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kiwi-claire · 12 days
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COMPLETED✅
PAIRING: Professor!Harry X Reader
WHAT IT'S ABOUT: You've been struggling to finish your assignment for Professor Styles' Creative Writing class. Inspiration is seem to be avoiding you, so to relieve some stress, you mess around with your roommates and write a rather dirty fiction of the hot professor everyone is into on campus. Due to a fatal mistake however, you end up uploading the wrong file as your attachment to your assignment and your wildest fantasies end up in the hands of the person they are about.
A/N: This story is fully FICTION! There might be things you don't agree with morally, characters are made up, they don't resemble the people they are in real life, so please keep this in mind while reading!
READ IT ON WATTPAD
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TOTAL WORD COUNT: 102k
⚫ PART ONE
⚫ PART TWO
⚫ PART THREE
⚫ PART FOUR
⚫ PART FIVE
⚫ PART SIX
⚫ PART SEVEN
⚫ PART EIGHT
⚫ PART NINE
⚫ PART TEN
⚫ PART ELEVEN
⚫ PART TWELVE
⚫ PART THIRTEEN
⚫ PART FOURTEEN
⚫ PART FIFTEEN
⚫ PART SIXTEEN
⚫ PART SEVENTEEN
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EXTRA BLURBS
Blank Page - Y/N and Harry decides to move in together.
Nostalgia - Y/N and Harry take a trip down memory lane as they visit the campus again, this time as a family of two and a half.
Welcome To Creative Writing - The first time Y/N and Harry saw each other.
3K notes · View notes
kiwi-claire · 2 months
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flower [tattooH x Innocenty/n]
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synopsis: harry's the boy next door, he's also a tattoo artist aannd y/n's sexual awakening because she's an innocent virgin with a flower shop. 
word count: 8.6k
content warnings: smut (fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, virgin Y/N) 
my first imagine !! i hope u enjoy it !! i enjoy it here very much !
. . .
Y/N had been having a terrible week.
She owned a flower shop called 'Sweet Juniper' which had been hers for almost an entire year. It had been her dream to share her love of flowers with everybody so when she finally saved enough money to set up a shop, she worked tirelessly to make it the best possible floral shop the town had ever seen.
People would put in special requests if they needed flower arrangements for special occasions or others would just come by to just lift their mood a little bit if they were having a tough day. Y/N loved her customers and spent so much time chatting throughout the day all whilst tending to her plants.
But this week was not fun.
The shop next door had been empty for a long time now - ever since Y/N had set up shop. She lived in the flat above the shop so it was ideal not to have to handle any neighbours. But the past few weeks, decorators and construction workers had been making a lot of noise - fixing up the empty shop - which meant someone was moving in.
Y/N hadn't met them yet so she wasn't sure what the shop next door would be. The town was relatively quiet so she expected a bakery or maybe a clothing boutique. Only yesterday, with the shop all set up and ready to go, she found it to be nothing of the sort.
It was dark and music pulsed through the walls of her flower shop. The heavy bass made it sound like someone was trying to fight their way through the floorboards she had painted a very, very light pink.
Her customers had complained especially the older bunch. They had trouble concentrating whenever they tried to talk to her or hear her advice on what the best flowers were during the current autumn season.
So after a not-so-fun week and frequent visits to the corner shop to top up her headache medication, Y/N made the decision to confront her new neighbour and tell them exactly how she felt. She wasn't going to let her flower shop fail because of an inconsiderate, noisy fool.
Y/N flipped the sigh from 'open' to 'closed' and took off her apron which had her name in swirly handwriting embroidered onto the breast pocket. She took three deep breaths and mentally went through her speech. She wouldn't be unkind but she would be fair.
"You can do this Y/N," She said to herself before she exhaled and opened the door to walk five steps over to her next-door neighbour.
She hadn't seen the shop properly since the decorating was completed so was immediately struck by how dark it was in comparison to her own shop. It was painted black with illustrations and pictures of people's tattoos set up in the shop window.
The pavement was lit up in the darkness by the red neon lights coming from inside the shop. Everything about it was so different to her baby pink and white flower shop.
The sudden thought of turning back and going upstairs to her apartment almost tempted her enough to turn away but she knew the problem would not be resolved if she were to sit by and do nothing.
Her Mary Jane heels tapped against the pavement as she came to stand in front of the door. It seemed as though the shop was still open, so she pushed the door and stepped inside.
The smell of tobacco and musk and ink hit her senses as she closed the door behind her. The heavy bass of the music was now pounding through her ears. The nerves were rising within her and turning back seemed much more tempting now.
She spun on her heel and reached for the door handle, only to be stopped by someone clearing their throat.
"Are you here for a tattoo?" His voice was deep, husky and... pretty.
She turned around and was met with a tall figure standing in the doorway to the back of the shop. His arms were by his side and he was wearing a black, fitted shirt with black trousers and low cut doc martens with red laces. His face was illuminated by the red, neon sign on the wall with the words 'Styles INK' written in a grungey font.
"T-tattoo?" She gulped, the script she had rehearsed over and over again was nowhere to be found like the words had silently fallen from her brain, through her nose and slipped from her mouth before she had time to speak them out loud.
He walked to the front desk, footsteps heavy against the wooden floor. "We don't take walk-ins this late at night if that's what you're after."
The tone of his voice made her tremble in her heels. She curled her fingers into a fist and tried to stop her heart from beating so fast. "I-I'm not here for a tattoo. I-I'm actually from next door."
His head lifted up, she could finally see the colour of his eyes were a pale green and his hair was curly and brunette. "Ahhh," He dropped the pen he was fiddling with on the desk, "The flower girl."
She huffed, "Yes, that would be me."
"M allergic to flowers." He said.
"W-what? Why would you set up shop next to a flower shop then?" She asked.
"Only place that offered a space with an apartment." A breath slipped past her lips.
He was not only her shop neighbour but her neighbour neighbour too.
Well, this just made things a bit more awkward.
He came in front of the desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms. Y/N saw every inch of the skin on his arm littered with tattoos and even caught a glimpse of his ring-clad fingers. "Listen, if you're not here for a tattoo then why are you here? I need to close up so I'd appreciate it if you were quick with whatever it is you came here for."
Y/N swallowed her nerves, "Your music is too loud a-and it's driving my customers away."
"What was that?" He wanted her to repeat herself.
"Y-Your music, it's much too loud and my customers are c-complaining." She wished she didn't stutter but at least she got what she needed to say out.
"My music?" His eyebrows scrunch up.
"Yes." She nods.
"What about your music?" He retorts, "s all I can hear when I'm upstairs."
She immediately blushes and wonders how long he has been staying in the apartment upstairs. Y/N was so used to not having neighbours that she hadn't thought to turn her music down or take a break from her lonesome karaoke nights.
"That's different."
"If I have to hear you sing to that broken-hearted, bubble-gum pop princess every night then you can't complain about me playing my music like I have." He argues.
"B-but I don't play it in the day like you do! It's so loud! It is - hey quit laughing!" She huffs when he snickers at her.
"M sorry, you're just so little." He laughs. "Maybe that's why I haven't seen you since I've moved in."
Y/N crossed her arms, "I'd just appreciate it if you turned your music down a little, just so my customers can shop for their flowers in peace."
He says nothing. Instead, his eyes scan her face and then fall on the rest of her. She was wearing light blue jeans and a pink, cosy sweater. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail with a white, silk ribbon and her heels were still on her now aching feet.
He smirks, "Alright, I'll turn my music down but you have to do the same. I don't want to hear you sing about Romeo and Juliet or running out of the woods at 11 o'clock at night when I'm trying to relax."
She turns pink but luckily the red light hides the true colour of her cheeks, "Fine." She huffs and turns on her heel, too embarassed to say anything else.
"It was nice to meet you, flower." He says and she swears she can hear him smiling.
Her entire face heats at the nickname.
***
The next day, Y/N walked downstairs to her flower shop and prepared for a new day. She spent the rest of her night after visiting the stranger next door, quietly listening to music in hopes he would reciprocate today.
She hadn't seen him since last night and part of her was grateful for that. He was tall and intimidating and covered in tattoos but his voice was just so...nice that she couldn't seem to get the thought of him out of her head since she walked out of his tattoo shop. It was embarrassing to admit and Y/N was awfully bad at hiding her emotions so she hoped that would be the last time she'd speak to him face to face.
When she flipped the sign on the door to 'open', she held her breath as she waited for the sound of heavy, rock music coming through the walls only to find complete silence. She smiled and mindfully tapped herself on the back for being brave enough to go over and stand her ground.
Her customers were happy with the change too. They stayed and chatted with Y/N for a while, bringing home their baskets of flowers. The day had been much more successful than the past week had and she was thankful things would finally get back on track.
After cleaning the shop at the end of the day, she walked upstairs to her apartment and immediately decided to get into her new cute pyjamas she had ordered from Hollister - long trouser bottoms and a cute tank top both covered in the same pink, ditsy floral print.
She made herself some dinner and snuggled up on her tiny couch with her pet cat, Marshel, nestling to the side of her. Y/N hummed in delight when she made the decision to re-watch her favourite Harry Potter movie- it was the best film for the autumn weather.
Ten minutes into the movie sounds of people speaking and loud music sounded through the walls of her apartment. "Oh please no," She looked up at the ceiling, praying that someone out there would put her out of her misery.
It could only be her new neighbour, the tattoo artist, the one with the nice voice.
She pressed her ear against the door of her apartment and from the racket of people speaking and how loud the music was, she knew he was having a party.
"It's going to be a long night Marsh." She sighs, picking up her kitty and carrying him to bed.
At 2 am, Y/N was still awake. The party was still going and the music had yet to quieten down.
Y/N had been tossing and turning all night. Tears in her eyes as she tried to sleep but couldn't because of the loud noises coming from next door. At this rate, she'd only get four hours of sleep before she had to be up again for the busiest day of the week at the shop.
She couldn't handle it anymore. She flipped her duvet off and swung her legs over the bed. Her eyes fighting to stay open as she stumbled for the door.
At this rate, she was so tired she didn't care how she looked. She just wanted the quiet.
She flung her front door open and already found herself outside the tattoo artist's door. She knocked but the music was so loud, the only thing she could do was invite herself in.
The door opened and suddenly she was in a whole new world. There was cigarette smoke and a strong stench of alcohol. It was dark but red LED lights lit the room. People were laying on the floor or sitting around chairs or dancing in the empty spaces. There must have been about thirty people but with how tiny the apartment was it felt like much more.
Y/N took a deep breath and began her mission to find the source of where the music was coming from. Everyone was much taller than her which made it harder for her to push past people, especially in their drunken state.
"Excuse me please," she mumbled.
"Flower," his voice made her freeze in place.
She stilled and spun round on her sock-covered feet, making a mental note to throw them in the trash when she got home.
The person standing in front of her looked the same, wearing the same all black outfit he wore yesterday. She could see the illustrations of his tattoos a little better this close and she could also see the anger that covered the features of his face.
"Y-you." She said through parted lips, unable to hide her fear or shock.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a corner of the room. He placed his hand on the wall behind her and covered her with his body like he wanted to hide her away.
"The m-music it's too loud and I-I can't sleep." She said, nearing on tears.
"You and your loud music." He muttered, "It's Saturday night. Shops aren't open on a Sunday."
"Mine is." She said.
"What?"
"I open my shop on a Sunday. I do work shops for little kids whose parents have to work on weekends and for elderly people who get a little lonely." It was her favourite day of the week but now she was dreading it because of the lack of sleep.
His expression seemed to soften but he rolled his eyes, "Of course you do."
"I just need to sleep for four more hours and then you can carry on doing whatever you're doing." He smirked.
"You've never been to a party before flower girl?" She shook her head and yawned.
Harry's smile fell and he sighed. He looked around at the party and then at the sleepy girl in front of him. "Fucks sake." He muttered and wrapped an arm around her.
Y/N's eyes widened when his hand rested on her shoulder. He tucked her into his side and quickly manoeuvred past everybody.
"Is that your new girl Styles?"
"Nice one, H."
"Have fun Styles."
"Ignore them." Harry told her as he reached their front door.
"Is that your name? Styles?" Y/N realised she had yet to ask what his name actually was.
"S Harry. You call me Harry." He says and she smiles at how normal and soft his name was compared to his dark and grizzly stature.
She hadn't realised what he was doing until he opened the door to her apartment. She gasped, suddenly wide awake and highly alert considering he was now in her very messy, untidy apartment.
"W-what are you doing?" She ran to her sofa and picked her blankets up from the floor before grabbing her bowl of popcorn from the coffee table that was littered with books and magazines she was halfway through reading.
Harry's eyes darted around her small apartment. The corner of his lips flinched into an almost smile when he saw the pastel colours littered around the place. It was so her - cute and cosy.
"You wanted to sleep." He said, "M helping you sleep."
Her mouth opened and closed in shock, "Helping me sleep?"
"Mhm, I've got these," He pulled out some earbuds from his pocket, "They're noise cancelling. Can't hear a sound when you've got them in your ears."
She looked at them in intrigue, "Where's your room?" He wondered, already walking in the direction of her bedroom like he'd been in her apartment many times before.
"My room's a little untidy," She tried to get past him so she could block him from coming into her room but he was much too tall.
"Don't care flower, just helping you out." He walked into the messy bedroom and paid no mind to the state of the floor. She'd never had a man in her room before so wasn't sure exactly what to do. Her apartment seemed so much smaller from his presence alone. "Get into bed, love." He pulled out his phone.
"O-okay," She said and tucked herself under her blanket.
It was strange to let a person she barely knew into the confines of her room but she was too tired to care and something inside of her trusted him.
He crouched beside her, resting an arm on her mattress. "Here put these in," He handed her the headphones, "Can you hear me?" He asked but received no reply, instead, Y/N giggled.
"I can't hear you Harry!" She laughed and something weird happened in his chest.
He smiled, "Tha's good." He murmured and put on a song he knew she would like.
Her heart stopped beating in her chest when the gentle piano music began to play. An instrumental of 'Cardigan' by her favourite singer whispered into her ears as he played it on a low volume.
"Sleep now flower." He encouraged.
"M name's Y/N." She whispered, her eyes fluttering shut, "You can call me Y/N."
"Y/N," He whispered back and the name seemed to unlock something deep inside of him. He said it once more for good measure before leaving her there with the music still playing.
***
Y/N woke up the next morning with a phone that was not hers resting right by her head. She had managed to fall asleep for four hours thanks to the man who she now knew as Harry. She felt as though last night was a fever dream and Harry had been a guardian angel, granting her sleep at last.
She could have slept in for another four hours but the shop would not run itself and she had many workshops on today that a lot of people had signed up for. She grabbed Harry's phone and made a mental note to give it back to him before she went to open the shop.
She made herself a good breakfast and fed Marshel as well, before getting dressed into a grey mini dress with a cute white collar and an encrusted black bow. She tied her hair back into a half up, half down and fastened it with a black bow to match her dress. She wore the same black Mary Jane heels and a bag with her packed lunch inside.
When she left her apartment, she listened out for any loud music coming from Harry's apartment only to be met with silence. She knocked three times- his phone in her hands- but no one answered.
She'd come back later, she thought. Maybe he was also catching up on some much-needed sleep.
Her first workshop of the day was with a group of children.
Their parents worked weekends and some of them were from the orphanage that they had signed up to help them develop new hobbies. Y/N knew them all by name and loved teaching them how to grow their own tomato plants and arrange flowers with cute bows.
An hour before lunch, she had a class with a group of mothers whose children had just left home. Most of them came because they needed a little company on the weekends when not a lot was going on at home or they wanted to pick up a new hobby.
In the midst of her basket weaving session, Y/N heard a phone ring. She glanced at the phone still on the front desk and saw the screen lighting up. "Excuse me ladies," she slid off the chair and walked over to Harry's phone.
Mike Supplier was the name on the screen. She wondered whether or not it was important and if she should answer it just in case. The phone stopped ringing for a brief moment until the name lit up the screen again.
"Seems important, Y/N." One of the ladies said.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and walked to the back room, pressing the green button to accept the call. "Fucking finally!" A gruff voice speaks on the other end, "I've got your stash when do you want it?"
"Excuse me?" Y/N blushed, not use to such aggressive language.
The person paused, "Are you Styles' new lady? Listen can you put him on the phone? I need to speak to him urgently."
Y/N was in shock, "I'm not his lady! I'm his neighbour."
"Well, whatever you are could you just pass the phone to him?"
"Give me a second," She huffed, entering the shop again and turning towards the ladies who were in deep conversation, "Ladies, I just need a moment to go next door." They nodded.
Y/N could hear Mike Supplier cursing over the phone even as she had it by her side. She noticed Harry's shop was still unopened so went upstairs instead.
She knocked on the door of his apartment repeatedly until she finally heard footsteps coming towards the door. His door swung open, "Can I help you flower?" Her eyes widened.
He stood in the doorway with nothing but grey sweatpants and socks. His bare torso was littered with tattoos and his brunette hair was clipped with a tiny claw clip.
"Your p-phone," She held it out to him. His eyebrows furrowed like he had a lot of questions as to why she had his phone but he took it from her anyway and held it to his ear.
"Yeah, yeah shut up." He spoke. Y/N could still hear Mike Supplier talking on the other end. "Come by this afternoon. I'll wait outside the shop and don't wear that dodgy fucking hat this time."
The conversation ended and Y/N stood awkwardly in front of him. "Well I should go,"
"Wait," Harry stopped her "Did you steal my phone from me flower girl?"
"N-no! You left it in my apartment." She argued.
"Oh yeah," he grins like he was thinking back to being in her room last night, "Your lips go all pouty and you snore when you sleep you know that? 'S cute."
"Hey," she huffed, "I do not snore!"
"Whatever you say baby." Her cheeks warmed at the new nickname he had accidentally added to the seemingly growing collection.
"W-well who was that anyway. He was a little rude." She mumbled.
"You spoke to him?" He arched a brow, "was he rude to you?"
"He swore at me,"
"Dick." Harry muttered, "He's my supplier."
"Oh like for the shop?" She asked. Harry could have sworn he was having palpitations from how innocent she looked.
"No baby," he smirked, "a different kind of supplier."
"Oh," she said, still not fully understanding what he was getting at, "Well I better get down to the shop. My class is waiting for me."
"Sure I'll come with you." He grabbed a sweater and his jacket from the coat hanger.
"Wait, what? No."
"I'm bored and I want to hang out with you." He shrugs, "I don't see how that's a problem."
"You want to hang out with me?" She couldn't make sense of it.
"Mhm," He shut the door of his apartment behind him, "Lead the way, flower girl."
Y/N argued with him as they walked back downstairs. She tried to push him out of the shop before he could even step foot inside but she was too small for his 6ft frame and he gently grabbed her waist and picked her up as if she weighed nothing, stepping into the shop.
All eyes turned in their direction. Y/N blushed and stuttered as she said, "L-ladies, this is my neighbour."
"Hi, I'm Harry." He said from behind.
The ladies looked confused and then concerned and then suddenly they were grinning ear to ear, slipping out of their seats to welcome their new guest.
"Oh Harry, you look as old as my boy! It's so lovely to meet you." Mildred, one of the elder ladies said.
"Nice to meet you too." He spoke in a warm, almost flirtatious way.
Y/N stood there in shock, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Kathy and Lucy had already sat him in between them both and got him the things he needed to weave a basket.
"Are you interested in flowers Harry?" Julia asked.
He looked across the table over at Y/N whose cheeks seemed to be a shade of red they'd never even been before. "Only one."
"Oh well Y/N's an excellent teacher. We're making hanging baskets to plant daffodils in them for the spring."
"Hmm I guess I've come to the best place to learn then." His eyes remained fixed on Y/N who defeatedly picked up her basket to show Harry exactly how to make one himself.
"How are you so good at this?" Y/N whispered in awe as Harry finished his basket.
"These hands are good with fiddly things." He says.
"Oh that's wonderful Harry!" Kathy exclaimed, "You could take over Y/N's job. Might help her out and she can finally have a much deserved rest."
"S that right? You tired flower?" Harry murmured when he saw Y/N's eyes opening and closing as she leant against the desk.
"Not tried at all," she lied but Harry seemed to see right through her.
"Hmm," he frowned which immediately had Y/N standing straight and trying to disguise her exhaustion a little better.
"You hungry?" A tall shadow loomed in front of Y/N as she sat at the desk, processing payments for her classes and labelling the baskets for the ladies to take home.
She looked up and saw Harry, his voice now a familiarity after the last almost twenty four hours since she had met him. "A-a little." She decided not to lie this time since apparently, she was much easier to read than she thought.
"I've got food upstairs, wanna come up?" He asks.
"A-Are you sure?" 
"C'mon little flower, I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't mean it." With a nod, Y/N locked up the shop for lunch and followed Harry up to his apartment. When she stepped inside, it was completely different to how it had been last night. 
It was clean and tidy. A few boxes were lying on the carpeted floor of his open living room here and there, but for the most part, it was pretty neat. Y/N's eyes were immediately taken by the prints hanging up on the wall. 
"These are incredible." She gasped, feeling particularly fond of a line drawing of a woman. 
"It's my mother," He stood next to her, looking up at the drawing with her. 
"You drew it?" She asked, wide-eyed.
"Mhm," He hummed. 
"Wow, no wonder you're a tattoo artist," She glanced at the intricate tattoos littered on his arms. 
"Ever thought of getting one yourself?" He asked. 
"N-Not really, I'm no good with needles." She said, rather sheepishly. 
He smirked, "Let's get some food in that tummy." 
Twenty minutes later, Y/N and Harry sat on the small two-person couch eating sandwiches and a fruit salad they had prepared together in Harry's even smaller kitchen. Y/N giggled as Harry threw a grape into the air and tried to catch it in his mouth.
"T-tell me about your tattoos," Y/N insisted after taking a bite out of a strawberry. Harry's eyes looked down at her lips and back to her big, doe eyes. "What does this one mean?" She questioned, pointing to the words written in Hebrew.
"M' sisters name," He starts, "And that says 'Can I stay?'" 
"Hmm, you have a lot of hearts." She said, fingers lightly touching the human heart on his arm. 
"I have a lot of love." He grins, cheekily, like he knew the line was cheesy but wanted to use it anyway. He was glad he did from the smile it had formed on Y/N's face.
Y/N hadn't realised how close they had gotten until she felt his breath on her neck.  Her voice wavers slightly as she tries not to think too much about it, "And what about this one," She points to the rose, her fingers tracing the petals. 
"I did that one myself," He murmured, lips close to her ear. 
"You did?" She said but it came out more as a whisper. She seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, her brain turning to mush and all her thoughts suddenly turning into Harry. 
"Mhm," She glanced up and his deep, green eyes were already boring into her. Her eyes darted down to his lips and then back up again. "You're pretty," He mumbled, loud enough so she could hear.
She shook her head, "I-I don't think so," She was suddenly flustered and confused and wondering why her brain was not acting the way it usually did. 
"I know so," His hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ears, and she shudders when his fingertips brush against her cheek. Slowly his head inches forward and the nearer he gets it feels as though more oxygen leaves the room. "Relax," He whispers, touching her hand, "You're okay flower girl."
"H-Harry, I-I've never kissed anyone before." She admits, embarrassment flooding her. 
"What?" He furrows his eyebrows. 
"O-oh, it's just that... I've never been k-kissed before."
"By anyone?" She nods. "Impossible." He whispers.
"We can stop if you want to," He says, his voice gentle and comforting.
"No," She wraps her small fingers around his wrist before he pulls away, "I-I want to,"
"Want to what?" He smirks, "You've gotta tell me baby."
"I want to k-kiss you," She blushes, it's all she seems to do around him.
"Cute," He murmurs before his lips press to hers.
Y/N's not sure what to do at first, her eyes are open and shock courses through her, but Harry's lips move against hers and he breathes, "Relax flower," He insists and she does. 
Her eyes flutter shut and she mimics his movements. What he gives, she gives right back and a small whimper leaves her when he kisses her even harder. She starts to lose her breath with how long they kiss for but she's far too deep, floating too much, to pull away. She grabs the back of his neck and pulls him in closer, a groan eliciting from somewhere deep inside him. "Baby," The name escapes his lips and a shiver runs through her. 
With panting breaths, she pulls away and so does he. Her face is flushed and his lips are pink, "You okay?" Is the first thing he asks, receiving a nod. "I think 'm a little bit obsessed with you." He confesses.
"M-Me?" She couldn't believe what he was saying. 
"Don't think I've ever wanted anything more," He looks away like being vulnerable is a foreign thing for him.
"Why?" She can't help but ask.
He shrugs, "Sometimes it just is." 
She thinks on his words before replying, "Can we kiss again?" 
Harry chuckles, "Kiss me all you want flower."
. . .
Y/N had a permanent smile on her face the next day as she went back to work. People asked her what was making her so happy and she was constantly finding things to lie about instead of speaking the name of the tattooed boy next door. 
An hour before lunch, the postman came to deliver her new ribbons for the bouquets and accidentally dropped off a package meant for Harry. Y/N couldn't help but smile at his name written on a brown box. 
"Give me a second ladies, I'm just going to pop next door." Y/N grinned, ignoring the knowing looks of the ladies she was teaching. 
As Y/N walked next door, her confidence seemed to shrink with every step. She realised she had yet to go to Harry's tattoo shop when he was actually working and she knew she would stick out like a sore thumb once she took a step inside. She was wearing a lilac dress and white heels, of course, she was going to stand out.
The bell rang as she stepped inside and a few customers looked up, some of them doing a double take at the small girl. Music played through the speakers but it was a lot less quiet compared to the first day Harry's shop had opened. 
Footsteps walked on the wooden floorboards and Harry walked out from the back room. His eyes caught sight of Y/N and his frown immediately turned into a smile. He held his arms out for her and she quickly walked into his embrace. "Hi flower," He murmured into her hair. 
"I came to drop off your package," She held out the box to him when he let her out of his arms.
"Oh," He took the package from her, "That's all?"
She bit back a smile, "Mmm, I may have something very important to tell you," She gave him a not-so-subtle wink.
He grinned, almost wickedly, "Well, do follow me this way to tell me this very important thing," He led her way from the waiting area and somewhere closed off and hidden from everywhere else. 
When they were alone, he grabbed her hips and hoisted her up onto a countertop, knocking things over. "Harry," She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. 
"Shhh no more talking baby," He said before kissing her lips that he spent all night dreaming about. Their mouths were wet and hot against each other as they made out in a closet hidden away from Harry's customers.
His hands slid down her back and around her waist, pinching her hips, "Did you wear this dress f' me baby?" He murmured, the tone of his voice sending shivers up Y/N's spine. 
"Wanted to be pretty for you." She told him. She had spent all morning trying to find a nice outfit to wear, not only for work but for when she saw Harry too.
"Fuck," He groaned against her lips, "Where have you been all my life?" 
Y/N felt like a teenage girl getting all flustered and hot over a boy. She'd never experienced being with someone in this way before and now she had a taste for it and couldn't get enough of him. She had left Harry's apartment yesterday in a daze and she felt like she was still floating from the high of her first kiss. 
He stood in between her legs and she subconsciously rolled her hips against him. She gasped in both shock and at the feeling of him against her, "You're okay baby," He soothed her, sensing her confusion.
"Feels good huh?" He pulled her hips into him again and she felt a moan bubble in her throat. "Have you ever touched yourself Y/N?" He wondered. 
She froze, "N-no," She confessed, embarrassed. 
"Nothing to be ashamed of baby," He comforts her, his words soothing the insecure part of her. He kissed her lips softly, "Can I visit you this evening?"
She nods without even thinking about it, "Please," 
He smirks, "Please baby? Please? What are you asking for?"
She didn't know, her mind was foggy and all she could see was him, "Everything." 
His eyes darkened but his smirk never left, "'M polite little flower."
"Harry," She whined, burying her face in his neck. 
Harry laughed and cupped the back of her with his hand, kissing her forehead, "I'll come visit tonight and you better be wearing those cute pyjamas," He knew she was smiling because he could feel her lips against his neck. 
That evening after Y/N had closed the shop, she ran upstairs to her apartment and kicked off her heels. She ran around her living room, hiding things she didn't want Harry to see and flinging dirty laundry into the washing basket. 
She walked into her very pink bedroom and pulled out her pyjamas, happy to finally be wearing something comfortable. She spritzed some of her favourite perfume and rubbed vanilla lotion into her skin. 
Y/N sat on her sofa with Marshel seated by her feet on the carpeted floor. She switched on the TV and watched a few episodes of friends whilst continuing to finish her knitting project - she was making a blanket since one of the ladies from her group was pregnant and would be giving birth very soon. 
She fought to keep her eyes open as she waited for Harry to knock on her door. His shop was meant to have closed twenty minutes ago so she assumed he'd be here by now. 
Slowly, an hour had gone by and Y/N was getting worried. Her mind spun with insecurities and a sudden fear that something might have happened to Harry. She placed her knitting project on her coffee table and patted Marshel on the head. She walked to the door and slid her sock covered feet into her brown UGG boots. 
The shop was not its usual LED red colour when she came to stand in front of the window, instead it was neon blue. Y/N frowned when she heard music playing from inside and checked to see whether the door was open.
Her hand pushed the door handle, the door swinging open and the muffled music suddenly became coherent. She could hear voices coming from the back room where Harry tattooed his customers.
Walking towards the sound, Y/N eventually caught the sound of Harry's voice amongst the group of people chatting. Her shoulders relaxed at the thought of him being here, at least she knew she'd be okay if he was there with her. 
Turning the corner, her eyes landed on Harry with two other tattooed men, smoking something that - in Y/N's opinion - smelt a little strange. 
Harry must have sensed her presence as he turned his head and caught sight of her hiding behind the corner wall. He smiled, "Hey flower," 
"Hi," She murmured, feeling embarassed. 
"C'mere," He held out his arm for her and she scurried towards him, attaching herself to him by snuggling her body into his side. He put an arm around her, kissing her forehead. "I thought I was meeting you upstairs?"
Y/N frowned, "You took too long,"
He smirked, "M impatient girl," He nodded towards the two men he was talking to, "Y/N, these are 'm friends, Mike and Dan."
"Mike supplier," Y/N whispered, finally putting a face to the name of the man she had spoken to on Harry's phone.
He was tall and bald with a beard and looked to be in his forties. Like Harry, he also had tattoos but not nearly as much. Beside him was Dan who looked closer in age to Harry, maybe a little older. He was blonde but wore a cap on his head and a silver chain around his neck. 
After Harry had finished smoking with his friends, he said his goodbyes and led Y/N upstairs back to her apartment. "What were you smoking? It smelt funny," Y/N asked,"
Harry fell back onto the couch and pulled her down with him. She lay on top of him, the smell of the smoke still lingering on his clothes. "'S just a bit of weed." He confessed.
Y/N gasped, "Weed? Is that legal?" 
Harry looked at her amused, "Not here but it doesn't do much harm to me, been smoking it for ages." He twirled a piece of hair around his finger, "Does that bother you?"
She thought about it but the idea didn't really seem to phase her. As long as he was being safe and was using it in a healthy sort of way, she didn't mind. "N-no, not at all." Harry's smile widened into a grin. He didn't hesitate to kiss her, feeling her soft lips which had recently become his new obsession. They were so soft and red and kissable and made just for him. 
Y/N didn't want him to stop kissing her whenever he did. She loved the feeling of her eyes fluttering shut and all of her senses just filling up with him. Harry pulled away, still cupping her cheek in his hand. Y/N's chest heaved up and down against him as she tried to catch her breath, "Breathe, flower." His heart ached when she looked up at him with swollen red lips, trying to catch her breath. "Lose your breath a little bit huh?"
"A little," She huffed. 
"You're too cute." 
Y/N kissed him again once she had caught enough air again. Harry sat up, pulling on the roots of her hair as her legs wrapped around him so she was straddling him. She whimpered, tugging on the fabric of his t-shirt.
"What do you want baby?" Harry mumbles against her parted lips. 
"Take it off," She whispers, pulling on his shirt. 
Harry does as he's told, pulling his shirt up over his head and revealing his muscular, tattoed torso. Y/N's eyes widened. She'd never seen something so beautiful, he looked as though he was one of those marble statues in a museum. "Eyes on me baby," Harry smiled, pushing her chin up with his finger so her eyes were looking directly into his. "What now?"
"I-I-I don't know," She blushed, losing her confidence now that they were no longer kissing. 
"We don't have to do anything you don't want." He looked at her with a soft gaze.
"I-I don't want to disappoint you." She admits, her insecurities coming to the surface. 
"Couldn't disappoint me baby, ever." She smiles, feeling secure in his words and his hold. Y/N leans forward and rubs her cheek against his chest. Harry's hands go beneath the tank top of her pyjamas, brushing her bare back. "If it helps I've never done this before."
She's shocked but she tries to hide it, "W-what do you mean?"
"Been intimate with someone." 
She smiled. 
She really, really liked him.
. . .
For weeks after, Y/N was obsessed with two things. 
Her flower shop and her tattooed boyfriend next door.
When she wasn't working, she was with Harry, either cooking in his apartment or cuddling together on the couch in her living room. Harry had also developed a new taste for basket weaving, joining in on Y/N's Sunday classes with the elderly ladies in the morning. 
In the short time they had known each other, Y/N had come to learn that Harry wasn't a morning person but he never missed a Sunday class even when he was exhausted from the busy day before at the tattoo shop. He would stumble downstairs with dishevelled hair and sleepy eyes in sweatpants and a hoodie, sitting in his seat between Mildred and Julia as they fussed over him. 
Y/N had also grown a love for kissing Harry at every opportunity. She'd take many five-minute breaks, walking over to the tattoo shop and kissing Harry in the cupboard or visiting him in the alleyway behind the building where they'd make out against the brick wall. Even Harry had an addiction to his girlfriend's very kissable lips, sneaking out of his shop in between appointments to smother her in kisses in the storage cupboard. 
"Hey Marshy little fur ball," Y/N bit back a grin when she heard the door of her apartment open and the familiar gruff voice speak to her little cat. 
She swung her legs over her bed and paused the movie she was watching, running to the front door and leaping into his arms, "Hi flower," Harry murmured, inhaling the scent of her coconut shampoo. 
Y/N nuzzled her face against his jumper and squeezed him tightly, "Hi Harry," She sighed, blissfully.
"Wanted to come see ya, hope tha's okay." He kissed her quickly. 
"Course, I was watching a film in my room." She tugged on his hand and lead him to her bedroom. 
Harry had spent nights in Y/N's room before. Sometimes he would ask her if it was okay if he took a nap in her bed whenever he finished work early because it was much comfier than his. She'd find him curled up under her blankets, hugging one of her stuffed animals to his chest with the hood of his sweatshirt over his head.
Harry removes his sweatshirt, leaving him in only sweatpants, before he crawls into bed and pats the spot beside him. Y/N turns on the movie but knows that neither of them has any plans of watching it. 
With the amount of kissing they had been doing, Y/N hoped she had gotten a lot better. She realised Harry would often make small, quiet noises whenever she did something he liked, like tugging on his hair or sticking her tongue in his mouth. 
It wasn't long before they were making out again on her bed. Her leg hooked around his hip and her hands in his hair as he gripped her waist, every now and then he would squeeze her ass remembering the first time he did it and how much she loved it from the soft moans that left her. 
Y/N thought that kissing Harry was the best thing in the entire world but what she didn't know was that Harry had plenty more up his sleeve. 
His hand slid from her waist and down to her bare thigh - she was only wearing pyjama shorts since her apartment was pretty warm. He squeezed her softly, "Can I feel you baby?" He asked.
Y/N froze, not sure how to react. "I-I-"
Harry cupped her cheek, "I know," He already knew what she was thinking before she even said anything, "We can carry on doing what we're doing if you prefer. It's no rush." 
"N-no," She grabbed his wrist in both her hands. Y/N was a virgin but she wasn't afraid... Just inexperienced and that made her a little wary. But with Harry, she knew she wanted to allow that part of herself to him. Maybe not the whole thing but a little something. 
"Y-you can feel me... I-if you like." She said, awkwardly. 
Harry chuckles, "What about if you like, hmm?" His fingertip traced circles on her thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps. 
"I-I would l-like that p-please." She whispered.
Harry grinned, "Only because you're so polite sweet girl."
Harry's arm slides between her legs and hooks his fingers around her pyjamas bottoms to pull them down her legs. Y/N inwardly praised herself for shaving the night before yet she was pretty sure Harry wouldn't mind either way. Harry tuts when he sees her underwear, "Did m' little flower get all wet from kissing on daddy?" 
She felt the air leave the room and her body heat at the nickname. It was so dirty and yet she felt herself aching from his words. "Y-yes," She breathes. 
"Yes what baby?" He kisses up her thigh. 
"Yes daddy," She murmurs. 
Harry eyes darken as he looks down between her thighs, "My good, polite girl." He pinches the flesh on her thigh and she feels her chest heave.  Y/N gasps for air when his fingers trace the fabric of her underwear and her heart races even more when he moves her underwear to the side to see a part of herself no one had ever seen before.
"Fuck me," He whispers under his breath. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen." 
"R-really?" Y/N blushes, her cheeks hot.
"Don't think I've ever seen something so pretty." 
"T-thank you, daddy." She whispers the last part but it doesn't stop the bulge from growing in Harry's sweatpants. 
"Have you always been this needy when we kiss baby?" Harry murmured in her ear as his fingers part her pussy. He tries to stop himself from groaning at the slick wetness that coats his fingers.
Y/N gasps at the new feeling but is immediately overcome by pleasure as Harry begins to move his finger back up to her clit, "Harry," She whimpers. 
Harry's quick to pull his hand away, "Nuh uh baby, that's not my name."
Y/N's head was all dizzy but she managed to reply, "Daddy, please," She whines.
"Barely even touched you and you're already whining," He tuts before rubbing his thumb over her clit and making small, slow circles. Y/N whimpers at the new sensation of intense pleasure. "Does that feel good flower?" He asks, nipping her ear as he murmurs against it. 
"S-so good- so good daddy, so, so good." She babbles as he continues to tease her clit with his thumb. 
"Who'd have thought I had such a naughty girl hmm?" She arches into his touch as he moves his finger in a certain way. She wonders how she managed to go on for so long without feeling something so blissfully delightful. 
"Put your hand here baby," Harry instructs, reaching for her hand that wasn't currently scrunching the duvet, and placing it flat over the top of his, "Let me show you how to touch yourself. Watch daddy," Y/N's eyes look down to see his gold ring-clad fingers drenched in her wetness, his tattooed hand moving in circles as her rubs her clit. "This is how I want you to touch yourself when you think of me baby and when you're good, I'll make your perfect, little hole feel good too." Y/N gasps and clenches when he brushes a finger against her hole. 
"I-I'm good-Please, I'm good," She mewls and her hand grips his wrist instead. She uses it as leverage to twist and turn into him, the pleasure overwhelmingly good she can't help but hide her face in his neck. 
"You are good," He kisses her forehead, "My good girl." She nods at his praise, eyes shut. 
Harry forces her legs a part and continues to pleasure her in a way she didn't know about until today. She writhes and moans beneath his touch as he whispers dirty things into her ear. "I want you to cum baby, think you can do that?" 
"Mhm," She sighs, already feeling the bubble of pressure in her tummy. "F-feels - feel's s-so-" 
"Feel good m'love?" He coos, "Cum f' me. Cum f' daddy, wanna see you soak my hand." 
At his words, Y/N whimpers as she becomes increasingly sensitive the more he circles her clit. Harry feels as though he's about to explode as he watches her cheeks flush pink and she grinds her pussy against his hand as she rides out her orgasm. "That's it my little flower, so good." He praises her, feeling her shudder as she finishes coming down from her high.
She's panting heavily as Harry slides her panties back into place. "You okay?" Harry checks, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Y/N nods and instantly feels embarrassed, hiding herself in the crook of his neck. Harry chuckles, "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen."
"You're lying," Y/N says, her voice muffled against him.
"Never gonna lie to you flower, never." He promises. 
Y/N removes herself from her hiding place and looks up at him. Harry's heart bursts in his chest when she sees her sleepy, blissful gaze. He wonders where this girl has been all his life and how he managed to go this long without her. He was pretty sure he was falling in love with her but that was a conversation for another day.
"W-what about you?" Y/N looks down and sees the very noticeable bulge in his trousers. 
Harry shakes his head, "Not today," He smiles, "We have plenty of time to experiment some more but think you've had enough experimenting for one night."
"Me too," Y/N curls into his side, not bothering to put her pyjama bottoms back on. "Having sex is exhausting." 
"We didn't even have sex, silly girl." Harry laughs.
"Felt like it," She mumbles against him.
"I'm that good huh?" He grins, cheekily, "Just you wait baby,"
"The best," She slurs, yawning, "M so tired." 
"Yeah? You sleepy baby?" He kisses her forehead. "Get some sleep m'love," He wraps an arm around her and tucks her into his chest. 
"I like you very much Harry," She whispers, sleepily. 
"I like you very much too." Harry replies, holding her close.
psa don't let strangers into your room... actually don't let anyone into your room
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kiwi-claire · 3 months
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Tomato - Tomato (one-shot)
Synopsis: One is an international rock-star. The other is his loyal assistant. Both are complete morons in love. Also - she’s allergic to tomatoes, and it is important.
This started off as something completely else. hope you enjoy :D
Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Assistant!Reader
Genre: fluff, minor angst
Warnings: two idiots pining for one another, swearing, mentions of allergies and EpiPens
Word count: 3492
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Being an assistant to someone famous wasn’t all glamourous parties and wild nights out with celebrities. It was scheduling last minute flights and not sleeping for three days straight as you packed a million bags and then repacked because their stylist sent you knew pieces and the old ones no longer fit the aesthetic of the week.           It was also making sure that they were up by six AM with a hot coffee at their bedside ready to help them wake up as you lay out a detailed plan of the day down to the minute, while you yourself basically only had a two-hour nap because you had to finish off 568 handwritten notes to be sent out to each of the contacts in their phone. Or at least that’s what Y/N’s life was like being the personal assistant to none other than the modern-day prince of rock Harry Styles.            Said rockstar was actually still asleep when Y/N entered his room, ripping open the curtains and letting in the rising sun. He groaned, pulling up the bedsheets that’d ridden down his form during the night. “Not that I don’t like seeing your gorgeous face in the mornings
.” he mumbled into the covers. “But I don’t like seeing your face in the mornings when they start at six bloody AM.”           Y/N snorted and rolled her eyes, rubbing them in an attempt to get rid of the sleep that still lingered in her own body. “You were the one that said you’re fine with seeing Lambert at eight for a fitting.”           “When did I say that?” Harry scoffed, only the top of his messy bedhead seen from the cocoon he’d built around himself.           “Would you like me to pull up the text messages, the calendar or the e-mails?”           Even with her back turned as she rummaged through his closet for him to put on some clothes, she could sense the middle finger he threw at her, and she smiled.           Despite everything, despite the zero sleep and stress always coursing through her veins, Y/N loved working for him. He treated her as a friend, not just some lackey he paid to, but most importantly, comparatively to the other people she’d worked for in the same line of business – he treated her as a human.           If something went over the deadline, Harry didn’t scream or yell at her and tell Y/N how incompetent she was, instead he asked what kind of help or assistance she needed to get the job done, or maybe if she just needed some time off to gather herself and look at the problem with fresh eyes.           “I hate how organised you are,” Harry groaned, finally throwing the covers off.           “If I wasn’t, you’d be in a ditch somewhere.”           She heard him scoff and two feet plop against the hardwood floor as he made his way towards her. “Is that how little faith you have in me?”           “You don’t even know what day it is!”           “Who does in these times?”           Y/N shrugged her shoulders and handed him a pair of boxers, some loose jeans, and a flowery Hawaiian shirt. “Are you telling me I’m wrong though?”           She looked over to her side, a smirk playing on her lips while he squinted his green eyes at her. “No, but it doesn’t mean I like getting called out, especially this early in the morning.”
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kiwi-claire · 3 months
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Update - Harry Styles
i’ve been deep inmy harry feels and this thought just wouldn’t leave me alone so i had to write it. im thinking about starting a taglist for harry, i think i’ll write more about him in the future. let me know if you’d be interested in the taglist!
word count: ~5.9k
masterlist
Sequel: The best present
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Harry is not that into YouTube videos, has never really been, which is kind of ironic seeing the number of videos on the internet that is about him. The man himself who makes everyone talk online feels weird seeing someone talking on his screen, looking into his soul as if they were right there with him. But today he felt the sudden urge to be like his peers and get lost in random rambling videos from strangers, who felt the need to put themselves out there.
He has made a mean cup of tea for himself, made himself comfortable on his couch with his laptop balancing on his thighs and now is opening up his browser to unwind in an unusual way. As YouTube opens in front of his tired eyes, he stops when he tries to type in the keywords he is searching for. What is he looking for really? He thinks to himself trying to remember what he heard from his friends when they talked about funny or interesting videos. One thing is for sure, he is trying to avoid watching videos of himself in any content. He has had enough of him for the day, it’s time to focus on someone else, even if he doesn’t know the person.
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kiwi-claire · 3 months
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in which you’re harry’s assistant and harry needs to open his eyes.
a/n: ASSISANT!YN has finally arrived! this took me three weeks and a half to write, so please enjoy and kindly rb with feedback! i’ve had this concept in mind for SO long, and i’m proud of it! this is also inspired by my love for the barcelona pic, pictured on the left, that I think about on the daily along with some thoughts in a dressing room! also picture on the right at the final show is an aspect in the story as well!
also big thank you to my bestie @stylesloveclub for screaming and hyping this up for me while I rave about it, ily!
enjoy a long slowburn of 26.3k words of a friends to lovers fic that’s filled with angst and some smut! genuinely be ready for the angst hehe
COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALKING ABOUT WANT YOU HERE! i’d love to know your thoughts and feedback!
pls rb to share! <3
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16 December 2017
The smell of fresh flowers brought allergies to your senses as you shuffled and continuously rubbed your nose with a tissue. 
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kiwi-claire · 3 months
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Gold Coast (2/28) | Harry getting set up
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kiwi-claire · 3 months
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Harry Styles as Jack Chambers | Don't Worry Darling (2022) dir. Olivia Wilde
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kiwi-claire · 3 months
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FAVOURITE LOVE - HS
Summary: Harry’s daughter gets some valentines gifts from nursery
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“Dad, why’s Vi carrying flowers?” Blake asked, his eyebrow raised as he looked at his youngest sibling walk out the nursery doors. She had a white dress on, small red hearts covering it, her hair in two pigtails.
Harry looked up, his eyes wide as he watched his daughter skip her way down to the nursery gates to meet her father and brother. “No clue, bud” he replies, waving at his daughter, whose arms were overflowing with all sorts of gift bags and flowers.
“Hi Daddy, hi Blakey!” She exclaimed, a smile on her face.
“Hi bug, what’s all this about?” Harry asked as he crouched down in front of his daughter, fixing her hair before leaning to kiss her cheek.
“It’s valentines” the little girl giggles, looking down at all her gifts
Blake blinks, his eyebrows furrowed, “valentines?”
“Yes, this one’s from Jake, this one’s from Landon and this one’s from Kate’s brother and this is from-”
“Boys gave you those?”
“Duh, Jake is a boy name Blakey” Novie rolled her eyes at her brother before turning to her father, who now supported an amused look on his face. “Isn’t that nice Daddy? They smell so good” she giggled, taking a big sniff of the flowers before shoving it in Harry’s face.
“Yeah they’re lovely” he replies, before taking the gifts off her and handing them to Blake to hold. He puts his arms out and his 5-year-old happily accepts, climbing onto her dad. “But, I’m your only Valentine baby” he pouts causing a soft giggle to escape Novie's mouth as he makes his way to the car.
“Silly daddy, are you jealous?” She looks back at Blake who’s still as confused as ever, and surprisingly a lot less dramatic than Harry, “are you jealous too Blakey?”
“No” Blake gruffs, “I'm mad, you’re only a baby Vivi”
“I'm not a baby” Novie gasped, scandalised that Blake would even mention that. “Daddy, mama is your Valentine. I need my own and now I got lots”
“Yeah, you and Mama are my Valentine bug,” Harry speaks, buckling Novie into her seat as Blake gets in the front. After buckling her in, Harry rounds the car and gets into the driver's seat. “Your brothers and I are all you need, you can have a valentine when you’re 36 ok?” Harry asked, putting his key into the ignition.
“Daddy, that’s not fair” Novie says, as she holds one of the teddys that was gifted to her. “Blake has a valentine, why can’t I?” Harry raises his eyebrow at the new piece of information.
Whilst, Blake narrows his eyes as he looks at his little sister, the little snitch he thinks. “I don’t have a valentine, Vi. Besides, you do have a valentine. All of us”
“Ok” Novie sighs and for a second Harry feels bad. “Daddy?”
“Yes, bug?” He asks as he finally pulls out of his parking spot and starts to drive off.
“I love you,” she says, “I love you too Blakey”
Blake shares a smile with Harry before the two tell Novie that they too, love her very much.
“You’re my favourite love Daddy” she smiles, “even if I get valentines from other boys and you Blakey are my second favourite love.”
“You’re my favourite love too Novie Bug” Harry smiles, his eyes softening, making a mental note to smother his daughter in kisses once they get out of the car. She was killing him, so perfect and cute.
“More than mama?” She asks from the back making Blake chuckle softly.
“Yes, even more than mama, bug” Harry speaks, looking through the rearview mirror to see Novie blowing him a kiss. He makes a kissing pout at her.
“Don’t fib Daddy, you love Mama so much more” she giggles.
“It's a different kind of love” he shrugs, “you’ll see when you’re 36” Harry replies as Blake chuckles.
“Now, let’s forget about those stinky boys, who wants ice cream?” Harry asks getting a chorus of me’s from his two kids.
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kiwi-claire · 3 months
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the edge of all we’ve ever known
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authors note: i actually really kinda loved this idea so i’m finally trying out a little friends-to-lovers thing, so let’s see how it goes, also, yes, i gave the reader my job in this fic just because i still have not read one fic where she has said profession, so enjoy! (also, my first full harry fic so pls be kind x)
word count: 4,427
summary: y/n is harry’s best friend and he finally gets asked about her in an interview. 
//
There are three groups of people when it comes to a camera. The first group that stands in front of it, the second group that stands behind it, and the third group that watches from the sideline—a meer speculator of the art. Harry had always been the former and you, well, you’d always been the latter.
You didn’t have a hidden talent that would awe the nations and put your name in headlines. You couldn’t sing, you didn’t have the body of a model, you weren’t a dancer and you couldn’t act. You were a mediocre twenty-four-year-old that’s held down the same job for six years in a residential home for individuals with learning disabilities and challenging behaviours.
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kiwi-claire · 4 months
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we could hide away
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(late night talking part 4)
Summary: when a photo of you and harry is leaked, your relationship suffers. can you manage to mend it despite hurt and miscommunication?
Warnings: pure angsty, fluffy goodness, smut (f and m receiving)
A/n: thank you as always for everyone’s support on the previous parts đŸ˜­đŸ«¶đŸŒ it means the world to me , especially for the very idea that inspired me to start writing again! please let me know if there’s anything you want to see from our babies, any requests etc in general. i don’t know how much i like this part, my head is sooo fuzzy but i wanted to get it out, so edits may be made in the next few days !!
part one
part two
part three
my masterlist can be found here!
The first thing you heard the next morning was the incessant buzzing of a phone. Notification after notification, call after call. You woke up groggy after passing out in Harry’s arms, still fully clothed on top of the duvet. A headache hit you instantly, a cruel reminder of your perfect night. Harry woke up as you peeled yourself out of his hold, stretching your arms above your head before padding over to the kitchen for some water. His eyes were glazed over, still half asleep as he reached over to shut his phone off.
Harry scrolled through the notifications silently, eyes wide as he clicked on screenshots and messages. You placed a glass of water on his nightstand, crawling back on the bed beside him and wrapping an arm around him from behind. He placed a strong hand over yours, fiddling with the giant S ring you were still wearing. “Fuck, I’m sorry baby, gotta take this,” he mumbled, voice raspy and dry, as he slid off the bed and strode out to the balcony, phone to his ear immediately.
You watched as he shut the door behind himself, placing his phone on the table as he paced around the small space, hands dragging through his messy hair. Your phone was tucked under your pillow, completely drained of battery since you hadn’t managed to charge it. You leaned over to plug it in, eyes still fixed on Harry. Whatever he was talking about, whoever he was talking to, it seemed heated. He was fiddling with anything he could find, jaw tensing up as he breathed in and out. “We can talk about this later,” he said, slamming the sliding door behind him as he re-entered the room. He marched immediately into the bathroom, banging and crashing as he went. You walked over to find him slumped over the sink, cold water dripping off the end of his nose and the point of his chin.
You had no idea how to act. You didn’t know whether to comfort him, stay out of his way, share his anger. Whatever this was, was it even any of your business? It was in your nature to comfort, however, so you walked over and placed a gentle hand on his back. “Hey,” you said softly, pushing his hair out of his face with your free hand. “What’s happened?” Harry turned around and gave you a small smile, pulling his phone out of his pocket to show you. You were totally blindsided, your mouth falling open. It was a couple of grainy pictures, Harry and you in the hotel hallway yesterday morning. You in just his robe and some socks, walking down the hallway with his hand pressed against your lower back. You walking into the room, your hands laced together. The photos were captioned:
exclusive: harry styles pictured with a mystery woman in london
He scrolled to the next screenshot, the same pictures, now captioned:
who is harry styles’ rumoured girlfriend? we’ve narrowed it down!
He continued scrolling, showing you at least 25 posts and news articles about the pictures. They were taken from behind, so it wasn’t even obvious it was him, let alone you. Even still, your perfect, private little bubble had burst. “Harry I- I didn’t even know someone was there, how did this happen?” you looked into his eyes as you spoke, searching for some kind of answer or clue as to how he felt. Just as his lips parted, his phone rang again. He listened to the voice on the other end for a few minutes, nibbling at the skin around his fingers. One strong hand pushed through his hair once the call ended, grabbing a thick fistful of curls as he threw his head back, eyes closed. Harry still hasn’t said a real word to you since he woke up, and seemed to be holding a lot back from whoever called him. Truthfully, he didn’t know what to say. It hurt him that people sought to invade his privacy. It angered him that your relationship was at risk of being exposed because people couldn’t resist selling stories about his life. It infuriated him that he now had to spend the day dealing with his management instead of nursing a sore head with you.
Harry strode into the living room to pull his trainers on, grabbing his trademark Pleasing tote bag from a hook next to the door. He slipped sunglasses onto his head, pushing his unbrushed curls out of his face. You lingered on the opposite side of the room, arms wrapped tight around your chest. “Harry, where are y-,” you started, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip as he interrupted you. “Need to sort this out. Y/n, I don’t want to ask but I need t’know. Was this anything at all to do with you?” He asked. You couldn’t believe he was pointing the finger at you. “Harry, no! No. I wouldn’t- I’d never,” you told him, hurt at the accusation. He nodded curtly, then disappeared out of the room, leaving you wounded and alone.
—
You’d decided to head to Joanie’s after Harry left, needing quality time with your best friend. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been around much,” you rushed into your best friends arms as she opened her front door. She pulled you inside, thrusting a pre-made cup of tea into your arms as you slumped in the corner of her ragged sofa. “I’ve been seeing someone,” you started to explain. “He’s been here in london with me, but I think that’s all over now.” You spilled as much as you could to your best friend, twisting the story slightly to keep Harry’s identity secret.
Wiping your hands against your thighs, you stood up, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from your purse. “Do you have a lighter?,” you asked Joanie, scanning the room. You’d never particularly enjoyed smoking but it was just habit for you to have a couple of ciggies when you were sad or stressed. It started when you and Joanie were much younger, newly 18 and enjoying pubs, clubs and boys far too much. Every time one of you had your heartbroken, got rejected at the club or simply drank too much, you needed to share a pack. Now 6 years down the line, it was a dirty little secret you shared, one that Joanie’s long time boyfriend and new husband didn’t even know about.
You sat on the little brick wall outside her house, talking about your plans for the show tonight. “I want to be where we were on Tuesday,” Joanie sighed dreamily, flicking the ash from the end of her cigarette. You smiled meekly in response, dreading even being in the same venue as Harry, let alone so close to him again. “Did you see he was spotted with someone?” Joanie gasped, slapping her hand down on your knee. “I wouldn’t have married Tom if I knew Harry was dating.”
“Oh yes, your marital status is the one reason he’s gone for somebody else,” you scoffed, the pair of you collapsing into each other in a fit of giggles. You were so glad you had your best friend by your side through all of this, even if you couldn’t be totally honest with her. Joanie had always been the perfect opposite to you - the smart to your silly, the rose-tint to your pessimism, the light to your dark. Or whatever way it needed to go. She always managed to oppose your views and feelings, but in a way that gave both of you exactly what you needed. She lifted you up, mellowed you out, always opposite sides of the same coin. You had even spent your teenage years trying to convince school friends that you were destined to be best friends. Joanie was born on the hottest day of that year, and you on the coldest. It took fourteen years for life to bring the two of you together, but you felt as though you’d known her from birth. She was your soulmate, and it was eating up at you that you couldn’t tell her everything about Harry.
—
On the other side of London, Harry was sprawled across an armchair stuffed far too firm to be comfortable, though he knew that was the point. His long fingers were tapping a rhythm across his thigh, his eyes glued to the empty space left by his still-missing S ring. The tan line left behind sent a twinge through Harry’s chest. He regretted questioning you as soon as he’d said it, though he really didn’t know you well enough to be sure you weren’t involved. For all he knew, this could have been your plan all along. Get friendly with Harry Styles then sell your story to make a quick buck. Truthfully, he felt as though he could trust you, wanted to trust you, but he’d been burned too many times to fully count on his instincts.
“You best start explaining this, H.” Jeff’s voice was kind but stern, a cloud of frustration hanging over his head. Harry held his hands up in surrender, telling his manager, “it’s just a girl I’ve been seeing. Didn’t realise I had t’tell you and the world about it.”
“Harry- I’m your manager, for fucks sake. If you’re out doing things that could make a good story, it’s wise to tell me first. You know we need to get on top of things before anything like this happens.” Jeff’s words were now laced with annoyance. Annoyance with Harry, with the situation, with the media. When Harry failed to say anything further, Jeff pushed again. “So? Tell me what there is to tell and I can find a way out of this for you.”
Harry explained as much as he could, leaving out the raunchier details. He started to speak about ‘kiwi girl’ (as twitter had affectionately nicknamed you), when Jeff held up a hand. “I’m gonna stop you right there, H. Do not tell me this girl is a fan.” Harry’s silence and hanging head was a dead giveaway that you were, in fact, a fan. “And I’m assuming this is the same girl you upgraded the night after?” Harry nodded this time, standing from his seat to pace the length of the room instead. Jeff’s head was in his hands, sighing as he half-yelled “rule number one is you do. not. sleep. with. fans,” slamming the tip of his pen into the table with every word.
“It’s not-“ Harry started. “Not like that, I know. It’s never like that, mate.” Jeff finished for Harry, eyes finding the back of Harry’s head. “Listen, let’s set up an opportunity for more photos with a different woman. Make out you’re having a bit of a phase. Takes the heat off, means you can keep playing with your little fuck-toy in private.”
“She’s not my little fuck-toy,” Harry growled, his irritation threatening to explode out of him. “And I’ve been fucking doing it in private. All of it. Haven’t been with her outside the hotel, not since the first night. Haven’t entered and left at the same time, done everything to keep it fucking private.”
“And no one knows it’s this girl?”
“No, mate. No one else.”
The frosted door swung open, Glenne’s high heels tip-tapping across the marble floor with every step. “Harry!”, she beamed, pulling him in for a lingering hug. “Has my lovely husband been tormenting you?” She looked Harry up and down, eyes full of love and care. He chuckled bitterly, his tired eyes following her back across the room to where she perched on the edge of Jeff’s desk. “This isn’t such a big deal, you know.”
“No, seriously!” she insisted as both men scoffed. “It’s hardly a scandal. ‘Young single man spotted with woman’. It’s not exactly the headline of the century.”
“It is when the world finds out she’s a fan. He’ll be tormented by young girls for the rest of his career now,” Jeff told his wife. “So we don’t let that part get out - not unless you’re serious about her, H. Her family and friends might know if you’re spotted together again, but by the time it has to come out, you’ll be off the market. If you’re not serious, not seeing her again, how you met never has to leave this room. Besides, you’ve been tormented by young girls for years already.”
Harry had no idea how Glenne did it. She always managed to find the best solution, easy fixes that passed right under his and Jeff’s noses. “That works for me,” he sighed, the rubber band snapping from around his chest, finally able to breathe fully and deeply. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out quickly, praying it would be from you. It was Anne.
mum: Just got to the station. Think you have a bit of a situation so will see you later !! Xx
“Mum’s here. I need to go, Jeff. Thank you, Glenne,” Harry muttered as he fled the office, holding his hands up in a prayer position. He sent you a quick text as he left, having not heard from you since he’d left you this morning. Harry was relieved to have a plan, but his heart was still heavy. He should have warned you how quickly things can get real when you’re associated with him. He was so used to fooling around with other women in the industry, women who already knew the ins and outs of life with a celebrity. If the world learned your name, your life would be changed irreversibly. He’d seen what it had done to others, how the media had shared their private details, their families details. You might have known it was a risk, but neither of you had seen this coming so quickly. You hadn’t even discussed it, it was far too soon to even think about what would happen when the bubble burst.
—
You and Joanie had ended up in almost the exact position you were for night one, just as she wanted. You were wearing your red outfit today, wishing you’d worn that on Tuesday to match with Harry. Everything came back to Tuesday. A white denim skirt hugged your hips, carefully hand-painted red hearts dotted all over the material. You’d paired it with a bright red off the shoulder top, and Joanie next to you was wearing the same but in inverted colours. You were glad to have her close by your side tonight, glad to have been able to tell her the bare minimum about your aching heart. She’d insisted on bringing a funny sign tonight, desperate to catch Harry’s attention and make you smile. ‘my bestie had her heart broken, can you cheer her up ?!’, the sign read. You would keep your fingers crossed for the rest of your life if it meant Harry didn’t see the sign, didn’t notice you at all tonight.
He seemed more muted than usual, his dances and energy toned down in comparison to his usual self. You wondered if he’d tried to contact you at all today. Your phone had barely charged before you left for Joanie’s, then died again on your way over. You hadn’t bothered to charge it up since, preferring to ignore the internet for today at least. Harry knew where you were if he wanted to see you.
Joanie’s fingernails were digging into your arm, her screams bordering on nutty as Harry pulled his guitar strap over his head, mere feet in front of you once again. His eyes had glanced over you a few times, but he hadn’t noticed you. Either because he didn’t want to, or his mind was elsewhere. “Don’t tell me he’s going to-“, Joanie started, screaming again as the opening chords to ‘boyfriends’ echoed through the stadium. You couldn’t help the tears that immediately welled in your eyes, threatening to spill down your blushed cheeks. You hadn’t even thought about crying all day, hadn’t felt as though you needed to and now it was all pushing to the surface.
Boyfriends
Are they just pretending?
Joanie wrapped an arm around your waist, using her thumb to wipe a tear from your eye. You rested your head against her shoulder, giving a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You weren’t even sure what made you so upset, but your heart couldn’t stop aching now that you thought about what had happened that morning- then it hit you. Harry hadn’t even asked you how you felt this morning, thought for a second how these pictures could affect you. After how attentive he’d been for days, it felt like a slap in the face. Had he been pretending? Did he only want you in his bed, only care when it was your secret?
They don't tell you where it's heading
You kept your eyes fixed on Harry, his dark pupils scanning the crowd in front of him through heavy eyelids. They lingered on you for only half a second, not long enough for anyone to notice but long enough for you to watch his breath catch in his throat. His eyes clouded over, blinking rapidly as he cleared his throat and looked away from you.
And you know the game's never ending
He stepped back from the microphone, signalling to the crowd to sing for him as he turned his back, the gut-wrenching glisten of tears in his eyes visible for a split second.
He whispered something to Sarah as the song finished and stepped closer to the microphone, his rich voice suddenly crooning, “baby, you were the love of my life”. Harry’s eyes looked anywhere except for you, hurt and shame written all over his face. He knew he’d acted like a dick today, from the way he handled the situation with you, to the way he spoke to Jeff, to the way he made almost no time for his darling mum and sister before the show. He needed to make it all alright, most of all with you. He silently prayed that you’d know these songs were for you, feel what he was trying to convey.
He moved over to the opposite side of the stage, turning to point at Jonny’s place when he mentioned it. Yours and Joanie’s faces flashed up on the screen, Joanie waving her sign around like a mad woman while you wiped your teary eyes. You laughed at the sight of the two of you, you made an insane pair. Harry was watching the screen as he sang, desperate to let his eyes linger on you without actually doing just that. He blew a kiss to your general area as the band played out, girls around you screaming. He walked past you on his way back to the main stage, watching you subtly catch his kiss with the hand still trying to dry your eyes. That soothed him a little, lifted his mood just enough to get through the remainder of the show.
—
Harry explained everything to Anne and Gemma after the show, head in his hands as they sighed and groaned at his story. “Harry Edward, you’re a very bad man sometimes,” Anne gasped, swatting at his knee. “You got this poor girl obsessed with you, then you ditch her at the first sign of trouble?”
“Oi, I didn’t ditch her!,” he said, his vibe not too far from that of a petulant teenager’s. “I needed to deal with the business side, needed t’sort out Jeff.”
Gemma placed a hand on Harry’s forearm, “have you spoken to her? Explained it all? Y/n is probably going out of her mind right now, H.”
“I think her phones off, we haven’t spoken all day,” Harry sighed. He didn’t have the words to explain to himself, or his family, why this felt like a much bigger problem than it was. Why his heart was so much heavier than it should have been for someone he’d only known for 4 days. “It’s getting late now, go and get some rest darling. See if you can reach her tonight, you’ve got us all day tomorrow.” Anne rose from her seat, tugging on Harry’s wrists to get him moving. She pulled him in for a cuddle when he stood, knowing a mother’s hug can make the biggest problems seem smaller. He held her tight, taking a deep sniff of her floral, earthy scent. She smelled like home. It always seemed to calm him down.
“You did amazing tonight, my special baby boy. Love you so much, we can’t wait to get some proper time with you tomorrow,” Anne said, a radiant grin spreading across her face. She never wanted to see him torn up about anything, hated watching him fall in and out of love every so often, healing the hurt and heartbreak he wore so well. But having her little boy in her arms was more than enough to warm her heart.
—
Harry knocked on your door, feeling sheepish. He was usually far too stubborn to trail back with his tail between his legs so soon, but this was different. You hadn’t done him wrong, hadn’t bought him anything other than joy. You were the innocent pawn in someone else’s game, a game that he hadn’t realised could, and had, hurt you both. He let the gift bag he held fall to his side when you didn’t answer, his clenched wrist going limp.
He knocked again after a few minutes, and again a few minutes after that. He couldn’t hear anything inside, but that didn’t mean you weren’t in there. He turned on his heel, deciding to head back upstairs, hoping he’d at least get a text from you before he slept. Then he saw you, trudging towards the door, eyes fixed on your phone screen. Your hair was hanging down your back in a messy braid, the t-shirt Harry had loaned to you on Monday night engulfing your slender frame. You looked up as you got nearer, brown eyes locking onto his. Stopping in your tracks, you felt the wings of a thousand butterflies knocking against the inner walls of your belly, heart beating like a ticking time bomb. The hallway was silent, the weight of a thousand things you wanted to say to each other but couldn’t find the words to say hanging over your heads. “Hey,” you smiled, reaching for your keycard. “I just went to get some food, is everything okay?”
Harry let out a breath he didn’t even realise he was holding, stepping forward to wrap you up in his arms. Your bodies melted into each other, your hands splayed against Harry’s back, cradling him so tight you thought you might never let go. “Everything’s okay,” he mumbled, pink lips spreading into a warm smile. Holding onto each other, just being close, was enough to make it right.
You let the two of you inside, unpacking your food onto the countertop as Harry lingered behind you. “I got sushi, there’s enough for two if you want to stay,” you offered.
You both sat on the bed to eat, giggles cutting through a peaceful silence as you watched reruns of the Office. Harry’s fingers found yours after a while, his thumb tracing shapes on the back of your hand. “I got you something,” he told you, standing up to grab the gift bag from where he’d left it.
Your eyes were wide with curiosity as you untied the white ribbon, pulling a handwritten note from a tiny envelope.
‘heard you got your heart broken. thought this could cheer you up’.
You shook your head as you read it, a deep blush creeping up your cheeks. “I told her not to take that sign,” you laughed. “I tried to tell her a bit this morning but it’s a little hard to explain.” Harry grinned, “it was sweet. Though I bet she’ll be mortified if she knows she told me I broke your heart.”
A dark green velvet jewellery box sat in the bottom of the bag, slimline and dainty. You looked up at Harry, as if unsure this was for you. “Open it,” he smiled, words coming out small. Inside was the most beautiful necklace you’d ever seen. A tiny chain, the perfect shade of gold to complement your other jewellery. At the bottom of the chain sat a tiny H, studded with imitation diamonds. You bought the box closer to your face, fingers tracing delicately over the elegant design. “H,” you whispered, totally taken aback by the gift. “For Harry,” he smirked. “Do you like it?”
You were stunned, your mouth trying and failing to form words. All you could do was keep tracing over the pendant, eyes glancing between the necklace and the man sitting in front of you. “I love it, Harry. I really do,” you eventually managed, grateful tears filling up your eyes. You set the box down beside you, closing the distance between you and Harry. He held a warm hand to your cheek, pressing a gentle kiss to the end of your nose. “Turn around, let me help you put it on.”
He secured the chain around your neck, peppering soft kisses across your back. “It’s beautiful Harry, really. I can’t thank you enough,” you sighed, fiddling with the H as you spoke. You leaned back against his chest, turning your head slightly to nuzzle against the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry baby, I really am,” he spoke. “Didn’t mean t’rush out on you in such a hurry.”
“Harry, it’s f-“, you interrupted, wanting to put the whole day behind you now that you had him back. “It’s not fine. Didn’t like you seeing me so pissed off, I wanted to get away and sort it all out. But I hurt you.” He was speaking softer now, his voice gentle. “You didn’t Harry, I was confused that’s all. I didn’t know what any of this meant, for you or for us.”
“And I should’ve spoken to you, got on the same page so we could handle it together.” You pulled away from him as he spoke, turning your body around to face him again. You could see the shame etched into every line on his face, the way he’d beaten himself up all day showing in his eyes. You rested your hand on the side of his neck, thumb stroking the sharp edge of his jawline. “You got it sorted though?” you asked. “All sorted, princess. Had to tell everyone everything though. Even told my mum,” he smiled meekly. “Yeah? Told her how pretty and perfect I am?” you grinned, fluttering your eyelashes. “Told her you’re the prettiest girl in the world. After her of course.”
He really did think you were the prettiest girl in the world. Especially now, in his t-shirt, wearing his initial around your neck. Your hair was messy, your skin fresh. The evening light seeping in from the window was illuminating you from behind, giving you an angelic glow.
“Have you showered?” you asked him. “Yeah. But I’ll have another one if it means more time with you,” he grinned, already yanking his hoodie over his head.
—
You were taking turns under the water, laughing and joking as you manoeuvred around each other in the small space. “Give me a kiss,” Harry smiled. “Since when have you asked for kisses?” you laughed, poking at his chest. “Don’t know if I deserve one today.”
“Lucky for you, I can’t deny you any,” you said as you leaned towards him. He held onto the back of your head as his lips met yours. His lips were as warm and as soft as they’d ever been, the tickle of his hot breath sending sparks down your spine. Your tongue darted out of your parted lips, licking a trail across his bottom teeth before slipping into his mouth. Harry moved his mouth to your throat, suckling on your wet skin. “Gonna mark you up, show everyone you’re mine,” he whispered. He ran his tongue over the bruise he left behind, before continuing to kiss down your body, pausing to nibble on your perky nipple. He licked a circle around your belly button as your hands found his wet hair, shifting your body to lean against the tiled wall.
“Open up for me,” he asked, nose nudging into the space where your thighs met. He rested back on his heels, admiring your pussy. “So perfect, my sweet girl,” he drawled, fingers tracing up the inside of your thigh. His warm face was so close to right where you needed him, mouth so close that his tongue could reach out and have a taste. His mouth was watering at the sight of your arousal wetting your folds. He couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to taste you, wet his face with your juices, have you screaming as you came on his tongue.
You were whimpering as soon as Harry’s lips made contact with your pussy, his tongue lapping into your folds. He was eating you like he’d been starving, like your pussy was the first and only thing he’d ever be allowed to enjoy. His nose grazed over your clit as he licked at your entrance, sending your hips bucking into his mouth as the bundle of nerves lit on fire. He chuckled at your body’s reaction, murmuring a slurred, “need daddy to give you more?” You tugged on his curls in response, breathless and unable to speak. He moved immediately to focus on your clit, his lips wrapping around your button as he sucked and popped. He moaned against you, the vibrations shooting pleasure deep into your core.
You’d never found much pleasure from someone’s mouth, yet Harry’s was taking you to places you’d never been before. Your back was arched off the wall, fingertips buried so deep in his hair you could pierce his scalp. Your eyes were grainy, the hot steam from the shower swirling around your head. You felt like you were in a trance, moans and incoherent words slipping out of your mouth uncontrollably.
Harry gripped onto the back of your thigh, steadying himself as he pulled his mouth closer into your entrance. His tongue was licking deeper into you, one finger rubbing circles around your clit. “Harry,” you whimpered, feeling your legs begin to buckle beneath you. Your orgasm rolled over you in waves, your body so limp yet so tense under his touch. His tongue kept fucking into you, his hard cock twitching between his legs as you screamed out a strangled moan. You pulled one hand out of his curls, gripping onto the shower caddy to keep yourself from collapsing. Your head was spinning, stars all you could see as Harry rode you through your high. Between the water dripping from his hair, and your juices drenching his face, Harry thought he could drown. He’d die happily here, nestled between your legs, lips attached to your perfect pussy for eternity.
He pulled away after a moment, pressing a kiss to your sensitive clit before standing, pulling your weak body into his arms. “Always do so good for me, baby girl,” he cooed, pushing the wet strands of hair off of your forehead. He could get drunk off the way you looked post-orgasm, your cheeks flushed and pupils blown. The way your mouth never fully closed and your breasts jumped as your chest heaved. Harry got a kick out of knowing he did that to you, he bought you that pleasure.
His cock bumped against your hips as he helped you out the shower, your hands all over each other as you pushed him towards the granite countertop. “What’s bought this on?” Harry smirked, not used to seeing you take such an active role. It had been established pretty early on that Harry was a giver, all he wanted was to pleasure you, and you had no problems being a taker. But his cock had been calling out to you for days, begging you for a taste. “Where you going?” he asked you, head tilting to the side as your hands slithered down his body, your knees hitting the tiled floor. You stayed silent, pressing kisses up the inside of his thigh. You bit down into the fleshy part near the top, quickly licking over the teeth marks. Harry shuddered as you nipped at his skin, repeating the move up and down both his thighs. You suckled at the skin next to his base, leaving your mark. A perfect little purple bruise, a matching tattoo.
You looked up at him as he reached down to swipe his thumb over your bottom lip, his butterfly tattoo seemingly flapping its wings as he breathed in and out. “Gonna stuff daddy’s cock into that pretty little mouth?” he rasped, his thighs tensing as you hacked spit into your palms. You stroked his member up and down, up and down, again and again as you pressed swollen-mouthed kisses to his thick tip. Holding a hand at his base, you licked a line down the underside of his shaft, then took his tip in your mouth hungrily. He was far bigger than you’d ever had, and you were unsure of how well your usual tricks would work on someone his size.
He whimpered as you took him further in your mouth, your warm cheeks tightening against his length as you sucked. Your hand moved up and down the inches of him you couldn’t manage to take, swirling your heated tongue around his head as you pulled him further out. “Knew you could be a good little slut for daddy,” he drawled, gathering your dripping hair and using it to guide your head up and down his cock. He kept his free hand steadied on the countertop, mouth dropping open as you popped off of his head and moved your mouth to his balls. Harry threw his head back as you suckled at his sack, rolling your tongue against the soft, sensitive skin. Your hand continued tugging against his length as you worked, your nose bumping the underside of his foreskin. “Fuck baby, give me more, please,” he groaned, wrapping your long hair around his fist. You switched your hand and your mouth, fondling his balls while you stuffed his cock back into your mouth. You looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes as you took his member further than you had before, reaching as far as you could before gagging against his head. His hand tugged at your hair somewhat involuntarily as your throat closed around him, a choked moan squeezing out against his tip. Your eyes were red, tears brewing above your lower lashes. “Taste so fucking good daddy,” you told him, mouth moving up and down faster now, humming in appreciation as his cock twitched in your throat.
Harry had never seen you look so sexy, not when you took his cock so well, not when you were coming on his tongue. Like this, stark naked on the bathroom floor, his cock lodged between your perfect swollen pout, this is what he wanted to remember. Have the image etched in his brain forever, see you like this every time he closed his eyes. His balls felt heavy in your hand, loaded with the cum he couldn’t wait to shoot down your pretty little throat. “Fuck, princess. I’m gonn- gonna come if you keep doing that,” he warned, his voice deep with lust. You moaned against him, keeping your lips wrapped tightly around his girthy member, your perfect H pendant swinging against your chest as you bobbed back and forth. You splayed your free hand against his thigh as it started to shake, looking up his body to see his abs tensing, his pecs twitching as you bought him close to climax. “Come for me daddy,” you whined against him, words muffled by his cock taking over your throat. He pulled his head down to his chest, eyes screwed tight and jaw slack as he came violently, thick cum splashing against the back of your throat. You swallowed around his head, ribbons of cum flooding your cheeks. You moved the hand cradling his sack to stroke his length, riding him through his orgasm. His hips jutted towards you, your hair wound tightly around his clenched fist.
His grip eased up as he came down from his high, darkened eyes opening to look down at you as you removed your mouth from him completely. You had his juices dripping out of your mouth, eyes threatening to spill over as you wiped them with the back of your hand. “Never seen anything so pretty in my whole life,” Harry smiled, rubbing the curve of your neck.
You dried yourselves off, fluffy towels soothing your aching, exhausted bodies. Crawling into bed still naked, you and Harry faced each other, whispering sweet nothings as you kissed over each others faces. He fell asleep before you, one arm draped across your chest, hand still cupping your jaw. Your phone lit up with a text from Joanie,
J: everything ok? you happy?
You snapped a selfie, Harry’s strong hand barely visible in the pitch black room. You sent it to her, captioned simply, the happiest
part five
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kiwi-claire · 6 months
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Your Delicate Point Of View
Summary : you & harry switch bodies. and well, you’ve both always been fairly curious.
TW : smut
Word Count : 2k
A/N : there is zero plot, i’ve just been wanting to write this very bizarre piece of smut. lets just go with it ya ? ✌
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you weren’t sure how it happened. weren’t even sure when it happened. and you didn’t notice until you start to stir from your sleep, arm reaching out instinctively for harry, only for your hand to smack down hard on the nightstand.
you blink your eyes open, squinting hard at the mid morning light, and when the fuck did you switch sides ? you always lay on the left side of the bed, when did you end up on harry’s side ? 
as sleep lifts from you more and more, your eyes starting to focus clearer to your surroundings, something feels off. eyebrows furrowing, your pupils fall on the hand that fell on the nightstand. is that harry’s hand ?
you blink hard and fast, willing any fogginess away, your eyes now properly focused, both hands above you, twirling them around, trying to process why you’re looking up at harry’s hands. but you were moving them ? what the absolute fuck ?
you chance to look next to you, hoping, praying, that this is some kind of really fucked up, vivid dream. but when you end up face to face with, well, your face, and your body, panic starts to set in.
you tentatively poke your body awake, watching it stir, groaning, “s’early, love.”
you notice the furrow in your eyebrows, eyes squinting open and looking back at you, jumping up as realization seems to set in quicker than it did for you.
“what the-“ harry cuts himself off, your voice coming our of what he assumed would be his mouth, completely threw him. because really, why would he assume otherwise. but now he’s staring back at his body, slight panic etched on his features.
“harry,” you whimper quietly, scared and looking for your boyfriend’s comfort.
“lovie,” he coos, noticing the need for consolation, pulling you into him, uh well, you. 
and it was all sorts of awkward. harry is not at all used to being so short and small. you’re not used to the lanky limbs and extra muscles. 
but you somehow manage, harry’s body being tucked into yours, harry giving your head, his head, a few kisses. which he did as a form of comfort to you, while simultaneously freaking himself out because he’s kissing the top of his own head, and he never knew the smell of his own hair could bring such a sense of calm. it seems your body still reacts the same way to certain things, muscle memory and all that. doesn’t mean it’s any less freaky, harry thinks to himself.
“we’ll figure this out, yeah ?” harry hums, still getting used to hearing your soft melodic tone as he speaks. 
“uhh, harry,” you murmur, a hint of embarrassment in your tone, biting your lip, his lip, as you look up, “you’re hard.”
“what ?” he asks confused, pulling his body away to look at you properly, “what are you on about, love ?”
without any words, you look down to harry’s lap, nodding, before looking back up. and realization dawns on him. his body betrays him every morning, in the form of a stiffy. something he either sneaks off and takes care of, or waits for you to wake up and take care of.
but this. this feeling was so foreign to you. not only did you now have a whole extra appendage between your legs, you had a whole extra appendage that was incredibly hard and absurdly uncomfortable pressed up to some all of a sudden much too tight boxer shorts.
“just-“ harry hums, his hand, your hand, reaching out on instinct to give a pull. he knows all too well how you must be feeling, never too much of a comfortable situation. he can’t imagine how it must feel for you. doesn’t exactly remember the first ever time he got a stiffy, but it was surely shocking none the less.
but as his hand, your hand, wraps itself around  his hard prick, he’s stunned to hear the loud moan come out of you, out of his throat, at the mere slight touch. “s’it good ?”
“fuck, does it always feel like this ?” you ask, biting your lip, his lip, a ragged breath escaping you, eyes looking up in slight embarrassment.
“yeah, pet. s’always like that,” harry chuckles. “fuck, this is weird isn’t it ? we can’t possibly-“ he cuts himself off, heat working its way up to his cheeks, your cheeks, as it simultaneously works its way down to his, your, core. “kinda wanna try,” he hums, knowing that you’ll surely understand what he’s trying to say, because christ, it is much too weird to speak out loud. “are you curious too ?”
and well, yes, you were curious, especially after that glorious touch harry just provided. besides, who isn’t curious ? who wouldn’t be intrigued in knowing how sex feels for the opposite form of genitalia ?
but fuck, could you really ? because at this moment you’re staring back at yourself and you’re expected to what ? start snogging yourself ? “it’s so fuckin weird,” you murmur. “so curious, but fuck, s’weird kissin on myself.”
harry chuckles, a playful twinkle in his eye, your eye, when he looks up, nodding, “it is weird. s’fuckin weird. but like you said, m’so curious. what if we keep our eyes closed ?”
you close your eyes, his eyes, biting hard on your, his, bottom lip, whispering, “you make the first move.”
and so he does, because as weird and as mind boggling as this entire morning has been so far, he can’t lose the opportunity to feel this. feel what you feel. so he tentatively leans forward, kissing your neck, his neck, trailing slow, tiny pecks up the side from shoulder to ear.
harry places his, your, hands onto your, his, hips, squeezing as he coos against your ear, his ear, “feel like my insides are vibrating. s’that your clit that m’feeling ? s’so achy, fuck.”
that manages a chuckle out of you, smirking, “now imagine that times a million, when you get in your teasy moods and wont touch.”
“m’sorry. fuck, gotta grind down on something,” he whines, “so different from a stiffy. christ, how are you feeling pet ?”
“s’so hard. it hurts, harry,” you whimper, feeling his, your, head tucking itself in your, his, neck, taking a shaky breath.
“wanna do something about that ?” he asks, hopeful. he’s never felt such an intense throbbing sensation. needs to quell it, needs to squeeze your thighs. needs to rut down on something, needs to be filled. fuck, he never thought he’d completely understand the intensive need to be filled up. but it’s the perfect description for how he’s currently feeling. your body needs to be fucked. and based on the tent happening in his boxers, he can assume his body wants the same thing.
“i do,” you whine breathily, “guide me harry ?” you ask, still not wanting to open your eyes, feeling him position you on top of him, slotted between his, your, wide open legs.
“wait,” harry whispers, “can you- “ he cuts himself off, slight embarrassment etched into the tone of voice. “i know your body’s used to it, but can i have a finger first ?”
“fuck,” you breathe, “of course harry.” because you absolutely remember how nerve wracking your first time was. so you tentatively reach down between your bodies, fingertips ghosting over your cunt.
this was something you were fairly used to, you knew how to make yourself feel good, and honestly you were a bit excited to show off your skills for harry. 
he shudders beneath you, taking a deep breath, as your finger gently flicks over your clit, stomach muscles flinching, harry gasping through a breath, “oh fuck.”
you keep stroking from your entrance to your clit, adding more pressure, listening to harry’s breathy moans, his fists tight in the bedsheets, as you coo, “s’it feel good ?”
“christ, poppet,” he groans, hips bucking on instinct, “need to feel more.”
“remember this when things go back to normal,” you reply smugly, your middle finger slipping effortlessly into your heat, curling up immediately, hitting that spot inside you that you know so well.
harry’s hips, your hips, raise off the bed slightly, back curling, loud whimper escaping the depths of his, your, chest, “jesus fuck-“ he cuts himself off, hips rolling into your hand. 
as you add a second finger, his eyes, your eyes, roll back, body trembling more and more, “christ, poppet, s’so fucking good, fuck. so good.”
“want more ?” you ask quietly, wanting, needing, some relief yourself. having a painfully hard prick was not something you were getting used to any time soon. and now that you’d gotten over the initial shock of hearing yourself moaning back at you, you wanted nothing more than to fall into this the same way harry seems to be doing.
“please,” he whispers around a breath, feeling your, his, lips press against his, yours. with both your eyes closed, mouths occupied with kissing, for a moment absolutely nothing felt out of place. this was a groove you could both fall into, in a natural way. 
slight nerves overtook you as your touch leaves your cunt, guiding harry’s cock into yourself.
“fuck,” you both groan, foreheads falling together, harry gasping for air, holding onto you for dear life.
you could feel your walls split themselves apart, could feel the first push from the head of harry’s cock. the overwhelming warmth, the powerful clench, the drowning wetness, it was all so much.
and fuck, harry’s never felt anything so brain fogging in his life. having something quite literally split him open and thrust into the deepest depth of his, your, tummy, legs falling open in an invitation for more. there was nothing more exhilarating, nothing more intimate, that he’d ever experienced. 
“fuck, harry,” you whine, hips thrusting at a steady pace, feeling so overwhelmed , so deliciously good, so skin tingly warm, but you had no idea how to control this body. no idea how to prolong this. you were just learning how to properly work his muscles, holding back an orgasm was a bit of a stretch.
it almost felt like losing your virginity all over again. without any awkward, slight discomforting moments. a brand new feeling entirely. one of intense pleasure.
“feels good, yeah ?” harry groans, working through the dizzying clusterfuck in his brain, unsure how to process this feeling, in an attempt to still be there for you. his typical role not being pushed aside easily, although the reversal does a fair job at trying. it’s obvious that your body likes what it likes, and being on the submissive end seems ingrained in your bones. but harry’s brain is desperate to fight it, every ounce of his being needing to be sure you were okay.
“so fuckin good, christ, don’t know how to hold back,” you whine, hands landing on your breasts, needing something to hold onto. with your, his, thumb and forefinger, you’ve got your nipples in a tight grip, harry groaning louder, back arching to press your chest further into his hands. 
“christ, shit-“ harry moans loudly, “fuck, don’t hold back, cum with me, yeah ?”
and if the desperation in him wasn’t enough, it was absolutely the hard clench of your cunt, as harry felt his orgasm peak, that tipped you over the edge.
“fuck, fuck,” you groan with each spurt of hot white cum, coating the insides of your walls, cock rutting deeper and deeper with each wave bubbling out.
harry’s jaw, your jaw, is slack, breathy pants and whimpers echoing through the room, as he comes down from the most body wrenching orgasm he’s ever felt.
“thank you,” he whispers, catching his breath, fingertips instinctively rubbing your, his, arms as you come down as well.
you hum, nodding and smiling in bliss, “can’t believe that just happened.”
harry chuckles, kissing his head, “weirdest fuckin thing i’ve ever done. wouldn’t change a thing.”
Part 2



Masterlist
tags : @gorlsinmultifandoms
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kiwi-claire · 6 months
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you’re telling me the vault songs are about THESE PEOPLE? THEY’RE FRIENDS NOW????
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kiwi-claire · 6 months
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Oh she called him OUT
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kiwi-claire · 6 months
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Safe Bliss*
Summary: A small glimpse into y/n and Harry’s life during pregnancy and his obsession with her.
Trope: CEO!H
Wc: 3.1k
Warnings: oral, creampie,doctor check ups, dirty talk, mentions of fertility and breeding.
A/n: My attempt at getting back
CEO H MASTERLIST
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Harry’s love language is physical touch.
He’s obsessed with touching you at all times. His hands are rarely found clasped in his lap, they have to be on your skin.
It’s a sentimental gesture in your opinion, a very basic love language made special by him.
It’s not a surprise, after all, you met him during an orgy and he’s the CEO of a sex toys company. You’re accustomed to his antics but others aren’t. His dotting has become a daily routine in your life even before your pregnancy.
Your friends gave you weird looks whenever you went out on a double date, you were quite aware of what they meant but you could not care less. As for Harry, he would be far too gone to notice.
It’s safe to say that it’s always been you and him in a little bubble full of love and touches. This bubble grew bigger with peanut residing in your belly.
Every day you wake up and wait for your life to change, to realize that it was some sort of dream but it never happens. Harry changed your life upside down, it has nothing to do with money or power. He provided you with love you never knew existed, not even in fairytales.
Before you, Harry had no real purpose even when the world was at his feet.
One magazine cover after the other, interviews, meetings, invitations, events, fans, and even some offers from Hollywood directors. All felt mundane to him, things that any regular person would find astonishing.
Some sort of epiphany was fulfilled on a warm April night. He was trying to lose himself in sex, something he adored without shame. And where would he go if not his sex club?
ïżŒ There are days where he likes to recall all the tiny details leading up to this life-changing moment, while on others he stares at you for a minute or two before letting out a silent prayer stemming from the disbelief of being yours.
It all happened so fast in a crowded room of sweaty bodies letting out their lustful energies. The air was charged with sexual tension as is normal, but the one that radiated off of you and Harry was different.
His entire body was on fire, his fingertips were numb and he felt intoxicated despite being sober.
He convinced himself that it was just the rush of adrenaline and that fucking you would get it out of his system.
He was wrong of course.
Barely 36 hours passed before he asked his secretary to find your number, followed by begging and pleading that he doesn’t necessarily wish to recall.
Now you’re pregnant with his first child, have some of his properties in your name, and will get his last name soon.
You both managed to change each other’s perspective about love and what it meant to be on the receiving end of it. He showed you how a real man should treat you.
His insistence on dating you had you feeling a bit paranoid. It’s a bit flattering when someone is infatuated with you, but Harry surely reached another level.
You were guarding your heart as a precaution from past experiences, so why would a famous rich CEO be any better?
Just like him, you were mistaken.
He went above and beyond to prove to you that he was not bluffing. Four months after your first date, you visited him at his office where you spotted a picture of you taken at a recent outing, framed, and placed near his computer.
That was a huge turning point for you, it opened your eyes to many of his actions that you did not notice before.
You didn’t notice that he bought you the flowers that were printed on your dress the night you met, that he changed his schedule so he could meet up with you, or that he protected your safety with many measures that could’ve hindered his public image.
His need for being around you intensified during the breeding period. He developed a new obsession where he would have you sit in his lap for cuddles, and easier access

You would often catch him in the act of gazing at your tummy and most of the time, he fucked you senseless after.
His proudness of being your partner and baby daddy made him forget the fact that he’s a public figure. His tongue almost slipped on many occasions due to his excitement of becoming a dad.
The doctor checkups were a whole other thing. An appointment that usually takes around 20 minutes would end up taking an hour thanks to Harry.
Having read a load of books and consumed information from the internet, he would ask your gynecologist questions about your pregnancy and health that have the poor doctor questioning his career and tolerance.
It was moments like these that indicated what an amazing person he is. Every time you go for a check-up, he leaves you for a few minutes while you clean up and sort yourself. You’re aware that he does that to leave a donation and come back quickly but you never say anything.
His adoration for you seems to only get stronger with every passing day. He often worked from home because he “wanted to be around his loves”.
It is no longer a surprise to find his body clinging to you in the mornings instead of being at his office.
He’s simply in love.
Your pregnancy hormones are yet to kick in, but that’s not a barrier because you still take any chance you get to jump at each other like rabbits.
The slow growth of your breasts along with their tenderness and the prominent appearance of your nipples has Harry weak in the knees.
You could only wonder what will happen when you begin to lactate.
Today is one of those days.
You’ve been at it since the morning before he cooked you breakfast and served it in bed.
You both agreed that he should work so you urged him to lock himself up in his office and stay there till lunch.
Thirty minutes later, you found yourself arranging your shared bedroom and collecting laundry, but you couldn’t think properly, not when your fiancĂ©e was in the same house as you.
You were bending down near the bed when you felt something large pressing into your ass. You yelped and straightened your posture only to be met with the sight of a fed-up Harry and a bulge in his pants.
“Baby what are you—“
“I need you. Can’t stay away.” He pulled your body closer and attached his mouth to the back of your neck.
“It has barely been half an hour since we fucked.” You groaned knowing that he’ll fall behind on work if he continues behaving this way.
“Really? I knew it’s been a while!” His chuckle vibrated against your back as he engulfed you in a loving embrace.
“Did you even get some work done?” You questioned him with a bossy tone.
“No. Who cares? I’m the CEO.” He whispered lowly in your ear prompting goosebumps to rise all over your body.
Your entire system feels rigid whenever he mentions his power. He’s not someone who abuses it, and perhaps that’s what makes him attractive in your opinion. To explain it briefly, he’s fine with neglecting work just because he wants to be around his baby mama.
“Doesn’t mean you can boss me around mister.” You turned around to face him, cradling his face in your hand as you pressed your body closer to his.
“Never. You’re my boss.” And that is your man. Someone who’s not afraid to admit that their female partner has the upper hand.
Your giggles echoed in the room before joining your lips together in a rush as if you hadn’t seen each other in years. Harry is always extra excited to kiss you like it’s his first time (he cried during your first kiss)
“But..” He pulled back momentarily, gazing into your eyes as mischief took over his. “It doesn’t mean that I’m oblivious to the fact that you need to be fucked daily.”
You swallowed down your throat feeling his fingers travel over your hips and outer thighs. His lips attached to the nape of your neck, leaving subtle kisses that fuelled a fire inside of you.
It’s truly insane to think about the way your chemistry works. You just have to be near each other and everything else collapses.
“Baby..”. Your soft moans echoed in his ear as you held on to his bicep and grinded against his body. The laundry and his office work were long forgotten.
“Can never get enough of you my love.” He confessed breathlessly trying to keep his mouth attached to your skin.
The wetness between your thighs from earlier today having taken a load of his cum joined with the one being formed due to his pining is not helping you at all.
A wet patch covered your grey panties, the same ones he helped you put on claiming that he’ll stay away for good.
Obviously , that was a lie.
The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. Harry’s arm was wrapped around your waist as you instinctively spread your legs for him.
“These pretty legs are always open for me aren’t they?” He grinned knowingly, rubbing circles to your inner thighs.
The pulsing in your pussy was unbearable. You could feel his cock brushing against your leg making you whine and roll your eyes backwards.
As of recently, all you could think about was his cock. How it was curved to hit the right spots, how it bred you perfectly and fucked you into madness . You simply want it inside you 24/7.
“H
”. It came out as a whimper when his fingers brushed purposefully over your sensitive cunt.
“Please just fuck me now.”
“Where are your manners sweetheart?” He tsked, slowly undressing you before prepping hungry kisses to your pelvis.
The gentle breeze from the open window invaded the room and tickled your skin as you closed your eyes and relished in the feeling of Harry’s touch over your naked body.
It felt like a prayer to him.
“Now let’s see if your greedy cunt swallowed all of my cum.” His voice, thick with lust and pleasure warned you of what was to come. This was not going to end with functional legs.
He refrained from mocking your soaked panties. Part of him knew that it would happen and the other part was proud that he caused it.
You stared at each other in adoration, ogling your bodies shamelessly. You could almost drool at the sight of his toned abs and pumped chest. The way his cock stood erect against his stomach ready to engulf your walls. If your legs weren’t spread beforehand, you would be squirming to relieve yourself. And if you weren’t pregnant already, your ovaries would be in pain.
He breathed in, attempting to hold back from pouncing at you like a predator. Your bump is slightly more prominent since you’re on your back, your nipples are erect and the change in your areolas is making his head spin.
“Wide hips, full breasts, swollen tummy and a dripping pussy. That’s my girl.” He spoke like a man who was proud of what he had done. If you didn’t wish to stay under the radar for a while, he’d probably tell strangers on the street that he’s going to be a dad.
“Well this pussy is feral and hormonal so get to it.” You were not here to mess around, you knew what you needed and he could never say no to you. Especially not when you’re using your hand to spread your lips and give him a glimpse of the stored load that he released inside you earlier today.
“Hormonal or not, you know I can’t get enough of you.” He positioned himself between your legs and lowered his face to inhale the smell of wetness mixed with his cum. It was like a ritual for him.
The only thing that didn’t change during pregnancy is getting your pussy filled with his cum. He was content in doing so pre-pregnancy and will continue to stuff you until you give birth.
His tongue caught some of the semen that was dripping down your inner thighs making you arch your back.
It felt so warm yet it stimulated your horniness. It made you aware that his cock wasn’t stuffing you to the brim. He’s obsessed with licking your pussy clean, and you know that he’ll fuck you when he’s done so you patiently wait.
He took a broad lick along your slit reaching to your clit, where he wrapped it around his mouth and suckled on it. You jerked your hips in reaction and tugged at his hair.
“Such a fertile pussy for daddy.” He spat on your vulva, observing how the saliva trailed down your already wet folds. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly in response.
Being inside the house every day with your fiancée felt like being in a sex club. The constant sex and foreplay prompted you to be wet at all times, but most importantly sensitive.
Your sensitivity increased and you didn’t care whether it was due to pregnancy or Harry’s hunger , because your orgasms have been countless.
“Ohhhh.” Your eyes were shut and your chest was rising up and down as you poured all of your focus on the way Harry’s tongue was suckling your clitoris.
The wet slurping sounds along with his moans were outrageous. His fingers dug into your skin but not as harsh as usual. He adored having bruises on your skin, the same way you leave crescent nail marks on his back, but he’s been very cautious since you began trying for a baby a few months ago.
“Should I praise this cunt for taking all of my cum or degrade it?” He looked up to you, his chin resting on your pelvis as he panted heavily with juices coating his chin and a fallen hair strand covering his forehead.
“Both.” You smiled reaching for his veiny hand that’s adorned with rings (and wetness) and brought it up to your breasts. Watching his pupils darken was a delight, your tits had gotten a bit fuller and you went only one bra cup up but that didn’t matter a lot since you never wore bras around Harry.
You knew intuitively that his lactation kink would kick in soon, he loves eyeing your breasts when you’re wearing a low crop top with your small bump on display. It makes him go down on his knees (literally).
“I’ve been ignoring these beauties haven’t I?” He cooed, towering his body over yours while keeping one of his hands cupped over your pussy.
You nodded at his question giving him fuck me eyes that had him hypnotized. He’s still not done with your pussy, but you loved making his head spin with your body. He’s aware that he can’t pleasure you everywhere all at once and it pissed him off.
“You’re a fucking goddess.” He kissed your sternum and moved slowly to your full tits where he swallowed down his throat upon laying his eyes on your perky nipples.
“You like them?”.Teasing him was entertaining. You tweaked one of your nipples followed by biting your bottom lip, before clenching your pussy knowing that his hand is placed there.
“I worship them.” He breathed out almost instantly and took the other bud inside his mouth.
“Gonna provide milk for our babies. Such an amazing mama aren’t you?”. Hearing him say “babies” in plural had you moaning. You can’t wait for him to breed you again.
He couldn’t contain himself once he began suckling on your breasts, his fingers that were cupping your pussy plunged inside it as he grinned at how your back arched in response.
“I can feel my cum deep in your pussy.” He whispered in your ear after reluctantly detaching from your bud.
“Guess I got used to raising my hips after all those breeding sessions.” He curled his fingers inside and he was not wrong at all. You felt the warm cum flowing inside of you and your whole body tingled knowing that you’ll get another load soon.
He suddenly retracted his body away from you and redirected his attention to your pussy that was dripping on his fingers. He tapped on your thighs, signaling for you to raise your legs over his shoulders. He was obsessed with being trapped this way.
He turned relentless with licking and suckling, balancing between overstimulating your sensitive nerve bud, plunging his thick fingers inside your warm walls, licking up your mixed juices, and slapping your vulva.
“Uhhh—fuck me.” You whined from the excessive pleasure he was providing you as you jerked your hips into his mouth.
“Oh, baby—I will. I’ll hit your cervix the way you like, the same way that got my seed into your womb.” He added in another finger while flicking your engorged swollen clitoris.
“But first, cum for me.” He ordered with a direct tone that dripped with authority. And who are you to refuse him?
Your orgasm washed over your body as your moans echoed through the room combined with curses. Your hand tugged at Harry’s hair who completely shoved his face in your pussy.
“Atta Girl. That’s it, sweetheart.” It was an intense orgasm and the aftermath was even more extreme. Harry pressed delicate pecks to your pulsating pussy and inner thighs as he murmured praises of love.
Your chest heaved and your pussy was clenching around nothing. It was one hell of an orgasm, more of a warm up even.
“Are you still going to fuck me?” You caught him off guard with your question. Your legs were shaking yet your grip on him was going to leave bruises. It seemed like you would cry if he didn’t stick his cock inside of you.
He moved your hair out of your face and kissed your temple. “Of course I will darling. Gotta take care of my pretty fiancĂ©e.” He took in your post-orgasm glow before leaving love marks over your bare skin.
You were intertwined together and the breeze from the window invaded the air with a rich aroma. Everything felt sweet and intimate. Harry’s body engulfed yours as he whispered the filthiest promises in your ear.
You were both stuck in a safe bliss.
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Taglist: @prettythingsworld @slut4marvelmenn @fullofstyles @cherrycokeslay @wandas-lawyer @tbsloneely @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @missmielyhoran @harryssideboob @harrysficreblog @hsonlyangelxo @gem1712 @adachhi @tpwkkkkk @grapejuicebluesrry @summertime-pills @lhhrryismyhome @marzhshaim @harrystylessslut @keepdrivingkisses @rideeonstyles @matildasatellite @a-strange-familiar @greivingfortheliving @babyyangel111 @soblavk @straightnogayhs @awesomenavy @infinatetatie @be-with-me-so-happily @harrysrockstarsgf
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kiwi-claire · 6 months
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American Psycho*
Summary: Part of Halloween Kinktober, Freaky Fun, and One for the Money*
The one where you and your boss, Mr. Styles, have a little bit too much fun at the office Halloween party.
Can be read as standalone!
Word Count: 4.6k
*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*
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“What
are you wearing?”
Mr. Styles glances down at his dark suit, brow cocked upward. “What does it look like?”
“Har,” you huff, although you’re smiling as you toss your makeup bag aside and move closer, “I thought you were putting on a costume. It’s a Halloween party, you’re supposed to dress up.”
“I am,” he argues. “I’m dressed as a guy that doesn’t want to fucking go.”
You laugh. “Come on, be fun for a change.”
“I’m the boss. I’m not supposed to be fun.”
“Well, they’re throwing this party for you,” you remind him. “Nadia’s been talking about it all week.”
“Right, instead of working. Which is not what I pay her to do.”
“Harry,” you repeat, shooting him a pointed look. “Seriously, why don’t you put on a little fake blood or something? You could go as Patrick Bateman!”
“And why would I do that when I could just not go at all?”
Pushing your pink, painted lips into a pout, you straighten up onto your tiptoes, and snake your arms around his neck. “Please, Sir? Just this once? For me?”
He begins to frown, but you feel his hands find your hips, expression stern but amused. “Peach
”
“I won’t ever ask for anything ever again,” you murmur, letting your mouth ghost atop his teasingly. “Swear. And I’ll behave all night. Be so good for you.”
He likes this idea, studying you carefully as his grip tightens. “Is that so?”
“Incredibly so. Just want to have fun with you, Sir.”
“I know,” he sighs, now cupping his palm against your cheek. “But you know the rule, honey. We can’t be seen together, not at the office.”
“I know,” you echo. “But we can still go. Even if we can’t exactly hold hands and dance in front of everybody, we can have fun. And I want that for you. You never take the stick out of your ass.”
Pinching your jaw playfully, he snorts. “And I thought you were gonna be good.”
“Once you agree, yeah. Until then, I make no promises.”
With a smirk, he grasps onto your chin, and tugs you to him. Smashing his lips to yours until you exhale gratefully and melt into his touch.
“Besides,” you mumble, “if you don’t come with me, then I’ll have to go in my slutty costume all by myself.”
Now you have his attention, his eyes narrowing sternly as he leans back to see you. “Oh, really?”
You nod. “Yup. Thought I’d use some of the lingerie you got me and go as a Playboy bunny.”
You can feel his heart racing beneath your fingertips – even through his nice dress shirt – and it makes you chuckle.
“Did you?” He doesn’t seem to have much else to offer, but you can see his walls beginning to crumble.
“Mhm. Equipped with a fuzzy little tail and ears.”
He swallows thickly before clearing his throat in an effort to appear nonchalant. “Well, let’s see it then.”
“Only if you agree to go.”
“Peach,” he warns, frowning again but you’re quick to shake your head.
“That’s my deal, Sir. Take it or leave it.”
And while you can tell he wants to be cross with you, he begins to smile, clearly amused with your negotiation tactics. Perhaps even a little proud.
“Fine,” he finally concedes, making you grin. “But I’m not putting on any makeup.”
“No, just a little fake blood,” you suggest, immediately rushing toward your bag to retrieve the bottle. “It won’t stain, and it washes right out.”
He eyes you carefully while you scurry across his apartment. “And I suppose you’d like me to carry an ax, too.”
“I mean
it would sell the part,” you tease. “But let’s start with the blood. Go wait in the bathroom and I’ll go change really quick.”
“No, don’t,” he calls, almost firmly before you can slip from the room. “Not yet.”
You hesitate. “Okay
why? What’s wrong?”
His tongue runs over his bottom lip while his head cocks deviously to the side. “Because if you do
then we aren’t ever leaving this apartment.”
And you can’t help but grin.
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“Let me guess
Edward Cullen?”
Even from a few feet away, you can see Harry’s expression fall. “Funny.”
“What?” Nadia smiles. “Come on, you look just like him. The blood and the suit and everything. It’s good.”
“Great,” he grumbles but you can tell he’s amused.
She laughs. “Patrick Bateman is a good look for you, boss. I like it. Feels
fitting.”
“Is that so?”
“It is. But in a sexy, fun kind of way.”
He snorts before his eyes trail over to you. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
You wink.
The party is relaxed but enjoyable. Everyone is mingling, drinking, and dancing to the upbeat, spooky playlist. The usually boring, gray interior of the office floor is decorated with orange lights, carved pumpkins, and an array of ghostly décor. And nearly everyone came in costume, making it feel that much more like Halloween.
And despite the fact that you and Mr. Styles are forced to remain distant, you find yourself admiring him from across the room almost all evening. Happy that he seems to have finally begun to unwind, relax, and even enjoy himself. 
You watch as he engages in chatter with some of the other men in the finance department. You catch his eye while you’re grabbing a drink of the festive punch. And you feel him stare as you and Nadia head to the middle of the floor to dance to Somebody’s Watching Me.
Truth be told, you find it hard to be away from him after so many nights together. And even though it’s what you both agreed on, you feel a certain sort of longing for the handsome man in the corner of the room. 
However, neither of you are quite ready to tell the office you’re dating yet or deal with the potential fallout. At least not right now, when things are so new. Special. You suppose that could change in the future, but at least for tonight, he’s your dirty little secret.
So you resort to exchanging sneaky glances from time to time as you enjoy the party. Like now, when you catch his subtle but devious smile from behind the shadows while his hand casually slips into his suit jacket pocket. 
It’s a nonchalant motion. Relaxed enough that you barely catch on as you and Nadia continue swaying back and forth to the rhythm. Enjoying the heavy bass and eerie tune. 
And then, suddenly
you feel it. The first, gentle vibration from the toy sitting snugly inside your pussy. 
Your breath hitches.
And now you understand his look of amusement and the disappearance of his hand. He’s testing out the toy, warning you of his intentions even from the other side of the room. 
Just like he promised.
After all, that was his only condition. He’d dress up, he’d play nice, he’d be a good boss.
But if he wasn’t allowed to touch you all night, he at least wanted to have some fun. And remind you that he is still the one you belong to.
A reminder he gleefully gives you now, turning up the strength on the small bullet inside your cunt while he continues chatting with Alex from IT.
He’s not looking at you anymore – something you almost despise – but it’s obvious that he’s entertained. Fighting against a wry grin as he nods along in conversation. 
You, on the other hand, are beginning to feel the effects of the teasing. A sharp, pleasurable chill running down your legs while you falter in place and swallow a gasp.
Confused, Nadia eyes you carefully. “You okay?” she calls over the music, leaning closer. “You look a little woozy.”
“I’m
no, I’m
I’m good,” you manage to stammer, forcing a nod before you continue with your dance. “S’just hot in here, I guess.”
“God, you’re telling me,” she snorts, running a knuckle under her eye to catch some smeared makeup. “Last time I commit to the leather pants.”
Exhaling a laugh, you slowly pull your thighs together, hoping to lessen the vibrations currently traveling through your pussy. “Well, you look great.”
“Thanks,” she laughs before gesturing up and down at your costume. “What about you, hm? This is the sexiest corset I’ve ever seen.”
“Thanks, it’s quite hard to breathe in,” you retort playfully, glancing over the pink silk on your torso. “This will also be the last time I commit to lingerie in public.”
“Fair enough. But that’s what Halloween is for, right? So you can be your true, slutty self just for one night.”
You chuckle again before slowly looking over to catch a glimpse of your sadistic boyfriend. However, you find that the smug bastard is now nowhere to be found. Having disappeared from the room, leaving you to struggle without him.
And then, you feel the strength increase.
It’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore the pleasure building in your stomach or the sharp rushes of ecstasy that echo across your clit. Which you suppose is his goal, although you aren’t sure why he’s so determined to make you fall apart under so many obvious eyes.
But you imagine that’s part of the fun. The idea that even though he can’t be with you, he can control your pleasure.
And you have to admit
you adore him for it.
With a shaky exhale, you nod your head toward the exit. “I’m, uh
I’m gonna go get some fresh air for a bit. I’ll be right back.”
Nadia nods. “No problem. I’ll be here.”
Leaving her with a smile, you begin to search for where he might have gone. You imagine his office, although you aren’t quite sure how you’re meant to meet him when so many people are watching.
Sure, more than half the room is drunk or otherwise occupied, but you don’t want to taunt fate. Especially after begging him to come in the first place.
But the painful pleasure in your cunt is beginning to worsen and you realize rather quickly that there’s only one solution.
Him.
So, you take a deep breath and slip into the adjoining hall, traveling through the darkness until you find his door.
You take a deep breath and knock twice, calling a soft but hopeful, “Mr. Styles? Are you in there?”
The sound of a lock turning nearly makes you shiver, and you can’t help but grin giddily as the door swings open, and a hand outstretches for you.
You’re yanked inside before you can even offer a greeting, tossed mercilessly toward his desk while he slams the door shut, and turns to face you.
And he’s stunning. So effortlessly beautiful, even with the blood dripping down his face. You wonder if you should be worried you find this so attractive, but you don’t exactly have it in you to care. Because the way his disheveled suit hugs his broad frame is sinfully delicious and the ruby droplets smeared across his jaw makes your cunt clench around the toy.
He strides toward you, drinking you in like he’s dying of thirst. Eyes dark and clouded with salacious intentions. 
He takes hold of your face between strong palms and crashes his mouth to yours. Hips pushing you back until you collide with the wooden table just behind you. Trapping you there while you gasp for air and tangle your fingers in his messy curls.
He groans in response, nipping at your bottom lip until you can’t breathe. “Gonna fucking kill me, Peach. Walking around in this slutty little costume. Almost came in my pants when you bent over.”
You smirk lazily as his kisses move down your neck. “Good, that was my plan.”
He makes another animalistic noise before shoving at your waist a bit harder. 
One hand disappears back into his pocket while the other travels up your fishnet stockings and settles against your cunt. The heel of his palm pressing against your covered clit as his harsh kisses dance beneath your ear.
“Shit, Har—” you gasp before you feel him tug your skin between his teeth. “Sir. Please
need
”
“I know,” he grunts, increasing the power of the toy until you’re both moaning. “Can feel it, Peach. Feels good, hm? Feels so fucking good. Bet you’re gonna cum in your pretty, little panties before I even touch you, yeah?”
You make another incoherent noise as his hand pushes the toy further into your pussy. The electric vibrations reverberate across his palm, doubling the sensation until your head just about drops back. Making the bunny ears slip to the ground, forgotten. 
“Good,” he hums, and you feel a bit of his fake blood smear across your neck. “S’a good girl, honey. Already close, aren’t you? What a pathetic little thing. Always fall apart so fast when I use a toy to play with you.”
You nod quickly in agreement. After all, he’s right. Vibrators have you coming faster than almost anything else – besides his cock.
And his mouth.
This is a fact he utilizes now, nudging the vibrator further into you until your legs begin to shake. You can feel it in your stomach, the first unraveling as it becomes stronger, and louder, and faster.
You fling an arm around his shoulders for stability before you’re disintegrating beneath him. Writhing and squirming and panting as he sees you through. 
“There you go,” he whispers, mouth brushing over yours. Wanting to taste your moans as you come down. “You’re all right, my love. Doing so good, hm? Gonna give me another?”
You nod faintly and he smirks before reaching beneath your corset top to find the decorative panties attached to your costume. 
He shoves them aside without pause before ripping the delicate fabric of the stockings almost fiercely. And far too easily for your liking.
He then retrieves the small toy from inside your cunt – smiling when he feels how soaked the silicone has become – before he’s dragging it up to your clit. Pressing the stimulating tip into your sensitive and swollen nerves as you suddenly gasp and go reeling.
“Shh,” he hushes, glancing over your face. “Can’t be too loud, hm? Y’know I love it when you scream for me, but we can’t let me hear, can we?”
“It’s
it’s Halloween,” you counter. “They’re used to screams.”
But Mr. Styles merely smirks. “Be that as it may
I don’t want to share your screams with anyone else. Not tonight.”
You feel your head grow fuzzier as he dips down to take your lips with his.
“Tonight
your screams belong to me,” he exhales against your tongue before he’s pressing the vibrator harder against your cunt.
You’re a mess. Soaking his hand, your outfit, the toy. Shaking almost pitifully while he finally releases the remote to press his palm to the back of your neck. Forcing your faces together until neither one of you can breathe without the other.
He was right, you are pathetic. So goddamn tragic as you begin to shake beneath the bullet. Already close to your second orgasm of the evening before he’s even had a chance to tease you.
But you don’t think he minds. He collects your orgasms like PokĂ©mon cards. Wearing the number proudly until you’re nothing but a pile of limbs in his arms.
Two is only a start. And you know as long as he has this toy, he plans to force you into many more.
“Fucking shit, Peach,” he groans, forehead resting against yours as he glances down at where his hand is settled between your thighs. “Oh, that’s my girl. Always behave so well for me. Knew you would, yeah? Just like you promised.”
Again, you can do nothing but nod weakly. Still clinging to his body like a lifeline while he strokes you through the aftershocks.
“Okay,” he finally sighs, removing the toy and swiping his thumb across your clit. Collecting the arousal waiting for him just to bring it up to his lips. “Okay, honey, turn around. Bend over the desk for me.”
You whimper at the way he takes his body from you and from the very idea of what comes next. You hate that you won’t be able to see his face, but you adore this position. Especially because of the way he manhandles you.
Like now as his hands suddenly grasp onto your hips to fling you around so you’re facing his large, floor to ceiling windows.
The city is beautiful at night. Lit up like a prize, vast and seemingly endless. It’s one of your favorite things about his office and you smile to yourself as you take in the view.
But you aren’t afforded the chance to daydream long before he’s weaving his fingers through your roots and pushing you down until your chest meets his desk. Keeping you bent and pliable as he undoes his leather belt.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, squeezing your scalp as though to reward you. “Gonna fuck you quick. Can’t have Nadia come looking for you, can we?”
You whimper a response before you hear his pants fall to the floor, followed by a snapping of elastic as he pulls his cock from his briefs. 
“Let me have a look at you,” he grits, releasing your head so he can stand back and admire your dripping pussy. Pulling back the costume until your cunt is on display for his hungry eyes. “So fucking cute, Peach. S’all pretty and red. Just weeping for me, hm?”
“Sir—”
“Get all sensitive when I make you cum a lot, don’t you?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer. “Your puffy little clit gets all swollen and achy, hm?”
“Yes
yes, Sir, please—”
“Just one more for now, yeah? Just one. And then I’ll take you home and do it right.”
There’s a racing in your chest that can’t be contained. A sharp thrill that lives beneath your skin. He’s everything. His voice, his touch, his intentions. Even his mind. It’s wickedly beautiful and you adore him more than anything in the world.
You feel his fingers smooth through your folds. Teasing you for only a moment before you feel his cock come into play. Repeating the action of pressing and slipping through the wetness that awaits him.
“Can’t tell you what this costume does to me,” he whispers, groping your side with one hand. Preparing you. “You, and this tight, little fucking top, and these goddamn tights. Everybody was staring when you came in. Fucking everybody and I could’ve killed them.”
 You moan something akin to his name, but he’s not listening. He’s lost on you. On your body and the way it looks, spread out before him.
“Even this fucking bunny tail,” he snorts, and you feel him pinch the fuzzy ball on your ass playfully. “Sits so pretty on you, y’know. Just like that plug I got you.”
“Shit,” you mumble, stomach clenching at the memory. “Har—”
His hand comes down in a sharp strike to your left ass cheek as you jolt. “Uh-uh. What’s my name?”
“Sir,” you correct, eyes squeezing shut. “Sir, please
please fuck me. Need you so bad—”
“Do you, hm?” He lands another spank before smoothing over the area with calmer motions.
You nod. “You look so good, Sir. Can’t
can’t stand it.”
Even without being able to see him, you can picture his smirk. “Do I?”
“Yes,” you exhale, almost groaning from the thought. “Covered in blood, wearing my favorite suit. Even the way you did your hair. S’been so hard to keep my hands off you tonight.”
You hear a dark, rather sadistic chuckle. “You like the blood, do you?”
You whimper. “Know I shouldn’t, but
it makes you look so fucking hot, Sir.”
Another harsh smack to your ass. Louder this time. “You know how I feel about your cussing, Peach.”
“M’sorry, Sir. But it’s true. You’re so fucking hot like this.”
He spanks you a fourth time but he’s still chuckling. “I’ll remember that,” he murmurs, kneading the tender flesh in his palm. “Never thought my precious peach would have such dirty fantasies.”
 “I don’t, Sir. Only when it’s you.”
And he seems to like this idea, cursing in the back of his throat before nudging the tip of his cock against your clit. Making you both gasp until he finds your hole.
The first push in is delicious. Slow enough to prepare you and ease you open, but it’s everything. Scratching an itch that makes your brain turn to mush. Until you’re nearly collapsing onto his desk with anxious whimpers. 
“Good,” he breathes from behind you. “Good girl. That’s it, my love. Let me in, just like that. You all right?”
Another faint motion of your head. One that almost concerns him as he laces his fingers back through your roots.
“Peach,” he grunts. “Know I need your words. And you will give them to me when I ask for them. So what’s your color?”
“Green,” you whisper, nails curling into the wooden table beneath. “M’sorry, Sir, I’m green. Just feels so good. Wanted
to focus. To feel you.”
You hear him sigh before he’s pushing in a bit further. “Then fucking feel me.”
He sits inside your cunt like he was always meant to be there. Warm and thick and the perfect stretch. Making the stars return to your eyes as you begin to cry out his name.
However, he releases your scalp only to reach around and smack his palm against your lips. Keeping you quiet as he begins his thrusts.
“Uh-uh,” he warns. “Be a good little bunny and stay quiet.”
The pace is slow at first. Just enough to drive you absolutely mad and you imagine the scariest thing about tonight is how easily you’ve become such a blubbering mess.
“Like it when Daddy’s mean, don’t you?” he calls, returning both hands to your hips. “Like it when I treat you like you’re nothing.”
You can feel the sticky substance of the fake blood smearing across your hips. Probably staining your clothes – an obvious mark of his touch. A mark you’d proudly wear for the rest of your life if he’d let you.
“So fucking wet, honey,” he hisses. “S’just drowning my cock, isn’t it?”
You offer a garbled noise.
“Yeah. Just dripping down me, baby. Begging me to do something about it. Begging me to fucking take you.”
Your entire body is shaking. Along with the desk and an assortment of papers and pens that become scattered with every sharp drive of his hips. 
And you can hear it. Can hear the sound of his cock slipping in and out of your pussy and echoing between the walls of his large office. Wet, and lewd, and almost pornographic in nature. It’s obvious how needy you are for him. How unhinged your body has become. Soaking him exactly the way he loves as he fucks himself into you.
You can feel the sweat beading at your hairline. Can hear your pulse thumping in your ears – in time to the music in the other room and the thrusting of his hips. Leaving you to do nothing but lay across his desk and take it. Take him, exactly the way he wanted.
“How about another, hm?” He squeezes your sides harshly before one hand leaves you. “Gonna give me another, my love?”
Nodding tiredly, you allow your lashes to flutter shut. Focusing instead on the sound of his voice and the rough touch of his fingertips. You can feel it building. Can practically taste the beginnings of a third orgasm. You’re powerless to the pleasure. Undone by the man behind you as he readjusts his stance and angles his cock up.
It’s wicked. The immense, overwhelming, and unfathomable coursing of lust between each joint, and muscle, and fiber. You can’t escape it, can’t fight it. Can’t even understand it.
That’s what you needed. That spot, that attention. Over and over and over, and he’s so good at hitting it just right. Only to drag his cock back out and leave you empty and wilted.
“Relax,” he orders firmly before a familiar buzzing reverberates between your ears. “Relax, Peach. It’s okay, honey. Just want one more.”
The bullet is snaked around your hip before it’s pressing firmly to your clit. Forcing the sensitive and swollen bud to succumb to the vibrations and bring you that much closer.
You cry out for a second time, hands scratching down his desk, but he only curses through gritted teeth.
“There you go,” he exhales, and it’s thick. “S’okay, I’ve got you.”
He’s a mad man. Deranged and borderline animalistic with the way he demands your body bent to his will.
“Sir—” You suck in a large gasp for air, but it’s useless. “Har, please—”
His large palm spanks down on your ass as punishment, but he doesn’t comment on your slip.  “I know. Almost there. Know you’re almost there, can feel you clenching, baby. Keep going. Feels so fucking good—”
“Can’t
can’t—”
“Yes, you can. Know it hurts, but you can do it. You’ll do it, come on.”
And you want to, you do. More than anything, but it’s almost too good. You can’t think properly, can’t seem to relax long enough to let the orgasm overtake you.
Then, he’s wrangling you up. Pulling you until your back is pressed against his chest while he nudges his nose against your cheek. Inhaling you with a groan before he trails a few open-mouthed kisses along your neck. 
And in the reflection of his office windows, you see your silhouettes.
You, in your stunning Playboy costume, tits bouncing up out of the corset with each thrust, fake blood painted across your face and neck.
And him.
The devastatingly wonderful man behind you. Dressed in the sexiest suit you’ve ever seen, gelled curls gone askew, and that same blood dripping down almost every inch of him.
And he’s pounding his cock into your cunt like there’s no tomorrow. Trapping you against his body, your heaving chest in one hand, and the vibrating toy in the other. 
“So good, Peach,” he whispers. “So fucking good. Need you to cum, baby, please. Right now. Cum.”
And you do.
You don’t expect it. Have no time to prepare for it. Don’t even understand it’s happening until that white-hot explosion is dancing down your spine and expanding through your stomach. All the way into your toes as you whimper his name and wither in his touch. 
He does his best to hold you up while maintaining the pace he set. Faster and harder until he’s spilling inside of you with a moan. Mumbling your name while a hundred praises follow suit.
The aftershocks of this one seem to drag on longer than most. But you both indulge in the floaty feeling as you work to catch your breath. Syncopating to each other’s inhales until your heartbeats become one. 
“Did so good,” he sighs, nuzzling his cheek to yours. “God, so fucking good. Feel like heaven, you know that?”
You smile lazily and settle into his arms, allowing your weight to rest atop his. “Well
it’s easy when you look like this.”
He chuckles softly and kisses your temple. “You really do have a blood kink, hm?”
“No, I have a you-covered-in-blood kink. I don’t care when it’s anybody else.”
Now, he reaches out to slide his finger under your chin and turn your face to his. Staring at you for only a moment before he kisses you. Hard and yet filled with an emotion you just might recognize.
“Want you to do something for me, Peach,” he mumbles against your lips.
You nod quickly.
“Want you to fix your little panties
go down to my car
and wait for me.” 
You feel your breath hitch.
He smiles.
“We’ve got some videotapes to make.”
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kiwi-claire · 6 months
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Harry at Coachella 2022 | I Will Survive feat Lizzo (via @bdeharry)
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kiwi-claire · 9 months
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i cannot do this any longer
credit: youbringmeeehome
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