want to go under the needle again so soon, but she's craving to see him. He did say he'd come in any day for her.

Harry: I'd love to. What time are you free?

Y/N: i have classes from 10 to 1 today.. would 1:30 work? i can come by on my way home from campus

Harry: How about I meet you at your last class and we walk to the shop together?

Y/N swears her heart is going to beat right out of her chest. Her parents have never allowed her to hang out with a guy outside of anyone they approved of — over the years, they've attempted setting her up with other men of their same financial and social stature, but Y/N was never interested. As a result, they all grew bored of her by the second date, and her parents would yell at her for not being appealing enough.

She doesn't know if Harry will be bothered by the same thing, but she wants — no, she needs — to find out.

Y/N: okay:)

Harry: Great. Can't wait to see you. x

. . .

Harry knows he's pushing it.

This girl may as well have wealthy virgin tattooed across her forehead, but he just can't get himself to stay away. It doesn't seem like she wants him to either, which just makes it harder. And as he's waiting for her outside of her lecture hall on a campus he's never even step foot on, he realizes that they're from very, very different universes.

That doesn't really bother him. He can see the obvious differences — he wears all black, has over 70 tattoos (most of which were impulsive or practice while he was apprenticing), and gives people tattoos and piercings for a living. Y/N is smart and soft; an English major in graduate school, lives with her parents, and drives a car that costs more than his yearly rent.

He's not blind. Although, if he was blind to pretty, innocent girls, he probably could stop walking around with a permanent boner from thinking about how gorgeous she'd look in his bed.

The only thing that can tear him from his thoughts is the sight of her. He watches as she walks through the doors of the building, a slight pep in her step when she notices him, waving her hand with a smile. He licks his lips absently, willing the arousal pooling deep in his stomach to go away.

"Hi," she greets as she approaches him, "How're you?"

"I'm good." he answers, trying his best not to let his eyes wander over her outfit, "How was class?"

"'s okay. Kind of boring. Almost fell asleep once or twice."

"Yeah?" Harry chuckles as they begin to walk towards the nearest campus exit. "Gotta stay awake in those smarty pants classes of yours, princess."

He already knows she's blushing before he turns his head to see the familiar flush flower over her skin. He points to the bag over her shoulder, pausing his steps. "Lemme carry that for you."

"Oh— no, you don't have to, I don't want to be annoying—"

"Why would that be annoying?" he asks with a quirked brow. She swallows, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable."

"N-no, it wouldn't," she shakes her head and he nods, keeping his arm stretched out. She pushes the strap down her shoulder and hands the bag to him. "Thank you. That's very kind of you, Harry."

"What d'you have in here, a ton of bricks?" he asks teasingly as he slips the pink tote over his own shoulder.

"No! I have to bring books to campus every day so we can discuss certain passages and stuff. I guess I've been doing it for so long I didn't notice how heavy it is."

"It's very heavy, Y/N," Harry says, stuffing his hands into the front pocket of his sweatshirt, "No wonder you're falling asleep in class, you're basically doing an upper body workout on your way there."

"It's not that big a deal," she replies nonchalantly. "It's just— it's what my professors want, so."

He continues grumbling, annoyed that anyone would ask this girl to shuttle all this weight to campus every day.

"Can you start parking closer to your lecture halls, then? I don't wanna find out you dislocated your shoulder one day."

She shakes her head. "I don't drive to campus."

"Oh, is parking that bad?"

Y/N begins to fidget, wringing her hands out in front of her as they walk. Harry glances at her from his peripherals, soaking in the nervousness written all over her face.

"No... my parents don't let me drive to campus, that's all."

He hums, attempting to stay unbiased, even if everything he's learned about her so-called parents has only made anger rise in his chest.

"Do they have a lot of limits on things you can and can't do?"

"Kind of. I don't know."

"Is... is that something that bothers you?"

She worries her bottom lip between her teeth as they stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn. He shifts his body to face her.

"I've never really told anyone about how they are, but... well, they take care of me. They always have. They just have a very clear vision of what they want for me."

"Right," Harry nods, "Just because they care for you or pay for certain things doesn't mean they're good, though. I'm not saying they aren't— I just don't want you to confuse the two."

"I guess."

He decides to leave it at that, mainly because he can she's growing uncomfortable, but also because they're approaching the shop. He pushes the door open and holds it for Y/N, who sheepishly walks in, Harry close behind.

He doesn't acknowledge anyone as she follows him to his station, but she supposes it's not out of the ordinary for him to do these things since he's the owner. Once they're safely sheltered by the walls of his space, Y/N lets out a breath, sitting down in the chair she was in on Saturday.

After setting her bag down, he washes his hands at the sink. A long-haired guy pops his head in, grinning when he sees Y/N.

"Hey, H," he greets, "Didn't know you'd be here today."

Harry's tone is gruffer towards the man, even though he seems friendly. "Yeah. What's up?"

"I need a favor. I have an appointment that looks like it's gonna take a little longer than anticipated — last minute changes and all that to the design, but Jude is coming in to pickup at 2. You mind dealing with him?"

He glares at the man before assuming what Y/N is starting to call his signature pose — arms crossed over his broad chest, leaning back against some surface in his station (today, it's the tattoo bed).

"None of the other idiots can do it? Kinda busy."

"It's your off day, figured you could handle him," he shrugs, "Unless you'd like to introduce me—"

"Shut up." Harry replies, clenching his jaw. A spark zips up Y/N's body, though she's not sure why he seems to take offense to the man's words. "Yeah, I'll deal with it. What does he want?"

"Just some edibles and a few grams of bud. Nothing crazy."

Again, Y/N doesn't miss the way Harry shoots a glare at him, who simply raises his hands in mock defense. As if speaking through some sort of secret language, he backs out of the room, his Adidas sneakers sounding crisply against the wooden floors as he walks away.

"Sorry," Harry mumbles.

"Oh. It's okay."

He turns back around to look at Y/N, who somehow looks even smaller in the chair since they arrived.

"You have no idea what that was about, do you?"

She shrugs, though it's clear that Harry's right. She doesn't often like showcasing her naive nature, like it's some sort of party trick for people to laugh at. It makes her feel sad, a reminder of the "normal" years she could have had if not for her parents.

He sighs and lifts a hand to run through his messy hair. "A few of us sell weed on the side here. It's not really a big deal, but we just do it for some extra cash on the side. I would've rather told you on my own time, though."

Y/N's palms find her thighs, plucking at the hem of her skirt as she swallows, digesting the information. Weed? Her parents had always taught her that all drugs were bad. In their minds, weed was just as bad as heroin, but when Y/N read about states legalizing the former, she didn't quite understand how that made sense.

"I hope that doesn't make you think any differently of me," he continues. "I'm sorry."

She keeps her eyes set in her lap, "Is weed... bad?"

She's expecting him to laugh at her but instead, when she looks up, she's met with a small, adoring smile on his lips. His eyes twinkle just a bit as he shakes his head.

"No, it's not bad, dove. What do you know about it?"

"Nothing, really. I know it's legal in some places but my parents always told me to stay away from any drugs."

"I think a lot of parents do that," Harry replies with a nod, "But it can actually be really helpful for people. Mentally, physically. And others just like it, they enjoy the feeling of being high."

She swallows before biting her lip. "Do you... do you like it?"

"I do." he says. "Is that okay?"

She thinks he could tell her he's a serial killer and she would be okay with it.

"Yeah. 's okay."

His grin widens. "Alright. Lemme get you settled with this other piercing. I'll have to step out to sell to Jude at 2, but after that, do you wanna grab something to eat?"

She nods so fast she feels like a bobblehead. A chuckle — the warmest, most melodic thing Y/N thinks she's ever heard — sounds from his mouth.

"Just don't pass out again on me, Sleeping Beauty."

. . .

Y/N takes her second piercing much better than her first.

(And by that, she means she only teared up a little bit, and no fainting occurred.)

She's actually more nervous about the whole weed... thing. She feels torn. There's a half of her that feels intimidated by it; the part that still has a foot stuck in her parents' world, she supposes, where they taught her to never even look at people like Harry. The other half of her is intrigued to see what happens. Fascinated by him, maybe, and the way she feels when she's around him, and she doesn't know whether that's a good thing or not.

"Harry!"

Someone calls his name from the main room as he's cleaning up and he peeks his head out.

"Yeah?"

"Jude's here!"

He looks a lot less flighty about it than she assumes he would. Instead, he simply walks back into his station and unlocks a bottom cabinet to reveal a safe inside.

"Know you're watching, princess," he says, turning his head to flash a toothy smirk in her direction. She looks away, blinking nervously. "Don't reveal any of my grand weed secrets to anyone, hm?"

"I'm not," she huffs, making him chuckle, "I'm just... curious."

Harry hums, pulling contents out from the safe. When he's done, he doesn't even bother concealing any of the weed he's just taken out, instead just rising to his feet.

"I'll be right back. We can talk about the curiosity in a second."

Y/N's not snappy enough to come up with a response so she simply watches him walk away. She's only seen drug deals go down in movies and TV shows, where they're dramatic and part of the mob and guns are a necessity. She doesn't think this is one of those drug deals, but who is she to assume?

Surprisingly, Harry returns less than two minutes later with a small wad of cash in his hand. He pockets it, smiling at her when he sees she's still sitting there, the same perplexed look on her face.

"Steal any of my bud while I was gone?"

"Harry!"

He cackles and shakes his head. "Alright, dovie, c'mere."

Hesitantly, she stands, shuffling over to where Harry is back to kneeling on the floor. He looks up at her with an expectant expression, a wordless command to do the same. She does.

"Okay. You said you were curious?"

She nods.

"I've always found that the best solution to curiosity is knowledge. This doesn't mean you have to do anything, but it's good to know about things that may intimidate you," he explains. "So, weed can be found in a few different forms. I only sell flower, which are these little buds," he pulls out a container, showing her the small green nuggets. "And edibles, which is just candy or chocolate, stuff like that, with different levels of potency."

"Oh." Y/N furrows her eyebrows, a small wrinkle forming between them. "That's it?"

He chuckles, "Mhm. That's it."

"And what does it do?"

"Like how does it make me feel?"

She nods.

"It's different for everyone and strains — like, the types of weed — will affect people differently, too. For me, it just makes me a little more relaxed and giggly, more touchy and less in my head. It's nice."

"That does sound nice." she says softly. He hums as he pushes the container back into the safe, locking it back up in the cabinet. "Do you think I would like it?"

It's a question that kind of blurts out without thinking about it. When he turns to look at her, eyes serious and thoughtful, she feels small; the way everyone her age or older has always made her feel. She swallows harshly, immediately regretting it.

"I don't know the answer to that, but if you ever want to try, you can tell me. I'll make sure you have a safe experience."

It's not the answer she's expecting, but instead maybe the one that only exists in her wildest dreams. She looks down to hide her blush and he smiles to himself, ducking down to catch her eyes.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're a blushy little thing."

Her jaw snaps closed, wiggling uncomfortably at his blatant call out. Her mother always told her that her emotions were easy to read — she said it made her weak, though.

"I like it," Harry quickly amends, throat bobbing, "I like it a lot."

She thinks she notices his eyes zip to her lips, but just as quickly as they dart down, they're back up to her eyes. She swallows when she realizes they've somehow gotten closer, the distance slowly closing between them in millimeters. She doesn't know who's moving in — if it's him or her or both — but suddenly, she's looking up and his face is hovering over hers, blinking in silent permission. When she doesn't grant it because she's too nervous to speak, his tongue peeks out, licking over his raspberry lips.

"Is this okay?" He asks, minty breath ghosting over her mouth. "Can I do this?"

She nods, because she thinks any noise that would come out of her mouth would be just that — a sad excuse of a squeal. Her heart is pulsing in her ears, her hands trembling over her thighs, and then it happens — he presses his lips to hers, so gently it's almost like they aren't even there. The last time Y/N kissed someone, it was in ninth grade in the locker room after school, and she doubts it even qualified as a real kiss. This is different, though. This is Harry.

He feels the nervousness radiating off of her so he breaks away, despite the already addictive taste of her mouth. He's gone too quickly and it makes Y/N's heart rate quicken even faster.

"Need you to relax, princess." He says with his forehead pressed against hers. "Just follow my lead, okay? Promise it's not hard."

Embarrassed, she nods again, willing him to close the gap for a second time. This time, his lips are quick to move against hers, and it initially takes her by surprise. But she does what he told her to, mimicking his movements in tentative paces. With each passing moment, he's kissing her more and more breathless, and she lifts a shaking hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. It's a bold move for her and she swears she feels his signature smirk form into their kiss.

Time doesn't feel like it moves much when Y/N's mouth is on Harry's, but she knows it is because she needs a break to breathe. With panting lungs, she pulls away, watching as Harry's eyes flicker open. His lips are pinker somehow and swollen with spit. The image makes her core throb.

"Y'okay?" He asks. Y/N notices his pupils are darkened and he shifts from his seat on the floor, adjusting his lower half.

"Y-yeah," she nods, "Needed to, um, breathe."

He chuckles. "Yeah? Get a little dizzy there?"

"A little bit."

"Cute," he murmurs, lifting his thumb to swipe a bit of spit away from her bottom lip. Instinctively, her mouth opens, and she watches as his eyes flicker to hers. Through labored breath, he slowly moves his thumb along her plushy lip, resisting the urge to sink it inside. She's not sure why something as small as this is stirring her insides, but her eyes widen when he breaks away, pushing the finger into his own mouth.

"Oh." She breathes out.

"I don't wanna scare you," Harry whispers, "But I'm completely fucked when it comes to you, dove. If you don't want this... want me, I need you to go now."

She swallows. Slowly, she rises to her knees and inches towards him, closing the small gap that formed between their bodies. She's hesitant in her movements but pushes herself to straddle him, gently sinking her ass down into his lap. His eyes widen.

"I want this. I want you." She says.

"Good," Harry mumbles, brushing his lips against hers for the third time that afternoon, "Good."

. . .

Y/N thinks she could go pro at lying to her parents.

A month ago, she had to spend hours preparing the perfect fib, coaching herself on how to articulate it just casually enough so it didn't seem fabricated. These days, they come out like nothing.

I'll be home late, I have a group project to work on in the library.

I'm going to a tutoring session for one of my classes, I probably won't be home until dinnertime.

I'm spending some extra time on campus today so I can get a head start on a paper.

In all truthfulness, school couldn't be the furthest thing on her mind right now. Harry is.

Ever since that day they kissed at his shop, they haven't been able to spend more than a day apart. Mostly, they follow the same routine from that very afternoon, where he'll pick her up from her last class of the day and they'll walk back to St. Mark's together. Sometimes, Harry will have deals to do so they sit and talk in the downtime. Other days, he'll have actual work to tend to, accounting and whatever it is he does as a business owner, so she'll do some homework, enjoying the silent companionship. Y/N never stays too late into the evening, not wanting to push her luck with her parents, but Harry always sends her off with a kiss that leaves her breathless, making her promise to text him when she gets home.

And the kissing... yeah.

Y/N likes to think she's gotten better at it from all the practicing they've been doing. She still gets a bit flustered, but it's one of her favorite things to do with him. The second they shuffle into his station, Harry closes the door so they're finally in private, and it's like a switch is turned on. Within seconds, they're wrapped up in each others arms, mouths wet and hot against one another. She's discovered that her favorite place to be is seated in his lap while his tongue explores her mouth, breathy pants parting her lips. He loves to squeeze her ass over the pleats of her skirt, knowing that it riles her up in the smallest forms of contact — tiny rolls of her hips, nails being pressed into his skin, a slight pull of his hair.

She doesn't think things could get much better with Harry until today, during their typical makeout-and-grinding session, when he ducks beneath her jaw, pressing messy kisses to her soft skin. It's then that the words leave his lips.

"Can I feel you under here, dove?"

His hand is fisting the hem of her skirt and the low tone of his voice makes lightning zip through her body. She doesn't know how to reply — she wants to say yes, but her mouth is dry from immediate anxiety.

"N-no one's ever touched me there," she whispers, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Harry hums, unbothered, kissing her jaw once more before backing away slightly.

"Don't have to do if you don't want to. We can just keep doing what we've been doing if you'd prefer." he replies nonchalantly, his lips swollen. She swallows nervously, perturbed by his frank nature.

"I— I do want you to feel me," Y/N mumbles. It's not a lie — yes, she's a virgin who knows next to nothing about her body besides its reproductive process, but sometimes, when she goes home in the evening, she thinks about what it would like to keep going. She's seen movies and TV shows, but those have only made her even more curious. Sometimes the guy takes it slow and makes it romantic, other times it's painful and uncomfortable. She can only hope Harry would take care of her.

"Where, princess?"

Well, she can only hope that Harry would take care of her in his typical teasing ways.

Huffing, she shakes her head. "I can't say that, H."

"Can't touch you if I don't know where you want it," he murmurs, kissing her cheek lightly. "Wanna hear you say it. Ask me."

"Harry," she whines. "Please? You know... where."

"Here?" he asks, pressing his the warmth of his hand to her thigh. "This where you want me?"

"No."

"Hmm, how about here?" he moves his hand up just a bit further, inching underneath the fabric of her mini skirt to the crease of her thigh. Again, she shakes her head.

"Dunno where you want me then, dove. Thought you were my good girl."

"H-higher." she mumbles, attempting to push her body closer so he gets the hint.

"Higher?" he echoes with a smirk, "Here?"

This time, his fingertips have found the waistband of her panties. It immediately feels wrong, but not because of who's touching her, but rather the act of it. She takes a deep breath and tries to ignore the voice in her head. Slowly, in an act of false confidence, she bunches the fabric of her skirt up at her hips, watching as Harry's eyes widen. They instantly dart down to the small wet patch between her thighs and it makes him groan softly.

"Jesus," he mutters, forgetting about his little game. He gently thumbs at her clit through the material and she jumps. Using his other hand to squeeze her hip, he tries to keep her steady, mumbling out an apology. "Am I allowed to see this cute little pussy?"

She clenches at his question, surprising herself with how turned on she feels from just a few words.

"Yes," she nods, "Please."

"'Please'? Aren't you just the sweetest wet dream, hm?" Harry murmurs. He pushes the width of the fabric to the side, making Y/N shiver from the sudden exposure and being under his gaze. "Are you always this polite or is this just for me, princess?"

She licks over her lips when he parts her pussy with his ring and middle fingers. He hums, dipping a fingertip into her crease and lifting it to his mouth. He looks at her expectantly and she realizes she hasn't answered him yet.

"J-just for you."

"Pretty, swollen pussy just begging for attention. Do you always get this needy when we kiss?"

She nods, her eyelashes fluttering as he runs the tip of his pointer finger through her wetness.

A poor excuse for an answer sounds through her lips, the affirmative tone being the only thing that gives him an idea of what she said. He snickers boyishly, Y/N's jaw dropping when they both feel her pussy pulsate.

"I think my girl is a bit naughtier than I thought," he breathes, moving his finger back up to her clit to form slow, small circles. She gasps from the intensity, a new sensation of overwhelming pleasure that she's never received before. "Is that the truth, dovie? Do you wanna be my naughty girl instead of my polite one? Tell me."

"Harry," she mewls, arching her back to press deeper into his touch, "P-please— feels really good."

"Yeah?" he smirks, a mocking tone to his voice that makes Y/N squeeze her eyes shut. "Yeah, does it feel really good?"

"You're— you're being mean—"

"Oh, I don't think so, dove. I think I'm letting you use my fingers to get off, petting this pretty little clit until you cum all over my hand. I don't think that's mean, do you?"

He stops stroking at her and her eyes snap open. She can feel how warm her face has gotten under his touch, quiet puffs of breath ghosting over his lips as his eyes twinkle, knowing what he's done.

"Why'd you stop?" she asks in a small voice.

"You said I was being mean," Harry replies with a shrug, "If I were really mean, I'd leave you here high and dry. Do you want to learn about edging today, Y/N?"

She shakes her head, her bottom lip pushed out in a pout. He hums and lifts his hand to his mouth, his pink tongue darting out to swirl around the fingers that were just caressing her. She watches him with wide eyes. She doesn't think she's ever been this turned on in her life.

"Do you like when I tease you?" he asks lowly. They both know the answer — her body couldn't lie even if she wanted to, and Harry noticed it the second he felt her pussy clench against nothing at his mocking tone.

"Y-yes." she whispers.

"Dirty girl," he murmurs, moving both his hands down to her hips to give them a squeeze. He tightens his hold on her and gently moves her up to the tattoo bed, helping her lay down. "We have all the time in the world to learn about what makes your pussy wet, but right now, I wanna make her cum. Can I do that, dovie?"

Y/N nods, allowing him to adjust her body however he wants. He smiles at how pliant she is for him, sticking to her good girl demeanor.

"Need you to tell me if I go too far or if something doesn't feel right, okay?" he reminds her as he fits himself between her thighs, "At any point, you say stop and we do, no questions asked."

"Yeah. Okay."

It's apparent to her that Harry is experienced, because it takes no time for him to wiggle his fingers back to their initial position. His thumb is applying the smallest bit of pressure to her clit, still sensitive from when he was playing with it before, but now he's circling over her hole with one of his larger fingers. She gasps at the slight intrusion.

"Have you ever put your finger in here, princess?"

She shakes her head. "N-no."

"Do you want me to?" he asks, though he can already feel the way her hole is all but sucking him in, "It won't hurt. Promise."

She trusts him — maybe foolishly, because she knows her parents would disown her if they knew the position she was in right now — but she pushes the thought to the back of her head, instead simply answering his question with a nod. He keeps his eyes on hers as he slowly pushes in, a gasp instantly falling from her plushy lips. Her immediate reaction is discomfort, but as he starts to stroke at something towards the back of her walls, it feels... good. Overwhelmingly good. So good that a loud moan frees itself from deep in her chest and he jumps up, gently pressing his other hand over her mouth. He ducks down and presses a kiss to the shell of her ear.

"Know I'm making your little hole feel so good, but there's other people here. I wanna keep those moans just for myself, okay?"

Her eyes roll back as he continues to pump his finger inside of her, the assault on the magic little spot never stopping. She can sense the smirk that's likely formed on his face but she can't find it in her to care because she's never, ever felt this good before. She whimpers against his palm and he groans quietly, the sight of his gorgeous girl writhing beneath him nearly too much to handle. He wills his own raging hard-on away, instead focusing on Y/N's need to cum before he can even consider getting himself off.

"H-harry," she sounds beautiful mewling his name even when it's muffled by his hand, "I feel— I'm—"

"I know, dove, I know," he coos, quickening the loops around her clit. She's growing increasingly sensitive from his touch as her hole throbs around his finger. "Let go for me. Let go for daddy, lemme see that pretty pussy soak me."

Realistically, he would've preferred introducing her to the whole daddy kink thing on different terms, but he's instantly reminded of how insanely lucky he is when those are the words that push her over the edge. His jaw drops as he watches her squirm underneath his hands, riding out her orgasm and squeezing him in the most delicious way.

"Fuck, you're so fuckin' beautiful," he groans, unable to stop himself from lightly grinding his covered cock against her inner thigh. He can feel the warmth radiating off of her core and his desperation to feel her grows by the second.

When her orgasm finally subsides, she's panting heavily and he swallows, palming himself over his pants.

"Is this okay?" he asks breathily. Y/N raises up onto her elbows, her eyes growing a bit wide when she sees what he's doing. Despite how exhausted she is, she still nods, the curiosity of what he looks like when he comes steadily building inside her. "'s not gonna take me long — that was the prettiest thing I've ever fuckin' see. Jesus."

She blushes but he doesn't notice as he pulls his cock out from under his pants and boxers. He spits into his palm and starts to stroke himself, his gaze glued to the swollen mess between her legs.

In college, Y/N watched porn once. It was with her roommate and her friends, who found out she was a virgin and asked if she knew anything about sex. She didn't, so they had some sort of debauched education night for her, which was really just an excuse to giggle and make fun of the way guys moan in porn. It made her feel weird, watching this couple have sex on camera, but what she does remember is the girl encouraging him to cum. Once she started begging, it pushed him to her orgasm, and Y/N was pretty impressed with that.

So, she swallows her self-conscious nature and gazes up at Harry as the slick pumps over his length grow clumsy. She can see the pre-cum bubbling at the tip and the way he gathers it with each stroke, using it to further lubricate himself.

"Want you to cum for me," she breathes out, the words sounding foreign when they leave her lungs, "Please. Wanna see it."

Harry's eyes nearly bulge out of his head and she assumes she's done something right by the way he quickly squeezes them shut, a quiet fuck falling from his lips.

"Please cum for me, daddy."

Much like it was for her, the use of his honorific is what finally pushes him to his finish. His jaw goes slack and his chest vibrates with muffled groans as spurts of cum rain down on Y/N's mound, eliciting a small gasp as the feeling. It's messy, but she's enamored by how gorgeous Harry looks when he comes: swollen lips, clenched abs, flushed cheeks, his large hand fisted around his length.

"Shit," he mutters, reaching up with his clean hand to push his curls out of his face, "Are you alright? Was that okay?"

She nods far too quickly for her own good. She'd be lying if she says she isn't slightly overwhelmed, but she wouldn't take any of it back. She never wants to forget how good he made her feel, while the knowledge that she's the one that turned him on like that is a boost to her confidence.

"Lemme clean you up, hold on," he says breathily, reaching over to grab one of the folded hand towels in the cabinet. Gently, he runs the fabric over her sensitive bottom half, shushing her softly. He does the same thing for himself and then helps her shimmy her panties back up. "You sure you feel alright, dove? You're being quiet."

"'m okay. Just tired." She replies truthfully, sitting up to lean back against the wall.

"Yeah? One little orgasm and you're ready for a nap?"

She giggles and buries her head into his shoulder, her limbs feeling particularly jelly-like. He wraps a loose arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer, chuckling as he presses a kiss to her hair.

"That's alright. I'm happy to take care of you however you need, princess."

. . .

"When were you planning on telling me the bookstore is hiring?"

Harry's eyes widen at Y/N's unusually bold demeanor. He glances down at her, following her gaze to where she's staring at the small bookstore across the street. Sure enough, there's a help wanted sign in the window.

"I didn't know you were looking for a job, dove," he replies with a shrug. In all honesty, he's never really paid attention to the business across the street from his own.

"Well... I'm not really, but I do want to start making my own money." she says softly, biting her lip.

He raises his eyebrows, "Yeah? You wanna go see if you can fill out an application?"

Despite her nerves, she still nods her head. Harry smiles and intertwines their fingers together, guiding her across the way to the bookstore. He holds the door open for her and she swallows anxiously, stepping inside the quaint store. With his hand pressed to the small of her back, he gently ushers her to the cashier.

"Hi," she says shakily, "I saw you're hiring people and I was wondering if I could apply."

The woman at the front grins, immediately launching into a conversation with Y/N about how excited she is that someone's interested in working for them. As she pulls a paper application out from a drawer on the side, Harry smoothes his hand over her back, rubbing it gently. He's so proud of her, his heart feels like it could burst.

It's only when she's finishing up filling out her information that someone says her name. They both turn, Y/N's eyebrows instantly furrowing in confusion.

"Y/N," the woman hisses, and Harry glances down to watch his girl's face crumble, "What are you doing?"

"Y/N... who is this?" Harry asks, his possessive instincts immediately taking over.

She swallows harshly, tugging at the sleeves of her sweater.

"Um... this is my mom."

read part two here!

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lemoncrushh · 25 days

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Tattooed Heart - Story Page

SUMMARY: You are a cocktail waitress at a swanky lounge. Harry comes in one night, and you instantly dislike him. But another encounter eventually changes your opinion.

PAIRING: Waitress Y/N x Artist/Tattoo Artist Harry

TROPES: Enemies to Lovers

MUST BE 18+ TO READ

WORD COUNT: 34k+

Originally requested by @victoria-styles. Repost from 2023.

FEEDBACK IS LOVE

PART I

PART II

PART III

PART IV

PART V

PART VI

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles series #harry fic #harry fanfiction #harry fan fiction #harry smut #harry x reader #tattoo artist harry #harry series #harry x yn #enemies to lovers #asshole!harry #artist!harry

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jarofstyles · 8 months

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Indigo Masterlist

Harry hates Y/N. She’s sure of it.

Or stone faced tattoo artist!H, a confused Y/N, tattoo shops, nervous rambles, leather sketchbooks, strawberry milkshakes and leather jacket sharing.

Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusives!

Warnings: tattoos, smut (duh), miscommunication, talk of anxiety and bullying, drug usage (weed), alcohol, and tooth rotting fluff

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Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Divider by firefly-graphics

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ialwaysknewyouwerepunk · 4 months

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harry, as venus by botticelli

the birth of harry finally come to life, thanks to the incredible visions depicted in de amore ex tempore, a fic by @persephoneflouwers that has me dreaming like i haven't in a while. thank you <3

#my art #i haven't put this much effort in a piece of art in a WHILE #i'm so proud i could cry #i took the liberty to add his tattoos despite it not being accurate for the fic or the time period #of course #i made a version of harry without the tattoos but it's just not the same #harry isn't harry without his tattoos #as a tattooed person myself i know my tattoos are an inherent part of me #anyways.#angie this one's for you #and also very much for myself #as a venus and harry obsessed person #de amore ex tempore #deat #harry styles fanart

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my-castles-crumbling · 5 months

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thankful - unofficial jegulus microfic - thanks, @emlovessid

"What the fuck is that?" Regulus chokes out, almost spitting out his butterbeer in shock.

Usually, he is much more composed, even while drunk.

Usually, he is able to keep himself together.

But usually, James Potter does not have--

"A tattoo, Reggie. D'you like it?" James responds, his grin taunting.

It's not just a tattoo. It's...it's obscene.

Antlers starting in the three inches of uncovered skin between his too-small shirt and his pants, painted artfully over his hipbones and going down, down, down.

And Regulus is suddenly very thankful he's wearing loose robes.

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harruandlou · 4 months

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🖤i would know you from touch alone🖤coming soon🖤

▪soulmate au ▪ enemies to lovers ▪ slow burn (but...) ▪ rival gangs▪

They had never been face to face before now. They’d never touched, skin to skin, until Harry landed a punch to his face, high on his cheekbone. Louis shoved him off and was pulling his fist back from Harry’s abdomen before he realized his face wasn’t tingling because of the pain. It pooled out from his cheek, over his face, down his neck and spine. A shiver in the late September night. Heat, sparks - whatever you wanted to fucking call it. It was the curse of touch. That there was always the risk each person you shouldered past on the street or bumped into in the pub could turn out to be your soulmate. That some fucking prick nails you in the eye and now you’re saddled with him for life. He shook out his arm and stretched his neck again to hear it crack. He was trying to shake it off, but of course he couldn’t. His whole body was coming to life. Singing into the night. Like if it could, he’d be spilling light out of every pore into the darkness.

subscribe on ao3 to be notified when this is posted ✨

#mine #soulmate au #hltracks #hlsource #hlcreators #trackinghome #trackinghappily #tracksintheam #hljournal #im just getting so desperate to post this ive started making too many manips #so here is an extra one i spent all day on today #harrys blank arm feels so weird but all his tattoos in the fic are under his clothes teehee #and spot the tomlinson gang tattoo on louis arm and his scarrrr because the scar gets some loving in this one #basically your local gang leaders are like super fine

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whenyoucallmelover · 1 year

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You Taught Me A Lesson (That Feelings Are Reckless)

by callmelover.

pairing: harry styles/louis tomlinson

chapters: 2/2. 5k.

tags: hurt/comfort, awkward roommates, protective louis (though he won't admit it)

After swallowing the Excedrin, Harry stays silent. The last place he wants to be right now is in the same room as Louis. The aura between the two of them had been uncomfortable from the get-go, but Harry has never wanted to escape it more than he does at this moment. Unfortunately, his shaky legs have made it clear that that won't be happening any time soon.

Dammit.

They were so close to having a normal interaction.

✷

Or the one where Harry and Louis live together but like to ignore each other... Until one day, they don't.

⭒ posted october 17, 2022.

#fics: mine #callmelover #larry fic #larry fanfiction #larry fic rec #hurt/comfort #harry styles #louis tomlinson #harry and louis #harry is louis' baby #one direction #tattoo artist louis #bc that's hot #thelarriefics #hlficlibrary #under 10k

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waltzedintherain · 1 year

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somewhere in the future🌻

harry definitely gets taller than both his dads

somewhere along the timeline of @sequinhaze ‘s when you were mine fic :))))

now, contrary to popular opinions i gave regulus stubble because look how happy he looks. that little fella AWH it probably took him months to grow those five little hairs and he’s proud of it

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starsnboys · 3 months

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IMPORTANT QUESTION!!

#marauders #dorlene #marylily #jegulus #wolfstar #blaise/george #text fic #coffee shop #tattoo parlor #golden trio era #harry potter #harry potter fandom

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 1 year

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Young American - Part 6**

Part 6!!!! Eeeeek! Just tension building and the first smut! Also, Harry continues to be a huge sap 🥰

WC: 6.6K

Series Masterlist

“I’ll be your good girl.”

Y/N’s delicate whisper was playing in a loop in Harry’s brain and making him feel like he was internally combusting; he was frozen for a few seconds as he processed her words. He had a need to please. It was more than making up for the past, it was just his style of loving on someone. He wasn’t able to fully unleash this side of himself with every partner he had, but he was really interested in getting there with Y/N - if she’d let him of course. He wanted to get to know her inside and out, physically and mentally, he felt that he already knew her emotionally. She herself was a giver, a caretaker, an empath - people like that are often the most neglected ones and he wanted to make sure that she never felt neglected again in her life. His hands tightened around her hips as his body caught up with his mind and he smiled and as she planted a kiss on his jaw. Then another and another until she had reached his chin and then she smiled timidly and looked up at him through her lashes, not kissing his lips yet.

“You mean that?” He asked quietly and she nodded, “Alright, baby.” He smiled and then leaned down to peck her lips quickly before stepping back a bit to bend down to the little drawers under the station to grab a second skin patch for his tattoo.

Y/N was confused, she was preparing for him to do something about the sticky mess in her panties, or at least ask her to take care of his hard on, but he didn’t. Maybe she had read him wrong, she could’ve sworn that he was a dominant type and that given the chance he would take what was his, but it seemed that he was a gentle giant. Maybe she needed to take charge if she wanted more from him.

“Wanna help me?” He asked with a chuckle and her eyebrows shot up as she bit her bottom lip and nodded.

“Right, yeah of course!” She responded and got off of the counter and lathered on some hand sanitizer before opening up the patch and covering his fresh ink. She smiled up at him, “Good to go.” She said softly and he just looked at her for a moment.

“You like taking care of people, huh?” He asked and she shrugged.

“I guess so.” She smiled as she straightened up.

“It makes you feel good about yourself?” He asked and she creased her eyebrows in a little bit.

“I mean yeah, but that’s not why I do it. I guess you just never know who gets that sort of treatment regularly and who doesn’t. So if they have to deal with me I’m sure as hell going to make sure they feel good around me, you know?” He nodded and smiled.

“Do you feel like people care about you the same way you care about them?” He asked and she smiled a little sadly.

“Most of the time they don’t. But it doesn’t bother me, that’s expected, most people are takers.” She said with a casual shrug and he hummed. He maybe appeared to be a taker but he was a giver, if she only knew how much he was willing to give. How much of himself he had given before and like she said, been taken advantage of because of what he was willing to give. He gave subtly and discretely in ways that weren’t all that noticeable to begin with but as they spent more time together she would soon realize that she was being well taken care of emotionally, mentally, physically and well, sexually too. That would be the most obvious way for her to know if she wanted that with him.

“That they are.” He agreed and smiled at her, “Thank you again for my tattoo. I’m quite literally obsessed with it.” He hummed and she was beaming with pride.

“Send me that picture so I can post it.” She insisted and he nodded.

“Right!” He chuckled and went and did just that before they started cleaning up while making some small talk.

Finally they were heading out towards the back exit and as the heavy metal door shut behind them she gave it a tug to ensure it was locked properly and with she turned towards him. He could feel her expectation radiating off of her, it made him want to grin teasingly. He was keen on feeling her perfectly soft and plush lips melting against his own too, but he liked to wait; to rile himself up until he couldn’t handle it anymore. Him playing nice and going above and beyond to get her to give him another chance was wonderful for him, he wanted her approval and he felt over the moon knowing that he had successfully made her happy with him again.

Y/N was shy though and he could sense her impatience, but he wanted to know if she’d be the type to ask for what she wanted or just suffer in silence until he decided to kiss her again, whether that be ten seconds or ten days from now. He needed to know what he was working with to be able to fully gain her trust in this respect, after all that’s what any good pleasure dom does - gains his submissive’s complete and unequivocal trust first and foremost. It was just a few seconds of silence as they looked at each other, he knew she wasn’t good with silence, she had said so at the halloween party. It couldn’t have been more than five seconds before her eyes blinked away from his with a timid smile and he sighed a small laugh.

“Sorry, eye contact is hard for me.” She confessed and that just wouldn’t do.

“Why?” He asked gently and she bit her lip before looking up at him again.

“I feel…exposed, I guess? Like people can read my mind and my thoughts.” She explained.

“You know, before we were…cool,” he said and she nodded, “I would get one look at your eyes and know when I’d hurt your feelings or peeved you off or enraged you.” He said.

“And you didn’t care?” She asked with a little bit of hurt laced into her tone and he sighed.

“Of course I did. I’ve always felt bad about it, I just talked myself out of feeling bad.” He admitted, “But I tell you this because it was absolutely mind boggling to me how despite all of the storms quite noticeably brewing inside of you, you held yourself together. Yeah, your eyes showed everything, you were vulnerable and I’d often be prepared to react a certain way and you’d do the opposite of what I thought. So even if you feel exposed, the mental process you go through completely changes everything so you’re…actually quite safe and hard to read. But moreover, it’s admirable, I’ve never met anyone who has so much emotional self-regulation.” He chuckled and she giggled.

“Yeah, mastering that skill has taken a lifetime.” She sighed.

“You don’t have to do that with me, you know? I can handle whatever you throw at me. Believe me.” He said and she chuckled.

“Mmmm, I don’t know about that, H.” She said and he grinned at her, “What?”

“You called me, H.” He said with a smile.

“Oh! I’ve heard Auree calling you that and it just slipped out I guess.” She said bashfully, “Sorry.”

“No, it’s OK. Most of my family and friends call me that. You can too if you want.” He assured her and she smiled.

“OK.” She hummed happily, “Well we should probably go, but I’ll see you tomorrow.” She said as she started walking back towards her car.

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He confirmed with a smile and with that she twirled on her heels and walked off to her car.

Harry had every intent of kissing her again, so he was careful to be quiet as he trailed after her to the back end of the parking lot and right as she got to her door he reached for her waist and turned her around as she gasped.

“Jesus, Harry!” She reprimanded and he smirked as he pressed her against the car.

“Sorry, love, I just had one more question for you.” He informed and she nodded, urging him to go on, “Can I kiss you again? Just one more time before we go.” He said more quietly and she immediately bit her lip as she looked up at him and nodded, “Yeah?” He asked again, breathily, as he leaned down, the tip of his nose skimmed along the length of hers.

“Yes. Please.” She whimpered and he hummed.

“Please?” He asked with a smirk and she looked away bashfully, “No, don’t be embarrassed, love. You have such good manners, I really like that.” He assured as he angled her face back up towards his, “Did say you’re a good girl. My good girl. Right?” He asked and she sighed with a little pout.

“Don’t make fun.”

“I’m not making fun.” He assured her as he inched closer to her mouth, “I like that you wanna be good for me.” He mumbled into the minuscule space between them. She was so patient, much like him. Their lips brushed gently but she made no move to press her mouth further against his, “And you are, Y/N. You’re so good for me. Know you’re itching for me to kiss you, but you’re so patient and respectful, waiting for me do it.” He crooned and she was feeling like putty, the anticipation was killing her, “How long are you willing to wait?” He asked.

“As long as you tell me.” She responded quietly and he grinned. Fuck, she was perfect, the things he could do to her if she decided to delve into his games with him.

“That’s a good girl.” He praised and she bit down on her lip at the sound of it, “Kiss me.” He instructed, voice quiet, yet commanding. He felt her tip-toe to reach his mouth better and she started leaning in and right as their lips grazed he pulled back with a smirk and she looked at his eyes with disappointment, “Kiss me.” He insisted again and she sighed and went back in, her lips puckered out to meet his and he once again pulled out of her reach as she creased her eyebrows in frustration, this made him grin even more, “Come on, kiss me.” He said again and her desperate eyes met his own before she leaned in again and he smirked as he pulled back again.

“Harry.” She pouted though an exhale of exasperation.

“What is it, love?” He asked teasingly with a smile as he rubbed the tips of their noses together playfully.

“You’re teasing too much.” She huffed. Oh, she hadn’t seen the half of it, “Been listening to you and doing everything you say. Just want to taste your lips again.” She sighed and he bit his lip as his eyes met hers and without any further warning he grabbed a hold of her face and went in for another kiss- tongue first.

Y/N moaned as their eager mouths met desperately. She just held her lips open for him as his tongue rolled deliciously against her own. It made her insides feel like mush and for her chest to tighten at the distinguishable feeling. They both hummed and moaned into their kiss, it was one of those kisses that started making you think about how much more you wanted. He started to slow it down until they were leisurely smearing their lips together until he pulled away and sighed as his forehead rested against her own.

“What time is it?” He asked and she grabbed her phone from her pocket and giggled showing him that it was nearly 11 at night, “Jesus, been snogging you for nearly twenty minutes and it only felt like two.” He hummed and she grinned.

“It’s too easy to get carried away with it.” She agreed and he nodded with a hum.

“Alright, love, let’s get you in your car.” He said and she giggled and pulled her door open and settled in as he stood there, “See you in the morning, OK?”

“See you.” She smiled before he shut her door and she started her car. He then hurried over to his and after a few moments they both went their separate ways.

*************

On his way home Harry could not stop smiling. He was so fucking happy that he had finally got to feel Y/N’s lips against his own. He got home and it still felt like he was in a dream of sorts, he was just going through the motions of getting ready for bed and when he finally settled into his mattress (he still hadn’t built his bed frame) he just tucked his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling just thinking about her. About the sweet, young, American apprentice who finessed her way into his heart with her kind, caring, and compassionate way of being. He must admit that even in her irritated state he liked her. He liked how alive she could make him feel. Without even giving it a second thought he reached for his phone and dialed her number, it rang a couple of times before it stopped and his entire body just froze for a second, waiting impatiently to hear her voice. He hadn’t felt this way about anyone in…a long, long while. He started to remember her, a dark cloud started to cloud his mind and then Y/N’s sweet voice swept in at the last seconds, breaking all of the darkness with her light.

“Hello?” She nearly whispered into the receiver and he smiled again. It made him feel like they were beside each other and speaking quietly into the night. He adored the sweet timbre of her voice.

“I can’t stop thinking about us kissing.” He confessed quietly, though there was a suspenseful air of trepidation to his vulnerable confession. He felt his chest tighten with the feeling of anxiety for being so open about it as he awaited her response. For a second he even felt regretful of calling her at this hour and saying anything at all.

“I can’t either.” She whispered back and he could hear the smile in her voice. He felt a sense of relief wash over him as his muscles relaxed at her confirmation of feeling the same way about their kisses as him.

“I can’t wait to do it again.” He flirted with a smirk. He could just picture her looking away bashfully with warm cheeks. And she certainly was blushing, but she was nuzzling into the pillow beside her and as she inhaled to get a whiff of his cologne. It was probably from the night he stayed over. She really needed to wash it but it was comforting for her, so she had just neglected that one a bit.

“My pillow still smells like your cologne.” She informed him, changing the subject a bit and he smiled upon hearing that.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” He inquired and she grinned.

“Not a bad thing at all. Your cologne smells really good.” She admitted and he hummed.

“I’m glad you like it.” He smiled, “Hey tomorrow, do you want to come over and help me build a few more things?” He asked and she smiled.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Cool. We can have dinner and watch a film or something?” He asked and she hummed, “Make out a little bit…” he added in and she giggled. He was a huge sap, which was not at all what she was expecting, but surprisingly she was enjoying it. All her life she was competing with others to get someone’s attention, even while together with them! Harry already gave her his undivided attention and she hadn’t really done anything except be nice to him. She liked knowing without a doubt that he was interested in her.

“Make out a lot?” She asked back with a smile and he chuckled.

“Yeah love, whatever you want.” He assured and that made her smile.

“Ooh, what do you think we should get for dinner? Or are we cooking?” She asked and Harry chuckled.

“Are you hungry?” He asked and she giggled.

“Yeah, actually I kind of am.” She responded and he hummed.

“What are your aunt’s rules regarding late night deliveries?” He mused and she grinned.

“As long as they don’t disturb her sleep she doesn’t care.” She informed, “but don’t worry about it. There’s a Taco Bell around the corner, I can just go real quick.” She said and he tutted.

“Not at this hour, all alone. There are so many creeps out here.” He said and she giggled.

“Very gallant of you, but it’s OK, I promise.” She assured, “Do this at least twice a week.” She confessed and he chuckled and she giggled along with him.

“Of course you do.” He sighed with amusement and she bit her lip.

“But if you want to come over anyway…” she slipped in as their laughter died down and Harry’s mind fogged up without a rational thought within reach at her invitation. It was nearly 12:30… that’s not too late, right? He asked himself.

“Do you want me to?” He asked and she bit her lip as her tummy turned with excitement.

“Yeah.” She said back, “Impromptu sleep over!” She beamed and he hummed.

“OK, send me the address again and I’ll text you when I’m outside.”

“M’kay. Maybe bring your stuff for tomorrow so that you’re not rushing to get home early.” She said.

“Good thinking. And wait for me before going to bloody Taco Bell.” He said and she giggled quietly.

“OK.”

“Alright, see you in a bit.” He said before hanging up. Harry gathered up his things and drove out to her place like a bat out of hell.

Y/N on the other hand wasn’t even hungry anymore, just anxious to see him before her. She really didn’t want to wait until the shop to see him again. To feel his warmth radiating against her, to feel his lips puckering against her own, to hear his voice and his warm puffs of air against her skin. She got up and made her way to the kitchen and as she dug around quietly she opted for a few strawberries to satiate the hunger she felt. She then hurried to brush her teeth and laid in bed awaiting Harry’s text. It came about 10 minutes later and she hurried to the front door, opening it quietly and signaling him over. After a few moments he walked up with a large tote bag draped over his shoulder and a big smile.

“I found something to eat here.” She explained and he hummed as she let him inside and locked up quietly. When she turned around to guide him towards her bedroom he was just a few steps behind her and he leaned down to connect their lips in a quick kiss and she hummed with a smile.

“Sorry, couldn’t wait.” He whispered as he pulled back and she smiled.

“C’mon.” She said, blindly finding his hand and leading him back to her room.

She closed the door behind them, gently pressing it back until it fully shut. Harry was setting his tote down at bench at the end of the bed. He slipped off the jacket he was in so that he was just in his t-shirt and shorts and sat on the edge of her bed and slipped his shoes off. He was just so effortlessly good looking, it was mind boggling. She then came up to him and he opened his legs to let her stand in between them and he hummed delightfully and his eyes closed for a moment as her fingers raked his curls back. When she reached the back of his head she let her fingers massage his scalp and he moaned, letting his head roll back and she smiled. Harry’s whole body was covered in goosebumps at the massage she was giving him. She slowly started coming to a stop and she titled his face up towards hers with a smile. He still felt tingly from the feelings of her fingers in his hair and he was smiling up at her dopily.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.” She confessed with a smile and he chuckled softly.

“I can’t even remember the last time someone did that to me.” He responded. His voice now sounded hoarse and deeper than before and it made her buzz, “When I was a kid my mum used to do that to help me fall asleep. I was the worst at going to bed.” He said and she smiled at his reminiscing, “She would always make me chamomile tea with honey before bed to try and get me drowsy, think she maybe put Benadryl in it sometimes.” He said and Y/N giggled, throwing her head back like she did when she laughed and he bit his lip as he watched her.

“What?” She asked with a smile as she looked at him again and he shook his head bashfully, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“I really like it when you laugh.” He said as he brought his hands to the backs of her thighs, rubbing tenderly, “I like it when you look so happy like tha’.” He said and she bit her lip, the thumping of her heart was surely palpable through her chest. God, she couldn’t even imagine where she’d be today if he had been this way from the start. She had to remind herself that she couldn’t just plop into his lap like she so desperately wanted to, “What’re you pouting about, love?” He asked her with concern. She hadn’t even realized she was pouting.

“Oh nothing, I was just thinking about how I couldn’t just sit on your lap.”

“Oh, right.” He recalled, he was so fucking happy to be with her he had even forgotten the slight burn of his fresh tattoo, “Well lets get in the bed then, yeah?” She nodded and they soon settled in, facing each other. The light from the moon was casting enough of a dim light to allow their eyes to adjust a bit and be able to see each other. Harry reached for her hip and draped his hand over it and she swears he was smirking as he let his hand slide a bit lower so that his fingers were resting on her butt and she squirmed as he gently pinched at it before he laughed softly.

“Stop it, you lecher!” She giggled and he shook his head.

“Don’t think I will.” He said and she rolled her eyes, “Don’t roll your eyes at me.” He whispered and she did it again, “Such a brat.” He huffed and she smiled. He brought his hand up from her side let his fingers trace over her lips, “Even still, gonna kiss you good night.” He whispered and she smiled.

She pressed a quick kiss to the fingers tracing her lips and he smiled at her sweet action. He was just about to pull them away and lean in, but then she slightly parted her lips and let her tongue tickle against his digits and he bit his lip as he felt a lump forming in his throat. He ran his fingers down a bit so that the tips pressed down her bottom lip and then he let it wobble back into place. Her needy eyes met his and he swallowed down the lump in his throat as he let his index and middle fingers trace along her bottom lip a few times, she lightly poked her warm and wet tongue against his finger tips and his heart started pounding and all of the blood in his body started rushing down to his groin. He barely pushed his fingers past her lips, he felt them skim over her bottom row of teeth and his darkened eyes met hers as he pushed them in further. They were both breathing so heavily and as she felt them rub against her tongue lightly she just couldn’t help it anymore and opened up wider and leaned in so that his fingers were fully in her mouth. She squeezed her lips together and sucked.

“Fuck.” Harry sighed breathily at the smooth texture of her hot tongue against the pads of his fingers. Her mouth was warm and wet and it made him think about other parts of her that were warmer and wetter for him. He started to pump his fingers in and out of her mouth slowly and she moaned around them, “You’re so good with your mouth, love.” She moaned at the compliment and he groaned as his cock started to throb and he pushed his fingers in deeper and he felt how she relaxed her jaw and throat to let him sink his fingers into the very back of her mouth, “Oh fuck, love.” He sighed desperately and he didn’t even process it as her hand lifted his shirt and bunched it up near his chest and her other hand then came between them and started to rub over his erection, “Baby-” he gasped and she moaned and sucked his fingers with more fervor.

Harry liked to edge himself. He thought of himself as a pleasure dom, his pleasure always came from bringing his partner as much pleasure as possible. Not that he never got to experience the pleasure, but typically he reserved coming for when he had sex. He would get himself off when he didn’t have a partner, but he would edge himself for days or until he just couldn’t handle it anymore and needed to bust a big load. It had been nearly a week since the last time he got himself off and just feeling her hot, little mouth on his fingers was doing enough to work him up. He needed her to stop before he came.

“Shit!” He moaned as the pad of her thumb found the very leaky tip of his cock and she did nothing but rub over it and smear the mess of his precum over it until his breath was hitching, “Baby, baby, baby, stop! You’re gonna make me come!” He warned breathily and she moaned again and didn’t stop. He tried to pull his fingers out of her mouth to bring his hand down to stop her, but she bit down on them lightly and he moaned. He couldn’t help it as his hips bucked up towards her touch and his abs started to tense and his breath to hitch. His tip was so sensitive, he could feel his precum leaking and wetting the lower parts of his tummy, “Oh fuck…fuuuuck…” he moaned as his cum started to erupt from his red and throbbing tip. She moaned as she felt it oozing out and released his fingers from her mouth as he rolled onto his back, attempting to catch his breath. She leaned over and kissed his lips quickly before lowering herself, “W-wha’re you doing?” He whispered in shock..

“Cleaning your mess.” She mumbled as she planted a kiss over his butterfly tattoo and then rolled her tongue out to lick up the sperm that had spurted out onto his skin.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N…” he whispered almost as if in pain as she quickly licked over the tip of his cock and up his happy trail, leaving his body stiff as a board, awaiting her next move. But he felt her warmth pull away and then he felt her settled back into the pillows. He opened his heavy eyes and turned to her and she just gave him a small smile, “You’re…wild.” He said through a sigh and smile and she giggled quietly.

“I get carried away easily.” She admitted with a soft tone and he smiled. She felt a little embarrassed now as he just smiled at her, they had only kissed for the first time a few hours ago and she had just made him come and licked the cum off of him. She was about to apologize when he bit his lip.

“Y/N, kiss me.” He commanded, “Lemme taste myself on your tongue.” He whispered hotly and she practically turned to mush as he said those words and she surged forward as they started to make out. She moaned as he gently sucked on her tongue, moaning at the slightly salty taste of his cum mixed with the taste of her own mouth. “Let me make you come.” He whispered after their lips parted with a gasp.

“Ummm, it’s OK…it’s ummm, kind of hard for me t-to come with a partner.” She admitted timidly and he furrowed his brows, “OK, actually I’ve never come by someone else.” She rushed out and he looked offended.

She just always felt like there were elements missing with partners. She felt that everything was so mechanical; the build up was hot and she would get aroused, but she never orgasmed. She’d had sore labia and a throbbing clit a lot from the lack of orgasms. When she’d get off though she’d let her mind wander to her fantasies, or sometimes she’d listen to something spicy and get off that way. But the point was that she had a hard time with partners. She didn’t know why but that’s the way it was, which was why she got so carried away when she’d made someone else come, it was the ultimate tease, giving someone something she’d never get back. She was snapped out of her rapid thoughts as Harry kissed her pouted lips.

“How about you let me give it a try?” He asked and she bit her lip, “It won’t be anything crazy, just gonna use my fingers.” He said. His fingers? She thought to herself. Just from hearing that she was mentally preparing for the disappointment and consolation speech she would give him when he didn’t make her come. She wouldn’t bother faking it with him, she felt that he was too smart for that.

“Yeah, OK.” She smiled nervously and he hummed and pushed her to lie on her back and he straddled her hips. He bent his arms to lower himself and to be able to kiss her and after a few seconds he parted from her mouth.

“If you don’t like something just let me know, OK? Or if you want me to stop just tell me to stop. OK?” He informed her and she nodded and he shook his head, “Mm-mmm,” he expressed his disapproval, “Want your words, love.” He said quietly and she swallowed thickly upon hearing that.

“OK.” She whispered, her chest already felt tight with nerves. No one had ever said that to her before. Now she wasn’t sure what to expect. His eyes met hers and despite the tender look he continued to give her there was something else hidden in his eyes. She wasn’t sure but when he spoke his next words she knew that something between them had shifted.

“That’s my good girl.” He said lowly. His eyes scanned over her face slowly and as he looked at her lips he wet his own with his tongue before sinking his top teeth into his fuller bottom lip and then it slipped from below it as his lips quirked up to the left in a boyish, teasing grin. His dimple carved deep into his cheek, it was adorable, but she knew that the cause of his grin was anything but adorable.

“What is it?” She asked timidly.

“I still can’t believe you licked up my cum.” He whispered and she felt herself blush and rolled her lips together to suppress her nervous laugh, “It was fucking hot.” His tone changed, but he was still smirking down at her, “Tastes alright, right?” He asked.

“Yeah. I liked it.” She confessed bashfully and he bit his lip again as he looked over her face once more before he knelt up to look down at the rest of her body. She watched as he ogled her; she was so turned on that her nipples were definitely straining against her old, thinned out baggy t-shirt. He reached his hand out towards her chest, but right before he kneaded his hand into it he pulled it back, barely skimming over the peak of her nipple and that sent her body into high alert mode. She wanted to ask him why he decided not to go for it but he answered that for her instead.

“I’d rather just go for the main event actually.” He said lowly and she hummed. His eyes trailed down to her pajama shorts, they were a bit loose and went down to about mid thigh, “The eternal debate, panties or no panties?” He said with a smile, “What do you think I am?” He asked her and her mind flickered to what had happened not even 10 minutes before.

“No panties, obviously.” She said and he grinned.

“Yeah.” He shrugged with a snigger and she laughed softly.

“OK, so what am I?” She asked and he looked into her eyes. His gaze was so piercing that she didn’t see one of his hands lower to the front of her shorts, “Well?”she asked and he bit his lip to suppress his smirk as he pulled up the material right above the crotch of her shorts, imprinting the shape of her pussy right against the material. She yelped in surprise as the thicker middle seam of the shorts dug against her aching clit and her eyes widened as her hands flew up to cover her mouth. Harry’s face scrunched up as his silent laugh turned into a snigger and she closed her eyes and shook her head as she removed her hands from her mouth.

“I knew it was no panties.” He whispered cheekily.

It was only then that Y/N felt a little tickle down her butt as she shifted a bit. She realized that it was from how wet she was and it took her by surprise, she had never been that wet before; she didn’t even know it was possible. Harry watched her and started to realize what she had just discovered. He could see from his peripherals how her thighs kept squeezing together or slightly shifting.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, aren’t you?” He asked out of the blue with a cocky smile and she bit her lip and nodded. He quirked his eyebrow up expectantly and she widened her eyes in realization.

“Yes. I am.” She responded verbally.

“Yes you are- what?” He pushed further and she blushed as she realized what he wanted. She swallowed thickly before she spoke up.

“I’m s-so fucking wet for you, Harry.” She stammered in a soft and breathy voice and he hummed.

“Yeah, you are.” He hummed haughtily and she swallowed thickly again. He was so fucking sexy, Y/N was reeling. He could ask her to jump off a cliff and she’d do it, “Do you care if I see you bare or do you want me to keep your shorts on?” He asked her.

“You can take ‘em off if you want.” She responded and he smiled.

“OK.” He nodded and she lifted her hips to allow him to slip off her shorts. He folded them up and placed them off to the side before dipping down to kiss her. He shifted to one side of her and spoke into their kiss, “Bend your legs for me, yeah?” She just did it and he knelt in between her legs, careful to not move his thigh too much. Their lips met eagerly and he started to pull back, “Sit up.” He said and she sat up and he grabbed the two pillows on his side of the bed and stuffed them behind her so that she was propped up, “Want you to be able to see.” He hummed and she moaned.

She couldn’t believe how wet she was for him, she could feel her inner walls fluttering and her clit was puffy and aching for attention. She didn’t remember the last time she had felt this on fire. But it was his words, his kisses, his energy. She suddenly gasped as his warm palm cupped over her center. He could already feel on the tips of his fingers how wet she was. He sighed with a smile.

“Shit…” he exhaled and she moaned as he added more pressure and his middle finger prodded right against her entrance. He wiggled his fingers up and down as she whined softly. The smacking, wet sounds of her arousal made him groan as his digits became coated in her arousal, “Fuck, love the sound of your wet pussy.” He growled lowly.

“Oh my god…” She sang in excitement as a wave of pleasure struck her core and expanded through her body.

“Gonna put my fingers in.” He warned her and she nodded, trying her best to relax. He slowly rubbed over her dripping, little hole, “Think I can start with two?” He mumbled into her mouth and she nodded.

“Yes, fuck. Please! I want to feel full.” She whispered desperately and he grinned as he started to push them into her gently. His fingers were obviously longer and thicker than hers, the fit made her body squirm as he sunk in, stretching out her long neglected pussy. She moaned aloud when he finally sunk in to the knuckle.

“Shhh, baby, shhh…” He shushed her with a grin, “Gotta be quiet.” He reminded her and she bit her lip and as he arched his fingers up and rubbed into her g-spot and her warm, velvety walls squeezed his fingers tight, “You’re so tight.” He grunted against her mouth as he thrust his fingers in and out, prodding into her g-spot over and over, her brain was melting as her entire body started to buzz and tingle from the center out. He started going faster and she let out a little squeak as her fists tightened up into the sheets.

“Oh Harry, right there!” She whined quietly, “Right there!” She mewled desperately. She was already starting to feel that familiar tightening in her stomach and her breathing started to become shallow. He then used his thumb to rub circles into her clit which made her gasp and for her mouth to open in a silent scream. Harry felt her muscles pulsate around his digits and he grinned.

“Thought it was hard for you to come with a partner.” He teased and she shivered, “Seems to me you’re already close, baby.” She moaned and he grinned, “Shhhh. Or I’m gonna have to gag you.” He warned and her eyes rolled back. Her body shook with the thrusts of his fingers and she felt her toes start to curl as she rolled her head back and Harry leaned down against her ear and nibbled at her ear lobe, “Still my good girl?” He asked and she nodded, “Good. Want you to come for me then, baby.” She shuddered at his command, “Can you do that for me?” He asked and she nodded.

“Oh my god!” She gasped. Her breathing started to shallow as the fire in the pit of her stomach started to spread through her entire body. Her hips started thrusting up into his fingers and he groaned, “Good baby, fuck yourself on my fingers until you come.” He muttered and suddenly she froze and her breath hitched.

“Fuck Har-” her moan was muffled as he pulled her face into the crook of his neck. He panted through a soft laugh as he felt her legs trembling as she moaned into his neck as she came undone. He started to slow his pace gradually to help her ride it out and he removed his hand from the back of her head as she started breathing hard, letting her head rest back into the pillows. She swallowed thickly as she tried to breathe deeper and he rubbed the tip of his nose playfully against her own as he slowly withdrew his fingers from her.

“You OK, love?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yeah, just… recovering.” She smiled in satisfaction and he grinned, “Thank you for that. I’ve been missing out.” She panted before puckering her lips and he kissed her quickly.

“Anytime, baby. M’gonna get a taste, OK?” He said and she nodded, watching as he knelt upright and brought his cum-coated fingers to his lips and slipped them in. He groaned and shut his eyes as he cleaned off his fingers, “Gonna rush to the bathroom.” She nodded and he hurried out of the bed and quietly snuck out to the bathroom in the hallway that was all her own.

After a few moments he returned with a small towel in hand and he warned her that he was going to clean her up and she was shy about it, no one had ever done aftercare for her, but this was something else. He then helped her get her shorts back on before he settled into the bed. He backed into her and she spooned him and he hummed in comfort as her lips smooched a kiss on his shoulder.

“Still gonna hang out with me after work tomorrow right?” He asked her and she smiled.

“Yeah, of course.” She whispered and he smiled as he nuzzled further into her, “Night, H.”

“Night, baby.” He whispered.

——— Tag List ———

Sorry guys, always forget to add these in 🥲

@sunshinemoonsposts @anotherdudetteinthisworld @matildasatellite @sad-avocado @sunflovverharry @cherrysulewski @daphnesutton @gurugirl @angelqueen99 @slutfortigertattoo @jessitpwk

Lmk if you’d like to be added 😁

153 notes · View notes

cupid-styles · 2 months

Note

Oh fuck tattoorry piercing his girl’s nipples would be so hot specially with how much she loves humiliation that entire interaction would be so sexually charged

this took me FOREVER but I hope you enjoy!!!!

part of the tattoorry/plugrry world

word count: 3k

content warnings: piercings (mentions of needles), spicy but no smut

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

"Wait, you're being serious?"

Harry huffs out a laugh, sticking his chopsticks in the to-go container of veggie lo mein. "Of course I'm being serious. Why would I lie about that, dovie?"

His response, though not meant to make her feel bad, makes her shrug, a warm blush blooming over the expanse of her cheeks. She stuffs another bite of dumpling in her mouth, chewing it thoughtfully to save her from further embarrassment in front of her boyfriend.

"Don't feel bad," he murmurs, his large palm finding the space between her shoulders, rubbing her sweatshirt-clad skin comfortingly. Her eyes stay glued to the television in front of them, where they're watching the newest episode of Ru-Paul's Drag Race per Y/N's request. (She's never watched it before and Jo, the receptionist at St. Mark's Social, told her she had to. Y/N's been steadily binging it for weeks. Harry pretends like he doesn't love it, but he's secretly just as invested.)

"Dove, look at me," he sighs, placing his food on the coffee table. She does, positioning herself to face him and flittering her eyes up to his face. He looks tired, but they both are. It's been a long week of work and school — however, Y/N was able to get an interview for the bookstore on campus, which ended up causing her a lot of stress and anxiety. It ultimately went well and they said they'd be getting back to her soon. Even if it wasn't the bookstore she wanted to work at, it was still a source of income that would hopefully replenish some of her savings and help her pay rent and bills.

"I shouldn't have laughed, I'm sorry I did that," he says softly, "It's just a given to me, because of my work. Nipple piercings aren't otherworldly, like they probably are for you."

She shouldn't be nitpicking, but somehow that hurts just as badly. Sometimes, she feels like a child around Harry. It's as if he's lived a thousand lives in the adult world and she's just recently gotten to have a smidgen of those experiences.

"It's not otherworldly," she says the word like it's an insult, and Harry has to press his lips into a line so he doesn't laugh, "I just didn't know people got them."

Clearing his throat, he forces himself to put on his professional piercer-and-tattooer face, "Yeah. It's something that anyone can get and I've done a fair amount of them. Semi-painful in the moment with a long healing time. They can look good on the right person, though."

That causes her eyebrows to nearly shoot up to her forehead.

"What do you mean, the right person?"

"You're just a nosy little thing tonight, aren't you?" Harry fires back with a smirk. She goes to cower with deflated shoulders but he instantly makes a tsk-ing noise with his mouth, grabbing her hands to keep her close, "I just mean, like any piercing, it doesn't always look right on the person. Sometimes people get nose or eyebrow piercings and it's like, oh, that's fine. But sometimes it's as if their anatomy looks complete with the piercing — almost like it's meant to be there, if that makes sense."

It doesn't, but it only continues to pique her curiosity even more.

"What about me?"

"What about you?" Harry chuckles, using a hand to smooth her hair down.

"What piercings would look good on me?"

He smirks at her little game. She plays this sometimes, and he assumes it only comes from a place of true wonder. When they talked about the drugs he's done before, she asked which ones he think she'd like. (None, except maybe for weed, but she has to get her anxiety under control before she tries it.) They went over different styles of tattoos when Y/N was interested in his work, especially when he explained that his are just a hodgepodge of designs, some with meaning, some without. (He said she can get whatever she wants if she decides on something one day, but he's particularly partial to a little "H" on her bum.) And now, she wants to know what piercings would fit her.

"You can get whatever you'd like, dovie," he replies, "Just as long as I'm the one doing it."

She rolls her eyes and leans her shoulder against the plush of the couch cushion. "Yeah, but you're the professional, Harry! You know what would look best on me."

"Anything would, you're gorgeous."

"That's a cop-out answer and you know it!"

Harry laughs loudly and places his hands atop her shoulders, "Okay, okay. Let me think, dovie. I need to assess my client."

"Oh, you're being a professional now?"

"Shhhh!" he exclaims, and it only makes her laugh harder. He's already gone to that focused place, though, with wandering but fixated eyes and that small crinkle between his eyebrows. She feels bashful beneath his gaze, blinking her eyes as he analyzes her facial features. She's watched him work before, but for some reason, this in particular reminds her of the first time they met, when she sat in on him tattooing Mai. She remembers the way her stomach warmed and her core throbbed at his attuned facial expression, similar to how it is now.

"Okay," he murmurs. Slowly, he reaches up to gently tap at the side of her nose. "I think you'd look very pretty with a small nose piercing."

"Really?"

He nods. "Yes, but you're beautiful with or without, so it doesn't matter. Plus, I can't have my girlfriend looking cooler than me."

She's not surprised at the way he instantly returns to his teasing self, even if it's not exactly the answer she was fishing for. She watches as he leans forward to grab his carton of noodles. With her tongue peeking out to moisten her lips, she attempts to grab his attention again.

"What about...?" she glances down at her chest. Harry looks at her with a quirked eyebrow. Her form is currently swallowed up in a sweatshirt that's a few sizes too large, so she realizes she's not being entirely specific about what she's asking. "Like...?"

"Huh?"

She sighs frustratedly, "My boobs!"

"Oh," Harry's eyes widen, flickering down to her covered breasts, "You wanna know if you'd look good with nipple piercings?"

She nods, nibbling on her bottom lip. She watches at the cogs turn in his brain, his gaze meeting hers a moment later.

"Need to see 'em." he says decidedly.

She huffs out a chuckle as he helps her peel her sweatshirt off, leaving her in a comfortable bralette. It's pale pink and sheer, but with Harry's hands splayed across her ribs, he still pulls the fabric down. In an instant, her nipples are stiff and peaked from the cold air, and she's attempting not to feel sheepish underneath his intense eyes as they flicker between her breasts.

"I don't know why I'm even contemplating it," he says, though it's mainly to himself, "Of course you'd look hot with them. You're you."

He looks up at her with a goofy grin before pressing a kiss between them. She blushes.

"You think so?" she asks as her hand finds the back of his neck. He nods, eyes flickering closed when her fingertips play with the shorter, curly tendrils.

"Of course."

"Would you do it, then?"

Harry's eyes shoot open. "Wait, what? I thought we were just... talking, I didn't think you were being serious."

Y/N shrugs, "I dunno, I kind of like the idea of it."

"Dovie... you only have your ears pierced," he mumbles, sitting up and reaching to gently touch her ear lobes, "If this is something you'd seriously want, I'd want you to think about it for at least, maybe, a few days, not just 10 minutes."

"I've never done anything impulsive, though," Y/N says through a whine. He understands it, and his face crinkles some at her request. "You've gotten tattoos while you were drunk! O-or given stupid ones to yourself!"

"I know, baby," Harry coos, "But those were stupid decisions and I don't want you to make the same ones. You're so much better than that."

She sighs dejectedly. He presses a kiss to each of her cheeks, then to her nose.

"I get it, dove, really. And by all means, I'd rather you get an impulsive piercing than a tattoo. But the healing time is really long, and it is painful. I just don't want you to regret it or... or get mad at me, either."

Y/N's heart softens a bit, nodding her head as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth. "No, I understand."

"If you still want them in a few weeks or months, I'm more than happy to be the one to do it," he says softly, reaching down to give her hand a small squeeze. She perks up a little at that, and he smiles. "Just give it some more thought, okay?"

. . .

Harry really, truly thought Y/N would never mention the whole nipple piercing thing again.

It turns out, his girl is way more stubborn than he could have ever anticipated, because it's been four weeks since then and she still wants them.

In fact, she's currently sitting in his little work zone, where he tattoos and pierces other clients. Not his girlfriend.

"Are you sure?" he asks for the thousandth time. In the time since she first brought it up, she's done tons of research, including asking Harry just short of a million questions. He appreciated her enthusiasm towards education, but talking about nipple piercings as soon as he finished up work wasn't always ideal. Still, though, he made sure to entertain anything she had to ask, even catching her looking up different jewelry styles and what it looked like on different people.

And, as soon as Jo accidentally overheard Y/N talking to him about it, of course she offered to show her own. Harry wanted to bang his head into a wall as he listened to them excitedly chatter in the corner, right after one of his employees bared her entire chest to his girlfriend. It had to be some type of workplace violation, only Harry served as the closest thing to Human Resources at the shop — and, considering they sold weed on the side, he didn't think he had much of a case against Jo.

It just so happened that Y/N got out of classes early on Wednesday and Harry hung around the shop those days, making deals and doing boring business administration things. When she asked if she could come by to get her piercings done, he reluctantly said yes.

It wasn't that he didn't absolutely love the idea of it — he did, actually, and his mouth nearly watered at the imagery it created in his brain. What he did hate was the thought of causing his girl any kind of pain. He was still in the camp of being fearful that she'd get angry at him if she didn't end up liking it. But her excitement towards it never wavered, and he would never be one to tell her no.

"Yes, I'm sure," Y/N replies, wringing her hands together in her lap. "I'm nervous, though."

"That's normal, dovie. Just try your best to relax, it's only me."

She nods as he shuts the door to give them some privacy. He never does that with clients, but he wants to make sure he's making it as comfortable as a process as possible — and, maybe he's keen on ensuring no one else gets a peek.

He busies himself with sanitizing his tools, washing his hands, and eventually pulling a pair of latex gloves on. He wishes he could make it a more fun experience for her, but the whole thing is quite medical.

"You already picked your jewelry out, right?" he asks lowly. She nods her head as she watches on.

"Mhm. I sent you a picture of it last week."

"Right, these simple pink barbels, hm?"

The piercing jewelry she'd chosen were pretty spot on to Y/N's aesthetic of being uncomplicated and feminine. When he saw what she picked, he immediately told her that it would fit her perfectly.

"Alright, I'm gonna clean them and then we can get started. Still feeling good?"

She nods again.

"You gonna tell me if you're gonna pass out again, baby?"

She scowls, remembering back to fainting from her first ear piercing. The sour, twisted frown on her face makes him laugh.

"That's still so embarrassing." she mumbles. On the newly cleaned workspace, Harry shakes his head, placing the sanitized jewelry and piercing supples down on it.

"Not embarrassing. Cute, actually," he corrects, peeling his gloves off. "Okay. I'm gonna help position you, is that okay?"

"Do you do that for every client?"

He narrows his eyes at her playfully, "No, you jealous little fiend."

She pulls her sweater off, revealing a pale blue baby tee. He swallows as she lays back on the extended table, taking a deep breath to surely calm her nerves. He gently squeezes her wrist, hovering over her form as she gets comfortable. When she shoots him a small nod, he smiles, flipping her shirt up.

"Okay, baby," he says, smoothing his hand over her stomach, "I'm sure you read this in your... insane amount of research—"

"Not insane."

He nods curtly, "Right, not insane," he quickly corrects. "Anyway, your nipples have to be hard for this. It helps with the placement."

She issues another silent nod his way but doesn't move to do anything. With a small smile, he gently cups her breast.

"Do you want me to?" he asks, his tone dropping lowly. She's not quite sure what he's even asking to do, but she still provides an affirmative answer. It's not a second more before he's latched his lips around her nipple, her eyes fluttering back from the sucking sensation. It's messy, the way he alternates between each one so they're swollen with his spit, and her fingers find his long curls, tugging at them gently to press him closer to her chest.

It feels like he's gone far too quickly, plushy, wet lips pressing a quick kiss to the valley between her breasts as he examines his work. Her mouth parts as she watches him bite his lip.

"You're good," he pants out, though he takes a moment to adjust the growing bulge in his pants, "Need to... put gloves back on."

They're both a bit lust-driven now, but Harry's quick to meld back into his professional persona after snapping a clean pair of gloves on his hands. Y/N swallows as he analyzes her, feeling squeamish beneath his eyes. Wordlessly, he grabs a marker and places two dots on either of her nipples.

"That's just for the placement," he explains, grabbing a mirror so she can look at where the jewelry would sit, "What do you think?"

Truthfully, they could have been completely wonky and Y/N wouldn't have noticed, let alone say anything. She trusts Harry implicitly, even if she still feels a bit hazy from the welcomed assault on her stiffened breasts.

"Good." she says with a nod, glancing up at him, "Looks good."

"Alright, baby," he replies. He turns to get the clean piercing needle from his rolling tray. "I'm gonna count down from three. I want you to close your eyes and inhale on three, then exhale on one. We'll take a short break after the first one, and then I'll do the second. Does that sound okay?"

"Mhm," she mumbles, nervously biting her lip. "Just do it, please. 'm gonna lose my nerve."

He chuckles and nods, instructing her to keep her eyes closed as he situates himself over her.

"Okay. Three— there you go, dovie, big, deep breath— two, one."

She immediately winces from the sharp bite of pain, a noisy gasp falling from her lips. Harry silently cringes to himself — not because the piercing isn't perfect, but because he absolutely hates knowing he's the reason why she's in pain right now.

"Keep your eyes closed, baby," he murmurs as he fits the jewelry through the first piercing, "Good girl. You're doing so good for me, hm? My strong baby."

She swallows harshly, hands balled into fists at her side. It's painful, that much is true, and she's beyond grateful when he finally finishes screwing the jewelry into place. She lets out a shaky breath and Harry coos, taking one of his gloves off to thumb her tears away.

"Was that okay, dovie?" he asks worriedly, "We can always save the second for another day."

Y/N quickly shakes her head, "No, no. Just do the other one now, otherwise I'll never have you do it."

Harry repeats the process on the other side. The pain is just as bad, tears continuing to cloud Y/N's vision and roll down her cheeks despite her keeping her eyes squeezed close. He shushes her softly throughout it, his heart tugging. Once he's finished, he's quick to wash his hands, listening to her quiet sniffles.

"I know baby, I know," he mumbles. He crosses the room as soon as he's done, sitting down next to her and brushing her hair back, "You did so good, you know that? 's all done, dovie, you're done."

She sniffs, batting her wet eyelashes up at him. "'s done?"

"Yeah, sweetheart." he says with a small, crooked smile. "You were so good. Took it like a champ."

"I didn't, I cried the whole time."

He chuckles and leans down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Do you wanna see them?"

She nods, nibbling on her bottom lip as he stands to grab the handheld mirror. He helps her slowly sit up, hinging at the waist. He holds it up to her chest, both pairs of their eyes staring at her swollen breasts. His eyes flitter to her face to gauge her expression, scared that she hates them.

"Wait," she mutters, cocking her head to the side, "Wait... they're kind of hot."

Relief floods Harry's system and he smirks. "You think so?"

"Yeah," she nods, sitting up on her knees, "I know they're kinda puffy right now but... I think I like them. A lot."

Harry swallows harshly, dropping the mirror on his chair. Suddenly, he's surging towards her and taking her cheeks between his large palms, smushing their lips together like his life depends on it. It takes her entirely by surprise, and it's hurried and hot and desperate, so much so that she's panting into his mouth and gripping at his black tee-shirt.

When he finally breaks their kiss, strings of spit still connecting their mouths, he keeps his forehead pressed against hers. Again, he glances down to get another look at her chest.

"I love you so fucking much," are the only words he can utter out before he's pulling her jeans down to bury his head between her legs.

1K notes · View notes

lemoncrushh · 24 days

Text

Tattooed Heart - Part II

SUMMARY: You are a cocktail waitress at a swanky lounge. Harry comes in one night, and you instantly dislike him. But another encounter eventually changes your opinion.

PAIRING: Waitress Y/N x Artist/Tattoo Artist Harry

TROPES: Enemies to Lovers

MUST BE 18+ TO READ

WORD COUNT: 3799

STORY PAGE

The pavement was wet from the rain as you stepped onto the curb. You cursed yourself for wearing your best shoes, knowing you’d have blisters by the time you got home. Looking up at the sky, you noticed the rain had let up, so you quickly shut your umbrella, eyeing the cafe in front of you. The HELP WANTED sign in the window caught your attention. With a sigh, you pulled open the door. If you couldn’t find a job today, at least you could dry off with a latte and a muffin.

“What can I get you?” asked the woman behind the counter.

“Yes, I saw your sign up front? What’s the job?”

The older man who had his back to you called out, “You got experience?”

“Uh, yes sir, if you mean waiting tables.”

The man turned around, his face expressionless. “What about cash register?”

“Yes, sir, I’ve done that too. All kinds of retail and customer service.”

“Any days you aren’t available? I need weekends.”

“Yes, sir. I mean…no sir, I’m free everyday.”

“Good. Fill this out.” The man reached behind the counter and pulled out an application, then grabbed a pen from a nearby jar, handing them both to you.

“Thank you,” you grinned. “Oh. And can I get a vanilla latte and a blueberry muffin?”

After paying for your order, you sat down at the nearest table to begin filling out the application. You were nearly halfway through it when a shadow fell over your paper and you heard a familiar voice.

“I don’t believe it.”

Looking up, you saw him standing next to the counter. He wore a black hoodie and shorts, his windblown hair pushed back by sunglasses.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, gripping the pen tightly. If it had been a pencil, it would have snapped. “What are you doing here?”

“Um…it’s a cafe. I’m getting coffee.”

Pursing your lips, you shifted your chair so you were facing away from him. You heard him order a flat white before his sneakered feet squeaked past you to a table by the window. You grimaced as you watched him open his backpack and pull out a laptop.

“Here you are ma’am,” said the woman who had been behind the counter.

“Thank you,” you smiled up at her as she set your coffee and muffin on the table. Then she walked over to Harry, serving him his order.

“I can’t believe this,” you mumbled to yourself, knowing he had no plans to leave any time soon.

Trying your best to concentrate, you managed to get to the last page of the application before raising your head to find Harry staring at you.

“Do you mind?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“Looking for a job?”

You couldn’t tell if he was being facetious or genuine.

“What do you care?” you grumbled.

“I…” he began before changing his mind with a shrug. Then he took a sip of his coffee and returned his attention to his computer.

Signing your name at the bottom of the application, you rose from your chair to turn it in.

“Why’d you leave your last job?” asked the man after he scanned your paper.

Your stomach went sour, your throat closing up. You’d dreaded that question all day. Seemed no one wanted to give a smart-mouth cocktail waitress a second chance.

“It just…wasn’t the right fit for me,” you replied.

“After two years? Zelda’s huh? That some fancy joint?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you think this coffee shop is a better fit?” the man chuckled.

“I don’t know. But I’d like the chance to try.”

Hesitating, the man shrugged. “I’m gonna need a good reference. Is it alright to call your last employer?”

“Oh. Uh…” You thought you might throw up. “I don’t-”

“I can vouch for her, Stan.”

You swung around, incredulous to what you’d just heard. He was vouching for you?

“You know this young lady, Harry?” asked Stan.

“Yeah.” Harry stood up and walked over to you. “Celebrated my birthday at Zelda’s, and she was my waitress.”

“Oh?”

Harry looked you straight in the eye and said, “She was brilliant. Best waitress I ever had.”

If your knees hadn’t just about buckled then, you might have noticed your jaw dropping. What?!

“Well, that’s good enough for me,” offered Stan. “Tell you what. Come back tomorrow. Ten o’clock. We’ll see if it’s a good fit.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Did Harry just help you get a job?

“Thank you,” you let out a breath and quickly beamed at Stan. “See you then.”

Although he remained standing near your table, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at Harry as you gathered your things, gulping down the last of your coffee. Then swinging your purse over your shoulder, you turned for the exit.

“Y/N,” you heard him say, but rather than make the situation more awkward, you merely muttered a quick thanks.

It wasn’t until you were out the door that you heard him call you again, this time louder.

“Y/N!”

With a deep sigh, you stopped walking. Harry caught up to you, something of yours in his hand.

“You forgot your umbrella,” he explained.

“Oh. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

As you took it from him, your hands brushed, sending an unexpected electric current through your skin. You finally looked at him then, his eyes sincere. For the first time, you noticed they were a light green, a darker circle lining the irises. The wind whipped around you, and you caught a whiff of his…cologne? Perhaps it was just soap or some kind of body wash. Either way, he smelled nice. Clean. Like he’d just showered, though he’d skipped the shave. You noted the facial hair on his top lip and along his jaw, and found yourself wondering how many unshaven days it took to grow.

Suddenly, you stepped back, worried that you’d been staring and that he’d noticed. Surely, he’d noticed.

“Um…good luck tomorrow,” you heard him say as you pretended to check for something in your bag.

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.” Why was he being so nice?

“Well…see ya,” he gave a slight gesture of his hand before turning back toward the cafe.

“Harry?” you called after him.

“Yeah?”

You took two steps closer to him, but careful to still keep a distance.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why…did you do that?”

Harry shrugged as though the answer were simple. “I caused you to lose your last job. So I helped you get a new one.”

Unable to respond, you stood still as you watched him reenter the cafe, feeling completely bewildered.

You sat in the small room in the back of the cafe during your break, sipping on a nitro cold brew that your co-worker Jill had taught you how to make. It was only your third day, but so far you liked working there. It definitely wasn’t Zelda’s, but it was better than nothing. The clientele was different to say the least, but you were enjoying the somewhat pleasant and low-key atmosphere.

Stan, the manager, had seemed to take you under his wing. You wondered if it had to do with Harry, and what exactly his relationship was to him. You assumed he was a regular customer at the cafe, though you hadn’t seen him return since you started working there.

As you scrolled through your phone, you suddenly got a text message from Shae.

Look who’s having a special this weekend.

Underneath was a link to Fine Line Ink’s Instagram page. You’d told your roommate about the entire encounter with Harry and how he’d basically helped you get your new job. Shae had wondered why on earth you hadn’t just kissed him right there in the middle of the cafe, but she always was a bit dramatic.

The truth was, you didn’t know how to feel about Harry anymore. Your head told yourself you still hated him, that he was a dick who was feeling guilty and needed to cleanse his aura. But your gut told you that he was something more than that. That he truly was sorry for getting you fired, and wanted to make amends.

You scrolled through the photos on the Instagram page, beautiful and striking images of ink on skin. Everything from delicate bracelet tats to full back tattoos and sleeves, some in basic black ink, and some in a rainbow of colors. They were all exquisite. He truly was a good tattoo artist.

Checking the time on your phone, you realized your break was over. Tossing your phone in your bag, you returned them to your locker. After a quick stop to the restroom, you stepped out into the cafe to find him sitting at the same table as before, beside the window. This time, however, he didn’t have his laptop, but rather an iPad, a stylus pencil in his hand. Jill had just set down his flat white when she gasped.

“Wow, that’s gorgeous!” she exclaimed. Then looking up, she saw you. “Y/N, c’mere, you have to see this!”

You shuffled hesitantly over to Harry’s table where he sat with his back to you. Gazing over his shoulder, you saw that he had drawn a raven. The detail was so intricate, down to the branches, flowers and moon. You almost felt as though if you were to reach out and touch the drawing, you could feel the bird’s feathers.

“Isn’t it amazing?” asked Jill.

“Stunning,” you breathed.

“He’s a tattoo artist. I keep telling him I’m gonna come get a tattoo from him, but I’m too chicken,” Jill laughed as she made her way back to the counter.

A couple at a corner table got up to leave then, so you quickly walked over to clean it. As you moved the sugar container, you heard your name. You looked up at him quizzically, though you didn’t say a word.

“How’s the job going so far?” he asked.

“It’s good,” you nodded sharply.

“I’m glad. I come here at least twice a week. Have been for a long time. Stan and Carol are good people.”

“Yeah…I…I can tell.” Carol, you’d learned the other day, was the woman who had been behind the counter when you’d walked in. She was Stan’s wife.

The door opened then and a young woman entered. You secretly hoped you could go help her as an excuse to stop talking to Harry, but Jill beat you to it.

“Do you…need another coffee?” you asked him as he lifted his cup.

He gave you a smirk. “Just got this one.”

“Oh. Right. Anything else?”

“No, I’m good.” Taking a slow sip, he watched you over his cup.

You gave a curt nod before returning to the counter. It was a fairly slow afternoon, and other than a handful of customers who came and went with their coffees to go, you didn’t have much to do. Jill continued to train you on a few more things, and you were grateful for the distraction. Because even though he wasn’t doing anything other than drawing on his iPad and sipping his coffee, Harry��s presence was getting to you.

Making the rounds, you refilled napkin dispensers and Sweet & Low packets, all while sneaking looks at what Harry was drawing. You didn’t know why it even mattered to you, but something about his art was captivating. You watched as his pencil glided across the screen, how he’d sometimes use his thumb and forefinger to zoom in and out. Once, you caught a view of a scene he was drawing - not just one focal point, but rather a series of buildings along a city street, nightfall in the background. Each building had various windows lit up, as well as street lamps. If you hadn’t known better, you’d have thought it was a photograph.

Sometime in the process, you finally took notice of his fingers, how long and slender they were. You paid attention to the way they moved and flexed as he drew, and most importantly, how nearly each one was adorned with some kind of ring. Lost in thought, you almost missed it when he lifted his head to look at you.

“It’s so easy to watch him, isn’t it?” remarked Jill, saving you from embarrassment as she stood next to you. “Sometimes I forget where I am!”

Clearing your throat, you grabbed the rag you were cleaning with and stuffed it in your apron. Then as you finished with the last napkin dispenser, you caught a small smile curling on Harry’s mouth.

Finally, an hour later - an hour and eleven minutes to be exact - Harry slipped his iPad into his backpack and zipped it shut. Pretending to busy yourself behind the muffins, you watched as he slipped his arms through. Then shoving his hand in his pocket, he pulled out his wallet, grabbing a couple of bills and leaving them on the table. As he made his way toward the door, he gave a small wave.

“Goodnight, ladies,” he said.

“Bye, Harry,” Jill called. As soon as he was outside, she slumped against the counter. “Oh my God, I hate when he’s here. I can hardly function!”

Holding back a chuckle, you asked, “Does he just come here to draw?”

“Mostly, yeah. Or sometimes he works on his website. He doesn’t just do tattoos. Like, that’s his livelihood and he’s really good at it. But he’s like…a legit artist.”

“Oh,” you sounded. “You mean, like in a gallery?”

“Mmhmm. I think he had some sort of exhibit a few weeks ago. It’s on his website if you wanna check it out. Harry Styles art dot com.”

Huh. So there was more to Harry than just some drunk prick at a bar. You were anxious to get your phone and look up his website.

“Oh my God!” Jill gasped from the table Harry had just left.

“What?”

“Harry usually just leaves a couple bucks for tip. He left two twenties!”

“Seriously?” you asked, rounding the counter. Why would he do that? “He only had one coffee, right?”

“Yep. What a sweetie! Here!”

Jill handed you one of the twenties, but you shook your head. “But I didn’t wait on him.”

“Doesn’t matter. We split tips at the end of the night anyway. This saves us time.”

Taking the bill, you mentally added one more reason to your list of why this Harry Styles was more than he seemed. Mysteriously generous. Was it a good thing? Or did he have an angle?

You didn’t know. But you were determined to find out.

Shae had a date. For the first time in forever, you had a Friday night off. It was weird, being in the apartment alone on a weekend night. After making a quick, easy meal and watching a couple of episodes of SVU, you were bored. You thought about visiting your old pal John at Zelda’s, but you didn’t wanna take the chance of running into your former boss.

Tapping on your phone, you opened the last website you’d visited - Harry Styles art dot com. Over the last twenty-four hours, you’d opened it at least half a dozen times. Displayed on the main page were photos from an art exhibit in January, the one that Jill had mentioned. While the art itself had no doubt been exquisite, your eyes kept veering to the photos of the artist. He stood in a suit, much like the one he’d worn at Zelda’a. In fact, he looked very similar to the way he had that night, the main exception being that he didn’t appear to be drunk, nor was he frowning. On the contrary, he was smiling in nearly every photograph. You noted the dimples in his cheeks, the crinkles beside his eyes when he smiled, the five o’clock shadow. Even you had to admit - albeit secretly - he was a very handsome man.

As you had scrolled through the various pictures from that night, you soon came across a handful of him standing next to a woman in a long, champagne colored dress that fit her curves, her hair pulled back in a tight bun. Taking a closer look, you recognized her as the girl at the bar, the one whose ear was attached to Harry’s tongue.

Nicolette.

For some reason you felt a twinge in your stomach. Jealously? Shaking your head free of the notion, you continued to peruse the website. Eventually you came to a link that brought you to the site for Fine Line Ink. There you saw the announcement at the top, advertising thirty percent off all tattoos, and forty percent off body piercing, just like the text Shae had sent you the day before.

Setting down your phone, you thought for a moment. You figured he’d be pretty busy on any Friday, but particularly this Friday with the special. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea, but somehow you found yourself driving to Fine Line Ink anyway.

The familiar fragrance of incense wafted through your nostrils as soon as you opened the door. Classic rock seemed to be the genre of choice for the evening as Aerosmith pumped through the speakers. You were right in assuming the shop would be busy, as three other customers sat in the waiting area, filling out their forms.

“Hi, how can I help you?” asked a guy who emerged from the back.

“Yeah, um…I don’t really know yet,” you replied. “I just need to talk to Harry…for a second.”

“Oh. Well, he’s in the middle of a tattoo right now.”

“That’s okay,” you grinned. “I can wait.”

“You sure? It may be a while, and he’s pretty booked up. We have other artists who can h-”

“It’s fine,” you held up your hand. “Seriously. I just need to talk to him when he has a minute.”

“O-okay.”

When the guy shuffled away, you took a seat in the waiting area. You scanned the walls, various artwork adorning them until you spotted a large drawing of the Beatles. Had that been there before? Had Harry drawn it? It was really good, the artistic detail spot on.

You watched another man say goodbye to a customer and then bring another one to the back before Harry finally made his way to the front. To call the look on his face surprised when he saw you would have been an understatement. As he chatted a bit with the client he’d just finished, you suddenly felt butterflies in your stomach.

“Hey,” he said when the guy left. “Kyle said someone was waiting to talk to me. I didn’t know it was you.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you let the words slip from your lips.

Harry shook his head, blinking slowly. “That’s not what I meant.”

You exhaled, hoping your quick response hadn’t offended him. Your reflexes were still on alert. Addressing the other customer who sat next to you, Harry smiled.

“I’ll be right with you, Carlo.”

“Yeah, no problem, man.”

Carlo and Harry both looked at you as Harry gave a tiny grin. “Wanna come back?”

Rising from your chair, you followed Harry through the shop, to the very back where he pushed open a door.

“Come on in,” he gestured.

As he shut the door behind you, you noted the desk in the corner, more artwork on the walls, and bookshelves. Pulling out a chair, Harry asked you to sit.

“Everything going well at the cafe?” he asked you.

“Oh, yeah. It’s fine. Actually, that’s what I came to talk to you about.”

“Yeah?” Harry leaned against his desk, his arms crossed. You noticed how tall he seemed standing while you sat.

“Yes,” you cleared your throat. “I realized I never properly thanked you…for helping me get the job.”

His lips twitched as he held back a smile. Or perhaps a smirk. “Alright.”

With a sigh, you looked up at him. “I’m afraid I haven’t acted very grateful. I let my pride and my ego get in the way when you-”

“Y/N,” Harry interrupted. “It’s okay. You have every right to hate me. Still. I said what I did to Stan because I regretted the way I treated you. You didn’t deserve any of it. It was…the only way I knew to make it up to you.”

“Okay…” you swallowed. “Still…thank you.”

“You’re welcome. But…”

“But what?”

Harry shrugged. “I reckon I should have tried to get you your job back at Zelda’s.”

You smiled, looking down at your hands. “It’s fine.”

“Really? ‘Cause…you can’t possibly be making the tips at the cafe.”

Biting your lip, you lifted your head. “Thanks for that, too, by the way.”

“What?”

“The extra tip yesterday.”

“Who said that was for you?” Harry teased with a smirk.

You couldn’t hide your chuckle.

“Listen…” he continued, placing his hand over his chest. “I feel bad. I was honest when I said that wasn’t me that night.”

You nodded, sliding your palms across your thighs. Were you sweating?

“You’re an artist,” you commented.

“I am.”

“I saw your website. You do beautiful work.”

“Thank you,” Harry grinned.

“I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.”

Shaking his head again, Harry pulled his chair in front of you and sat down. Then leaning towards you, he seemed to study your face.

“I gave you plenty of reasons to jump to conclusions about me. Can we start over?”

“Start over? What do you mean?”

His dimples dipping in his cheeks, Harry held out his hand. “Hi. I’m Harry Styles.”

Mimicking his grin, you gently shook his hand. “Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m really excited to get to know you better.”

“Really?” you blushed.

“Yes. Do you work tomorrow?”

“I have a morning shift.”

“How about dinner?”

“No, I don’t work the dinner shift,” you shook your head.

Harry threw his head back laughing, startling you. His cackle rang through the office, vibrating every pulse in your body. What was happening? How did this guy suddenly have this effect on you?

“That’s not what I meant, love.”

“Oh,” you blushed again. Damn it.

“Will you have dinner with me tomorrow?”

“Oh.” Oh! “Um…you don’t work here tomorrow?”

“Nope. My night off.”

Though you tried your best to fight it, you couldn’t hold back the smile that spread across your face. “Yeah. I guess I can do that.”

After settling the plans for the next evening, Harry walked you out to the front where Carlo sat patiently waiting.

“By the way,” said Harry. “What happened with your friend? The one who wanted the tattoo.”

Biting the inside of your lip, you hesitated. “She um…went somewhere else.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Don’t be so disappointed, Harry,” you chuckled. “You forgot one thing.”

“What’s that?” he asked, holding the door open for you.

“I haven’t gotten mine yet.”

FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED

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jarofstyles · 1 month

Text

Ultramarine- Indigo 7

Hello! Here is a cute part of Indigo, I'm sorry she's a slow burn but I really love them so I don't wanna rush them <3

Check out Patreon for early access to the next part and 150+ Exclusive writings

Indigo Masterlist

WC- 2.8k

Warnings- mention of trauma and bullying (brief) and sexual tension ;)

----------------

Y/N was grabbing lunch with him.

Harry’s hand ached, the 5 hour session being particularly grueling regardless of how used his muscles were to the gun. He used arthritic cream on it and his wrist as he took a break in his office, finally checking his phone. As impressed as he was with the woman who had come and sat for 5 hours, he’d wished she wanted a break when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. H was giddy and anxious to see what Y/N was saying- she was the only one who texted him during the day besides Niall with stupid tiktok links and his Mum sending photos of her cats.

When he’d opened it up to see her question, he didn’t hesitate to agree. It didn’t matter if he hurt, he wanted to take any excuse he could to see her.

Y/N; Hiiii! I know this is super last minute so do not be afraid to say no but did you want to grab lunch at around 2:30?

H: Absolutely I do. Sorry for the late reply, I was finishing a tattoo. It isn’t too late to say yes, is it?

Y/N: Oh, amazing :) And no, not too late. I’m kind of bored today, I finished a project and told myself I needed to relax but… I feel restless and I missed you a little bit.

Harry felt himself flush at her response, knowing if anyone saw him at this moment they wouldn't recognize him. His smile was wide and face as pink as he collected himself, grateful that he was in his own office so he could freely feel.

H: Only a little bit? X

Y/N: Well if I said I missed you a lot I’d be a weirdo, wouldn't I? We just saw each other.

H: Well call me a weirdo too then, I suppose. Because I did.

H: A lot, if you couldn’t tell.

Y/N: You are very cute. I’ll be there in a few :)

—-

“Yeah, it’s kinda fucked.” Harry sighed as Y/N took his hand into her own from across the little table. “Usually I love a long session but I’ve been doing them a few days in a row. S’my own fault, but I was hoping for a tap out for once.” He laughed through his nose before it turned into a groan, feeling small thumbs begin to rub over his palm. Y/N pouted ever so lightly, moving in slow circles on the skin and digging in slightly before meeting his eye.

“You’ve got to take care of yourself.” The scold was lighthearted but he could see it on her face. She meant it. It made his chest flutter a little that she cared enough to do that. He was used to basically being on his own, mostly by choice but because it was easy for people to fake concern to get gossip- but he knew Y/N meant it. Her gentle massage on his hand, trying to ease his aching was a nice touch. Her half-drunk smoothie was in front of her, leaving her fingers cool to the touch and another nice addition to the soothing touch. “Shouldn’t wait for them to tap out. You should schedule them in smaller increments so you don’t put too much strain on your poor hands.” Y/N’s eyes met him for a moment before looking away. “They’re too pretty to be hurting.”

He had been surprised by the gall, if he was honest. Y/N had been a bit more shy when coming to this sort of thing but he was mentally preening, not able to hide the smile curling on his lips as he flexed his hand in her grasp. “Yeah? Think I’ve got pretty hands?” He hummed. “Got a bunch of calluses. Some scars. My nail polish is chipped.” Was he fishing for a compliment? A little bit. He wanted a few of them, especially when she had seemed to like his best tools.

“Of course. Just shows you work with your hands, know how to use them.” She stated. “It’s something a lot of people don’t know how to do anymore. The scars add character, and the nail polish is cute. It can always be redone.” She flipped his hand over but continued the slight massage, looking at his long, nimble fingers stretched over her wrists. He had a few rings on them which she knew he took off while tattooing, his fabric bracelets slightly worn besides the silver cuff on the non tattooed wrist. Harry liked to decorate his body and that was obvious. He’d told her he sometimes struggled with expression verbally, so she had a hunch that he used this to express himself. “And I also love the eyeliner thing. It’s attractive too.”

She tacked on the compliment and his smile grew into a grin, shaking his head as he squeezed over her hands with a laugh. “Laying on all the compliments today, yeah? D’want something from me?” All she had to do was ask. The shivers in his body made him more than willing to hand shit over on a silver platter. His eyeliner had been a few years ongoing, a simple charcoal pencil smudging around his eyes. Apparently it brought out the green even more and he did have a few colors. Perhaps one day Y/N would want to do it for him.

“No, no. Just figure people don’t do it as often as they should.” She sighed, dropping one of his hands to take a sip of her smoothie. The contact felt good. Especially since he kept a grip on her hand and swiped his thumb over the back of hers, the gentleness a stark contrast to the chain around his neck, metal on his face and ink on his skin. He was the opposite of what someone would expect, and somehow that made Y/N yearn for even more of him.

“Well.. Thanks. But I’d prefer you to be the one doing the compliments. I know you’re not full of shit.” His smirk made her scoff but she merely continued sipping before moving on. Surely many people meant the compliments they gave him but she knew that he wouldn’t believe them regardless. That was the thing about growing up with that sort of trauma. When you were bullied growing up, seen as a butt of a joke, it was harder to accept people’s genuine kindness. It saddened her immensely, but this wasn’t the place to unpack that.

“You’d have to be dead to not see how attractive you are, H. But I don’t want to give you too much of an ego boost or you’ll leave me in the dust.” Her foot nudged him under the table. “I wanted to ask if you wanted to come over this weekend? I was thinking of trying out a few cookie recipes and I need a baking assistant- or at the very least, a taste tester.” She offered, trying to hide her nerves. They were at a weird crossroads of developing relationships. Not official, not exactly fully comfortable enough to be shooting plans the day of but still craving their company quite strongly. They weren’t seeing anyone else, at least she hoped so, but they didn’t have a label.

“Are you kidding?” He barked out a laugh. “Of fucking course I do. Used to help my nan back in the day in the kitchen. Christmas breads and sweets galore. You’ve got an old pro on your hands.” Was he vastly overvaluing his kitchen skills? A bit. He knew his way around decently enough, but he wanted to get that smile on her face- which succeeded.

“Oh, lovely.” She chirped. “Then yes, I’d love for you to come over. We’ll get something to eat because m’not sure either of us are going to want to be in the kitchen for more than the cookies.” He watched her nose wrinkle making his heart skip a beat. There were tiny Y/N mannerisms he wanted to get to know. This one in particular he found to be stupidly cute, each time it happened making him smile internally.

“Mhm. I understand. We’ve got a kitchen quota we don’t want to max out.”

—

“Where do you think you’re going?” A hand on her waist stopped her from taking another step further, Y/N grinning to herself as she paused in her step. She had done it just to see what Harry would do, and so far she had been correct. Her hopes had been granted.

“Hm? Home.” She grinned up at him, eyes not able to hide the mischief in them as she moved back towards him. “Is there a problem?”

“I think we need to establish a few things.” His voice dropped, crowding her back against her car. Y/N had started this but felt the air get sucked from her lungs as her back pressed agaisnt the cold metal of her door, eyes widening slightly as she was peering up at him with far less smugness as before. “I don’t like leaving without a proper goodbye, hm? And you know what I’m missing, yeah Darling?” of course she did. She had been aching for it just as badly, the tiny one she got in greeting not even half of the one she needed now, but she wanted to make him work for it a little bit.

“What’s that?” She hummed, biting her lower lip to try and control the grin threatening to break out on her face. The uncontrollable urge to giggle as he seemed to clock the look on her face, shaking his head at her and clicking his tongue while tilting her head up to meet him. It was the closest she could get to a swoon, sure there were little hearts in her pupils as he tapped the bottom of her lip and tugged it from her teeth.

Christ.

“I think you know.” He muttered. “Cruel, cruel little angel. What d’want from me, hm? Do you want me to beg?” His eyes scanned her face. “M’not one to get on my knees for that reason, but I think I could do so for you.”

Y/N’s knees felt weak as he pinned her with his stare, a quivering in her stomach making her blink rapidly at him. Get on his knees? She could only imagine what he did on his knees and the image of him peering up at her with his mouth tucked between her thighs and her knee over his shoulder, working to get his tongue up inside her made her feel hot all over. The mental image was precisely his goal, she found, as his grin rose back and morphed into a smirk as she barely held back a whimper when her lip was stroked by the thumb in question. She had played with the lion as a sweet little lamb, and found herself right in his jaws.

“N-No. Don’t have to beg, but I think it would be cute.” She cursed internally at the stutter, showing her weakness front and center as his face got a bit closer to hers, nose brushing the bridge of hers before moving down to the tip. Being this close made her dizzy, the sweet spice of his cologne and the mint of his gum overwhelming her. The man trapped her against her car, getting closer than she had been to a man in public, but she was pathetic. Internally she was gagging for it, tilting her head up to try and catch his mouth-

Only for him to pull back just enough to miss. A spark in his eye made her want to stomp her foot, the man teasing her more than she had anticipated. Y/N had tried to get the upper hand but it was obvious that the more comfortable he got, the more power he would wield with her. She had been a bit of a fool for thinking that a man like him wouldn’t turn this over, but she had felt like trying her luck.

“Cute? Think it would be cute?” He muttered under his breath. “Well, I’m glad you think so. But I know what this is, little angel. Prettiest little Sunflower, trying to tease me.” Realistically, Harry knew she hadn’t a clue about the true power she had over him, but he would let that remain a secret for a bit longer. “What I meant, by a proper goodbye… Is that I’d like to feel these pretty lips before you leave me.” There was an audible hitch in her throat, making him hold back the smile, ghosting his lips against hers. “You did something to me… m’convinced. Put a spell in your lipgloss or somethin’ like that. Made me crave it. I’m more of a gentleman these days, because the first thing I wanted to do was lick into this pretty little mouth when I saw you today. I controlled it, but I can tell it’ll be a problem later on down the line. I need something sweet to hold me over, y’feel me, doll?” He tapped her lip with his thumb, gently tugging it down before it snapped back up.

Y/N could barely breathe. Sometimes, she found, Harry had these bursts of being pure sex appeal. It was broken up by cute, soft and shy boy, but when he got in this sort of mood she found it hard to keep her vision from swimming. A floaty feeling, making her swallow thickly and nod in a jerking motion as she tried to get up on her tiptoes to catch his lips only to be deprived again. This time she did make a noise of frustration, brows furrowing as she looked at his hooded eyes. It wasn’t fair!

“Oh, m’sorry Sunflower. Couldn’t let you have it that easy when you were about t’leave me without a kiss. Got a mean streak in you, but I’ll take it. You’re sweet and tart, like a Cherry.” He laughed, leading her arm to loop over his neck. “If you’re good to me, I’ll be good to you. Give you what you want, maybe even more.” She was rewarded, finally, with a tiny kiss to her pout before pulling back. “But if you want to play games… You’ve gotta remember that m’a nasty competitor.”

Y/N could believe it. Harry oozed ‘win or nothing’ energy and she had tested it now, feeling how quickly she was going to fold. That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to test this out when she had more resolve, but she had felt similarly to him the whole time. She wanted him just as badly, and playing with fire wasn’t cutting it right now. The only burn she wanted from him was a big of beard burn between her thighs. “M’sorry.” She whispered. “I’ll be sweet.”

“I heard a silent ‘for now’ after that, but that’s good enough for me.” He rewarded her heavily. Kissing her fully, capturing her lips between his own and pulling her into him as he did so. Harry kissed just how he looked. Intense, hot. She let out a little noise feeling his tongue brush past and the cool metal of his tongue piercing hit hers. It was another reminder of how he would definitely be one to blow her mind when he got on his knees for her, because Harry didn’t seem like the type to do anything half assed. He had the ability to make her feel like she was boiling inside and the only thing that could cool her down was his touch.

It was over too quickly, her thighs clenching together hard as she looked at him with bleary eyes. His face was self assured, a little smug and she was trying to recover. A squeeze was given to her chin, making her clear her vision as she was left a little unsatisfied. But would she ever really be truly satisfied when he took away his mouth? She could kiss him for hours and still feel like she wanted more. Their date was proof of that.

“See? I can be sweet when you are. Rewards.” His confidence blew her away, barely able to recover when he pressed another firm kiss to her mouth without giving her time to react. “Now go on and go get some supplies for our cookies, yeah? Text me when you’re there and when you’re home safe. I’ve got another two appointments.” He wished he could cancel them and just go with her but he didn’t want the rep, and also didn’t want to cling to her. As tempting as it may be, he wanted to start this right.

Y/N’s kiss still tingled on his lips as she drove away. He knew he was deep in the inky indigo waters of infatuation, but he didn’t think that was a bad thing. He’d learn to breathe underwater.

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