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[cinnamonone]

This is going to just be amazing. I can feel it. So fucking good. Educational soft Dom should be a identified kink

Sex Tutor

Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.

A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!

Word Count: 10k

Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink

. . .

“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”

That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough

You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.

So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.

“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”

“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.

“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”

You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”

Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.

“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.

“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”

You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.

And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.

Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.

Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.

You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.

Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.

Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.

Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.

You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.

Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.

You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.

Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.

You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.

He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”

You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.

When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.

He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”

Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.

You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.

“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”

He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”

Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.

“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.

Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”

You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.

“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”

He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”

You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”

He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”

You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”

“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”

You nodded again.

Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”

“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well…” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”

He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.

But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.

Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.

And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…

You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”

“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.

“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”

Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.

“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”

You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.

“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.

So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.

Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.

“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.

He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.

When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.

He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.

“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”

You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.

“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”

You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.

Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”

You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”

“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”

“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”

Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”

“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.

“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”

It made sense you guessed.

“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”

He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”

You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.

“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“

“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”

“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.

You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.

“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”

You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”

Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”

Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”

“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”

Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”

“Did it turn you on?”

Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”

Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”

You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”

“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”

“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”

It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.

“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”

Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”

You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”

Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”

You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.

“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”

“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”

“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”

It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.

He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”

You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.

 “So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”

You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”

Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.

It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.

For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.

“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”

He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.

You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.

Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”

He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.

Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.

“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”

You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”

Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“

“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”

“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”

Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.

The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.

Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”

“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”

You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.

Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”

You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”

You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.

You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”

You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”

“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”

You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”

“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.

You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.

He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.

He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.

“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”

You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”

He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”

You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.

The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.

“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”

You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”

Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”

You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”

“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.

After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.

Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”

You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”

Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”

Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.

When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”

The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.

The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.

And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.

Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.

It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).

The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.

He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.

When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.

Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.

“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.

“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.

Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”

You nodded.

“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.

He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”

Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.

You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.

“Fuck! Yes…”

You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.

You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.

He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”

You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”

He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.

You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.

When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.

And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.

But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.

Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.

He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”

You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…

You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.

“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.

A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.

Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.

“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”

Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.

And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.

Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.

The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.

“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”

Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.

When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”

He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”

He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.

You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.

You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.

He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.

When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.

You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”

But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.

When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.

“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”

He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.

He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.

The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.

Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.

You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.

“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.

You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.

If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.

He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.

“Did that all for me? Yeah?”

You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.

“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.

Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.

“Feel okay?”

You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”

“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.

You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”

You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.

“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”

There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.

Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.

You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.

When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.

“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”

He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”

“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“

He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.

You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”

“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”

PART 2 COMING SOON

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[cinnamonone]

Me after stepping out of the closet and before Harry runs away.

Fucking loved this. So hot and so flirty.

HEAVEN WITH YOU

A game of Seven Minutes in Heaven with a very charming stranger. One that's so charming, you're left in need of more minutes. Of all the minutes. (Massive thank you to my bestie @heartateasee for helping me fine tune the idea. Love you so much!)

Mature Content: explicit language, dirty talk, spitting, handjob & fingering (f receiving). For an 18+ audience only.

Word Count: 3.9k

You’re starting to regret agreeing to play Seven Minutes in Heaven. You’re twenty-five years old. You have a masters degree and a mortgage. Your ideal night is being at home with your feet in fluffy socks, a cup of tea in hand while watching reruns of your favourite show. What the hell are you doing?

Your expectations for the work friends’ house warming party and the reality of it have been two vastly different things. You imagined sophisticated conversation. A glass or two or Merlot. Quiet, calming music. Maybe a little gossip update about June in HR’s repeated raunchy rendezvous with married-to-someone-else Peter in Finance. 

What you’ve experienced thus far is sex talk. Shots of tequila. Heavy drum n bass. June and Peter getting it on in the corner of the kitchen with an audience of giggling adults.

You were gobsmacked at first, but then, a couple of drinks to loosen up later, you sunk into the chaos. It felt like you were living out your teenage years all over again. And that felt good. Easy. Fun. 

So when someone suggested playing the silly game, one with a twist that intrigued yourself and several other people, you didn’t hesitate. You threw your hat into the ring, the tipsy state you were in giving you confidence. The carefree energy around you contributing, too. 

Those things upped and left when it was your turn to go into the closet, though, and it was all thanks to the twist that had you so curious.

You were to head in, but you weren’t to know who was heading in after you. 

You hadn’t really bothered scanning the small crowd that was playing, much too focused on sinking a few more shots than scoping out your soon-to-be hook-up and watching others head in to the living room closet for their own. It had been a long time since you’d let your hair down this much. You were having fun; your previous reservations about the night no more. 

But your name was soon called, and before you knew it, you were in the game. In the cupboard. Those reservations came back thanks to the pitch black space. The regret hit hard thanks to the unknown. 

You knew you could easily leave. This wasn’t forced, and if people called you out for quitting, you’d tell them to do one. Everyone at this party may be acting like teens, yourself included, but you wouldn’t succumb to peer pressure like you would have back in your younger years. 

Yet you didn’t go. You’re still here, your heart beating hard and head a little hazy. You're painfully sober now, any and all booze consumed now dried up. Much like your mouth. 

The door opening has you freezing in place, even though you weren’t moving anyway. A small strip of the living room's flashing lights seeps through the crack along with the loud music, a tall figure passing through and into the closet seen before darkness resumes and the sound dulls.

No facial features were detected, their movements too quick before shutting the door, but a fragrance hit you hard. Tobacco and vanilla cologne. Tom Ford, to be precise. You’ve smelled it before from one of those stalls in the mall offering out samples. It’s sultry. Sexy. You can only hope that whoever has joined you is of a similar disposition. They must be. A person’s signature scent says a lot about them. 

A beat of silence passes before a raspy chuckle sounds out, “The things we do to get a little action, huh?”

An immediate smile stretches your face, a comfort found in the deep, masculine British drawl lightening the mood with a joke. Arousal, too. You're a sucker for the accent.

“It’s not easy being single these days.”

“Tell me about it. The last date I went on was a disaster. Don’t think I’ll ever go on another one again.”

“Hence being in a closet with a stranger.”

“Exactly.”

You laugh, and while you can’t see it, you can feel his smile. You can tell it’s beautiful. There’s no regret anymore. Only comfort. Intrigue. Excitement.

“Should we introduce ourselves?”

“But then we wouldn’t be two strangers in a closet. All the fun would be gone.”

A flirty sparks hits you, his tease turning you on, “And what kind of fun are you expecting to have?”

“Whatever approximately six and a half minutes will get me. Only if you’re down for that, of course.”

“I wouldn’t be in here if I wasn’t.”

“I know, but you could have changed your mind. You still can. Just want you to be comfortable.”

“Gosh, the stereotype is real.”

“What stereotype?”

“You Brits… you’re so polite. So charming.”

Another chuckle, the sound warming you from head to toe, “I mean it’s the bare minimum, isn’t it?”

“I suppose. But when you’ve gone a lifetime without, one can’t help but swoon.”

“I’ve made you swoon?”

“Mhm. I’m weak at the knees. Catch me before I fall.”

Two large, strong hands immediately find your hips in the dark. Like magnets. It makes you gasp, the precision and firmness surprising you. The sparks incapacitating you.

It falls quiet again. No witty retort. Just quiet breaths from you both. Your hearts beating loud. The tension almost audible. 

“Got you.” He hums, his tone an octave lower than before. A change in cadence that sends tingles straight to your core, “Now what?”

“You found my hips…” You murmur, shuffling forward until his hands slip from there to the small of your back, and yours make contact with a muscled chest housed behind a soft knit jumper, “Now find my lips.”

A subtle groan from him followed by soft palms gliding up. They reach the tops of your shoulders. Move onto your collarbones. Up your neck. Stopping at their final destination - your jaw. Cradling it while you’re left to recuperate from the way the tender touch has made you feel. 

Light as a feather, his thumbs stroke your skin. The tips brush the corners of your mouth, and you can sense his own grinning once more. Another success had. 

You assume now that they’ve been located, he’ll kiss you. That’s what this game is all about. Making out. Maybe taking things a little further. 

But he doesn’t. Instead, he traces the shape of your lips with his thumbs, finding the middle and working his way out and around until you’re putty to his pads and suddenly aware that he’s playing a different game altogether. One you’re enjoying far more.

“Thank God we’re in the dark.” His words are breathy. Voice beautiful, “I’d have had to go back on my no dating rule after seeing the knockout smile I just know this mouth can give.”

You laugh loudly, caught by surprise as much as you are flattered, “I’m so glad you elaborated after that first sentence. I was about to be very offended.”

“And risk ruining my chance to lock lips with these beauties?” He tsks, lightly tapping the centre of your mouth with the pad of his thumb, “No fucking way.“

“Clock’s ticking, Prince Charming.” You murmur, the need for him having grown with every passing second, “It’s now or nev-”

Pillowy lips meet yours, cutting you off. Your breath hitches. Heart thumps. Belly flips. Body melts. Knees weaken. Eyes close, with stars seen behind your lids. Never has a mouth against yours felt so divine.

He’s slow with his movements, taking his time despite having so little of it. A gentle peck to the middle. A careful wrap around your top lip. A soft suck on your bottom one. A tiny swipe of his tongue against your seam, silently asking you to part to let him in. 

And you do, quick to roll yours against his. The breath you held comes out as a whimper. His a groan. You grin. He does the same. 

Your face is still cradled by his hands, but his chest goes neglected by your own. You’ve slipped them up to lock around the back of his neck, curls at the nape of it tickling your fingers. They’re as soft as his lips. As soft as you've been made by him. 

You’re completely pliable, bent and arched at his own whim. You know he’s dipped down quite a bit, a good bit taller than you. That turns you on almost as much as kissing him does. 

It kicks up a few notches, teeth starting to clash, tongues moving sloppily and lips quickening in their movements. His groans have turned into pants. Your whimpers into mewls. You feel yourself throb, and you aren’t alone in that. His half-hard cock tucked behind denim jeans pressing against your belly does the same. 

His arousal is gasoline to the flames of your own. You need it doused. He’s the only one capable of doing so – the problem and the solution. 

“You want a little more action?” You ask, lips off his that don’t hesitate to move onto your cheek. Jaw. Neck. Your moans punctuate each messy kiss that comes with a tickle from his facial hair, your head tilted back to give him all the access; groaning as he goes. 

“‘M not sure we’ve got enough time for me, but we’ve definitely got enough for you.”

You smirk, brows lifting, “I don’t remember Prince Charming being so smug.”

“I know what I’m capable of.” He mumbles, teeth grazing the crook of your neck before he sucks. The particularly sensitive spot makes you gasp, and him grin. 

“Are you implying that I don’t know my own capabilities?” You challenge, now a little collected. A lot confident, “Who’s to say that I can’t get you off quicker than anyone else ever has? Quicker than even you can?”

“Lots of experience.” He counters, mouth ghosting yours. Breath smelling like the tequila you’ve been shooting, because he’s been sipping his own, “But if you’re so adamant to prove your point, by all means… work your magic, love.”

You’re quick to smash your mouth back against his, missing his sweet lips after only a few seconds without. The belt of his jeans is blindly located by your fingers, unbuckled in seconds. Button popped open and zipper pulled down even quicker. He grins against you; the devious expression felt driving you wild. 

Slipping your hand past the elastic of his underwear, your palm skims over soft hair and onto silky skin. It’s warm. Thick. Big. A gasp pours from your mouth into his. A groan from his into yours. 

Now, it’s your turn to grin. Just as deviously, your head pulling back an inch, “Thought we had enough time for me, too?”

A breathy laugh through his nose, “Oh, we do. Just wanted to wait until you hinted. Make sure you’re still on board, y’know?”

“I’m more than on board.” You hum, giving the base a firm squeeze to show so that pulls a whine from him, “Got me curious as to whether you're all talk or not.”

And with that, everything moves quickly. You pull him out of his pants, hand leaving his length for a split second so you can spit into your palm. A moan heard from him at your filthy little move. The sound snuffed out as you wrap your slick skin around his quivering cock once more. 

He pulls your skirt up, fisting the floaty material at the small of your spine with his left hand while his right pulls your panties down to your ankles. His palm stroking your thigh before slipping between both. Index finger teasingly trailing through your slit. Purposefully avoiding your clit. You moan, needing more. He grins against your mouth, ready to give you it. 

Two pads finally press against your throbbing, swollen bud. A mewl from you, lips finding his as your hand starts to stroke up and down his cock. A grunt from him as he starts to circle, his movements expert. Euphoric.

You’re slickened up in no time, much like his shaft. It pulses in your palm, a mixture of your spit and his precome covering both places. You pulse against his fingers, needing them inside you. 

“You ready, love?” He groans against your mouth, his tone dripping with the desire from the pleasure you give him. You nod fast. Desperate, “Gonna give you one first, okay? Warm you up a little more.”

“No, two now. Please.” 

He grins, teeth nipping your bottom lip, “As you wish.”

The feeling of his middle and ring finger slipping in with complete ease makes your knees buckle. Your breath falter. You stretch around the welcome intrusion, your work on his cock halting. You’re too blissed out to continue. At least right now. 

Knuckle-deep and cold metal rings felt against your hot skin, he stops. Your sweet spot found; a place he strokes. Come hither motions that make your skin tingle, jaw slacken and soul leave your body. 

“Shit- just like that.”

Another grin from him, but no change to his tactic. He’s heard what you like. You trust that he’ll stick by that. You can tell he’s a man of expertise, his actions now and words earlier lining up. You’re in good hands. The best.

The faint sounds of your wetness echoes around the confined space, you moans harmonising with it. Kissing him is something you’re unable to do. Your hand around his cock is limp, serving no purpose there. You want to give him pleasure, but you physically can’t. He’s got you immobilised. Weak. Pathetic. 

“Feeling good, stranger?”

You choke out a laugh, “Mhm, so good. Prince Charming had every right to be smug.”

“Like I said… lots of experience.”

“You’re painting yourself in quite the slutty light.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Nope. Not if whoring around has led you here.”

A laugh from him, the sound wholesome and heartwarming, “Can’t say I disagree with you there, love. Your hand holding my cock and tight little cunt feels as good to me as my fingers do to you.”

You can’t help but whimper, which makes him smirk. You can feel it against the corner of your mouth, “You like hearing that, hm?”

“Yes.”

He stops stroking your g-spot, a thrust of his fingers in and out of your hole beginning. The wet noises amplify. Pornographic sounding, much like your moans. 

“This is what I like to hear. So messy. So pretty. ‘S a sign of a good fucking, don’t you think?”

You can barely breathe, let alone think. Let alone speak back. All you can muster is another needy nod, a throaty groan heard from him. 

“Harry.” He purrs, your eyes shooting open in wonder even though you can’t see a thing or him, “That’s my name.”

A hard swallow from you, shaking yourself back to the moment so you can talk. It’s hard, though. His plunging fingers feel so incredible. 

“Why are you telling me? Thought you wanted to be strangers?”

“I did. But now I wanna give you something to moan.” He hums, a chaste kiss to your bottom lip, “Will you do that for me, love? Will you moan my name when I make you come?”

“If you make me come. Sure.” You tease, the lie on your tongue tasting sweet. You both know it’s going to happen. But the opportunity to bruise his ego a tad was just too good to pass up. 

Harry, as you now know him, chuckles, “I think this pretty pussy of yours has other plans. ‘S hugging me so tight. Soaking my fingers, too.”

His words make your walls clench his digits. A guttural groan from you. A shit-eating smile from him. You’re close, and he knows it. 

“Just a little more to get you there, yeah?”

You could clap back with another sassy remark to playfully knock out some of that narcissism, but you don’t want to. You enjoy the cockiness. You want to come. Harry wants you to, as well. There isn't much time left. Why fight it?

“Quicker.” 

Your command is immediately listened to, Harry’s pace picking up. Each prod of his pads against your g-spot and hit from the heel of his hand against your clit tips you closer to the edge. Your thighs trembling. Your knees sinking. Your climax approaching. 

His fingers fucking you fast cause obscene noises from your mouth and your cunt, your hands now gripping his shoulders for dear life. Harry still grins, the occasional kiss pressed to the corner of your parted mouth. 

“C’mon, love.” He encourages, his whispered voice your own version of angels singing, “Take me to heaven with you. Make a mess. Let it go.”

And just like he’s listened to you, you listen to him. Coming hard, you see heaven. Singing his praises while practically screaming his name; just like he wanted. Smiling and simpering as you do. Shaking and squirting, too. A filthy groan from Harry as the latter happens.

“Shit- that’s so fucking hot.” 

He works you through the high, your arousal gushing around his fingers and down your thighs. You can’t control it when it occurs, which isn’t often and never with another person. 

Until now. 

Spent, you slump against him. Face finding the crook of his neck. Chests meeting. Hearts pounding so hard. You can feel his. He can no doubt feel yours. 

Harry slips his fingers out, residual arousal flowing from their absence. You whine and writhe, wanting him back inside of you already. Wishing you had more time. 

A kiss to the top of your head makes you smile into his slightly sweaty skin, the smell of him delectable. His perspiration blends so well with his cologne; the scent of you joining forces to make for a devilishly delicious cocktail. 

His cock twitching against your stomach reminds you of your neglect. You pout, feeling guilty. 

“Turns out that I was the one that was all talk, no action.” 

Harry laughs, shaking his head that hovers by yours, “Trust me, you gave me more than enough. Wasn’t expecting the squirting.”

“You and me both. ‘S the first time it’s happened with another person.”

“Yeah?” You can hear his smile. Feel his pride, “Damn. My narcissistic ass is about to be unbearable.”

A loud bang on the closet door, both of you jumping, “Time’s up!”

Harry groans. He seems as annoyed about the interruption and gutted about your time together ending as you are.

“Alright! We’ll be right out!”

As much as you have zero regret about what just happened and you’re feeling so blissed out, you can’t help but blush. You’re going to leave the closet, and people are just going to know what happened in it. The smell of sweat is very telling. As is the fact you’re bound to be fucked-out looking from the soul-shattering orgasm you were gifted.

But you have to go. You can’t hide in here forever, as nice as that would be with a guy like Harry. One that’s as sweet as he is sexy, and you haven’t even seen his face yet. 

You pull apart, putting yourself back together. Legs and cunt dried off with your panties, the fabric stuffed into the pocket of your skirt that you tug back down. You don't exactly have a whole array of options for the very necessary clean-up job, and now you have no choice but to go commando for the rest of the party. Oh well.

You heard him shuffling around, getting himself situated as you did the same. Still hard, gone forgotten about cock confined behind his briefs once more. Zipper up. Button fastened. Belt buckled. Fingers licked clean. The latter made you clench around nothing; hungry for another helping of Harry after just having a delicious fill. 

Neither of you speak, nothing but now regulated breaths filling the stuffy space. You’re smiling, though, and you know he is, too. Maybe going out into the crowd won’t be so bad when you know he’ll be following behind?

“That was a lot of fun.” He hums, the inflection of his tone indicative of a blush. Something that makes you giggle. 

“It really was. ‘M sorry I didn’t get you off, though.”

“Don’t be sorry, ‘cause I’m not. That couldn’t have gone any better. Any hotter. I saw God, actually."

“And the British stereotype has been fulfilled once more. So polite. So charming.”

“And also so interested in learning your name.”

That makes you grin, your heart skipping a few beats. Belly filling up with butterflies, “What does that matter now? We had our fun as strangers for the most part. Why not leave it at that?”

You’re teasing, of course. You’ll tell him your name, feeling hopeful there’ll come a time where he moans it. You’ve just decided to wait until you’re out of the confined cupboard before handing it over. 

Harry knows it, too. The chuckle he offers is very telling of that, “As you wish.”

Finding his cheek in the dark, you press a quick kiss to it before squeezing past him and out into the light. You walk a few steps through the living room, all eyes are on you. Loud whispering and childish whistling heard. But you don’t care. Not about them. Only about Harry. 

You turn around, facing the closet. Breath held. Eyes locked. Heart thumping. 

And upon his tall figure ducking and slipping out and into the room , your heart stops. Eyes glaze. Breath releases. 

He’s gorgeous. He’s a God. One that’s dressed in a vibrant red jumper and dark blue jeans, with chocolate-coloured curls a perfect mess on top of his head and over his brow, moss green eyes locked on you, and pretty pink lips smiling like he’s not the only divine being in the room. Not when you're in it, as well.

Harry saunters toward you, everything and everyone else a blur. Your sights are set. Your body pulses. Your grin a mile-wide. All for him. Only for him. 

He stops at your feet, looking down at you looking up at him. There’s hunger in his eyes. Happiness, too. 

“I love being right.”

“Right about what?”

Harry nudges his chin towards your mouth, eyes staying on yours, “There's that knockout smile. Never seen a more gorgeous one in all my life.”

A giggle bursts out of you, the sound stretching Harry’s smile higher up his pretty face until his eyes cutely crinkle at the corners. A dimple born. 

You dreamily sigh after a hard swallow, gesturing your chin towards his grin, "Right back atcha."

His only grows, cheeks turning peachy. He gestures his head to the right. The front door, “Wanna get out of here? This party was only fun for seven or so minutes.”

You blush, your body more like jell-o than ever before. You’re feeling so thankful that your confident streak earlier on sent you into that closet to play a silly little game. One that's only just started, it would seem.

“You got somewhere in mind?”

“Wherever your dream first date would be. Within reason, of course. I've not got my passport on me."

Harry’s response makes you giggle, your brows lifting, too, “Thought you’d sworn off dating?”

“I had. ‘Til you." He counters, his smile stretching some more as he eyes up your mouth before looking meeting your hazy gaze once more, "Told you that smile would have me going back on my rules.” "Good to know that Prince Charming's a man of his word." "Oh, he's so much more than that." Harry winks, jerking his chin your way once more, “What's your name, love?”

“I’ll tell you on our date.”

[cinnamonone]

scare (cheatrry)

word count: 1.9k

content warnings: slight mentions of smut, pregnancy scare, cheating plot, mentions of abortion, not suitable for ramadan

based on this blurb!

main masterlist

. . .

Harry’s not an oblivious man.

More often than not, he considers himself to be an empath, easily picking up on mood changes pertaining to those around him. With his ex-wife, he could tell if she’d had a bad day at work just by the way she walked through the front door. With Y/N, it’s much, much easier, because, for the first time ever, she’s clearly avoiding him. 

When he texted for their weekly hookup, she churned out some bullshit excuse about landscapers being at the house all day. (There weren’t. Call him insane, but he drove by on her lunch break, and her front and back yards were so quiet, you’d be able to hear the sound of leaves falling.) 

And while they normally don’t interact much at school pickup — usually Harry’s being swarmed by hungry MILFs who he politely rejects each and every time — she’s taken to wearing a large pair of sunglasses over her eyes, almost as if she’s physically attempting to hide from him. It’s odd and it makes him concerned, even if he’s the one that’s repeated the same sentiment regarding their situation a million times over (“no feelings, just sex”). 

His brain launches itself into the worst places it could possibly go, so on Thursday afternoon, exactly one week and a day since they last slept together, Harry tries to casually mosey over to her car as she stands there, waiting for her kids to leave school. He watches as she visibly clenches her jaw and he clears his throat, standing next to her but refusing to give her eye contact. There’s a reason they don’t ever speak too much at pickup time, and it’s always to make sure no one suspects anything.

“You’re avoiding me.” he says through gritted teeth. She inhales through her nose and he peers down from the corner of his eye to see her expression. It’s difficult to tell when she’s wearing those ridiculously oversized sunglasses. 

“I’m not avoiding you.” she mutters, leaning her hip against the bumper of her black SUV. 

“Then why haven’t I seen you?”

Her nostrils flare as she runs her tongue over her teeth. 

“It’s barely been two weeks, Harry. Don’t be dramatic.”

He resists the urge to snort and crosses his arms over his chest. “Well fuck me for wanting to make sure you’re alright.”

“Keep your voice down,” she grumbles, flashing a forced smile to a mom who passes by them. She clears her throat and pushes her sunglasses into her hair. Harry’s relieved to finally be able to see her eyes. “I might be… pregnant.”

Despite the drop in his stomach, he’s able to maintain a stoic expression. He’s no longer the foolish teenager he once was — he and Y/N are both fully capable adults and would know how to approach an unwanted pregnancy, need be. What scares him more is the prospect of her wanting to keep the baby.

His mind is whirring at a million miles per hour when she grits out his name, bringing him back down to earth. He coughs. 

“My period is late but I haven’t had a chance to pick up a test yet, so don’t get your panties in a twist.” she replies lowly. They hear the school bell ring, signaling the official end to the day. They have about four minutes before the kids come running out through the front. 

“I’ll pick you up tonight at 9. Tell your husband you’re having a baking emergency or some shit.”

Y/N doesn’t have a chance to fight him before he’s walking away, headed back in the direction of his car to wait for his twins.

. . .

Harry parks down the road from Y/N’s house at 9 pm on the dot.

He feels like some sort of shitty spy with the way he’s turned his car lights off as he waits for Y/N to get in. He texted her as soon as he got there — they used to have a secret code word for their rendezvouses but it’s been months since they started, and Harry thinks they could fuck right in front of her husband and he wouldn’t even notice.

He sighs as he takes a sip from his reusable water bottle. He glances up at the rearview mirror for the tenth time in the past minute, his stomach calming some when he recognizes Y/N’s frame hustling towards his SUV. He presses the ‘unlock’ button as she wordlessly climbs in the passenger’s seat. Harry doesn’t say anything when he shifts the gear back into drive to pull out of her cul-de-sac. 

Finally, he asks: “Did your husband have an issue with you leaving?” 

Y/N tries not to roll her eyes. 

“No, but I also didn’t tell him I was having a ‘baking emergency’, like you so kindly suggested.”

“Oh, so you told him you have to go take a pregnancy test to make sure you’re not knocked up with some other guy’s kid?”

“Stop being a dick,” she mumbles, occupying her shaky hands by playing with the ends of her hair. “Where are we going?”

“Where do you think?” 

When she doesn’t reply, he sighs.

“The twins are at their mom’s for the next few days so after I dropped them off, I got a few tests from the pharmacy a few towns over. We’re going to my place so you can take them.”

Her stomach tightens. While she’s mainly worried about the results of the impending pregnancy tests, she’s also never been to Harry’s before. He’s never actually offered.

Y/N hums in response — it’s apparent she doesn’t have much of a choice, and quite frankly, she’d rather take them there than go back to her own home and do it. A silence blankets them once again as he drives through their quiet suburban neighborhood.

Until Harry clears his throat. 

She cranes her neck to look at him, quirking an eyebrow as a wordless encouragement to say whatever stupid thing he’s thinking. 

“If it’s positive… you’re not… you’re not gonna have the kid, right?”

She sighs noisily. “Do I look like I’m in the position to deal with that? I already feel guilty enough fucking you behind his back.”

“He pays you no attention, Y/N. Your pussy is always completely depraved when we hook up. You shouldn’t feel bad.”

Y/N ignores the way her skin warms at the casual filth that falls from his lips. 

“To answer your initial question, no, I wouldn’t keep them. I would get an abortion.”

He doesn’t respond to that, which leaves her to believe it’s a satisfactory reply. 

It’s only a few more minutes before Harry’s pulling into the three-car garage attached to his house. They move silently and quickly, as if any one of his neighbors could come out and see them together — she supposes it’s a possibility, but their town is usually asleep by 8:30 at the latest. She follows him in through the side door, which apparently takes them into the kitchen. He flicks some lights on as he digs in his pocket, pulling three small boxes out and tossing them on the kitchen island. 

“Take your pick,” he says before nudging his chin in the direction of the hallway. “There’s a bathroom down there.”

Somehow, she’s unsurprised that he got the most expensive options — the ones with the digital screens that spell out “you’re pregnant!” with a smiley face on it. She grabs the first one and follows the direction that Harry led her in. Despite the harshness of the interior design (everything feels pristine thanks to white marbled flooring and light gray walls), she notices that he has a plethora of family photos that line the hallway. None of the pictures include his ex-wife, who left Harry three or so years ago. She remembers it being a huge deal in their small community. They were both gorgeous, a completely picturesque family that seemed completely destined to be together. Rumors flew about the divorce — everything from Harry sleeping with his wife’s assistant to her running away to Aruba — but Y/N never cared to find out what really happened. In fact, she and Harry didn’t really speak until they started sleeping together.

Her mind wanders back to the task at hand when she closes the bathroom door behind her. She’s taken many pregnancy tests in her life — she has two kids, after all. It’s a straightforward process and she gently places the cap back on the stick, placing it on the sink as she waits for it to process. After flushing and washing her hands, she nibbles on her bottom lip, watching as the little bar loads.

. . .

Harry thinks he’s going to vomit as he waits for Y/N to emerge from the bathroom. 

He hasn’t felt this way in years. Despite the twins being his entire life nowadays, when his ex first got pregnant with them, he spent months sick with worry. And although Y/N already assured him that she wouldn’t keep it if she is pregnant, the thought of her carrying his child still makes him woozy.

His head snaps up when he hears the bathroom door creak open. A few moments later, her sneaker-clad feet carry her back into the kitchen. She holds the stick in her hands and Harry’s eyes bulge at it. 

“Negative,” she breathes, putting it down on the table, as if to prove it. “No baby.”

He sighs out in relief. “Thank fuck.”

She nods. “Just make sure you destroy this or whatever,” she mumbles, reaching up to run a hand through her hair. It’s only then that Harry realizes how exhausted she looks. She has deep bags under her eyes and her lips look worn from constantly biting them. “Listen, I’m fine if you want to stop messing around. This was scary.”

Harry raises his eyebrows. “It was a pregnancy scare. It happens to everyone.”

“Yeah, but there’s more consequences for us.”

He shrugs. “We would’ve taken care of it.”

She’s too exhausted to fight him on his nonchalant nature, so she just sighs instead. 

“I take it that you don’t want to stop, then?” she asks, pursing her lips at the male. 

“Not if you don’t want to.”

“Okay,” she nods, “We’ll just need to be more careful, then.”

“Sure.”

She swallows, glancing past him to read the time on the stove. “I guess I’ll get going then.”

“I can drive you home.” he says quickly, grabbing his keys off the table.

She doesn’t reject his offer, especially now that the adrenaline from the evening has officially worn off. For the second time that night, she sits in the passenger’s seat of Harry’s car, allowing him to chauffeur her back to her house. He drives down to the spot he picked her up in, at the very end of her road so no one sees him dropping her off. 

“Thank you,” she murmurs as she unbuckles her seatbelt. “Sorry about all this.”

“It’s fine, shit happens. You don’t have to go through it alone.”

It may be the nicest thing he’s ever said to her and she doesn’t know what to say. Instead, she simply flashes him a small smile before moving to open the car door. 

“Wait—” Harry reaches out to press his hand to her knee. Y/N glances down at his touch and he quickly rips it away. “Are you around sometime next week? For me to come by?”

She doesn’t even consider what her schedule looks like before she turns to look at him. 

“Yeah. Come over whenever you want.”

He sends her a wide grin as she climbs out of his car.

[cinnamonone]

THE BREAK UP

summary: harry and y/n break up.

4.6k words!

warnings: angst! but cute too!! y/n’s dad being a jerk.

a/n: please enjoy while i try to remember how to write properly. and i missed youuu :) i hope you loveeee!

“Styles, your girl is here!”                   

That had him dropping the lug wrench in his hands with a loud metallic clatter on the cement flooring. On his way out of the garage, he grabbed a shop towel to wipe the grease from his hands. He decided now would be a better time than later to take a smoke break, so he snatched the cigarette from behind his ear and placed it between his lips to light it up as he continued on. 

And there she was. Leaning against the side of her car that she let him fix a few things up on it few months back. She’s wearing one of his favorite dresses. One that ties behind her neck, leaving her shoulders bare, and cuts off at the middle of her thighs. 

She’s gorgeous and he’s incredibly lucky to be called hers. Her hair had just caught the wind when she turned her head at the sound of him calling her name and just as he was going to go on another spiel about how pretty she is, he stopped in his tracks, only a few feet from her. 

“What’s wrong?” He mumbled through his cigarette. 

Her eyes were red and puffy like she’d been crying for a little longer than he’d like. He went to step closer to her but she stepped away, toward the driver side door of her car. Something must really be wrong and he has no idea what it could be. All he did today was wake up and go to work. 

“We need to talk.” She wiped under her eyes again and managed to keep his gaze. He hated those words more than anything. In any context, they’re never good and he just doesn’t know why it’s coming to this. 

“What’d I do?” No longer being cautious about approaching her, he stepped right up to her, standing in front of her so she kept her back to the side of the car. She put her face in her hands and took a shaky breath. He’s not interested in his cigarette anymore, so he took it out of his mouth and tossed it to the ground. He might need another one after this conversation but he can only hope it goes well. So far, it’s not. “(Y/N), honey. Please. Tell me what I did.” 

He couldn’t help running his hand down the back of her arm. But she pulled her arm away quickly like just the feel of him touching her was unpleasant. He knows better than that though. 

“We’re breaking up.” She finally breathed out, meeting his eyes again while blinking away tears. 

“Why would we do that?” He caught another grip on her arm that was firmer this time so she couldn’t pull away. 

“I think…I think it’s for the best.” She nodded, like she was trying to convince herself that she meant it. 

“No, it’s not. We’re not breaking up, (Y/N).” He’d be devastated. It had taken him so long to find someone like her and he wasn’t just going to let her tell him it was over. Because he knows she doesn’t mean it. She can’t. 

“Yes,” She said with a little more conviction, prying his hand off of her arm. “We are. Because I said so.” 

“This is all your fucking dad, isn’t it?” Harry was well aware that her parents weren’t the biggest fans of his but he’d been nothing but civil with them. But try as he might, he’d never get their approval and he knew that. He just thought that (Y/N) was willing to look past that. 

“No, Harry. It’s not that. I…I’m making this decision because it’s for the best. For both of us.” 

“How so?” He waited only a few seconds, watching her stumble over her words to think of a suitable answer. “Because I think you’re fucking lying to me, (Y/N). You told me you loved me every day for the past three months and now you’re taking it back?” 

“Things change.” He watched her shrug like she was unbothered by what he was saying. And that really fucking hurt. If he didn’t know her as well as he did, he’d think she was serious. 

“Well, I love you. And I don’t give a shit what your parents think. But if this is what you want, look me in the eye and say it again. Say you don’t love me.” Maybe he was being a little cruel, but nothing could compare to what she was doing to him. Ripping his heart right out of his chest. That’s what it felt like anyway. 

“Harry—”

“Say it. It’s true, isn’t it? You don’t love me anymore.” 

“I can’t.” Her hand reached for the door handle but he stopped her, pressing her back into the car again. 

“Tell me. Or you’re not going anywhere.” 

“Why do you have to make this hard? I don’t…I don’t want anything to do with you.” It was a weak attempt and they both knew it. 

“Then stop lying to me. What’s going on?” He squeezed her shoulders, hopefully reassuringly, but he felt like he was going to lose his mind. If she leaves now, he’s not sure what he’ll do. 

“I’m not lying. Harry, I—”

She placed her head in her hands again to cry. He watched her chest heave and her hands wipe at her cheeks but it was pointless. The tears kept coming. 

“Then why are you crying if you don’t love me?” He tried to drag her hands away from her face, to get her eyes back to his. Hopefully to talk some sense into her but she just shook her head, shoving at his chest. 

“We’re done. I already said it, so let me go.” 

He wondered how long he could keep her here. How long she would deny them. Eventually, she would break but he didn’t know if he could hear it for much longer without saying something he regretted. So, he dropped his hands from her and took a step back. 

“Then, leave.” 

He watched her take in his stoic expression. She was shocked, only for a moment, before moving to the back door of her car. She opened it and retrieved a cardboard box. He took it from her when she held it out for him. 

“Your things.” 

Quickly glancing over the contents, he felt his chest ache. All the letters he’d sent her in the weeks leading up to her finally letting him take her on a date. The countless photo booth strips that she begged him to take with her. They’re smiling into the camera in one and in the next she’s pressing a kiss to his cheek and then laying her head on his shoulder. And finally kissing him right on the lips. He’ll remember that night for the rest of his life. That was their first kiss right there on that film strip. 

The green flannel he told her to keep was neatly folded and tucked down the side, along with a few of his vinyls she’d borrowed. He told her to keep everything because he wanted her to have it. But now she’s pressing the box into his chest and leaving him heartbroken. 

“That’s it then?” He couldn’t let her leave without trying one more time. 

“Yes.” 

He knew it pained her to say it. He knew she didn’t want to break up with him. They just saw each other two days ago right here in this exact spot. She’d been on lunch break at work and raced down to the garage to jump into his arms and kiss him until they were both blue in the face. He’s not sure what could’ve gone so wrong in such a short amount of time, but he’s always given (Y/N) what she wanted. And if this is something she wants, he can’t stop her. He can only hope she changes her mind. 

“I’m not sure what made you think you had to do this but I hope you know it was all for nothing.” With that, he turned on his heel, not wanting to watch her go. He went straight back into the garage, as far away as he could get from any of the doors or windows and placed the box down. He’s in the break room now, tugging at his hair and really wanting another cigarette.

Harry isn’t sure what to do now. So, he sits in one of the chairs and stares down at the table, trying to think about what he could’ve done that was so wrong. 

***

“I hate you!” 

(Y/N) has never raised her voice at her father before but coming home from the garage had her skin feeling hot and her blood boiling. She should’ve known that Harry wouldn’t take that well. She should’ve just accepted her father’s disappointment like any other child does but she couldn’t take his emotionless stares any longer. 

After he found out that she was down at the garage two days ago, he threatened to kick her out. Only her mother knew that she was sneaking down there after her father forbade it. He told her that if she wanted to stay in his house, she’d have to follow his rules, no matter what age she was. She was on her way to twenty-one for christ’s sake but he didn’t care. 

Her father met Harry once. She’d begged him to wear a long sleeved shirt to cover his tattoos when he came to pick her up to go to the drive-in. He did but when he brought her home one minute after the time he’d set for her to be there, her father was standing on the porch looking aggravated. Harry apologized, though it was no big deal, and all he did was grunt before dragging her inside after him. 

That night, he told her how he didn’t like his car or his clothes or his hair or his job or all the rings he liked to wear. And that was supposed to be the end of it. That was six months ago and he had no idea until now. 

She’d cried and cried and cried to him, telling him that she loved Harry and she wouldn’t be able to break up with him but that meant nothing. 

“You’re twenty years old. What do you need with a boyfriend anyway?” He scoffed. “And he’s almost four years older than you, (Y/N). Next thing you know you’ll be knocked up and I won’t let you embarrass us like that.” 

He gave her the options one more time. 

Break up with Harry or she’d never be able to return home and he’d make sure of it. She wasn’t sure how but she didn’t want to test him when his anger was at a high she’d never experienced before. So, she agreed even though it made her sick at the thought. She couldn't be banished from her home, even if she did love Harry. They would work a way around it. But she really didn’t want to know what her dad would do if he caught them again and that’s the only reason why she went through with it. 

He’d probably send her away. He’d threatened it a few times. Her aunt lives across the country and he was always saying how she had plenty of room at her house for (Y/N). And she couldn’t bear the thought of being that far away from home and Harry. But now that she’d lost him for good, she didn’t care about anything. 

She didn’t care about shouting at her father as soon as she came stomping into the house. She didn’t care about telling him that she hated him. Because it was true. If he could put her through this much pain without even trying to understand it, he didn’t care too much about her either. 

Slamming her bedroom door after her, she shoved her face into one of her pillows and cried everything she had. She’d spent the last day and a half crying and she honestly didn’t think she had anything left in her, but seeing Harry and telling him she didn’t love him was over the top and made her feel ill. 

Harry did live on his own and she’d been over his apartment several times under the guise that she was staying with a friend but she couldn’t trouble him with keeping her there too if her dad did throw her out. It wasn’t fair. Somehow this felt like the easiest option, even if it did hurt. She couldn’t be a burden to him. What if he got tired of her and wanted her out too? Her part time job was doing little for her to be able to live on her own. She’d never make it and have to come crawling back to her father anyway. And she just couldn’t give him that satisfaction. So, she did what she thought was best. And Harry will probably never forgive her for it. 

So many times she thought about reaching for the phone on the nightstand right beside her. To phone down to the shop and tell Harry it was a mistake and that she changed her mind. But she couldn’t be mad at him if he refused to hear anything she said. She decided not calling was probably a good idea because if Harry did pick up and let her talk, she was too afraid that he’d tell her he’s over it and he didn’t want to be with her anymore. The thought was terrifying and very real. And he would be completely justified. 

(Y/N) could barely stomach dinner. Her mother coaxed her downstairs to sit across from her father but all she did was stare down at her full plate and remind herself to blink every so often. She didn’t bother with listening to anything either of them had to say. 

Her mother didn’t mind Harry. All she really cared about was manners and Harry had plenty of them. But her father is still the one that makes the decisions for the household, so anything he says goes. And both (Y/N) and her mother have to oblige. 

How couldn’t he see how upset she was? Tears had been swimming in her eyes nonstop and he didn’t care. He just kept going on about what happened at work today. 

“Aren’t you going to eat something?” 

That snapped her out of her daydream of sneaking out of her window tonight and going to beg Harry for a second chance. What could her father really do? She’s an adult. If he did ban her from coming home, that might be a blessing. 

She didn’t answer him, she didn’t even look at him, and she knew that bothered him. 

“Fine. I don’t appreciate how you spoke to me when you got home either.” 

“Don’t you see what you’ve made me do? I loved him, dad.” She pleaded her case to him too many times to count. And nothing she’s said thus far has changed his mind. She can tell that her mother sympathizes, though she says nothing, just watches on as (Y/N) cries. 

“He’s too old for you and I don’t like you hanging around him. End of story.” He sent her one last stern glare before returning to his meal. 

(Y/N) didn’t ask to be excused like she was supposed to, she just stood up from the table, leaving her untouched plate where it was, and went back to her room. She knew that her father would have an earful for her later but she didn’t care right now. She just wanted to sit in her room, alone, and wonder how things got so bad. A week ago, she was living the dream and now she has nothing to show for it. 

She’d even given Harry all his things back. There was nothing of his that she kept because she thought it’d be easier to have every trace of him gone. Turns out, she wishes she could hold his flannel to her chest or listen to one of his vinyls. Maybe it would make it hurt less. 

The only thing she has left is the picture frame on her bedside table. It’s just a picture of Harry, stretched out on a picnic blanket with her sunglasses that he stole right from the bridge of her nose. She couldn’t resist grabbing her camera and snapping a picture. He was smiling up at her, one hand raised in a peace sign and the other holding his head up. He was a dream. And it’s such a shame that she had to ruin things just to keep her father happy. 

She would never forget their time together. Harry was her first everything. First boyfriend, first kiss, first time. She’d never be able to forget him if she ever wanted to. 

***

Harry has suffered through a week without (Y/N). 

He almost thinks that it was her idea to break up with him. Because he figured she’d crack by now or let him know some way that she didn’t really mean it. But she’s given him nothing. 

Throwing himself into his work has been a good distraction. He turns the garage radio up so loud that he can’t even hear his thoughts as he works. He takes up extra work. He doesn’t want to go home and sulk alone. And he knows that everyone notices that (Y/N) isn’t coming around anymore on her lunch breaks but no one tries to ask him about it. He guesses they can tell that he’s in a mood and it has everything to do with her. 

He wants to call her but he’s unsure if her parents have taken away her phone privileges. They probably have if he knows anything about them.

Harry empathizes with (Y/N). Because her parents are tough and like to try to tell her what to do. He understands that they’re protective but at times, it crosses the line. If only they would try to get to know him a little better, maybe they wouldn’t be so controlling about who she spends her time with. 

Not that he knows for certain that her father put her up to this but it’s the only thing that makes sense to him. Because she loved him so much, he could see it in her eyes. And that doesn’t just disappear in two days. 

So, he doesn’t call. He wants to leave it up to her. If she never speaks to him again, he’ll have to just deal with it. He does often wonder what she’s doing. If she misses him any. If she thinks about running down on her lunch break to see him. If she drives past and thinks of him. If she goes to sleep every night, wishing that he was beside her. 

Those things only make his throat tight, so he tries to steer clear of them. She’d made the decision and he wasn’t going to fix it for her. He had to stay strong and talk himself out of showing up at her door to convince her to take him back. That he’d do better and be better, be whatever her father wanted him to be, as long as he got to stay with (Y/N). 

He hadn’t done anything though except be himself. And that wasn’t good enough for any of them. 

****

During the day, (Y/N)’s mother will sit with her in her room and gently run her fingers through her hair. They don’t speak much, just because (Y/N) has no idea what to say. 

She’s grateful that her mother gave her more time to see Harry. It seems she knew it would end this way all along, so she was trying to let her be with him as much as she could before it was all ripped away from her. 

Her eyes have remained dry all morning. She called off work because she couldn’t do it today. She couldn’t walk in and pretend everything was okay. So, she made a call to her manager early that morning and hadn’t moved from her bed except to take a shower, just to freshen up. She’d been wallowing away in her bed anytime she wasn’t at work. She didn’t come down to dinner anymore. It was a waste of time to sit across from her father and listen to his mundane work day. And the way he’d act so nonchalant about everything he’d made her do. It made her sick. 

(Y/N)’s mother understood and tried to be in her corner as much as possible, telling her father to lighten up a little bit. That she needed time to process. He didn’t like that it took more than a week but he hadn’t said anything about it yet. She’s expecting him to come to her room at some point and demand her to get out of the house. 

If she leaves, other than for work, she knows she’ll end up on Harry’s doorstep, in tears, begging for him to forget all she said a week ago. She loves him and she never wants to let him go. But still, she fears he’s already gotten over her and will just brush her off if she tries anything like that. It’s enough to make her stay right where she is, in her own misery. 

“I’ll get you some tea.” Her mother gently stroked her cheek before leaving the room and shutting the door behind her. She sighed, shoving her face back in her pillow. Tea would be nice. Maybe it would help her cloudy mind a little bit. She doubts it because there’s only one thing that can help that. 

(Y/N) must’ve fallen asleep at some point because she woke up to fingers back in her hair. She kept her eyes shut, nuzzling her face into her soft pillow. 

“Do you think he’ll ever forgive me?” She whispered, feeling her eyes well even with them shut. She’d been asking her mother all week questions like that. Just to get her honest opinion. To get anyone’s opinion. Did she do something so unforgivable that Harry wouldn’t even look at her if they crossed paths on the street? She just wanted a little bit of hope that he’s not as mad as he seems to be. As he has the right to be. 

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that.” 

As soon as his voice graced her ears, she was pushing herself up from her pillow and staring at him in disbelief. 

“What are you—” She cut herself off, truly not knowing what to say. Why was he in her room right now? Better yet, how was he in her room? She didn’t bother trying to ask either of those questions through the new onset of tears leaving her eyes, she just squeezed her arms around his neck, deciding that she wasn’t ever going to let go. Because this might be a dream and she wanted to hold him for as long as she could. 

He hugged her back, dragging her right into his lap to hold her properly. 

“Don’t cry, honey, please.” He rubbed a soothing hand down her shaky back and gently shushed her. 

“What are you doing here?” She finally muttered into his shoulder. He pulled back, running a thumb under her eyes. 

“Missed you.” He shrugged, like it was simple. 

“But…we broke up.” She hated saying it. She never wanted to hear the two words together again. 

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” He grinned at her, kissing her warm cheek twice before meeting her eye again. “And your mum might have called me over. Said something about you feeling a little down. She thought I could help.” 

“I’m so sorry, Harry.” She moved her hands up to rest on his cheeks, just to feel him after a week of wanting nothing more. He leaned into her touch, turning his head to kiss at one of her palms. 

“She explained everything over the phone. I know you were just scared but maybe…talk to me next time first? Can’t have you breaking my heart again, baby.” 

Her arms wrapped around his neck again in a hug so tight, she thought he might ask her to loosen up a little bit. He never did, he just embraced it all after missing her for a week and thinking he’d never see her again. 

“I wish I would have. I don’t know what I was thinking, I just couldn’t handle him anymore. I didn’t know what to do and I’m so sorry and I love you so, so much. You wouldn’t be able to understand how much. I never stopped loving you for a second.” Her voice broke, like she was on her way to tears again, so he pulled back, shaking his head at her. 

“I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere. So, don’t start getting tired of me, alright?” He teased her but she just wanted to cry all over again. He was back, like she hadn’t hurt him deeply by breaking up with him. He seemed like he was just happy to have gotten an explanation. One that she didn’t give, but at least he knows what happened. Well, he’d known from the beginning it had something to do with her father, even though she tried to play it off like it didn’t. 

“I’m so sorry,” She repeated, looking into his warm green eyes that she’d missed so dearly. “And I understand if you don’t forgive me entirely. It was wrong of me to just walk out on you like that and if you need time—”

The sentence was cut short by a searing kiss being pressed to her mouth. She looked up at him again, helplessly, just wanting to tell him she was sorry a million times over, but he only kissed her again to keep her quiet. 

“I don’t need time, just you, (Y/N).” He squeezed his hands over her arms, smiling at her again. She took a deep breath, trying to be okay with how easily she was forgiven. She expected something more. Well, she didn’t expect he’d ever be here right now and she’d get the chance to ask for it. But she’d never make a mistake like that again. 

“What about my dad?” The question wasn’t one she wanted to have to worry about, but it was inevitable anyway. 

“Hm, heard your mum was going to have a word with him. She’s not too happy either.” He sent her a smirk that told her nothing, but let her know the two of them were up to something. 

“He’ll be home soon, right? You should go.” Just as she was going to push herself off of his lap, he was grounding her there with his hands gripping her thighs. 

“I’m not going anywhere unless it’s with you, honey. So, why don’t you put one of those pretty skirts on and we’ll go down to the diner for burgers.” 

She’d been starving, so it sounded like a fantastic idea. She kissed him once more, just because she could, and stood off of his lap. 

“Can we get milkshakes too?” 

“Not even a question, babe.” 

She caught sight of his smile one last time before she went to her closet to pick through her skirts and find the one she knew was his favorite. 

(Y/N) was beyond grateful that Harry was here right now. She’d have to thank her mother when she got back. She’s not sure what her mother will say once her dad makes it home, but she doesn’t worry about it right now. She just hurries to pull her skirt over her hips and slip into her shoes before locking hands with Harry and dragging him downstairs. She stopped to thank her mother on the way out the door and she sent them off with a smile. 

(Y/N) isn’t sure where this second chance came from, but she’s never going to let him go now. No matter what. 

****

hiiii 😁

****I THINK SOME OF YOU CHANGED YOUR USERNAMES SO I WENT BACK THROUGH MY TAGLIST POST! BUT IF YOU WANT TO BE OFF OF IT, LMK I UNDERSTAND LOL 😂****

tags: @vamprry @1un4zsq @marzhshaim @sunflowersloverr @tenaciousperfectionunknown @caynonmoondreams @elidoho @peterbenjaminparke07 @daydreamingofmatilda @kissitnhekitchen @amberbambridge @danaehldy @straightontilmornin @forgetdelaney @harrysonlylover @idrawshapesonpeople07 @me-undiscovered @llina01 @80s-outsiders @littlenatilda @outofthisworl-d @butdaddyilovehim-hs @cherrys4suckers @harrystylessslut @sceleratuspoeta @hssunflowervol6 @indierockgirrl @honeyharlows @satellitelh @daphnesutton @tfharries @opheliaofficial07 @hermionelove @nathalielovesonedirection @velvetballaspark @watermelonlover @kathb59 @theofficialprongs @myloveforrreadingspost @harryshousewhore @harrysolaf @szoszi2004 @buckyssbestgirl @ellaorchard @trooooye @daylighthazzz @prettytulips @stylesfever @mayamonroem @fake-coolbeans @slut-for-artists @kailaxharlow @i-do-dumb-shit @lunaharrygurl

[cinnamonone]

Don't get me started on this again. It will consume my weekend. 🥴 But wait! I remember a blurb about how they first met at the library or something?? Where's that??

The Mine Masterlist

MafiaBoss!Harry x You

*Contains Mature and Explicit content, so please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞*

~ Mine* (Pt. 1)

Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has been a little neglectful of his most prized possession. But he's found the perfect way to make it right.

~ Ours* (Pt. 2)

Harry has arranged a phone-call with one of his most notorious enemies. Lucky for you, you’ve got a front row seat to the show. His cock.

~ Yours* (Pt. 3)

Harry is out of town when you need him most. And Harry is never one to leave you unsatisfied. So, he calls in his right-hand man to help.

~ Theirs* (Pt. 4)

Harry has returned home after being away. The first thing on his agenda? Your punishment.

~ Hers* (Final Part)

Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has made you a deal. Two cocks for the price of one. He'll share you with Asher. For one night. And one night only. And all you have to do? Be good and take it.

The Extras:

~ Remedy*

You've been feeling a little empty and needy lately. Thankfully, your mafia boss boyfriend happens to have the perfect remedy.

~ Pillowtalk*

Save a horse, ride a pillow. Turns out, Harry isn't always so forgiving.

~ Red*

The one where your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, comes home covered in wounds and bruises. And the sight is more than you can handle.

(CW: Use of a safeword!)

~ Lost

Harry's worst nightmare has finally come true: You've been taken. And he plans to do everything in his power to find you.

~ Found

The one where Harry has to put you in danger in order to keep you safe.

~ Home

The one where your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has finally gotten you back. But everything is about to change.

~ Scream* (Halloween Extra)

The one where your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, plans out a Fall Day of Fun. Scary movies included.

The Blurbs:

~ The one where Harry makes you ride his thigh in the middle of a crowded restaurant*

~ The one where Harry is determined to make you pay, Christmas Trees be damned*

~ The one where you aren't feeling so hot and Harry and Asher just want to help*

[cinnamonone]

You make them love each other right now please 😭😭😭😭😭

That was so good. I love an intox kink sooooooo much.

special smokes [weedrry]

summary: harry and y/n struggle with their self-control after sharing a joint at niall’s house party. 

word count: 3,774

warnings: mentions and consumption of marijuana (smoking a joint) and alcohol, smut; kissing, teasing, swearing, dirty talk, oral (male receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, light spanking 

a/n: at first i had no intention of following up on weedrry and y/n but so many requested it and the more i considered it, the more ideas i kept getting hehe. they’re probably one of my favourite couples to write at this point and i have some other ideas in the woodwork for them aswell!! this is technically part two of special brownies but it can also be read as a standalone :) anyway, i hope you enjoy darlings and happy belated 420 hehe <3

//

They promised to never talk about it again. But that didn’t stop either of them lying in bed at night, reminiscing how each other tasted. It didn’t stop Harry from thinking about his roommate as he touched himself in the shower and painted the tiles with his come. Just like it didn’t stop Y/N from pretending her thick dildo was Harry’s cock when she got herself off at three in the morning.

Neither of them was aware of the other's shenanigans. Harry thought Y/N was too embarrassed to think about it and Y/N thought Harry just forgot. Of course, Tom’s none the wiser to anything that’s happened. Even living with the two, he’s yet to notice that slight shift in the atmosphere – that tension that seems to follow wherever they go together.  

And tonight is no different. They’re both slightly turned on at the thought of one another as they sit huddled around the fire in Niall’s garden. He’s one of the few friends who was sensible enough to apply for a house rather than an apartment, and Harry is always sure to reap the benefits of it. 

It’s nearly ten o’clock and the house party Niall threw for his birthday is in full swing. Y/N recognises a few faces, not nearly as many as Harry (who’s known to have been a bit of a serial dater in the past), but it doesn’t change her mood in the slightest. 

She’s been perched on a sun lounger for the past forty-five minutes, five drinks in and slowly starting to feel the buzz of the alcohol. She promised herself she wouldn’t drink too heavily tonight – not when she knows how sleepy she gets with alcohol. She doesn’t want to be found passed out on some random person's bed that Niall houseshares with. 

Harry’s been sporting the same beer for the past half an hour. Much like Y/N, he also wasn’t really in the mood to get shitfaced, despite it being his best friend's birthday. He has a job interview tomorrow afternoon and he cannot deal with cradling a hangover at the same time. 

His eyes have been on her body most of the night. Despite living together, he’s hardly seen Y/N at home in the past two weeks since… well… you know. At first, he thought she was just busy, but now he’s starting to get the idea that she’s avoiding him. 

Harry’s sure it’s down to embarrassment, and as much as he wants his friend back, he promised he wouldn’t bring it up again. He doesn’t want to embarrass Y/N any further. It hurts his ego a little bit if he’s honest. Harry struggles to understand if she’s embarrassed she slept with her friend, or if she’s embarrassed because she slept with him.

If he pulled his head out of his ass, he might realise that it’s the former. Mostly. Because the other half of what she’s feeling is pure lust. Y/N struggles to even look at Harry the same since they hooked up two weeks ago. When she looks at him, all she sees is him naked – so she’s certain he sees the same when he looks at her. 

She takes another swig of her drink in an attempt to drown the groan that tries to escape. God, it’s criminal how even just the thought of him naked manages to get her worked up like this. He’s her friend for crying out loud. She needs to get her thoughts in order.

Harry’s telling himself the same thing. Struggling to think of anything other than kissing up her smooth, exposed thighs and burying his head under her little sundress right there, in front of everyone to see. His cock stiffens slightly in his pants and he shifts a little in his chair – as discretely as he can. 

“Who’s up for a round of spin the bottle!”

The group in the garden chant a groan in unison at Niall’s suggestion. “We’re not fifteen, Ni… nobody wants to play spin the bottle.” Alfie pipes up from his crisscrossed position on the patio floor. 

Niall rolls his eyes and places an empty wine bottle in the middle of the group anyway. Involuntarily, everyone begins to form a circle around it, knees knocking as they do. Y/N remains on the deck chair, pulling the back up so she sits upright like Harry who’s still opposite her.

Niall gets comfortable on the ground, his eyes alight like a kid on Christmas. He’s about to take his turn when he furrows his brows and begins to pat down his pockets like he’s forgotten something. 

“Anybody got a smoke?”

“Nah,” Jessie calls back, “I’ve got a couple of joints, though.” 

Harry and Y/N’s eyes find one another as their bodies grow paralysed at the mention of the one thing that got them in this situation in the first place. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

“Oooh,” Niall grins, “Jessie’s got the special smokes… come on then, lad. Light ‘em up and pass ‘em around.” 

Y/N’s heart begins to thump against her ribcage as she tears her gaze away from Harry’s. There’s no way in Hell this is happening right now. She tells herself to calm down, that she doesn’t have to have a pull of the joint. 

But as it makes its way around the circle until it’s between her fingers, she finds herself taking a long, deep drag of it anyway. It burns the back of her throat, as weed always has, but she holds it for as long as she can before slowly exhaling and passing it back down to Niall who sits in front of her. 

When she lifts her gaze, her eyes lock on Harry’s. There’s a shit-eating grin on his face as he holds the second joint between his fingers – like he knows they’re going to end up in the same situation as last time and he’s more than okay with that. Harry takes a drag just as Y/N had and passes it off to Genevieve next to him. 

Harry manages to hold it in longer than Y/N can and he keeps his eyes locked on hers when he slowly exhales. When the joint makes its way back to Y/N and she’s taking her second pull, she’s giving in to all the dirty thoughts in her head. Her wicked smirk matches Harry’s now and the game of spin the bottle begins. 

Niall starts first, landing on Genevieve who he kisses quite happily. Gen spins and lands on Jessie. Then when Jessie spins, he lands on… Y/N. 

Her eyes are quick to flicker between him and Harry as she registers the situation. There’s a third and fourth joint passing through the group and for a moment, she’s too stoned to realise what’s going on. 

There’s a look on Harry’s face, though – an unamused one. His jaw is set tightly and his brows are gently pinched as he watches Jessie approach Y/N with a lopsided grin. He doesn’t understand why anger begins to bubble in the pit of his stomach. And Y/N doesn’t understand why she feels so weird about being kissed by someone else in front of him. 

But she welcomes Jessie’s lips against hers anyway. It’s soft, gentle. He’s not a bad kisser, but after a few seconds, he pulls away and hands her the joint before returning to his seat. She looks to Harry again with pursed lips and he’s chewing at the inside of his cheek. 

Y/N takes another pull for the joint and reaches for the bottle when Niall’s hand on hers stops her. 

“I have an idea to make this more interesting.” 

She looks at him, eyebrow raised. 

“You have to hook up with the person it lands on.”

Her eyes widen and a laugh rumbles from her chest. “Niall, you can’t make me hook up with anyone. That’s not how this game works. You’re not fucking Cupid.” 

Niall frowns, displeased by her attitude. He crosses his arms over his chest and pinches the joint from her fingers, huffing. “Fine.” 

Y/N spins the bottle, leaning back as she watches it rotate until it lands on Harry. His eyes are on hers, hungry. She takes a deep breath and clears her throat, stepping between people as she approaches him. 

Harry cranes his head up, still not entirely happy that she kissed Jessie, but he welcomes her mouth on his instantly. They’re lustful, almost forgetting their surroundings as Harry swipes his tongue across her bottom lip. She’s about to do the same, to tangle her fingers in his hair when whistling and cheering breaks them apart. 

They’re both incredibly flushed and hot as Y/N moves back to her seat, licking over her bottom lip for another distant taste of him. Harry’s no better, his cock beginning to swell. He clears his throat and leans down to take his turn.

There’s a resounding gasp as it lands on Y/N and they're forced to kiss again, this time Harry approaching Y/N and kissing her a little hungrier. When she spins her turn, it lands back on Harry and the group is growing both tired and a little suspicious of the game. 

It gets harder and harder for them to keep their hands to themselves. The stolen kisses feed the fire in their bellies and Niall is quick to call off the game and suggest some truth or dare instead, like the fifteen-year-old he seems to be. 

Both Y/N and Harry hardly listen to the game unfold. Both are too stoned and lust-filled to pay attention to anything. They’re stealing glances from across the circle, sharing knowing looks that they’re both desperate to escape everyone else and hide away together somewhere. 

It goes on like this for another ten minutes and pinching the joint from Niall’s hand, Harry takes initiative and stands from his chair. “Y/N, shall we go and sort out Ni’s present now?” 

He’s got a brow raised expectantly and her eyes widen at his little fib. They both miss the way Niall looks between them with a beaming smile full of excitement. 

“You’s got me a present?” 

Y/N blinks, finally looking at her friend. “Oh, yeah! Sorry, we completely forgot. Do you mind if we get it sorted? It’s not quite finished yet.” She lies through her teeth. 

Harry’s smirk grows tenfold at the way she plays along with the little game and Niall nods his head. 

“Thanks, Ni,” Harry says kindly, voice a bit condescending but Niall’s too stoned to notice. “Do you mind if I smoke this in the house?” 

Niall waves his hand dismissively. “I don’t care, I do it all the time.” 

Harry looks back to Y/N, tilting his head to the door with a smirk. She follows him inside, giddy with lust and anticipation. He takes her hand in his, guiding her as he weaves through other party-goers until they reach the stairs. It’s a little quieter when they reach the top, Harry opening doors and quickly closing them when he finds they’re already occupied. 

He’s growing frustrated, only one room left that he hasn’t checked – Niall’s room. He tugs them both inside when he realises it’s empty, closing and locking the door behind them. Harry takes a pull of the joint and leaves it hanging between his lips as his fingers work on the buttons at the top of Y/N’s sundress. 

She’s full of adrenaline and arousal, unable to think clearly – her mind far too consumed by lust. Harry pops open just enough buttons to reveal her bare chest, breasts exposed to his hungry eyes and he groans. 

Taking the joint from his lips, he brings it to Y/N’s, encouraging her to take a hit. She does as instructed as Harry’s hands find her tits, kneading softly before he leans down to envelop her left nipple in his warm mouth. 

She exhales the smoke a bit prematurely, taking another pull to make up for it and with her free hand, her fingers tangle into his brown locks. 

“Harry,” she breathes and it’s like crack to him; hearing his name tumble off her lips like that. God, he wants that on repeat in his mind forever. 

He nips at the underswell of her breast, pinching the perk nipple between his fingers. “What do you want?” he mumbles against the fleshy skin.

Y/N tugs at the roots of his hair, forcing his head up until their eyes are level. She places the joint between his lips now and slowly begins to sink to her knees. 

“I want to taste you.” 

Harry’s eyes are blown and bloodshot as she begins to unbutton his pants, shimmying them down his thighs just enough to allow his cock to spring free. He’s bigger than she remembers him to be; thick and full and his ruddy tip begins to leak with arousal.

Y/N laps at his slit, allowing herself a taste. It’s an unholy sight – the way her breasts gently move as she closes her mouth around him. In Harry’s intoxicated state, everything feels so much more heightened. Her mouth feels warmer, wetter… the whole thing feels filthy and he loves it. 

She’s pressing slopping kisses along the length of him, angling her face to take his balls into her hot mouth as she pays them a little more attention. She pulls off him with a gentle kiss, staring up with doe eyes and a devilish grin. 

“Fuck my throat.”

Harry could’ve come there and then, hearing those words fall from her lips. He takes another drag of the joint before pinching it back between his fingers and placing his open palms on the side of her head – the smoke from the joint no doubt clinging to her hair. 

If she was sober, she’d tell him off for it. But she’s not and she doesn’t. 

Instead, she relaxes her jaw as her mouth opens and her tongue lays flat as Harry guides his cock back to the waiting hole. Taking a shaky breath, his hips slowly begin to move, getting her used to his size until he picks up momentum. 

Y/N’s eyes begin to sting, tears welling and his head hits the back of her throat, knocking the air from her lungs. Harry grows faster, eager. His chest is heaving and his lips part as he fucks into her. 

It’s obscene, the noises her throat makes as he shoves himself further down with every snap of his lips. Strings of saliva begin to drip from the corners of Y/N’s mouth as she gags around him, her throat contracting as she splutters on his cock. 

“Taking me so fucking well, baby.”

The praise goes straight to her cunt, wetness seeping through her little panties with every syllable he throws her way. Her eyes are shut tight now, unable to keep them open as Harry uses her for his own pleasure. 

It’s sloppy and messy and needy. Neither of them have experienced anything so fucking sexy in their lives. The sex was good before, but this time – sneaking around and much higher than previously – it’s even more intense. 

It doesn’t take much for Harry to near his end. And when Y/N cradles his heavy balls in her hand, fingernails ghosting over the divots of skin, Harry’s certain he’s about to meet his maker. 

He pulls out of her mouth harshly, not giving her the chance to tell him she needs his cum drowning her throat. His arousal is too quick to paint her chest, coating her nipples in creamy ecstasy as Y/N struggles to catch her breath. 

He comes, a lot, but his stamina doesn’t falter. She’s barely given chance to admire the artwork he marked her with before he’s tugging her up by the crook of her elbow. Y/N’s shoved against the foot of the bed, legs spread and ass in the air, tummy on the mattress. 

Harry’s hands are hungry on her hips, bunching up the bottom of her sundress until it rests on her lower back. He feels over her subtle asscheeks, offering three spanks to her left and whimpering as the fleshy skin wobbles. 

“Harry, please.”

She’s whining now, eager to be filled again. Harry tugs her little thong to the side, her cunt glistening and puffy from neglect. He wants to taste her, spend an eternity between her soaked thighs but the way Y/N wiggles her hips and backs up against him suggests she needs something more right now. 

“I just wanna taste you for a bit,” he says. 

She’s shaking her head, despite how badly she wants to feel him lapping up her pussy. She’s far too soaked and horny to settle for his tongue right now.

“Next time.”

Harry’s heart races a little at that. Next time? So, she plans for there to be. Not that Harry has a problem with it. He’d be more than fucking happy to make this a regualr thing if she wanted it. 

Listening to her request, he lines his head with her entrance, pushing through her folds to coat himself in her slickness. Her legs are trembling in need, face smushed into the blanket and she knows she’s ruining it with her makeup and the come that covers her tits, but she cannot bring herself to care. 

With the joint still between his fingers, Harry brings it back to his lips for another drag. He lines himself back with her puckering hole and gentle sheaths inside. She’s tight – tighter than he remembers – and her walls are so fucking slick it feels like he’s being swallowed whole. 

A shriek escapes Y/N’s mouth at the familiar intrusion, the way he stretches and fills her to the brim. Her mind feels dizzy, vision dotting with white lights as Harry begins to fuck the soul out of her. 

It’s fast and deep, and she’s quick to soak his pubic bone with arousal. Harry leans over her body, guiding the joint to her lips, allowing her a puff. “Hold onto that for me, gorgeous.” 

She takes it from her lips and stretches her arm above her head, wrist against the blanket and joint pointing in the air. His hands are back on her hips as he grips her tight. 

“Good girl, angel.” 

Smack!

His pace is criminal, balls slapping against her throbbing clit with every hit of his hips that he delivers. She’s struggling to stay coherent, unable to string a sentence together as she begs him for more, more, more. 

Harry grips her hips hard, bringing her cunt to him as he fucks into her. Y/N’s body is limp — lets him use her as a toy for his own pleasure and takes whatever he offers. 

She shouldn’t enjoy this so much, getting fucked by her friend, her roommate. But it’s too good to realise they’re stepping on dangerous territory. With the promise of next time. 

“Tight little cunt was fucking made for me.” 

“It’s yours! I’m yours!” 

Her words are a struggle to speak, heart in her throat as her pussy drips for him. It’s too much for Harry. To see her so bare and willing and done for him. To know the affect he has on her, to be buried so fucking deep in her cunt that she can hardly talk. 

His orgasm creeps up on him quickly, cock twitching within the tight confinements of her walls. She feels it, she feels everything. And it only spurs her release on, too. 

Her cunt clenches around him, legs beginning to tremble and a wanton cry crawls out from her lips. “I’m gonna come!” 

Harry keeps his pace steady, coaxes her through it with deep and precise strokes. The tip of his cock continues to pinch at her cervix, the curve in his length rubbing deliciously against her g-spot. 

Y/N shudders around him, desperate to milk him for all he’s got as she explodes. She’s quick to bury her face into the blanket, muffling her screams as her vision spots black and white kaleidoscopes behind her eyes. 

“Give it to me, baby. Come all over me… that’s it.” 

He’s quick to follow, bursts of hot come painting the walls of her cunt and Harry stills inside of her, knees buckling as he tries to keep himself steady. 

It’s quiet for a moment, save for their heavy breathing and wheezing chests. 

It must be true what they say about post-nut clarity. Because as they come down from their highs, there’s a tension in the room that’s far too suffocating. And it only gets worse when Harry slowly pulls out of her cunt and leaves her bent over Niall’s bed, dripping onto the blanket beneath her. 

Harry clears his throat as he tucks himself back into his pants and watches Y/N wobble to her feet as she stands. They don’t look at each other, at least not face-to-face. 

Her tits are still out and his arousal on her chest has transferred to the blanket. She's quick to fix her dress and her underwear — more than a little uncomfortable with the feeling of Harry’s come dribbling out of her. 

She gnaws on the inside of her cheek. “We should leave separately, so no one suspects anything.” 

Harry’s not given much time to confer before she shimmies out of Niall’s room and down the hall to the closest bathroom. He’s left there, slightly stunned and a little embarrassed. It’s a bit confusing, it didn’t feel like a mistake after the last time. But now, with how quickly she wanted to leave, Harry worries she regrets it. 

He scratches at the back of his head, wincing at the sight of Niall’s blanket. There’s come stains on the green fabric and the joint that Y/N was supposed to hold had been dropped mid-orgasm and burnt a small hole through the blanket. 

Deciding it would be best to just replace it, Harry bunches the blanket up into a ball and shoves it in the trash can in the corner of the room — making a mental note to buy Niall a new one. 

It’s the least of his concerns, though. 

Because despite Harry’s worry about Y/N’s regret, he still craves her touch and her presence. And she’s just the same — cleaning herself up in the bathroom and splashing water in her face to try to calm down. 

All she can think about is how much she needs him and it doesn’t feel just sexual anymore. For either of them. 

What the hell have they gotten themselves into? 

//

let me know what you thought :)

tags: @stilesissaved @kiwitsayedsugar @savannahwendel @triski73 @stylesfever @kissfromadove

[cinnamonone]

on my knees

[cinnamonone]

good sensations can sometimes be extreme, and i know i personally enjoy a good few of those, so i wanted to know which of these types of pain are the most commonly enjoyed :)

basically my question is. am i such a touch deprived weirdo that i'll enjoy fucked up sensations no one else likes or am i normal

[cinnamonone]

me when a fic’s warnings say daddy kink slapping choking spitting face fucking spanking squirting overstimulation dumbification anal play bondage toys dirty talk cum play degradation

[cinnamonone]

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[cinnamonone]

Alright, reblog with your top 3 tracks from TTPD as of rn

[cinnamonone]

Choke her?

(With a sea view?)

tooth ache? bad move? just act normal??

[cinnamonone]

Mocha pot? Monday? It's all good hey you??

Choke her?

(With a sea view?)

tooth ache? bad move? just act normal??

[cinnamonone]

I just watched the fortnite music video and god damn did I remember why I love this woman. The visuals gutted me.

[cinnamonone]

Camp! The Movie.

[cinnamonone]

"I hate you too"

Our Place*

Summary: An extra for 404*

The one where Harry invites you back to his apartment for the first time and it doesn't go as planned.

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, breeding kink, angst (happy ending), use of a safe word

Harry’s apartment is nicer than you expected. 

The furniture is cozy, the décor is unique, and his bedroom is well kept. He even has fresh flowers on his kitchen table. 

It surprised you, even though it shouldn’t. Harry doesn’t seem like a dirty guy, but truthfully, you were still shocked to find he had both sheets on his bed and no clothes on the ground.

You take in the tiny details of his life as he kisses down your neck and slips his fingers into your jeans. He’d wrangled you onto the bed only seconds after you walked through the door. He didn’t want to give you a tour of the whole apartment. Just the bedroom. Which you were more than all right with. 

He’s oddly desperate, given the circumstances. Maybe he always is, but tonight feels different. Tonight feels…hopeful.

“Shit, Tink,” he groans into your ear when he feels how wet you’ve become. “S’this just because you rode my bike?”

You gently swat the back of his head. “Stop it.”

“What?” He noses under your jaw. “Felt you squirming back there, Princess. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how you were trying to get yourself off to the vibrations?”

You wince. You didn’t even realize you’d been doing it. “I was not, I was just…the adrenaline was a lot—”

“Uh-huh.” He laughs and something about it sounds like honey. “S’fine, baby. You know I don’t mind.”

“Well…I wasn’t—”

“Sure. Can I fuck you now?”

You huff. “That’s why I’m here.”

He rips your jeans down your legs, tossing them over his shoulder and somewhere onto the floor. The warm air feels good and it’s then that you realize he’s right. You’re soaked, all the way through your panties.

But instead of taunting you further, he only tugs them aside and pulls his cock out. 

“I think…” he murmurs as he lines himself up, “…it’s high time I got you pregnant.”

Your mouth falls open in a moan as he drops a glob of spit onto your clit and pushes in.  

You’ve noticed that his breeding kink makes an appearance more often than not these days. Which you aren’t exactly complaining about. After all, you have one, too. Mostly thanks to him.

But it surprises you all the same as he starts to work himself in and out of your tight cunt, whispering the filthiest promises. 

“Think I won’t do it, hm? I will. Swell this pretty belly with my cum. S’what it was made for, wasn’t it? To take me. Have my babies. Gonna stretch you so pretty…get your tits leaking. You’ll let me have a taste, won’t you, Princess?”

You try to respond but how can you? You feel as though you’ve been fucked dumb. Unable to hear anything past the pounding of blood in your ears.

His glasses start to slip down his nose. He almost always takes them off—they’re mostly for reading anyway. But you like the look of them. Like how studious it makes him seem...how scandalous.

So, you nudge them back up. Desperate to see him exactly the way he always is.

He smirks. “You all right there, Tink?”

You nod weakly. “Yes…yeah. M’fine.”

“Thinking about what I said?” He kisses down your chest. “Thinking about calling me Daddy for real? Having our babies?"

Our. A word you didn’t think belonged to you. Because Harry doesn’t belong to you. And you don’t belong to him. You’re two separate people. Even when you fuck, he’s in his world and you’re in yours. You weren’t meant to be an “our.”

You chalk this up to a slip of the tongue. Something you say when you're threatening to breed someone. And you choose not to give it any power. Because you know what happens if you do.

The fucking gets harder. Faster. He’s chasing a high. In fact, he's been chasing it since earlier in the bar when he saw you with another man. And you know he’s trying to hold off for you, but he wants to cum. He wants to paint your belly with his seed and fuck it back in. Wants to make good on his word even if he shouldn’t.

Your nails scratch down his back, damp and covered in sweat. But his muscles feel good in your hands and you whimper as you hike a leg over his hip and bury him in your pussy.

In your lust-filled haze, your attention drifts. Head rolling to the side as you focus on the soft grunts in your ear. 

But then, your eyes find something on his dresser.

Your heart stops.

In fact, everything stops. Your breathing, your noises, your gentle rolls to meet his thrusts.

It all stops. And you whisper, “Red.”

He quickly falls still. A rather impressive feat given how anxious he is to find release. From 100 to 0 in only seconds, and you almost feel guilty as you sense him glance at you.

“What’s wrong?” he asks through labored inhales. “What…what happened, what do you want me to do?”

But you don’t look back. You keep your focus on the piece of furniture in the corner of his room and you will yourself not to cry.

Eventually, he looks, too. And when he realizes, the air in the room shifts.

He lets out a soft sigh and drops his hand to your hip. Squeezing it once. “Tink…”

You say nothing. Tears are pooling behind your lashes and your chest feels tight. 

“Tink,” he tries again, firm. His grip tightens on your waist. “Tinkerbell—"

“She’s beautiful,” you breathe. You take in a soft gasp. “Oh, my god, Harry, she’s…she’s so beautiful.”

He’s quiet for only a moment. “Yeah. She was,” he agrees gently.

You can’t take your eyes away from the picture frame. The guilt is so much worse now than it was before. Your heart is in your throat, in your ears, lying on the floor next to your jeans. 

You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be here. In his bed—their bed—fucking the man she died loving. While he promises to get you pregnant and give you his babies.

And how is he so calm? How the fuck is he looking at her picture while still inside of you instead of screaming at you to leave his apartment? How can he be okay with cheating on her with you?

“Princess,” he says again, and grabs onto your jaw to force your focus back to him. “Talk to me, what do you want me to do?”

Your lashes flutter. “What?”

“You said red,” he reminds you. “Which means we stop. But I need to know if you’re in pain or if I can pull out?”

It takes a moment for you to blink the fog from your mind and understand. But when you do, your stomach wrenches. “I…wait, shit, I…I want you to finish, I just…I saw her photo, and—”

“I know,” he interrupts softly. He gives you a gentle smile. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been there. But red means stop. And we’re gonna honor that. No matter why you said it.”

You whimper. “Harry, wait—”

“I’m gonna pull out,” he says, ignoring your plea. “And then we’re gonna talk—”

“Harry…Harry come on, you can’t—”

But he does. Even though he winces as slips himself out, teeth gritting together to keep from coming. 

But once he’s out, he delicately closes your legs, and sits beside you. “Okay,” he begins. He keeps your eyes on him. “What’s going on up there?” 

He nods at your forehead and you want to cry. “Nothing, I just…I…”

“You’ve never seen her before.”

You shake your head. “I don’t think so.”

“And you weren’t expecting to see her now,” he says for you. “Especially when we were fucking.”

You sniffle. “It felt like we were cheating. Like I was helping you hurt her. And then…and then I got worried that maybe you only brought me back here so you could pretend I was her. You know? With all the stuff about…about babies…and us, and…and—”

“Okay, breathe,” he instructs. He cups your cheek and presses his thumb to your trembling lips. “Breathe, Tink. Slow.”

Forced to obey, you suck in shallow gasps for air until your heart rate slows and your head doesn’t feel so dizzy.

Pleased, he says, “I know you’re not her, Tink. I don’t want you to be.”

Your expression softens.

“I brought you here because you’re the only person I want to see in the place she once lived,” he continues. His voice is strong. Steady. Like he’s given this far more thought than you anticipated. “After she died, I left it the same. I didn’t touch anything. Not the furniture she picked out. Not the dumb, cute little bowls she insisted we buy. Not the coffee pot that doesn’t work but she loved because she swore it made her coffee taste better. None of it.”

The tears fall down your cheeks, fast and without mercy. 

“I didn’t invite people over because I wanted to pretend she still lived here,” he tells you. “I wanted it to still be our place. Not just mine. And the thought of bringing someone else back here felt…wrong.”

You grab onto his wrist to keep his hand close and he smiles. 

“And then you,” he murmurs, dipping down to nuzzle his nose against yours. A display of affection you’d never expect from him. “And yeah, you’re annoying, and I hate you. But she would have fucking loved you.”

You nearly sob. 

“I want you here,” he says. “I want to talk about getting you pregnant and having our babies. I want to fuck you on this bed and I want to make you cry for a very different reason.”

You laugh through the tears.

“Look, I don’t believe in guardian angels and an afterlife and all that shit,” he admits. “But sometimes, I swear she sent you to me. And yeah, I probably should have moved the picture first. That was my fault, I haven’t had anyone in here in a while. But…you’re not her, Tink. You’re you. And that’s exactly who I want you to be.”

You can’t stop the next wave of emotion as you sling your arms around his neck and pull him close. He chuckles in your embrace but doesn’t fight you. He holds you, too. For as long as you both need.

“I hate you, too,” you finally whisper.

He smiles.

“Harry?”

“Mm?”

“…can we please finish now?”

He leans back to see you. “Are you sure?”

“Very.” You kiss him. “After all, you promised to get me pregnant. And I can’t leave until you do, Daddy."

The groan against your lips is delicious and devious.

And it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

“As you wish.”

WHY DID THIS MAKE ME WANT TO CRY!!! ALSO HI I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!

Previous Part:

~ The one where Harry gets jealous (again)

~ Full 404 Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin

@justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda

@vamprry @fdl305 @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach

@lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana

@dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley

@myalovesharry @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus @kirstiea05 @lovrave

@nuggetdean @triski73 @finelinesss

[cinnamonone]

It started out as "oh my god will you two fuck already

to

"omg please just get married y'all are exhausting"

in the break room

So at this point in 404rry do the people they work with realize that they're kinda together or do they think they hate eachother but have obvious sexual tension?

I would say they’ve probably figured it out that they’re fucking but nobody says anything to them bc 1. They’re terrified of Harry and 2. They figure they’ll deny it anyway HAHAH

But they def have probably guessed just bc….like hello ALSMA those two are everything but subtle