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celestie0 · 3 months

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.6 devil's advocate

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 6/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 10.7k

a/n. so sorry for the wait! i'm really excited for this chapter, it's one that i've been waiting for since before i even started the series, and it was a lot of fun to write. i hope you enjoooy <3 if there are typos, your mind is just playing tricks on you

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 :: ch10 (pending)

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

Life after realizing you had feelings for Gojo Satoru seemed to pass by in slow-motion, as you spent a significant portion of the day consumed by thoughts of him. Although it was against your better judgment, it was nice to have your mind occupied by something that wasn’t career stress, school stress, or financial stress. It’s been a minute since you’ve felt this way about someone, and it was healthy to indulge in some escapism, right?

You find yourself scrolling through his Instagram page for the second third time today, captivated by the attractive photos of him in his soccer uniform, kicking at the ball with a determined look on his face. Your gaze fixates on the blue follow-back button staring back at you on his page, remembering that you still haven’t followed him back. Pulling your phone away from your line of sight, you glance up at the ceiling, take a deep breath, and swiftly tap the blue button. You clutch your phone to your chest right after, surprised by the butterflies in your stomach, but it’s only ten seconds before you’re back to perusing his photos.

You sigh dreamily from where you were laid back on your bed. Mina looks up at you from her desk with an irritated expression on her face.

“What’s with the dreamy sighing every thirty seconds? I’m trying to study here,” she says to you.

You throw her a look. “Oh please, I’ve had to deal with your dreamy sighs every single time you were on the phone with Todo for the past two weeks. You can handle a few of mine.”

Mina’s eyes widen at your words and she turns in her chair to look at you intently. “Wait…who are you dreamily sighing for?”

You blink in response. “Oh, uh. No one? I mean, what’s that one actor’s name–the one in that show we were watching?” You tap your finger to your lip, pretending to be in deep thought, but Mina wasn’t buying any of it since she promptly stood up from her chair and snatched your phone out of your hand. You yelp and sit up on your bed to try and grab it back from her but she has that I was the eldest sibling in my household grip on your phone.

“Is this…Gojo Satoru’s Instagram page?” she asks, extending your phone out in front of her and tilting her head to the side at the screen, as though she was trying to wrap her head around it.

“Stop! You’ll accidentally tap on something,” you’re squealing at her, arms flailing out in an attempt to grab at your phone. She eventually hands it back to you and you’re sighing with relief before flopping back down onto your bed, fingers eagerly swiping up on the screen to make sure she didn’t accidentally like one of his posts from four months ago.

“Are you crushing on Gojo Satoru?” Mina asks with her hands on her hips.

You meet her gaze with a hint of guilt. You haven’t kept Mina up-to-speed on a lot of the things that have happened within the past three weeks, including the night last week when Gojo stayed with you out on the road after you got your flat tire and then kissed you. It’s been about five days since then, and you feel that if you fessed up now, she’d be mad that you didn’t tell her right away.

“I’m…” you start as you look at her and she raises an eyebrow at you that makes you sheepishly sit up on your bed, pretty much kneeling in front of her. “Maybe. A little bit? I don’t know.”

She looks at you with surprise before walking backwards and sitting onto her bed, facing you. She presses her lips together, deep in thought, and there’s an almost concerned expression on her face. “When did this develop?”

You end up explaining pretty much everything that has happened between you and Gojo as of recently, her face staying neutral through even the most surprising details, and by the time you’re done explaining and waiting for her to give a response, you realize you’re tensing your shoulders and holding your breath.

She sighs, sulking a little and her bed frame creaks underneath the mattress. “I can’t believe you kissed Gojo Satoru and you didn’t tell me about it, like, practically the second after it happened. Also, you never told me that’s why you called me that night! It makes sense now why your car has been in ‘service’ for almost an entire week. I feel so horrible you went through that and I wasn’t there for you.”

“It’s okay,” you assure her with a small smile. “I’m fine. It was really nerve-wracking in the moment,” you say as you glance down at your hands, twiddling with your thumbs as the memories of that night flash through your mind. “But having him there really helped calm me down,” you admit in a hushed tone. When you look up at Mina, she wears a soft and knowing expression on her face.

“That’s good, I’m glad,” she murmurs and returns your smile with one of her own, but her eyes still look at you with caution.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing’s wrong, it’s just I don’t really know Gojo that well. From what you’re telling me, he seems like a nice guy,” she comments, “but the fact he’s been really diligent in following-through with this whole film photography assignment of yours makes me wonder where his head’s at with you.” She finishes her sentence, but you continue to watch her since you could tell she had more on her tongue. “I just hope he’s not messing with you.”

“Messing with me?” you ask her. There’s a part of you deep inside that’s wondering the same thing, but the thought of having to confront that feeling in order to get an answer makes you want to stay in blissful ignorance instead.

She worries her bottom lip between her teeth and looks at you for a few seconds. “Maybe I’m overthinking it. It’s just a crush, right?” Her phone chimes with an alarm noise and she grabs it to turn it off. “Oh shoot, I’m going to be late for class,” she groans, leaping up off of her bed and stuffing all of her things on her desk into her bag. She gives you a goodbye over her shoulder just before she heads out of your shared room and then you’re all by yourself.

Mina’s last question to you hangs in the air. You didn’t really know how you would’ve answered, because you didn’t know what you expected to come from your feelings, if anything at all. You’ve had feelings for plenty of other guys before, some turning into something more and others turning into nothing at all. Having feelings for someone wasn’t really something to worry about or complicate.

You lay back down onto your bed with a sigh and go to the messages on your phone, clicking on Gojo’s name. It was so bizarre that he was now in your list of actual text messages since you had his number now, but the two of you have only exchanged a few texts since that night you last saw him. He sent over his practice schedule for the week, which was pretty packed and busy since their big game on the 28th was in just two days, and when you zoom in on the picture you see that he has practice in about ten minutes from now. You assumed that since he never texted you about it, they were probably just doing drills out on the field or some other exercises. But you missed him, and you wished that you did have an excuse to visit him. You didn’t care about tweaking your camera angles, fixing the exposure, or trying out different light sensitivities for your photos so they come out immaculate. You just wanted to see him again.

Tossing your phone to your side, suddenly frustrated by how mentally drained you feel, you look around the room and decide to tidy up a bit to distract yourself from all your emotions. As you start to pick things up off your desk and place them back on the shelf, you notice that you still have a netted bag full of washed laundry to fold. You dump all of the clothing onto your bed, consisting of sports bras, multiple pairs of jeans, your nice panties and also your grandma undies. One of the articles of clothing catches your eye, and you pull it out from the pile. It was Gojo’s jacket.

Your heart skips a beat in your chest as you take in the sight of it, all the memories of that night flashing back into your head. You remember the chill of the air, the deep sound of his voice beside you, the gentle look in his eyes, his lips pressed against yours. Gojo had kissed you, so that had to have meant something, right? Maybe it was a spur of the moment thing, an emotional decision because the two of you were alone, and it was dark, and it was cold, and you two were reveling in each other’s warmth, but it was still something he initiated. It was so brief, the moment cut so tragically short that you still find yourself craving more despite the fact it happened almost a week ago. Mina wasn’t home that night, and instead of spending the rest of it curled up by yourself like you ended up doing, you could’ve easily invited him inside. You wonder if he would’ve taken you up on the offer, and how far you two would’ve gone. And now, because you were imaging it, you find it in your heart that you wanted it. Before you know it, those feelings you swore you wouldn’t complicate started to feel complicated. If all the novels, movies, poems, and folklore of this world have been any indicator, when it comes to matters of the heart, it’s always impossible to defy.

You bring the jacket to your chest, the fabric now smelling like the laundry detergent that all of your other clothes smell like, and no longer of him. It was the polite thing to do to wash it, but the absence of his scent on the soft material just made you miss him even more.

Closing your eyes in disbelief at the thought that crosses your mind, you resolve to act now and deal with whatever comes later. If you wanted to see him, you were going to see him. Besides, wanting to hand his jacket back to him wasn’t so bad of an excuse to drop by, right? What if it was a deeply sentimental article of clothing that is agonizing for him to be apart from? (a/n. he doesn’t even realize you still have it lol)

You grab your tote bag as well as his jacket and head out of your apartment, down to the ground floor, and walk down the street until you reach the bus stop that takes you to campus. You make it there in about forty minutes, the bus dropping you off near the central area. As you start walking towards the expensive art sculpture near the practice fields, you pass by the school’s mini convenience store and the bottles of strawberry vanilla soda splayed out in the display case catches your eye. You then find yourself inside buying two cans. One for him, one for you. Maybe he’ll be open to hanging out after practice, and you could properly treat him to something nice for all of his help.

Soon enough, you’re walking across the grassy hills that lead to the field. It was a slightly gloomy day today, with the sun only peaking through the clouds every five minutes or so, but it was still beautiful and something about the fresh air made your chest swell with ease. Just as you get closer, you notice Geto and Nanami walking together in your direction.

“Oh, it’s y/n!” you hear Geto say when you approach them.

You greet the two of them with a smile. “Hello, it’s nice to see you two. Are you finished with practice?”

“No, we’ve still got about two hours left, but we just finished a pretty intense set of drills so coach is giving us a fifteen,” Geto says through strained breathing, and you finally notice that the two of them looked sweaty and spent. “What’s that in your arms?”

You look down at the strawberry vanilla sodas you were carrying and then back up at the two of them. “Oh…I just wanted to bring some soda for mr. center forward, as a thanks for getting me referee permission to be on-field on Thursday.”

Nanami crosses his arms across his chest and Geto’s eyes widen. “Damn, wish I had a cute girl go out of her way to bring me strawberry-flavored soda mid practice,” Geto muses.

“I don’t think Satoru deserves this level of kindness, y/n,” Nanami tells you with a shake of his head. Geto looks over at him with a wry expression before letting out a small laugh.

You give the two of them a smile. “No, really, he’s been helpful. Is he out on the field?” you ask, standing on tiptoes to try and peer over their shoulders towards the field.

“Yeah, he is, I think he stayed back since Coach Yaga was yelling at him about something,” Geto answers and he takes a glance at his watch, “he usually doesn’t stick around to take the lecturing for longer than two minutes so he’s probably somewhere hanging around nearby.”

“That’s good. Coach Yaga scares me,” you admit to the two of them, pretending to shiver at the thought of him yelling, and this earns a smile from Nanami.

“He’s really not that scary of a guy, just pretends to be one,” Geto informs you then lets out an exhale and places his hands on his hips after fully regaining his breath. “So, you’re going to be on the field with us on Thursday? That’s awesome, please cheer for us. Also, you should come out to the house party the night before the game.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “You guys still party before your big games?”

Geto laughs. “I always forget you’re not in a sorority. Yeah, we do, I think the frat just wants an excuse to go crazy and picks our game schedule to go off of. You’ve no idea how many of our players have been in massive shit by showing up hungover to games.”

Nanami lets out a disgruntled noise. “It’s irresponsible, honestly.”

You give an apologetic laugh before fidgeting with the soda cans in your arms, eventually throwing them into your tote, and then peering over their shoulders once more as an impatient feeling washes over you, the desire from earlier to see Gojo consuming you in a way that was entirely distracting. Nanami seems to notice this as he uncrosses his arms and slightly nudges Geto with his elbow. Geto sends him a curious glance before looking back at you.

“Well, anyway. If you’re free tomorrow night, come by. Pre-game parties are usually pretty hype. Yuuji’s bouncing, so he’ll let you in,” Geto says to you, giving you a kind smile.

“Yeah, I’ll try to make it,” you say, returning his smile. The two of them walk past you and you continue to trek forwards until you reach the large hill that oversees the field.

Once you’re at the top, your eyes immediately scan the field for Gojo, and you quickly spot him at the foot of the hill talking to some people. You notice the group surrounding him weren’t wearing athletic clothing of any sort, so you assumed they were just his friends. He had a bright smile on his face and just the sight of it created a warmth within you. As you begin to stumble down the hill, your legs hasty in their stride, you see him leaning down forward towards one of the girls in the group with a playful look on his face. The girl looks up at him with a tilt of her head and you hear feminine, high-pitched laughter in the air as she steps closer to him, swatting at his chest from something he says. He’s fully grinning at her now, and it’s so painfully obvious they’re flirting that the feeling in your chest that was so excited to see him quickly turns sour.

He somehow catches you standing at the bottom of the hill in his periphery and his eyes widen. There’s a moment where you hesitate, but eventually take a deep breath and make your way through the crowd. A few within the group let out confused noises from the disruption and then you were standing right in front of Gojo.

“Who’s this?” one of his friends asks, particularly annoyed since you had accidentally nudged him to the side in your stride. You could feel the wide eyes from the men and the curious glares from the women.

Gojo’s standing there shocked, likely from the fact that he wasn’t expecting you to be here, and then glances around to the people in the group. “Oh, just someone I…” he starts, his facial expression softening slightly when he looks back at you, but you’re giving him a guarded expression, “...know.”

Your mouth opens slightly in disbelief, before you quickly close it. It’s true that you didn’t really know what you and Gojo were at the moment, it’s possible you would’ve answered the same, but his description of the nature of your relationship with him still hurts. He could’ve at least said your name or introduced you. And your disappointment from his words made you realize an unsettling truth, which was that you did want more from him, and you weren’t sure if that was something he was interested in at all.

The girl he was talking to earlier is glaring daggers at your side, and you suddenly feel suffocated surrounded by a group of people watching you with interest. The man in front of you, despite getting to know him for the better part of the past three weeks, started to feel like a stranger to you all over again. You shove his jacket to his chest, and he looks down at it with surprise before hesitantly grabbing onto it.

“Just wanted to return your jacket,” you mumble to him, trying so hard to sound neutral and sane. “I washed it for you.”

You hear a few of the men surrounding you coo something suggestive, a few laughs making their way between them as the women in the group scoff in denial. You ignore them and keep your gaze on Gojo. He’s looking straight down at you and scanning your features, and you notice his face briefly contorts into one of guilt when he registers the disappointed look on your face.

Reaching into your bag, you pause when you see the two cans of strawberry vanilla soda sitting at the bottom, the smiling cartoon mascot faces on the labeling staring up at you like some pitiful conscience. You reached in and grabbed one regardless, then extended it to Gojo. He blinks at it before looking up at you. When he doesn’t immediately grab it, you also shove it to his chest until he does. When his fingertips make contact with your hand as he takes it from you, the contact sends a shiver down your spine.

You bite your lip, faltering before you speak again. “For your help. Officially even now.” Then you turn around and push through the strangers spectating the whole scene to make it over to the grassy hills. You vaguely hear Gojo call your name out from behind you, his voice quickly drowned out by the voices of those surrounding him as they continue conversation, and soon enough you’re out of sight over the hill.

—

“So, you’re telling me that this guy goes out of his way to help you for this class assignment, in a way that’s unproportionate to the favor that you put in for him, he flirtatiously teases you any chance he gets, drives out late at night to stay with you when you’re stranded with a flat, has an earnest conversation with you about life, kisses you, diligently takes care of you until you’re home safe, and then when you run into him in front of his friends, he says you’re just someone he knows?” Mina’s recounting every single painful detail as she paces around in your shared room. “I know you both haven’t had a conversation about anything after that night, which is insane because you should’ve, but at least he could’ve said you were a friend?”

You scoff from where you’re laid down on your bed. “I caught him sliding his hands up a girl’s top in the bathroom at that SAE party last week, and when he tried to explain the situation to me he said that he and that girl are just friends. So, by his definition, we’re definitely not friends.”

Mina sighs. “Honestly, y/n, I know he’s charming and he’s been nice to you, but he still has a reputation for being a player.”

You look up at the ceiling, your pillow clutched in your arms for emotional support. “He almost looked like he didn’t even want me there. Like I was an unwelcome interruption. Some sort of nuisance.” You weren’t sure exactly how to read the expression he had on his face from your unexpected visit, but your brain had a habit of settling on the worst.

Mina sits down at her desk, turning her chair to face you. You were fully sulking like a heart-broken teenager and you didn’t understand why. He wasn’t any sort of title to you, and you haven’t even known him for that long. Barely a couple weeks ago, you were still resolved to the fact that he was some sort of mystery. An urban legend around campus that you couldn’t believe you were talking to because people like him didn’t usually talk to people like you.

“Why don’t you just ask him how he feels about you? Put an end to the guessing game. Be like ‘hey, jerk, I know it’s common-place for frat dudes to kiss girls like they’re a dime a dozen. But that’s not gonna fly with me, so fess up on your intentions’. Something like that,” Mina suggests, waving a finger in the air.

You glance at her annoyed. “Were you trying to do an impression of me? I don’t talk like that.”

“You kind of do, love,” she says with a smile on her face.

You look back up at the ceiling. “...I don’t want to have that conversation with him. It’ll hurt my pride. He should’ve been the one asking me what we are now, since he’s the one that kissed me.” You turn to gauge her opinion at your words, but her expression isn’t giving any hints. “Is that petty? I feel like I’m being petty.”

“No, girl, I agree with you,” she says with a sigh, “that’s how it should be, but almost never ends up being the case.” She looks up at the ceiling briefly, a thought forming in her head, before looking down at you with a sly smile.

“What?” you ask, already wearily anticipating her response.

“You want to know how to find out how he feels about you without asking him how he feels about you?” she says like it was some sort of sales pitch.

You turn onto your side and perch yourself up on your elbow, a little too interested. “How?”

She snaps her fingers. “Make him jealous.”

You look at her apprehensively. “Jealous?”

“I mean, that’s the foolproof way to tell how a guy really feels about you. Based on how he reacts when he sees another guy’s tongue shoved down your throat,” she says with a playful shrug.

You flop down on the bed again. “Now that’s petty.” You hug your pillow to your chest again, considering the option. You didn’t even know if Gojo would feel jealous if you tried to make him jealous, it’s possible he wouldn’t even care at all if he saw you with another guy.

“Yes, petty, but so what? We’re seniors in college, now’s our last chance to be petty. After we graduate, we’ve got to be fully functioning members of society,” she sighs, “you only get to be a petty college chick once.”

“How would I make him jealous?” you ask, still dwelling on her suggestion.

“Well, SAE is having that pre-game party tonight, he’s definitely going to be there. It’s your chance,” she says, tapping at her phone to glance at the time.

You hum to yourself. The mature part of you is telling you that it’s a ridiculous idea, but the angel on your shoulder that has weathered the pain of all your confusing feelings as of lately was starting to play devil’s advocate. After a minute’s silence, you cover your face with your hand and groan. “Oh god.”

Mina looks up at you again. “What?”

“I’m gonna do it,” you say, swinging your feet over to the edge of the bed so you’re sitting up, pillow still hugged to your chest as you look at her. “I’m going to go find out how he really feels about me.”

Mina’s smiling at you and hops onto her feet. “Finally. I’ve been waiting for the toxic version of you to make her appearance.”

There was still a couple of hours before the party, so you take a shower and spend some time doing your hair as well as makeup. Wearing your robe, you walk over to your dresser and open it to pull out a pair of jeans when Mina looks over at you and sighs. You send her a look and she makes her way over to you, nudging you to the side with her hip and shoving your jeans back into the drawer.

“You’re not wearing jeans to this party,” she groans, “do I seriously have to teach you everything?” Mina starts shifting through the clothes you had hung up on your hangers, eyes landing on something that was tucked away to the side. She pulls out your black dress, the one that had long, skin tight sleeves with a sweetheart neckline and the short hem that barely fell to the middle of your thighs. She pats at the soft and silky material, pulling on it in an attempt to smooth out one of the wrinkles. “Oh, yes, honey. This will definitely do.”

“It’s wrinkled,” you say in a poor attempt to get out of wearing it.

“Nothing my straightener set at 350 degrees won’t fix,” she says to you with a wink.

It takes Mina three minutes to prepare your dress for you while you anxiously pace around the room, fidgeting to yourself, and she eventually hands it to you to wear. The dress had an A-line silhouette cinched at the waist and the top half was tight, so you decided not to wear a bra with it. Just as you’re about to pull on a pair of biker shorts underneath to cover a bit more since the short fabric was hardly doing much, Mina sends you another disappointed look.

“y/n, please, you’re killing me here,” she says. “To make him jealous, you’ve gotta get other guys to look at you. That might mean being a bit risque with the attire tonight.”

You sulk your shoulders before sighing and tossing your biker shorts back into your closet. You turn around to face the mirror, petting down the fabric of your dress over you and tousling with your hair before gasping a little as you take in your entire appearance. You looked good, and Mina’s playful cat-call from behind you only gave you a greater kick of confidence.

“Love it, cute but sexy at the same time,” she says with a smile. “It’s your turn to be the hottie at the party.”

You two decide to take an Uber to the frat strip, arriving at the host house close to 10pm, and you can already hear the loud chanting and music inside. As you make your way up to the driveway, a gust of wind breezes by and your hands immediately hold down the fabric of your dress in an attempt to not flash the group of people walking behind the two of you. Mina looks over at you with a mischievous smile. You make eye contact with Yuuji at the entrance and he straightens his posture when he sees you and Mina approaching.

“Hello, ladies. I see we’ve switched roles here tonight,” Yuuji says with a tip of his head. “Bombshell friend,” he gestures to you, “and-”

“If you call me a casual tomboy, I can’t guarantee I won’t smack you,” Mina says to him.

Yuuji blinks at her. “Head on in,” he mumbles and you two walk past him.

It hits you as you walk inside that this is the third SAE party that you’ve been to within the past three weeks, and yet the atmosphere still surprises you every time. The music was loud, but at this one, the people chanting was even louder. You notice there were posters and flags with the school’s colors and symbols plastered up and hanging from the staircase, as well as pinned up jerseys on the walls that looked a lot like the ones that the soccer players wear during matches. Oh, and derogatory insults for the opposing school were drawn across all the decorations.

“I’m going to go find Todo,” Mina says to you with excitement and then she’s skipping off into the heart of the party, leaving you alone.

You sigh and fidget with the sleeves of your dress, looking around the party, your heart beating fast in your chest at the prospect that you’ll lock eyes with Gojo but you don’t see him anywhere. As you walk inside, you notice that people are looking at you, and when you make eye contact with some, you notice a lot of them were men, and the attention has you itching for a drink. You quickly make your way into the kitchen and are satisfied when you see the insane amount of options that you can reach for on the island. You grab a White Claw, crack the can open and when you turn around, you jump a little from the sight of a person in front of you.

“Woah, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” the man in front of you says with an apologetic look on his face, and you recognize him as the one that was bouncing the last SAE party that you went to last weekend. “Just going to reach around you to grab…that.” He reaches around you to grab an entire bottle of tequila, his arm brushing against yours and his eyes meet yours with a smile on his face. “I remember you from last week. You’re stunning by the way, what’s your name?”

You tell him and he’s nodding his head slowly, a cheeky look on his face that you’re used to seeing when guys attempt small talk to distract from the other less-than-innocent things they have floating around in their heads. “Nice, I’m Ryota,” he says as he adjusts the snap-back he was wearing on his head, “you, uh, in a sorority?” He leans back against the kitchen counter in front of you and you wonder if grabbing the tequila was just an excuse to talk to you.

You find yourself turning away from him slightly, taking a huge gulp of the White Claw you had in your hands to realize that 8% ALC./VOL was not going to be enough to get you through the night, so you turned to face him again. “No, I’m not. Are you going to drink all that tequila by yourself or are you looking to share?”

He smirks at you. “There’s enough for two.”

You and this man you met literally two minutes ago cheers a few shots, throwing them back, and you notice that he does them almost effortlessly while you’re wincing from the fact that it’s been a long time since you’ve had hard liquor. He’s chuckling at your reactions as your face scrunches up from your third shot and you wave your hand in front of your face from the burn. A few people that walk in and out of the kitchen periodically give the two of you amused looks before walking back out into the loud party nearby.

“Can’t handle your alcohol?” Ryota asks and you sigh, your face already feeling flushed.

“I can, I swear,” you whine.

“Here, wanna?” he says to you as he hands you another shot and then he holds his outstretched arm up. You think he’s trying to cheers, so you tap his shot glass, and then he’s laughing. “No, hold your arm out.” You do as he says and he holds his arm against yours and soon enough he’s taking a step closer to you and you’re interlocking your arms at the elbow. You let out a small gasp from his proximity but his eyes on you are unwavering. He brings his shot glass to his lips and you do the same and then you both tip your heads back, the burn in your throat making you unwind your arm from him and shake your head until you’re leaning back against the island counter and you hear him laugh again in front of you.

“Y/n?” a familiar voice calls out that instantly sobers you up from the four shots of tequila you so valiantly threw back.

The two of you turn your heads to look at the source of the voice, and you see Gojo standing at the entrance of the kitchen. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him and you feel your heart skip a beat in your chest, still so shocked at just how breathtaking he was anytime you saw him. He was holding an empty bottle of alcohol in his hands. You straighten your posture but Ryota still leans against the counter nonchalantly.

“Hey, what’s up dude. Sorry, I was about to circle back with more tequila, but I got caught up in here,” Ryota says and flashes you a smile. “Do you know y/n here?”

You observe Gojo, who wears a tense expression in response to hearing his words, and then he locks eyes with you. A look of surprise swiftly passes across his face as he takes in your appearance, and you feel as if you're practically burning under his gaze. He looks back at Ryota and furrows his brow.

“Yeah, I do,” he mutters and rudely pushes right in between the two of you to make it to the fridge. “Seems like you do, too.”

Ryota seems to pick up on something from Gojo's tone that you don’t, because suddenly he’s standing up straight from the counter and turns to look at you with a contemplative expression. "I'll bring the tequila, or what's left of it I guess, out there," he mentions to Gojo, excusing himself with a brief glance in your direction. As he leaves and turns around the corner, a noticeable weight hangs in the air from how you and Gojo are alone in the kitchen now.

You lean back against the island, reaching for the White Claw you had opened earlier and take another sip. There was a muted buzz lingering in your head, and it felt good, offering a pretty welcome distraction from the fact that Gojo was standing just a few feet away from you, searching for something in the fridge. When he doesn’t seem to find what he’s looking for, he closes the fridge door with a louder-than-normal slam, startling you, and then he turns around to face you.

“Didn’t know you’d be here,” he declares with an edge to his voice, and you’re already rolling your eyes.

“Sorry, pal, should I send you a notarized attendance letter three business days in advance so I don’t end up cock-blocking you in a bathroom again?” you sneer at him.

He leans back against the fridge, facing you as he crosses his arms across his chest. Damn it, don’t stare at the muscles. Don’t do it. “What’s with the attitude?”

“I don’t have an attitude, this is just how I talk to my acquaintances,” you retort as you take another sip of your drink.

He takes a step forward to you, eyes shamelessly dipping to the neckline of your dress and then a little bit further to where the hem grazes your thighs. He places his palm on the counter behind you that you were resting back on and then he’s leaning closer to you, your grip on the can in your hand tightening. He was so close that you can’t think of anything but him. His eyes are on your lips when he speaks. “Are we just acquaintances?”

You narrow your eyes at him, all of your anger from yesterday and earlier today resurfacing at his question as you look up at him straight in the eyes. “Yes, I’m only someone you know, right?”

He’s sighing and you can tell he wants to pull away from you to display his annoyance, but he stays right where he’s at. The hand that was placed on the counter slowly inches towards your waist until his thumb is brushing against the fabric of your dress just underneath your rib cage. He starts to draw slow circles on the material, pressing into your skin occasionally, and you‘re breathless from the contact. “I’m getting the hint that you’re mad at me about something, but it’s hard to care when you’re looking like this.”

You let out a scoff at his words. You’ve spent the past two days suffering from his behavior, and he’s trying to get away with it by practically seducing you. But there was also a part of you that was entirely aroused by how little he seemed to care about your attitude and how much more he seemed to care about the way you were worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. “Looking like what?”

The thumb that was pressing against the clothed skin of your waist retreats and his hand moves back to where it was before, laid flat on the counter next to you, except this time his other arm reaches out for the surface too. And now he’s got you caged-in, looking down at you like he’s trying really hard to not get even closer. “Looking hot as fuck? You’re kind of vain for making me say it out loud.”

You’re effectively dazed out of your goddamn mind at this point, using all the self-control you’ll have for the rest of a lifetime to not grab onto his shirt and pull him into you, all inhibitions lost to the wind. You wouldn’t even care if anyone walked in, you just needed him on you, touching you, kissing you right now. But there’s a tiny part of you that’s still mad at him, and fortunately that tiny part of you pulls through. “If you think trying to seduce me is going to make me not angry anymore, you’re out of luck.”

“I’m not trying to seduce you. You think this is me trying to seduce you? If that’s so, I’m starting to worry you won’t be able to take it,” he whispers that last part so suggestively that you’re weak in the knees from his words. He seemed so different, entirely preoccupied by taking in the sight of every inch of you in front of him that any sense of shame or guilt has left his body, and he’s just looking at you with desire.

“Satoru…” is all you manage to say as you look up at him, your thighs clenching from the arousal of just his presence surrounding you.

You see him close his eyes for a second and exhale before he opens them, his pupils all the way dilated and wild when he looks at you again. “Yeah?” he responds, his head dipping down towards yours slightly, lips just inches from yours, like he’s waiting for your permission to act.

“I…” you start, blinking up at him through your lashes, “...I was having a lot of fun earlier throwing back shots of tequila, and you kind of ruined that. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get back to it.” You place a hand on his chest, his gaze dropping to it in surprise as he watches you push him away from you all the way until his back hits the fridge with a thud.

“What the fuck?” he utters, his face contorted into a confusion you found incredibly comical.

You press up against him, looking up with round eyes and innocence, and you feel him immediately tense up. “Also, very inappropriate to treat someone you barely know like that. I’ll let it slide, though.”

The last thing you see before you turn away from him is his shocked expression, blinking at you with the rest of him practically motionless, and you skip out of the kitchen towards the main party happening around the corner out of his sight.

There were bustling people, a few guys coming up to you to talk to you, but you ignore them until you spot Geto, Nanami, some of the other soccer players, and a bunch of other people huddled around in a circle. You tap on Geto’s shoulder and he turns around to face you.

“Oh! Hey, what’s up, you made it,” Geto greets you, pulling you in for a brief hug which surprises you but was also pleasantly received as you hugged him back with a friendly pat. You could smell the alcohol from him. When he pulls away from you, he’s beaming. “We’re all doing rounds of shots, wanna join?”

“Oh my god, the words I’ve been wanting to hear all night,” you say and you join the circle, a bunch of people cheering as they usher you towards the center and you grab a shot glass from the small round table. A group of maybe fifteen people all raise their shot glasses up in the air, you included, and say some incoherent, non-rehearsed words of luck for the soccer team’s game tomorrow before everyone throws back their shots. You’re squealing and jumping up and down in excitement with Geto and watch as Nanami pretends to throw back his shot before dumping its contents into a red plastic solo cup in his hand instead.

“This is so much fun!” you’re yelling. “Can we do another?”

“Hey! New girl wants to do another,” one of the frat dudes calls out, which is followed by cheers and then messy pouring of tequila all over the table as people extend their shot glasses out to be filled.

Two, three, four, eventually five is your limit until you wander away from the circle, entirely tipsy at this point, over to where people were dancing in front of the DJ’s booth. You bump into some couples that were grinding up on each other, your drunk conscience shamelessly watching their movements, and then accidentally bump into a man so hard that it almost sends you falling back onto the ground but he grabs your arm and keeps you upright. His drink spills a bit out of his hand and onto your dress, making you giggle like a freak.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he’s yelling to you over the music.

“No, I’m sorry,” you yell back, and then you notice he’s wearing a jacket that mimics the patterns of the school’s soccer jersey and has an embroidered player’s number on the chest. It hits you that you’ve seen him on the field before briefly during the practices you’ve been to. “Are you on the soccer team?”

“Yeah, I am,” he says and he tells you his name but the music is way too loud to hear it, and you’re also sort of drunk at this point to register it anyways. But he was cute, and you decided you wanted to dance with him, and dance away is exactly what you do.

When he twirls you around and presses his chest against your back, your line of sight falls straight ahead to where you see Gojo sitting on a couch. Your heart sinks in your chest when you see a girl place a hand on his thigh and lean towards him, practically sitting in his lap, but the look on his face tells you he’s entirely distracted by something else. His eyes search the room for a few seconds, and when they land on you, he stills. When he tilts his head up to peer behind you and sees who you were dancing with, a look of shock crossed his face.

For fucks sake, you wouldn’t flirt with one of his teammates, right?

In your drunk, hazy mind, Mina’s words flash by in your head. The foolproof way to tell how a guy really feels about you is based on how he reacts when he sees another guy’s tongue shoved down your throat.

You turn around, reach up and pull the man you were dancing with down towards you, and you kiss him. The man hesitates, clearly surprised, before moving his lips against yours and just when you feel his hands make their way to your waist, you’re being yanked away from him by the arm. When you turn to look at the perpetrator, you see a very viscerally angry-looking Gojo in front of you and a chill runs down your spine.

Oh god, he looked pissed. If looks could kill, you’d be six feet under right now.

He pulls you by your forearm over to the stairs, and you’re protesting, trying to yank away from his harsh grip, but he doesn’t budge as he takes you up to the second floor and just when you two have made it into the secluded hallway, he pushes you up against the wall, caging you into it with his body.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he scowls at you, leaning in closer, tone so searing it’s enough to set you on fire.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you yell back at him, anger rising within you.

“You’re seriously turning out to be a real fucking pain in the ass,” he hisses the words, his eyes darting across your face before settling on your lips.

“Why do you care? I’m just-” you start but he interrupts you when his lips crash down on yours, taking you by surprise. His kiss was hungry, ravenous, all-consuming. So different from that night when he kissed you for the first time with nothing but tenderness. This one felt like he wanted to take everything from you, leaving nothing behind. His hands find your waist, pulling you closer to him, and your arms slide up past his shoulders, locking behind his neck, and he’s groaning against your mouth before biting at your bottom lip. When you grant him access, he deepens the kiss and the taste of him intoxicates you.

“If you imply that you’re just a stranger to me one more fucking time,” he’s growling against your mouth, “I’ll make sure we get real well acquainted with eachother against this wall right now.” His hands find the flesh underneath your ass and he easily hoists you up, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist. “Ask me if I give a fuck if anyone sees.”

“Oh my god,” you’re gasping, his words hitting you straight to your core, and when you feel his clothed erection pressed against the flimsy cloth of your panties, the self-resolution you once had was all but a distant memory. “Satoru, bathroom, please, not here.”

When you tip your head back, giving him access to your neck and he immediately indulges, peppering kisses down your skin, you roll your hips against his and he squeezes the flesh of your ass hard to reprimand the motion before he takes you into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him, then setting you up on the counter.

His kisses get lower until he’s at your collarbone, and he pulls you forward towards him on the surface to where you’re sitting at the edge and he has his hands digging at the soft flesh of your thighs. You’re squirming in his grasp, gripping onto his shirt for any sort of purchase. When his kissing reaches the neckline of your dress and his finger hooks the fabric, threatening to pull it down, he looks at you.

“Please,” you ask him simply.

He raises an amused eyebrow, pulling down the fabric slowly to just above where your nipples would be set free. “You think you’re in a position to ask for anything from me right now?”

“Oh my fucking god I swear, if you don’t yank my dress down, I’ll choke you,” you threaten him.

“Careful, pretty, I might be into that,” he chides, pressing a kiss to your chest.

You grab the wrist of the hand that was still hooked inside your cleavage, and pull it down harshly so your tits are set free and he leans away from you to take in the sight. He’s mesmerized for a moment, his hand wrapping around your rib cage and thumb poking the softness from the side before it eventually reaches your nipple and starts to play with it. “God, you’re so beautiful. Remind me why we didn’t do this the first night we met?”

When his mouth latches onto your nipple, you tip your head back with a moan and you’re not able to come up with an answer to his question. Because he was right, it was insane that the two of you didn’t. Your hand runs through the short hair of his undercut at the nape of his neck and then grips at the soft strands a bit higher as he sucks and licks at your breasts. You wrap your legs around him tighter, pulling his hips to you, and from the edge of the counter you start to roll your wet panties against the bulge at his front to get relief. He groans against your chest before pulling away.

“You need to relax. Real fuckin’ desperate now compared to when you were pushing me away in the kitchen thirty minutes ago,” he scolds, his lips finding yours again and one of his hands trails up the skin of your thigh. You open your legs even wider for him sweetly and he smiles against your lips, his fingers brushing the skin of your inner thigh and then finally pressing against your clothed core. You instantly jolt, entirely stimulated by the contact, and he pulls away from the kiss to watch you.

“S-Satoru…” you whimper because it’s all you can manage to say, your hips pushing forward, craving more of his touch, but he withdraws from your heat all together and steps away from you, his grip on your hips dragging you forward until you step down from the counter and you’re standing in front of him, looking up like you don’t even know how to breathe unless he talks you through it. He turns you around to where you’re facing the mirror, and it’s the first time you take a look at how messed up he’s gotten you. Your cheeks were flushed, lips swollen, eyes a little teary from the lust consuming you. Your tits that appeared plush and perked by the haphazard way the neckline of your dress was tucked underneath them were glistening with his saliva and you felt like you were about to go insane at the sight. You take a look at his face in the reflection, and he too looked like he was about to go insane at the sight.

“Bend over the counter,” he demands with a rough voice, but you don’t have much of a choice since he’s pushing down on your back anyways. You’ve risen up onto your tiptoes to accommodate the position and he lazily flips the fabric of your dress up over your ass before his hands hook into the side of your panties at your hips, pulling them down, and you feel the fabric practically peel off of you from how wet you were. And then he was on his knees behind you.

“Fuck, why didn’t we do this the first night we met?” he laments, marveling at the sight of you bent over for him.

“You already asked that question,” you mumble.

“Cause it still doesn’t make any fucking sense to me,” he sighs and then he drags his index finger into your folds, from your entrance that was sopping wet all the way down to your clit. You’re wiggling, pushing your hips out towards him, and you hear him let out a low, guttural sound in his chest at the sight. His finger experimentally pushes into you and you’re gasping, hand slamming against the mirror.

“You’re so sensitive. Need a second?” he asks like he’s genuinely looking out for you, and yet he doesn’t wait before pushing another finger into you regardless.

“Mhh..n-no, just need your tongue,” you say through a shaky breath, panting from where you were on the counter.

He groans at your request and pulls his fingers out of you, instantly making you whine, before giving you a different reason to whine when his tongue presses against your clit.

Your mind was going insane, still registering the shock that this was happening as you moaned from the feeling of his tongue on you, mouth latching on and sucking harshly at your sensitive core that has you writhing and grasping onto anything you could find for purchase. The man that was making a mess at the most intimate part of you right now seemed so different from that kind man last week that pressed that chaste kiss to your lips. This was like you had just summoned the devil and he was on his knees behind you.

You make a mental note to never doubt any of Mina’s advice ever again.

When his hungry lapping at your clit turns into slow, lazy licks against your folds, you whimper above him and attempt to grind against his mouth so his tongue is where you want it. “Mm…p-please, stop teasing, I wanna cum.”

He pulls his mouth from you and you feel how slick he’s made you, nothing but a mess of your arousal and his spit, before he pushes two fingers inside you and stretches you out inside with them. “But do you deserve to cum, is the question, sweetheart,” he drawls, curling his fingers inside and pressing on that spot that had your walls fluttering around him and building that tight knot in your lower tummy.

“Yes, I do, fuck,” you’re moaning as he slowly starts to pump his fingers in and out of you, “less talking, more licking my clit.”

His other hand finds your clit, fingers beginning to rub agonizingly slow circles, and you can feel the texture of his calluses across every single nerve ending of the aching bud. “What was that, baby? You want me to be stingy with my tongue? Alright, whatever you say, princess,” he sighs it like he has no choice but to be a fucking dick right now.

“No, oh my god, don’t be stingy with your tongue,” you cry out, your cheek pressing up against the mirror from the sheer desperation of wanting a release, “I’ll kill you.”

“Can’t make you cum if I’m dead,” he purrs. “God, your pussy’s going crazy right now, clenching around my fingers like it’s got a mind of its own. Can’t wait to fuck you,” he’s groaning, “so sweet, so tight, so wet. Exactly how I imagined it.”

“Y-You’ve imagined this?” you whimper to him when he starts to fully fuck you with his fingers.

“So many fucking times,” he grumbles, his other hand now gripping your ass and thumb spreading you more open. You blush from how exposed you felt to him, but the noises he was making from the deepest part within his chest made you realize he was a freak for it. He pulls his fingers out of you and then uses both hands to spread your folds apart as he laps at the wetness that was practically dripping from your entrance. “What your world would be like if this was your little ‘terms and conditions’ favor instead.”

His tongue latches onto your clit again and your knees almost buckle. “M-Make me cum and maybe I’ll finally regret the fact that it wasn’t,” you say to him, desperate to coax something feral from him that finally grants you release of the tension building at your core. You’re unable to stay still, squirming and squealing above him, so hopelessly at his mercy.

“Say you’ll never kiss another guy except me ever again,” you hear him grumble with his face still buried in your cunt.

“w-what…” you say, exhaling incredulously, “S-Satoru…you don’t make any sense…we’re not even dat-”

“Say it, and I’ll let you cum,” he tells you simply, pulling his mouth from you again just when you felt like you were about to topple over and you’re about ready to kick him in the face at this point. You try to look over your shoulder to read his facial expression but when his fingers take their position over your clit and he starts to draw stars, you quickly give up and rest your forehead on the mirror. Oh god, this was good, if he just kept going-

As if he could read your mind, he pulls his fingers from your clit entirely, leaving your core agonizingly empty from any part of his touch, and it makes you gasp. You’ve never felt more betrayed in your life.

“Oh my god, okay okay okay!” you’re screaming, sticking your ass out to him and he’s chuckling at the sight. “I’ll never kiss another guy again! Fucking hell, Satoru, please, just make me cum,” you beg, whimpering and almost crying, your thighs twitching from the urge to clench together for some form of relief in his absence.

He seems satisfied by your begging, because he immediately grabs your ass with both hands, one of his thumbs pushing shallowly into your drenched entrance, and then his mouth finds your clit again. You close your eyes shut, and you could feel that you were just seconds away from cumming as he simultaneously sucks and licks relentlessly on the sensitive bundle of nerves. It’s when he groans against your center with such a primal frequency, sending shockwaves of vibrations to your center and throughout your entire body, that you fall apart for him and you come undone so violently that your knees entirely give out, and you’re screaming his name. He wraps an arm around your legs to keep you from falling as you squirm on the counter, your walls pulsing and clenching, hips twitching, and then you’re finally calming down. You lay blissfully on the surface, head down, breathing heavily with soft, remnant whimpers leaving your lips.

You hear Gojo let out a short exhale from behind you that almost sounds like he’s in disbelief. When you turn slightly to look back at him, you see he’s palming himself through his pants and looking directly at your cunt. “You’re dripping onto the floor, fuck.” He catches a drop of slick, clear arousal as it falls from your entrance, immediately bringing it to his tongue and licking it off his finger before standing up.

You barely manage to push your upper body up so that you’re standing, shaking arms working overtime to hold yourself up, and he comes up behind you to press his chest against your back, looking at you in the mirror. He was breathing heavily too, his mouth near your ear and his eyes lidded with lust. You reach your arm up and behind him to grab at the soft tufts of hair at the back of his head, your back arching from the motion, and he groans as he pushes his clothed erection against your ass, head dropping close to your shoulder from the pleasure and he presses a kiss to your skin. The image in front of you, with his broad shoulders and frame completely engulfing yours whole, your hips slightly rocking forwards and pushing against the counter from his indulgent grinding behind you, his hand reaching up to pinch and play with your nipple, it was all so erotic that you were already aching for more. He effectively finger-fucked, licked, and sucked the anger out of you, and that was a dangerous fact.

His fingers grazed up the side of your waist that the fabric of your dress still clung tightly to, and he loosely held onto you, sighing against the back of your neck which sent shivers down your spine. His eyes meet yours in the mirror. “So pretty like this. Turn around and face me, baby, reflection’s not enough,” he says to you and you do as he says, twirling around. His eyes take in the sight of you, his thumb coming up to press at the soft flesh of your breast and you can see it in his eyes that he was worshipping you.

You finally take in the entire image of his appearance. His chest was heaving, hair disheveled, shirt was wrinkled at the front from when you were grabbing onto it earlier. There’s a crease to his brow when he looks at you, and you realize that this is not the first time you’ve seen him look exactly like this in a party bathroom. Except the last time, it was from reasons other than your own.

And then there’s that sinking feeling in your chest again.

Just when you observe that spark of intense lust in his eyes, pupils dilated like wild, see it flash through his mind that he thinks he’s about to get lucky with you tonight, you find yourself pushing him away from you for the second time tonight. You’ve got him with his back pressed up against the wall while he looks down at you with confusion, and this time there’s desperation and panic there too.

You look up at him with a discerning softness, and all those tender feelings you’ve been experiencing for the past week come crashing down on you all at once, but your heart aches with their memory. When his eyes study your face, there’s a brief second where he’s surprised to see the way you’re looking at him, and his jaw clenches slightly.

“Thanks, I really needed this,” you whisper to him, hand patting his chest reassuringly as you try to keep your composure in front of him despite the hollow feeling in your chest, “gave me some clarity. Don’t follow me.” And then you step away from him, pull your panties back up into place, adjust the neckline of your dress up over to cover your chest, then you make your way to exit.

“What? Wait-” he scrambles, sounding stunned from behind you as you open the bathroom door, walk right out into the hallway and close the door behind you, not all the way but just enough so you were out of his line of sight.

You sigh to yourself for a second as you step to the side, fixing at your hair, then take a deep breath as you walk down the hall. It registers in your mind that he listens, never following after you.

a/n. reader is soooo messy for doing this to him right before his big game lol i'm like scared for her even though i'm literally the author hahha. i hope to see you in the next one! much love

➸ take me to chapter seven!

tag list: @who-can-touch-my-boob @getitsatoru @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @prince-wyiilder @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice (decided to tag all interacts too just so it's not missed if that's ok! love you all sm)

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pleasingforharry · 8 months

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Hi!! Is there any chance I can request a oneshot with actor y/n x harry, where Harry is y/n's plus one to her new movie premiere which she stars in as a romantic lead with another famous actor but he gets jealous and overprotective as he has to sit there and watch the steamy and sex scenes with his girlfriend and her costar he has a keen dislike for, and has to try not explode watching that, then going to the after party watching the actor trying to flirt and share small touches (holding her waist to walk past etc) then when harry and y/n get back to their hotel room he shows her just how much he wants and loves her, to the point he wants that actor to hear her scream harrys name a few doors down

this is so jahshdkrkbwaksocjwnw

you know my other bae andrew garfield had to make an appearance ;)

actress!yn

WORD COUNT: 17.9k words... whoa sorry.

WARNINGS: Uh... SMUT. and yeah smut :)

You and your boyfriend, Harry, are in your hotel room, changing quickly for the premiere of your new movie, Hot Shot. It's been a long few months filming this, especially because you just finished advertising The Good and Bad Days, which you starred in with your boyfriend.

“Harry, can you zip me up, please?" You ask him as you stand at the wide, full-length mirror. Your body is showered, shaved, and glowing—soon to be sucked into your tight dress. You and your stylist wanted to make a statement with your two outfits; for the premiere and for the afterparty. Hours were spent trying dresses on, gagging at some, staring blankly at some, struggling with some, falling in love with some, debating with some.

But you finally have the two that will make you feel beautiful, sexy, and confident on your day. You're feeling great about tonight.

Harry emerges from the hotel bathroom while clearing his throat, hair finally tamed.

Only twenty minutes ago were you two completely naked and handling some serious sexual tension after seeing each other in your premiere attires. This is the second time you're putting on this dress, thanks to Harry.

"Of course, I can, baby," Harry says, gladly slipping behind you to admire the tan on your back. As Hot Shot was filmed in Florida, you were under the beaming sun for months, and Harry has never been so attracted to a simple tan.

He takes his time leading the zipper up your back. Your eyes shift to his through the mirror, and you both hold a long stare. It's filled with another potential round of tension.

Harry's eyebrow cocks up. Yours does too, in a tease. "One more round?" He speaks suggestively. Your hand reaches back to hit him on the forehead. It's ignored, though, as he continues to stare with hope.

Your boyfriend is a horny, horny man when it comes to you.

"Absolutely not. I can't be late to my own premiere," You scoff at him with an apparent look through the mirror.

"Sure you can," Harry shrugs, finishing the zipper, before wrapping his arms around you from behind. He presses a soft kiss to the crook of your neck. "Taking care of my beautiful girlfriend is worth the tardiness. Make her scream my name and tug on my hair because she just loves when my tongue plays with her pretty, pink clit so good, hmm? When it’s all swollen and sensitive. Spread her legs wide so she's all open for me. Her come sticking to her thighs that I'll lick up. How's that sound?" His mind seems stuck in a daydream as he trails his mouth to your ear. His hot breath shoots instant shivers down your neck.

You bite your lip and let your head fall back onto his shoulder. Your dress is slim, thin, innocent in pink but also seductive and sneaky enough to replicate your character in your film. Harry's hands can't help but wander down your sides and land on your hips. He unexpectedly bumps his thickened pants against your ass with a smirk.

"Trust me, we can be late, baby."

You sigh and slither around in his hold—facing him correctly. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you lean forward to kiss him. He eagerly waits to envelope your lips, holding you tighter at the hip.

"Just think—“ you whisper against his mouth—nude lipstick plumping your lips, "as soon as the afterparty is over, we'll have hours to do whatever we want. You can have me in any way, and I can take you from anywhere, for the rest of the night." If Harry wasn't already throbbing in his tight, dress pants, he is now.

"I can't wait," he responds breathlessly, before putting himself out of his misery and kissing you properly. He holds you loosely as his hands squeeze at every curve pulsing your body shape. He loves everything about you. And you're all his. But not for the whole day.

You pull back from the kiss and smile. "Ready, plus one?" You wink.

He laughs, "This is weird. Now I have to stand aside while you take pictures, huh?" You shrug.

"We’re too sexy-looking for the cameras to handle. It's for their own good," You joke. Harry grins, loving your voice, your humor, your smile. You. And he knows it's gonna be a long premiere with him having to share you with the world.

"Alright, let's go before I throw you on this bed. Again," Harry teases—one last kiss for good luck.

"Y/N!"

"Y/N, over here!"

"Y/N, who are you wearing?"

"Y/N, you look amazing, darling. Look here!"

"Y/N, what do you think about—“

Your name is being yelled out in all directions as soon as you step out of your car, finally arriving at the Hot Shot premiere. Your hand hovers over your eyes as you wait for Harry to round his side. He finds his arm around your waist and whispers, "Ready, superstar?"

"More than ever, rockstar," You say back, before letting him and your crew bodyguard you to the carpet. Tabloids have been waiting hours to see what you'll show up in. News channels have been pushing each other around in hopes to be the first to talk to you. Your fans have been nail-biting anxious to see how the premiere will treat you.

Today is going to be interesting, you think to yourself as you squeeze closer to your comfort person, Harry.

Hot Shot is your movie about a trained assassin, your character, who is being hunted down and chased by an ex-police officer, played by your co-star, Andrew Garfield. It involves a lot of action and sex scenes as the two characters have a big love-hate relationship.

This movie is different from what you've done before, and you're proud that it's finally out and people are going to see your hard work. That's what you tell the interviewers that stop you every few heeled steps.

Harry stands with your manager, waiting and watching patiently as you do your thing. A year ago when you two were at the premiere for your movie, The Good and Bad Days, Harry was by your side answering questions with you. But not anymore. As much as Harry loved to shoot the film and have his actor era with you, he missed touring and making music. That's why he's fine watching you instead of joining you.

"And yeah, I was a little nervous during—“

Suddenly, a heap of screams come from the fans at the barricades. You look over your shoulder at Harry, who simply shrugs. His height helps him slightly see over the crowds of people. But then his eyes focus on the man stepping out of his car with that award-winning smile.

Andrew Garfield.

You continue to answer questions, wanting to get all of your interviews out the way. And as everyone is asking the same thing, it's getting a little boring.

Andrew starts walking down the carpet, waving at fans, before quickly splitting away from his crew to take pictures with them. Harry watches from afar, his hands fisting at the one person he knows he’s going to have to deal with all night. Your main co-star.

As the two leads in the film, Harry knew, just like during promo season for The Good and Bad Days, you and Andrew would be together a lot. And you guys were. Three weeks of promo meant three weeks of Harry watching his girlfriend obliviously be flirted with.

You finish another interview, before your manager snatches you away. You thank them tremendously, before searching for your boyfriend. And he's standing patiently off to the side, making sure he's not drawing any attention. As famous as you were, Harry is also a popular face. And he wants to make sure he's not affecting your moment in any way.

"Okay, me and you. Pictures," you say as you approach Harry. He immediately finds his hand around your waist, pulling you into his chest. And you can feel the flashes of cameras on your back.

"Yeah, I'm ready," he nods while fixing your hair that got messed up from the slight pick up of wind.

Your manager stands next to you guys, explaining the next few steps. But it's nothing new to you two.

"So then, after this, Y/N, you'll come back for pictures with Andrew, and then the whole cast, okay?" Your manager says. You nod in understanding, missing the slight pout casting on Harry's face. He ghosts his eyes from you to find Andrew in the same position you were just in; answering questions for different news channels.

But as your back is to everyone and you're solely facing Harry—the only person you want to look at—you don't see how Andrew turns sideways to motion the premiere set as he answers a question. His eyes absentmindedly move to you and Harry, and the warm smile he had on forms into a devilish grin for a split second. He looks directly at Harry, before shifting to the backside of you. And the examination he gives you in your thin dress has Harry sidestepping so only he is in Andrew's line of vision.

"Hey, you okay?" You ask while tapping Harry's chest. Your makeup crew finishes their touch-up your face and disperses, allowing your full attention to be on Harry and his shift of mood. But he simply smiles at you in reassurance.

"Yeah, of course. You're just making it really hard to not get a dent in my pants," he leans forward to whisper in your ear. Harry enjoys the laugh and swat to his shoulder that you give him. And he doesn't miss the glare he gets from Andrew.

Your manager holds onto your arm to get your attention. "Alright, the carpet is ready for you two. Good?" They ask. You puff out a breath and slip your hand into Harry's. He kisses your cheek gently.

"You look gorgeous, baby. I'm kinda upset all these people are going to have pictures of you on their cameras,” Harry makes a joke, simply to see that smile.

Your head tilts back to laugh, stretching the cleavage that tips over the neckline of your dress. When you look back at Harry, he's unabashedly staring at them. You swat him again.

"Pervert," you mutter while he snickers. "Come on, boyfriend. Let's look hot for the cameras, once again." Harry nods, staying right by your side. And the slight shift of Andrew's jaw ticks as he watches, already over doing interviews.

You and Harry look amazing—you're a worldwide loved couple. And it shows as he swiftly stands in front of you, blocking the cameras, when you have a slight wardrobe malfunction with your dress.

"Fuck," you panic under your breath. Your hands shake as they tug up the neckline. Harry holds your waist, trapping you between himself and the backsplash.

"I got you, baby. No one can see, you're so small under me," He teases. You look up at him and copy the suggestive smirk on his face. "I love when you're under me."

"I'm sure you do, pervert." He earns a flick to his forehead. The cameras do catch that, and they aww at the intimacy of their favorite celebrity couple.

You two do multiple rounds of pictures—alone and together—taking a few steps to the side to get to your next checkpoint. Harry is holding you by the waist, but you take the attention from him with your gorgeous dress and perfectly posed face. Your eyes are thin and seductive from your eyeliner, but your dress screams sweet and innocent. The cameras can’t get enough of you.

After your fifth round, you two finally make it to the end, but only for Harry. You still have to go back and take pictures with Andrew and the rest of your cast.

"Alright, I'll be around, baby," Harry says as he helps you fix your hair again. You nod and pucker your lips. "Don't mind if I do."

Flash!

"They just love us, huh?" You laugh with your tongue out.

Before Harry can response, your name is being called. You look over your shoulder and there awaits Andrew with a friendly wave. You light up, returning the gesture to the best friend you’ve made over the last few months.

"Okay, bye, baby," You send Harry off without looking back and playfully skipping over to Andrew. He lifts his eyes to Harry and waves. The façade Andrew is holding up in front of you is infuriating Harry, but as you look back to see if he responded to Andrew's gesture, he sighs and sucks it up with a wave back.

Even though there are many, many cast members, people are only interested in you and Andrew. The chemistry between you two is sterotypical and front cover worthy. But you don’t see it as that serious. It just feel as if you're hanging out with your best friend—nothing more than that.

Harry is watching with your manager, and he can't hide the frown on his face. He hates this. He hates jealously.

The way Andrew holds you securely as you both smile at the camera is boiling his insides. The way Andrew leans down to whisper in your ear, and the way the smile that breaks out on your face makes the camera flashes spark quicker is hurting Harry's heart. He wants to be the only one who can make you do that. But he stays calm because every time your eyes find him, the look of pure love you give him is enough to keep him at bay.

Then it's time for the group pictures of the cast, and Harry's shoulders can relax because you and Andrew aren't alone. But you are together. And Andrew makes sure of that. He squeezes his thin body around everyone to find a space next to you. But it looks natural for him to do because you two are the leads in the movie. Of course, you two should stand together.

"This dress looks marvelous on you, Y/N," Andrew compliments you once again as the whole cast stands together for more pictures. You bump hips with him and smile.

"Thanks, but I think you'd look much better in this than me," you joke. Andrew uses that as an excuse to stare longly at your dress—Harry watches annoyedly—before nodding.

"Oh, yeah, for sure, darling." Oh, the accent. You can't help but shyly look away, especially from the pet name.

Your co-star on your other side holds your hand and squeezes it for your attention. You look away from Andrew to focus on them, laughing at an inside joke that the paparazzi zoom in on to take a picture of.

You are the star point of the red carpet.

They finally allow you to break off as it’s now time to watch the movie. Andrew continues to hold onto your waist as you both walk side by side to your crew.

"Yeah, took me two hours to get my hair to stay this way," He says.

"Wait, so you didn’t just wake up and your hair simply looked this good? I thought you were Andrew Garfield or something," You tease, reaching up to softly pat his head.

"Ha ha, Y/N," he rolls his eyes. You giggle and shy away from his eye contact by staring straight. But that makes you look at your boyfriend with his hands deep in his dress pants. You could moan from how hot he looks. Especially with that unapproachable expression etched on his face.

You glance up at Andrew and pat his back, where your hand is resting. “You remember Harry, right?" You ask as you approach your melancholy boyfriend. The only reason he perks up is simply because of you being close to him.

Andrew nods with his lips smirking innocently at Harry. His arm stays around you as his other sticks his hand out. "Long time, no see, Harry," he laughs, and so do you.

Harry smiles thinnly and takes Andrew's hand. But his eyes are trained on the arm that’s around your waist. "Yes," he slurs.

"How are you feeling, baby?" You ask, releasing yourself from Andrew to step into Harry’s space. Your hands rub up his arms, before they lay on his chest and rise. You stop when you're caressing his jaw.

Harry basks in the affection, especially because it's in front of Andrew, and all he can do is watch.

"I'm good. Ready to watch the movie," he replies, pushing hair behind your ears. Andrew grows a smile at that.

"Me too. Can't wait for you to see Y/N in it. She did amazing," he revels you.

You roll you eyes and reach to swat Andrew’s chest. Harry tick his jaw in jealously—you usually only do that to him. "He's just talking about himself but doesn't want to admit it," you say to Harry with a laugh. He only does it back because of how beautiful you are. His hands hold your waist loosely.

"No, Harry, you'll see," Andrew pushes again, and solely winks at him.

You scoff and grab Harry's arm before stepping away in search for your manager. "I'll see you in the theater, And and Drew," You wave to depart.

He laughs heartily, much more than you expect. "I'll get us a popcorn to share," he says, which you gasp at.

"A large?"

"Of course," he answers with raised shoulders, as if it's obvious. You mouth a loud cheer. Andrew can't wipe the whipped smile off his face. He sighs softly, finally switching his attention to the grumpy man your holding by his thick arm. "See you later, Harry," he calls out as you drag your boyfriend away. Harry only seesaws his eyes on Andrew, before turning away to let you lead him.

Harry totally forgot that the cast sits together. And of course, you're going to be next to Andrew. Great.

When you find your manager, they break down how the theater part of the premiere is going to work. While you listen, you stand in front of Harry and back yourself into him. He quietly wraps his arms around your front and traces your stomach. Your hands land on his, letting them follow whatever trail he's making.

"I wish we were sitting together," you say with your head facing the side—for Harry to look at.

"I do too, baby," he sighs against your cheek, meaning it more than ever.

"But I do more," you pout, and he laughs, kissing at your jaw. You're hidden in a corner from the red carpet. No one is around but your manager and your crew as they decompress. "I want to talk to you during the film and tell you all the secrets and how I did my stunts and stuff."

"I'll hear about it later, yeah?" He tries to sound cheery, just for your sake, and you nod sadly. Harry’s hands go rogue, traveling to your breasts that are begging to either be pushed in or out of the neckline.

You stay quiet with your lips parted, looking down at your boyfriend's hands. He turns you two around so you're facing a wall—him blocking you from everyone's eyes.

He kisses at your jaw again, sneakily sucking for a quick second before you can react. "You look so fucking beautiful, baby," Harry says, making you blush and mumble a thank you. "Best person dressed today. You stood out so much in those group pictures." His hands softly grope your breasts, and you peep out the quietest moan.

"Yeah?" It sounds like a whimper.

"Mhmm. And I get to call that beautiful woman mine," he smirks against your ear. The dent in his pants has made a return as it pushes into your ass. "Am I wrong, baby?" You quickly shake your head.

"Again," You gasp, before biting your lip. Harry chuckles and squeezes at your breasts while pushing his hips into you. He traces a finger at the spot where he guesses your nipple is. And he isn't wrong. Your back arches off of him, making it a little obvious that something is going on in this corner.

So, Harry lets go and turns you around. "Soon, my perfect girl," He promises against your lips before capturing them in a passionate kiss. You are breathless when he pulls away and smirks down at you. He finds your throat to hold and quickly squeeze the sides of before dropping his hand just as fast.

He's trying to rile you up.

"Is this punishment for not being seated with you?" You ask in a giggle. Harry shrugs and holds you right beside your breasts. His nails scratch at your shoulder blades.

"If I'm going to have to suffer, so will you," His tone is evident. You pucker out your bottom lip in a pout, and Harry easily kisses it. "Have fun, my love.” With a solid wink, he steps back and turns away. He follows one of your crew members, who leads him inside the building.

You stand there and watch him, breathless and unsatisfied. And as if he knows, Harry looks over at you and grins, before he disappears.

"Ready, Y/N?" Your manager gets your attention. You adjust your dress and nod. "Good, let's go inside and find your seat."

You immediately earn loud applaud as you enter the theater. The room is pointing their attention to you as you wave, walking up the aisle to your seat. While doing so, you search for your boyfriend. One, to scowl at him, and two, because you want to be able to watch his reactions during certain scenes.

As you're trying to discreetly find him because everyone is still staring, Andrew waves at you. You give up looking for Harry, for now, and sit down by your friend.

His smile is wide as he motions to your seat. "For you, m'lady," he bows slightly.

"Thank you, Andrew," You laugh and fix your dress as you sit. "Excited?" You ask, before your teeth sink into your lip. Andrew watches while nodding.

"Very. My friends are here," he says, pointing up higher in the theater. A group of people notice you two staring and wave.

"Hi," You mouth.

"Where's Harry?" Andrew asks. You frown with a shrug.

"I have no idea. But I want to find him before the lights dim," You speak more to yourself.

Andrew nods in agreement. "Well, I made sure to get us that popcorn," He averts your attention, leaning down to grab something between his legs. It's a big bowl of popcorn. "Extra butter," he winks.

"You know me so well," You sarcastically sigh, resting your head on his shoulder—pretending to be swooned.

"I'll be honest, I was already going to get extra butter. I just wanted to see how you'd react. That solely was going to make or break our friendship." Your head throws back to laugh as you swat at his chest.

And Harry sees it all as he sits higher than you and on the other side of the theater. He has a perfect view of you and Andrew, especially when you guys lean over to talk.

This is going to be a long movie.

When you told Harry about the dynamic between your character and Andrew's, he was fine with it, at first. You're an actress—you act out mature scenes all the time. But as he sits and watches you ride Andrew's lap, your moans taking over the room, Harry can't help but feel a level of rage over everyone watching this.

"I hate you so much," Your character, Anna, growls but it comes out as a moan. She holds Andrew's character, Maddy—yes his name is Maddy—by his shoulder. The frame shows your collarbones and up, sometimes wandering lower where your breasts, that Harry groped earlier, show.

"It's mutual," Maddy snaps back, before his jaw drops agape. Anna starts to jump, her head facing up to display the thin layer of sweat on her neck. Harry runs his tongue along his teeth. "You've made my life hell,” Maddy mutters with his lips against her chin. Anna suddenly smirks, and the camera angle changes, showing a front shot of her face looking down at Maddy. She looks sexy and dominant. Harry has to shift in his chair as he stares mesmerized by you.

Anna leans down so she almost kisses Maddy. "If you don't make me come in the next minute, you'll be wishing you were in hell than the place I'll send you." Her voice is raspy and it's demanding. Harry's favorite side of you. The camera shows Maddy, and the emotions masking his face as he takes in her words.

Harry uses that second to dart his eyes to you and Andrew. He's leant over his chair to whisper to you. He points to the screen and whatever he says makes you nod. What are you guys taking about? What happened when you guys were filming this scene?

When Harry turns back to the movie, Maddy smirks widely and flips them to missionary, lifting Anna's legs to lean against his chest. "You know what? I need to fuck this absolutely irritating attitude out of you. That's the issue." Then it shows Anna on her back—you looking so fucking sexy to Harry—as she pops an eyebrow up.

"You can try, officer."

Harry has to cast his eyes down to ignore the jealousy of someone else taking you like that—even though it obviously didn't actually happen. But he listens to your voice as you bobble out stuttered moans. He possessively wants to imagine that your sounds are only for him.

When the scene is finished and Harry can look up, he glances at you and Andrew. But he almost flinches in his seat when he sees Andrew already looking back at him. He smiles softly, motioning his head to the screen. Harry fists his hand, planting them on his thigh. This fucking guy.

Andrew gives Harry only a second more of his attention, before turning away. He holds out the bowl for you, which you gladly steal some popcorn from. You're fixated on the scene, not even knowing about the exchange. Or that your boyfriend is literally fuming in his seat.

So, the movie had multiple sex scenes. Ha, who knew?

Harry pouts and sighs and groans and adjusts and looks away and peeks an eye and curses and shifts and bites his lip and groans again. He does a lot while stuck in his seat, watching you and Andrew, and your characters on screen, from afar.

The movie finally ends with Anna smirking smugly at Maddy with a knife in her hand. She twirls it recklessly as she hums. The audience watches, waiting to see what her next move is. But Anna simply mouths symbolic words to Maddy before there is a loud sound of sliced skin. The audience gasps in unison as the screen goes black for a while before turning back on for credits.

The room erupts into cheers, most of them pointed at you and Andrew, while the lights flick back on. Andrew smiles over at you and pulls you in for a side hug.

"Congrats on an excellent movie, Miss L/N," Andrew jokes under his breath.

"And same to you, Mr. Garfield," You nod. "Maybe one day we'll see each other again for another movie."

"Oh, you're not getting rid of me. You're my bestie now." You bellow out a laugh, but quickly cover it when you realize how loud that was. Andrew leans down in his seat to laugh like you guys just got caught talking in class.

You stand up from your seat and look around for Harry. This time, he makes sure to get your eyes on him. He waves coolly but enough to catch your stare. And his heart jumps when a big grin breaks out on your face.

You mouth, "What did you think?" The only opinion that matters in this room to you. Harry nods and blinks ten fingers before doing it again to show ten out of ten.

You do a little dance in your spot, making him laugh. He casts his eyes to Andrew, who's solely watching you and your dancing. He says something to you that makes you stop and roll your eyes.

Harry is quick to join the line of people exiting the theater. He finds your manager and stands with them, knowing you'll eventually be here after getting the praise you deserve for the movie.

Despite hating your co-star, Harry loved the movie and everyone in it. You did amazing. But Harry already expected that. You did your own stunts and executed them flawlessly. He can't wait to show how proud he is of you.

And how predatory he is. He already knows exactly what's going to happen when he gets you back in your hotel room.

You're slow to leave the theater because of the people stopping you every two seconds. They aren't even waiting until you're out the theater. You have a whole afterparty to mingle and get praised, but people want to do it now.

But thanks to Andrew and his charisma, he helps maneuver you away from the crowds politely and to your crew.

"Thanks, Andrew," You say, turning to hug him because you know this is where you part. "You're a great movie partner. Especially with sharing popcorn."

Andrew snorts against your neck. "Thanks, Y/N. It was an honor." He pulls back, his height showing off as he stands straight. "See you at the afterparty?"

You nod and shimmy a little. "You know it!" He smiles as you turn and saunter off.

Harry watches, leaning his shoulder against the wall as you approach your crew. You first hug your manager and accept their praise and kisses.

"That movie was amazing. You were amazing," they say as you both pull away. Your smile is shy and thankful, still not comfortable with compliments. "Think you still got something in you to survive the afterparty?" Their eyebrows raise.

You giggle and nod. "Definitely. I need something to drink."

"Alright, honey. I'll see you then, okay?" You nod and thank them.

Your manager steps away, allowing Harry to have you all to himself. Your eyes meet his, and your teeth sink into your lip as you contemplate leaping into his arms. He chuckles softly as you take wide steps to close your distance.

"Hi, baby," He says as you wrap your arms around his neck and instantly engulf him in a hard kiss. Harry sighs within it—all the tension that was building inside of him whisking away.

You speak against his lips. "I didn't see you during the movie. I'm sorry.” Harry puckers so he slightly kisses you.

"I was kinda far so it's alright. But I saw you," He answers, grabbing at you everywhere to make up for the time you were out of reach and in Andrew's. Speaking of him, as you have your back to the commotion of people, only Harry can see Andrew in the crowd. He talks to who he assumes is his manager, but his gaze is pointed to you and Harry. Well, specifically you. But his eyes do glance at Harry when he realizes he's staring back.

"Damn, that's no fair. I wanted to see you squirm at that scene," you giggle, tugging on Harry's neck to keep him close as he tries to look somewhere else.

After not seeing Harry throughout the movie and watching those scenes without him, you are needy. And horny. You press your front against Harry's, searching for the dent that still hasn't been taken care of.

Harry knows what his girlfriend is doing and lifts an eyebrow at you—no type of interest in Andrew anymore. Only in the woman who's looking up at him with the same seductive eyes as her character.

"Well, I can assure you, I was definitely squirming. The poor lady beside me was going to get an eyeful if she looked down at my lap," Harry says, swiftly swatting at your backside, close to your ass.

Your smile widens. "Really? You liked it?"

"Of course, I did, baby. I loved it."

You sigh in his arms and Harry frowns in confusion. "I wasn't sure if you were going to enjoy it because of Andrew, you know?" Your voice is soft. Harry takes a few steps back, leading you guys into the shadows.

"I mean, no boyfriend wants to see another man have his girlfriend like that, but it's the world of acting," Harry shrugs. "And I wasn't focused on him, I was completely transfixed by you." He watches your eyes grow with a slight shimmer.

"Okay, good," you sigh in relief, before hiding yourself in his neck as you hug him. "I love you."

"And I love you, beautiful," Harry replies, eyes on the crowd in front of him. No one is paying attention to the couple as they are all trying to find their ride home. Andrew even gave up when he saw how focused you were on Harry. He knew he wasn't going to get your attention at all. He'd just have to wait until the afterparty—patience.

Harry leans down to stuff his nose into your soft skin, sprits with honey and vanilla perfume. "Ready to head back to the hotel?" You nod, slowly pulling away. You look over your shoulder at the crowd. Harry finds your hand to hold and lifts it to his lips. "Good, come on."

In the car, Harry can't help but smirk at your neediness. It's his favorite thing about you. Your lips continue to grab his every few seconds, intoxicated by his taste. And the sound he makes when you try to pull away for a breath. His big hands are groping every spot they land on, and as the partition is up, you don't mind letting out your soft whines.

When you two arrive at your hotel, Harry helps you to the entrance as numerous flashes of cameras attack you. He tells you to cover your eyes while you fist his dress shirt. Now that the sky is dark, the flashes are more prominent, and they sting. You'll never be used to this.

You two make it inside, and the loud calls of your name ringing in your ears die down. "Are you okay, baby?" Harry asks you while walking to the elevator. His arms swarm your body, even though you're safe in the building. Your head continues to hide in his chest, now enjoying his warmth. "No one is around. It's just us."

"The best news I could ever hear," you smile sincerely, looking up at him. Harry chuckles and swiftly captures your lips to kiss.

"Me too, beautiful."

The ride is quiet to your floor. Harry moves you to stand in front of him as he leans against the elevator wall. His arms are around you, luxuriating the last moments of you in this thin dress. He finds your ear to whisper in.

"Are you gonna let me have you before the afterparty?" He asks, holding your jaw and turning it so you're looking at him from the side.

Your nude lips plump, before your teeth sink into them. Harry is quick to yank them out. And he watches as it jiggles.

"We won't be going to the afterparty if I do," You laugh.

"I promise you that we will," Harry says. "Just wanna love on my baby first."

You sigh and shake your head. "I don't trust myself. But we have all night afterwards." Harry tries to fight your decision, squeezing at your body and trailing his hot breath along your face. Of course, you're dripping wet in your panties and want nothing more than to take this man any way he wants, but you have to make an appearance at the afterparty.

Harry is pouting while you two walk to your hotel room. You continuously poke at his indented dimple and swing your joined hands with the other. "I can't believe people finally saw the movie. Do you think they liked it?" You ask, hoping to distract your boyfriend.

He nods sternly. "Of course, they did. It was really good, Y/N. I promise," He tells you. "And I'm not just saying that because I'm your boyfriend."

You smile shyly. "Okay, good," You speak softly. Harry chuckles, pinching your chin, before unlocking your room door. The cool breeze invites you in, and that alone makes you want to end the night early. "Unzip me?" Harry chuckles at your eagerness. He unzips your dress, watching the tension leave your body as you're not trapped in that tight material anymore.

"Better?" He asks, before kissing your shoulder blade. You nod lazily with a moan from your skin getting the circulation it needs.

Harry watches you brush pass him and fall back onto the bed. Your breasts finally spill out the top of your dress, but you don't care at this point. Your arms stretch over your head as you moan out a yawn.

"How much time we do have?" Harry asks, approaching you at the bed. He stands at the end, where your knees hang off. He leans down to grab the hem of your long dress and begin to roll it up.

"I don't know. I think the party starts right away, so, soon?" You respond, sitting on your elbows to watch him. The room is quiet while Harry bunches your dress up your legs. He gets it pass your knees so you can finally spread them, giving him space to stand between them. His eyes admire your perfect body, before they stare at the straps on your shoulders. You notice and slide them off—slowly to come off suggestive. A smirk curls on both of your lips.

"You sure we don't have time?" Harry utters.

You shake your head, now a shit-eating grin on your face. "Nope." Harry sighs and continues to push your dress up. He gets it over your stomach, and the sight makes him lean down to press a wet kiss there.

"Are we one hundred percent sure, baby?" Harry drops his voice while your dress is over your breasts that perfectly spill on your chest. "Just five minutes?"

"No," You laugh, pushing at Harry's head when he aims for your puckered nipple. "We'll never leave."

Harry groans dramatically. "Fine," He huffs, finally getting your dress off of you. He stands up straight, looking down at his favorite, naked sight. Your eyes are warm as they stare up at him.

The way your boyfriend has made you feel over the past year has grown your confidence. You aren't embarrassed or quick to cover yourself anymore when his eyes are on you. Now, you feel sexy as his gaze darkens, and you can only imagine the things going on in his head.

Harry sucks in a sharp breath, taking a step back. You sit up on the bed. "I'm gonna head downstairs to wait for you," he says in a clipped tone, trying to avoid his lingering stare on your body.

"Why?" You whine, standing up. Harry puffs out a sigh—his eyes wandering on the ethereal sight he gets to call his.

He holds your sides and squeezes. "Because I will do very bad fucking things to you, baby, if I stay any longer," He answers, seriously. His hips snap forward for you to feel the pain in his pants. You gasp, before laughing. "For your own safety, I'm gonna go. Just meet me downstairs when you're changed, okay?"

You playfully pout, doeing your eyes. Harry leans forward to nibble on your lip. The sound that comes out of your mouth forces him to step back and clear his throat. Especially because you're still naked and probably wet in your panties.

"Yeah, I definitely need to leave." You giggle. "This gentleman boyfriend thing I got going on is not gonna last long."

"Okay, I'm sorry. I'm done messing with you," you say, swiftly kissing him. "I'll be down soon. I'm just gonna change into my afterparty dress. My makeup is fine, right?"

Harry nods. "Perfect. You're perfect."

You shyly swat at his chest and turn away. Your hair doesn't hide the light shining down your back and ass as you swing your hips while walking away to the other room, where your new dress hangs.

Harry sighs and quickly steps out the hotel room. When he's on the other side, he presses his forehead against the door and groans. "Fuck, Y/N," he chuckles while shaking his head.

"What? You got kicked out?"

Harry jumps, thinking he was alone. His head whips in the direction of the voice, and his expression immediately drops when he realizes who it is.

Andrew fucking Garfield.

"Of course, you're on our floor," Harry scoffs under his breath.

"Yeah, next door actually," He shrugs. Andrew stands tall and smug with his hands hidden in his pants pocket. He stalks over, looking Harry up and down.

"And I'm meeting Y/N downstairs," Harry answers Andrew's earlier question, walking away to the elevator. Andrew takes wide strides to catch up to him. Both men are long and leggy, but Harry still beats him in height. It does make him feel better. Especially because you've made it known a lot that you love height on a man.

"How is Y/N? Is she tired after the premiere?" Andrew asks while Harry clicks the button for the elevator.

"A little, but she's set on going to this afterparty," Harry entertains the man, trying not to get agitated with him around. The last thing Harry wants is for you to think something is wrong with him. You'll easily find out just from one look. You know your boyfriend like the back of your hand.

"Oh, good. I can't wait to see her outfit," Andrew speaks his thoughts out loud. Harry grimaces, and luckily the elevator arrives to save him from responding how he really wants to.

The men step inside the elevator, and Andrew clicks for the lobby, before leaning against the opposite wall as Harry.

"She looked incredible today. Don't you agree?" Andrew asks the obvious, cocking his head to the side.

Harry nods, "Incredible isn't enough. Don't think there's a word to describe how amazing she looked." Andrew pauses, staring at Harry. He notices that Andrews gone quiet. "What?"

He shakes his head. "No. It's just... I agree."

Harry and Andrew are quiet for the rest of the ride down. Harry is very thankful for that. The less he has to speak to Andrew, the fucking better.

When the elevator dings, announcing that they've made it to the lobby, Andrew suddenly turns to Harry.

Harry's eyebrow cocks up as he stares back.

"Hope you don't mind if I steal your girlfriend for a while tonight." Before Harry can speak, Andrew is gone, taking a fast but smooth pace out the hotel. Harry growls, shifting his jaw annoyedly.

Yeah fucking right.

You arrive in the lobby, searching for Harry. You don't notice how his eyes immediately find you and widen at your dress. It's so... short. But you still look beautiful, and Harry knows eyes are going to be on you, all fucking night.

"Baby," Harry calls out for you while standing up. As you have the worst awareness, Harry has to wave as well because you still couldn't spot him.

But when you do, a wide smile spreads on your lips as you quicken your heeled steps to him. Harry chuckles as you fall into his chest, swiftly kissing his neck.

"How do I look?" You ask, spinning in his arms—his hands gripping at your body like he's in pain.

"My honest answer would give me a reserved spot in hell, so my respectful answer is gorgeous," Harry states, kissing your forehead. You laugh loudly, brushing your nose against his jaw. "Are you ready?"

"Mhmm," you nod, before sighing. "Let me just enjoy this, real quick. I have a feeling people are going to be stealing me away from you tonight." Harry's eye twitches from you using that specific word—the same as Andrew.

Harry holds you closer. "No one can take you away from me," He whispers. You nod in agreement.

"And vice versa," You look up at him. "If I catch one woman speaking to you, I'll be kicking ass at my own afterparty." Harry laughs, your words music to his ears. Another thing he enjoys the most about you is your jealously. It makes his feel tame.

"Come on, baby," He says, finding your waist to hold as he leads you out the hotel.

The afterparty is dark and beaming shades of red to replicate the aesthetic of yours and Andrew's character dynamic. You continue to gasp the further you and Harry walk in.

"This looks incredible," You exclaim, tugging on Harry's arm. The sound of mingling is loud, so you lean in for Harry's ear. "Doesn't it look incredible in here, baby?" Harry turns his head to you and nods.

"It does. You like it?" Your answer is formed through a kiss, before you continue to look around. Harry leads you two to the bar, ready to start your rounds of drinks to warm you up. As the left side of your waist is showing, Harry finds his hand resting there. One, to touch your cool, smooth skin. Two, to cover it.

He loves how you look and wants the world to see it too, but he can't help his predatory senses trying to cover you up. He's already having to deal with your legs being on display for everyone to gawk at. They're long and beaming against the neon lights before they meet your tight stilettos.

You walk shyly, already feeling eyes on you. Harry finds your ear. "This is going to be a long night for me. I hope you know that." Your nerves disappear as you focus on your boyfriend—his objective.

"Yeah?" You giggle. You two finally reach the bar and snag a seat. Harry decides to stand behind you, holding your waist loosely and resting his chin on your shoulder.

"You love to tease me, huh, baby?" He smiles against your ear. You shrink in your spot, smiling like a school-girl. The pet names get the best of you. Harry squeezes your thigh, before moving to stand beside you. "What do you want to drink? Champagne?"

You nod, leaning your elbow on the counter with your head facing Harry. Your eyes are too transfixed on how fucking handsome he is that you don't feel another presence on the other side of you until he speaks.

"Hey, favorite co-star." You almost jump from how close the voice is. Both yours and Harry's head turn to look over at Andrew.

You sit up straight and gasp. "Hey, you made it!" Your arms open for him to step into. Harry immediately places his hand on the small of your back, slowly crawling to stretch around you.

"You made it too," Andrew laughs. He glances at Harry with a short, challenging glare. "Hey, Harry." But doesn't give him the time to respond because he's focused back on you.

Harry rolls his eyes, now distracted by the bartender as he asks for drinks. You promptly turn to Harry, swiftly kissing his cheek, as he places your orders. "That's it?" He asks you. A nod is your response.

Andrew leans against the counter to speak to the bartender afterward. "I'll get what they're having too." You smirk at Andrew, getting two different reactions from both men.

"Oh, so you’re copying my drink order again. That didn't end after filming, huh?" You tease. Andrew shrugs, turning his body to face you but keeps his elbow on the counter. Harry wants to pull you into him as your body language shows interest in Andrew.

"Yeah, I still can never decide on a drink. It's just easier to copy you. We basically have the same taste," He says with an innocent smile but Harry sees right through it.

He clears his throat loudly, but when he realizes you didn't hear him, he then gently kisses your shoulder. You glance back at him, lifting an eyebrow. "What happened, baby?" You ask, reaching a hand back to search for him. He easily takes yours and intertwines your fingers with his.

"So, Harry, did you enjoy the movie?" Andrew asks Harry before he can get a word out to you. Your eyes light up at the question, and so does Harry's heart. The look you stare at him with makes his rival with Andrew a little more meaningless. He'll never get the eyes you give him.

"I did," Harry nods, tickling your chin. "You both did great." You smile widely, and Harry consumes the gesture inside him. It gives him instant butterflies—your smile.

"Thank you, H," Andrew interrupts your small, intimate moment. "Hey, no hard feelings about, you know, those scenes, right?” His smirk is knowing. You gasp at Andrew and swat at his chest—a little more force than usual. But he doesn’t mind. "Hey, what did I do?" He teases, shriveling his nose.

Harry's jaw ticks again. "Oh my god, Andrew. Shut up," You laugh. One of your arms are naked as the other is long sleeved from the design of your dress. The nude arm is on Andrew's side as you reach up to wrap it loosely around his shoulder. He hums as he gets to feel your lukewarm skin on his neck. "You're the worst. You know that?" You joke, locking your arm tightly.

"I'm your favorite co-star. Don't lie to the people," He replies, motioning to Harry. He enjoys every tick and growl and huff he receives from him.

You remove yourself from Andrew—too soon for his liking—and scoff. "That's a lie," You say, trying to avoid a smile. But Andrew gasps and squeezes at your arm.

"Leading me on, huh?"

You roll your eyes, before smiling at Harry. "He's a handful," You pretend to whisper but Andrew obviously hears it. Harry entertains your joke with a nod while you find your arms slithering around his neck. Your fingers play with his hair and tug on it to test him.

Harry grins, at both your PDA and Andrew awkwardly watching the exchange. Harry adores that you will love on him anywhere, anytime, no matter what.

"Here's your drinks," The bartender returns with three glasses of champagne. Harry starts to grab both of yours, but Andrew moves quicker and takes yours.

"Here, darling," He blurts while holding the drink out for you. Harry grumbles under his breath, fisting one of his hands. You stare at the drink before lifting an eyebrow at Andrew. That was weird. "What?" Andrew shrinks at your offended stare.

You let one arm fall from Harry to take the drink. "Thanks," you slowly speak. Your attention is back on Harry as he grabs his own. "Cheers?" His smile returns when your face approaches his to make this moment about solely the two of you.

"To you, baby," He says, intimately. Your blush is saved from being seen because of the shaded lights in the room. But Harry knows you too well. His thumb picks at your bottom lip. "No need to get all shy on me."

You push his hand away from your face. "I'm not shy," You scoff.

Momentarily forgetting Andrew is there, you jump when you feel him against your side. He has his drink lifted, waiting to clink with yours.

"Cheers to you, Y/N," He says.

You smile nicely and raise your drink. "Cheers to us," You correct him. Andrew chuckles and tips the rim of his glass with yours before downing the sparkling liquid. You swiftly turn back to your boyfriend and repeat the gesture. Harry's heart throbs for you at the simple move.

"Cheers," You whisper and sip at your drink. Andrew finds his hands on your shoulders to squeeze.

"I can't believe we did it. Today was amazing," He beams as you spin in your seat. Harry continues to jealousy drink with his elbow on the counter to clearly watch your exchange.

You nod in agreement. "I've been waiting for this day since we finished filming. Can't believe it happened." Andrew raises his eyebrows.

"I wonder what everyone thought."

"I don't," You laugh. "I rather not know." Harry takes that as his cue to butt in and kiss your cheek. Your lips instantly curl into a smile.

"Don't worry about everyone else. You did amazing, baby, that's all that matters," He tells you.

Andrew lifts his glass at that. "H is right." Harry wants to snap at him to quit it with the nickname. But as another presence approaches, he stops himself.

It's your manager, grinning ear-to-ear. You finally slide off the bar stool to properly hug them.

"Hey, superstar. How are you feeling?" They ask you. Both Harry and Andrew watch solely you and how you expressively answer the question. Smirks find their faces from the thoughts invading their minds.

Your manager holds your hand then looks at Andrew. "Everyone wants to speak to you two. I say stay together and kinda circle the room. Okay?" Harry groans out loud, not caring about your manager's scold.

You giggle and back yourself into your boyfriend. He still huffs while holding onto you protectively.

"I'll take good care of her, Harry," Andrew sounds assuring to you, but Harry can read him just by the look his face. You pat Andrew's chest for his attention, which he easily gives you.

"So, what you're saying is that you'll speak for me, and I don't have to talk to anyone," You joke, making everyone laugh. Harry squeezes your sides and presses a kiss to your shoulder. Your naked arm wraps behind him to land in his hair. The other brings your drink to your lips.

Andrew clears his throat. "That's exactly what I mean. Just need you to smile and wave." You cheer theatrically. Your manager claps their hands.

"Perfect. I'll guide you two around. Let's go." Andrew already moves to follow them, but you lag behind, waiting for him to step away. When he's gone, you turn around in Harry's arms. You two meet eyes and stare at each other, lovingly.

"Gonna miss me?" You ask, sipping at your drink.

"Don't know how I'm gonna manage," He sighs playfully. And his heart throbs again at the sound of your perfect laugh. "You owe me a dance, though."

"I'm saving all my good moves for you, Styles," You giggle. "Now kiss me, please." Harry doesn't hesitate to hold you in a passionate, champagne tasting kiss. Tongues are swiftly included, but you pull back before it continues.

"Am I allowed to find someone to hang out with while you get Garfield?" Harry asks, both of your foreheads touching. Your eyebrows furrow.

"You're asking if you can talk to anyone in this room besides me? Absolutely not." Your face is serious when you answer. Harry laughs and can't help his craving for your lips. "Go ahead and mingle, grumpy. I'll try to be as quick as possible," You say while caressing his cheek in your hand.

Harry nods as you step back. "Alright, you need to leave or I'm going to have no choice but to take you on this bar counter," He says. You glance over at the bar and pop up a suggestive eyebrow. Harry pokes at your breast to stop you from testing him.

"I'd be down, but I don't think that would be sanitary," You shrug.

"With the way you come, definitely not." You gasp, swatting at his shoulder.

"Goodbye, Styles." You spin on your heel and lift a hand to wave. Harry unabashedly watches your ass sway as you walk away from him. He sips on his drink, leaning back on the bar.

You catch up to Andrew and your manager—Harry keeping eyes on you. Andrew's eyebrows raise when you show up beside him, and his hand wraps around your waist. It looks polite and friendly to everyone surrounding them but Harry's hand squeezes around his glass at the action.

Just fucking wait until he gets you home.

You are tired and horny as Harry leads you out of the afterparty building and to the car. He doesn't give you time to give anyone a proper goodbye, especially Andrew, because he physically drags you away. He's a man on a mission.

"Why are you making me walk so fast, Harry? My feet hurt," You whine at the pounding throb in your heels. You notice the dimple indenting his cheek as he chuckles. You childishly pout, knowing he's laughing at you. "Meanie," You mutter.

When you two get outside, the cameras instantly hit you, forcing you to hide against Harry's chest. You feel the groan he lets out as he holds you. The one thing he hates more than your co-star are paparazzi. Especially when they swarm you like this. Harry has been a star since he was a teenager—he's used to this.

But he can feel his ears smoke with rage when you get attacked by paparazzi. There are guards surrounding the two of you to help. So, Harry becomes your eyes as he guides you blindly into your designated car.

You hear a door handle being pulled. "Get in, baby. I got you," Harry yells over the loud voices calling out to you. He helps you slide into your seat before he's following behind you. An arm still stay around you as he finds your chin to lift to him. "You okay, baby?" He asks, pecking the corner of your mouth. Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the dimmed car. The tinted windows block the camera flashes that punch against the glass.

"Yeah," you more or so whine. Harry laughs and softly kisses your lips.

"Good, gotta make sure I always take care of my baby, huh?" He breaths into your mouth. He tastes like champagne and fruits—platters of them were being passed around. You moan within the kiss to ask for more. Harry will gladly give you anything you want. He moves his hands down to squeeze at your curves while sucking on your lips.

Something suddenly turns on inside of you that makes your body completely crave for your boyfriend. The car takes off and speeds down the populated road, hiding the moaning couple behind the wide windows. Harry grips your sides to assist you on his lap as you plead for him.

"Love being close to you," Harry groans when you sit on top of him and press your chest to his. Your slightly taller height makes his chin tilt up to stare at your floaty eyes. "What do you want, Y/N. Tell me." Your hands are around his throat—for balance as the car takes sharp turns, and to force out the vocals that escape him as you squeeze it.

"More," You puff out, before finding his lips again. They don't break away as you slowly start to grind yourself on the dent in his pants.

As your dress is short, Harry grabs the hem and lifts it so only your panties are in the way. You gasp at the new sensitivity.

"Go on," Harry says, groping your ass cheeks as you move on him. He slaps one cheek before digging his nubbed nails into them to claim what's already his. “Use me.” Your hand moves to his shoulder while the other grips the seat behind him.

Your moans are against his mouth as both of your jaws freeze agape. Harry's breath is hot as it brushes yours. He can feel you wetting his pants, but he keeps his hands tame on your ass instead of finding your cunt.

He's waiting until he gets you upstairs and next door to a certain someone before unleashing himself. He has hours of raging, predatory emotions that need to be thrusted inside of you. Whether it's in your mouth or cunt, Harry needs to have you. He's let some other man have you for far too long.

You reach between the two of you to hook a finger in your panties. Harry knows what you're trying to do, so he gently stops you. Your eyebrows furrow at him. "Why?" You choke out, still continuing to brush your clit against him. It shocks every nerve when he nudges you.

"Just... not yet. Wait til we get upstairs, okay?" He says, looking up at you. His eyes suddenly dilate at the sight. It's the same angle from that scene in your movie. But instead of getting the smug smirk of Anna—her hissing voice taunting Maddy, Harry looks up at begging eyes and pouted lips that push out a whine. He gets a you only he's privileged to see. It causes a drunk smile to form.

"What?" You question from his new look. He only shakes his head, before leaning forward to kiss you. "Why can't we? Please."

"Be patient."

As he says that, the car hits a pothole, causing you to accidentally push down against his cock. You gasp loudly, tightening your hand on his shoulder. Harry has to shut his eyes to calm himself down as he's one more thrust into taking you right in this car.

The rest of the drive home feels longer than to the afterparty. Maybe it's because of Harry trying to hold back from yanking himself out his pants. Or from the sight of you hovering over him, your temptress lips trailing his jaw and puffing out a fruit-scented breath.

You weren't making the car ride any easier for him. You don't know why he wants to wait, but you could care less. You discreetly rotate your hips, pretending like you're simply adjusting in your spot. But the tut Harry gives you makes it obvious that you're chasing for a release.

Harry has to physically lift you off his lap to stop you. The wet stain on his raised pants has him biting his lip. He can almost taste you on his tongue.

You whine at the disconnection and lean forward to kiss him, hoping to distract his hands. It works for a moment as they slide up your back. So, you swiftly drop back down on his lap, both of you moaning.

"Baby, just wait," Harry tells you, holding you up again. "I'll give you everything you want, okay?"

"I want it now," You complain like a child, pushing at his hands to release them from your sides. But his grip only tightens. Harry laughs at your weak slap to the back of his hand. You huff and decide to finally listen so you don't end up in a punishment.

"Good girl."

"Stop riling me up," you say and flick him. His nose shrivels to laugh.

"I'm sorry."

"But you're not," You snap, pinching his chin. Harry smiles widely at your perfect, frowned face.

"I am," He argues playfully. You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder, your body calming down.

"I miss when you had the hormonal tendencies of a caveman."

Harry slaps at your ass. "You mean when I had to carry you around because you couldn't walk."

You nod on his shoulder, before kissing it. "Princess treatment and good sex? I was spoiled. The good ol' days."

Harry smirks but you can't see it. "Oh, I can make it happen again. Just wait until we're upstairs."

You lift your head to look at him. His expression is smug and dangerous. Another shockwave pulses in your cunt.

"Yay me," You snicker.

As soon as the car pulls up to your hotel, paparazzi are waiting to give you a not-so warm welcome. Harry holds you like before and guides you inside. The rapid, cold flashes of the camera hits him instead, which he's fine with. He'll do anything to protect you.

The hotel doors close behind you two, and Harry walks further inside the lobby before letting you go. You sigh while stretching your muscles straight. Harry fixes your hair that he accidentally messed up.

"You okay?" He asks you with a gentle smile. You step into his space, finding an arm to round his neck. Your answer is a nod, and a long, loving stare that widens his lips. "Good, I love you." Harry gives you a short kiss that you hum into.

Goosebumps run up your naked arm that's around his neck. Harry turns his head to kiss a trail. You watch with your teeth sinking into your lip. You two don't even realize the public setting you're in as your only focus is each other.

Harry takes your arm from his neck to interlace your hand with his. He leads you the elevator and away from the windows of people.

"Now will you let me sit on your cock?" You beg in a broken whisper from how desperate your body suddenly becomes. Harry raises his eyebrows in amusement, looking down at you.

"What a dirty mouth you have, missy," He teases you. You roll your eyes, exaggeratedly. "Don't do that." He pinches your side.

"You're annoying," You groan.

Harry shrugs. "You love me," He smiles.

"Don't assume that. Especially when you rejected me in the car."

"I just told you to wait," He argues with a laugh. Your frown is so pretty. The way your plump lips cast downward, and your brows meet your soft eyes. You're trying to look mad but Harry only finds it cute.

"Yeah, and now I'm dripping and unsatisfied," you point a finger at him.

"I'll gladly take care of that," Harry snorts, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

As you two are walking, ignoring the rest of the guest in the lobby, you guys don't notice a figure jogging up to you.

"Good because—"

"Y/N! Harry! Wait up."

Harry immediately tenses up at that voice, and the dent in his pants dies down.

Fucking Andrew Garfield.

You turn and meet eyes with your co-star. A disappointed-hidden smile finds your lips as you wave at him.

"Hey, Andrew," You say, cheerfully. Harry's hand squeezes yours, and you look over your shoulder at him. His face is hard while staring at Andrew. "Nice dog," You tease and push your ass against him. That earns a raspy groan.

Andrew reaches you two and stuffs his hands in his pockets. "Hey, guys. I didn't see you leave. Thought you ran to the bathroom or something," He chuckles.

"Nah, I got tired and needed Harry to help me escape," You say. "Sorry about that."

Andrew swiftly waves you off. "No worries. I'm glad I found you, though." You playfully aww and pat his chest.

"Miss me that much?" You tease him. The honest words were behind his eyes that only Harry notices. He takes a step closer to your back, feeling your warmth against him.

Andrew only gives Harry a half glance before he's focusing on you. "Of course. Who else could I suffer a million praises with?"

"Yeah, that felt never ending, huh?" You shiver at the amount of mingling your manager put you through before Harry thankfully took you away.

"Felt? No, it was," Andrew raises his eyebrows, making you laugh. "But luckily, I was able to escape too. Unfortunately, I didn't have a Harry to help me." You chuckle and look over at your boyfriend. He only cracks a smile because now you're watching at him. His face was stone cold moments before, glaring at Andrew.

"Well, it was nice seeing you again," You attempt to end the conversation. Harry takes that as his cue to motion you to the elevators.

Andrew's long legs keeps him up to pace with you two. "My room is actually on your floor. Mind if I join the ride up?" He asks, but it's basically rhetorical as he follows.

You groan under your breath—Harry can tell and laughs. "Sure," you shrug, before turning to Harry. "Tired, baby?"

Tired is the complete opposite of what Harry is feeling, but he knows what you're trying to do. He nods and forces a yawn out. "Very," he sighs.

"Same. At least we'll be in bed soon," You respond and reach for the elevator button.

Andrew clears his throat. "It's been a long day, huh?" He asks, specifically you. Harry leans a shoulder against the wall and swings your interlaced hands. Absentmindedly, he brings the back of your hand to his lips. Andrew notices how you sigh lovingly from the gesture.

"Long isn't enough to explain today," You joke. "I'm going to sleep so well, as soon as I hit that bed."

Andrew chuckles. "Yeah, if you hear me snoring loudly, you know why," He says. "I'm next door to you." Your eyebrows raise.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah," He nods. "If Harry gets too annoying, you're always welcome over." The only reason you laugh is because it's expected.

Harry ticks his jaw, just like Andrew wants.

"I'm alright, I can handle this big grump," You say, pressing into your boyfriend.

Luckily, the elevator opens to kill off this conversation. You three step inside—you and Harry taking one side while Andrew leans on the other. He watches as you wrap an arm around Harry's waist and press your head into the crook of his neck. The gesture is intimate and gentle. Your eyes shut, knowing you're safe against your boyfriend.

Harry turns his attention to Andrew and smiles—it looks friendly, but Andrew knows it's anything but. Harry holds the back of your head, and you hum in approval. The soft piano music and the rhythmic ding of the elevator reaching another floor fills up the silence.

Andrew reaches for his tie, loosing it. "So, Harry, when's the next time you think you'll do a movie again?" He asks your boyfriend. Harry shrugs with his lips puckered.

"Not sure. Focusing on music for now," He answers. "But I enjoy just watching Y/N in movies." Your ears stay attentive to the conversation. Even though he can't see it, Harry knows you're smiling at his words.

"Well, I think next time you do, we should be in it together. Would be fun, don't you think?" Andrew says. You suddenly pop your eyes open with a loud gasp. Both men flinch from the sound, surprised, as they stare at you jolting up and clapping your hands.

"Imagine!" You exclaim. "You two in a movie together? The world would go crazy. I would go crazy."

Andrew perks up. "Really?" You nod wildly. "Hmm, maybe you should be in it with us."

"Pretty sure you'd steal all the attention," Harry says and squeezes at your side.

"Well, obviously," You playfully shrug. They both laugh at that. "But you two as partners in crime? Harry Styles and Andrew Garfield? I'd pay good money to watch that movie."

Andrew pops an eyebrow up "Just that good looking, huh?"

"Too good looking." Even though it was a harmless compliment, Andrew took it straight to the heart. He couldn't help the shy smile on his face.

You look up at Harry and hold his shoulders. "Then you can get back at me when all the women in the theater gawk over your character."

Harry rests his hands on your hips. "I don't need to get back at you. And I don't need women gawking at my character."

You roll your eyes and cross your arms. "Ugh, stop being such a fictional man. It's making me uncomfortable." Both Harry and Andrew laugh at your comment. As does the elevator with the sound of the doors sliding open. "Oh, that's us."

The men follow you out, both catching a quick glance at the backside of you. Your black dress hugging your curves, and your naked arm displaying your glowing, smooth skin as you stretch. Your legs powerfully walk down the hall—subconsciously swinging your hips. Harry easily finds his cock tightening against his pants once again.

"You're one lucky bastard," Andrew mutters for only Harry to hear as they trail behind you. A smile grows on Harry's lips.

"I am," He nods. "And you're soon going to be one unlucky bastard," He says, holding Andrew's shoulder for a short second.

He frowns at Harry. "What? Why?"

"You'll hear."

Andrew starts to ask again, but you appear, grabbing at Harry's open suit jacket. You smile kindly at Andrew, "Have a good night, Andy. I had fun!"

With that, you're yanking Harry into your room. But he's quick to wink at your co-star, before you're shutting the door behind you two.

Harry is suddenly being pushed against the same door with you dropping to your knees. You are swift to unbutton his pants and tug them and his boxers down in one go. Your mouth is physically watering from the sight of his cock. Harry lets out a much-needed sigh, finally being released from his tight pants.

"Someone's eager, I see," Harry chuckles over you.

"Whatever," You mutter, looking up at him. "Now are you gonna fuck my throat or what?" Harry's eyes widen in amusement, and his cock twitches from your words.

"Is that what you want, pretty girl?" He leans down and grasps your jaw. It's a hard grip, forcing a whine out of you. His thick thumb pushes pass your lips slowly. You hum and circle your tongue around it—mimicking familiar gestures to his cock.

Harry uses his other hand to fixate your hair into a ponytail. "I love when my girl is so desperate for me—hmm. Yeah, is that what you are?" You nod, sucking on his thumb to rile him up. It works because he hisses under his breath.

"I want to choke on you, H. So bad. Please," You whine, muffled. His thumb pushes down on your tongue, before pulling away and running along your bottom lip.

"Yeah, you were thinking about my cock down your little throat, baby?" Your body shivers from his tone.

"All day," You answer, digging your nails into his thighs to stop yourself from grabbing at his cock that hangs in front of your eyes. Harry hums, taking himself in his hand and pumping slowly. His abs clench, and his head rolls, showcasing the underside of his jaw.

As much as you want his cock inside of your throbbing cunt, you don't have time to wait for that. You need him in you somehow, even if it means coughing and gagging on his cock. Harry is anything but small, and you whine from the thought of him pushing against the walls of your mouth and throat.

Harry continues to pump himself while also dragging the tip of his cock along your lips. Your tongue swipes along the bottom, collecting the come that transferred.

You adjust on your knees, unable to stay still. Harry smirks widely at the sight of you squirming for him. It's all he could ever ask for. For you to only want him.

"Alright, baby, gonna let me choke you now?" Harry pushes down on your lip to separate them.

"Yes, please," You say, before sticking your tongue out without him even needing to ask you. His desperate girl.

Harry's hand tightens on your hair to get a good grip. You suck in a breath, preparing yourself as he leans his hips forward. As soon as his tip slides inside your mouth, you're a moaning mess. He's heavy and warm with a lingering taste of salt.

Harry curses under his breath as he watches himself disappear into you, slowly to laver the feeling of his cock being warmed up. The noises you let out vibrate around him. His legs instantly lock up from it.

Your eyes stay trained on Harry and his hard expression. He softly taps on your chin, silently asking you to open wider. You do your best to widen. The stretch to your throat as he pushes farther already causes you to gag.

Harry gasps, pausing his movements. You feel him tighten his grip on your hair. "Fuck me, Y/N," he groans, fluttering his eyes shut. "Already about to make me come." He whimpers. A sense of pride blossoms inside you.

Being praised is already a kink of yours, but it's grown since being with Harry. Having that assurance that you're making him feel good is always great to hear.

You have to shift again as your feel yourself dripping in your already filled panties. You let go of Harry's thighs momentarily to pull the hem of your dress over your ass. The whiff of cold air hitting your clit against your panties makes you moan. And that goes straight to Harry's cock.

He snaps his hips forward, pushing as far as he can. "Oh, god, baby. Fuck... fuck... yes," Harry mumbles. He brushes his thumb against your cheek. "Not even gonna give me a chance to fuck your mouth? So desperate for my come, aren't you?"

Your eyes are apologetic but also taunting. Harry smirks, slowly pulling his cock from you. You both watch him escape, slick with your saliva, and the drool connects from his tip to your mouth. His jaw falls agape at the sight.

"Okay, you ready for me?" He holds himself straight. You nod and open your mouth. "Just stay there and look pretty for me." You giggle and nod again.

Harry slips into your mouth. The wet noises and gurgling you let out fills the room. You try to relax your mouth, focusing on breathing before he starts his bullet pace.

Harry pulls back again, but not all the way. He pauses for a second that you flick your eyes up to him. The expression on his face is a dangerous smirk that widens to a devilish smile.

You don't have time to process what's happening as Harry suddenly snaps his hips forward—beginning a speedy pace. You gasp a moan, holding his thighs, tightly.

"Good fucking girl. Always—god—always taking me so well," Harry praises as he watches himself pump into your mouth. Your eyes suddenly swell with tears. You fight the gag that boils up every time he hits the back of your throat. But that doesn't last long as you choke on a deeper thrust.

Harry drags out a raspy moan, twitching inside of you. This isn't the first time you've taken him like this, but it always feels as if. You're always caught off guard by his size as it stretches your mouth sore. Him simply sliding slowly down your throat has you choking, so he usually needs to prepare you for his throat-fucking pace.

You whimper from the man hovering over you. His eyes are lidded and drunk-like as he swipes his tongue over his bottom lip. He traces his focus on your facial features with a lazy smile. He moans incoherent words under his breath, unable to form a sentence.

Harry's hips don't slow down, snapping forward to a high tempo beat. The noises of his cock hitting your throat so recklessly is his favorite sound. Partnered with your muffle whine for more.

"Fuck, Y/N. You don't even know you good you feel around me," Harry lets the words wander out his mouth without thought. "Taking me like no one else can. Claiming my cock, aren't you?" The question is rhetorical because with the grip he has on your hair, you aren't able to properly move your head to nod.

You feel Harry twitch again inside your mouth. And the way he chokes out a gasp, you can tell he's close. Drool dribbles down your chin, but the thick white coat of it reveals that it's accompanied by Harry's come.

"Milking me dry, baby. Can't save any for your cunt, huh? Gotta be greedy and take it all. God, I got such a fucking greedy girl." Harry tilts his head to the side, giving you a degrading look that you moan around his cock. He smiles slowly at your response. "Yeah, you won't even deny it. Fuck. M'gonna come and give you what you want. Think you deserve it?"

With his pace making it hard for you to keep up, you answer by squeezing at his clenching thighs as they assist his thrusts.

Harry suddenly yanks you out of his mouth. You immediately gasp for air—the sting in the back of your throat feels sore and raw. Harry covers his cock with his hand, pumping it just has fast as his previous pace.

You whine at the sight, subconsciously letting your mouth open. You're desperate for his taste on your tongue. It sticks out, signaling his aim to be in your mouth.

"You better fucking swallow it all, Y/N. If you're my good girl then you'll take all of me, right?" Harry leans down to kiss the tip of your nose. You nod and wiggle your tongue to taunt him. He smirks and quickens his pace on his cock.

Harry is suddenly groaning a noise from the back of his throat—it's gravelly and monotone. He knocks his head back for a second as his legs lock up. You shift your mouth slightly to line yourself with his cock, ready for him.

Ropes of come shoot out Harry's tip, mainly aiming in your mouth, while some lands on your chin and cheeks. Your tongue swipes all of it back in your mouth, though. Harry is able to loll his head down to watch weakly as you collect every drop of him.

"You're perfect, baby. So fucking good to me," He wavers, before pressing a hard kiss to your lips. You moan within it, grabbing at his neck to keep him close. Harry chuckles from your desperation. "I got you, baby."

You're lifted from the ground and in Harry's arms. Your dress rides up higher as your legs wrap around him.

"Gonna let me take care of you now? I can have you however I want?" Harry whispers against your lips. You giggle with a nod.

"However you want."

You are laid out on your bed, placed there by Harry. He stands at the edge, examining every inch of your body in silence. You wait cautiously, slightly squirming from his intense stare.

Your small dress was peeled off you, only the lace pieces of your undergarment hugging you. Harry, on the other hand, is completely naked. As soon as he got you undressed, his limp cock instantly grew again.

Harry finally reaches for you, circling your legs to hold the underside of your knees. The hot touch of his hands forces you to gasp, but you quickly roll your lips inwards to shush yourself. Harry smirks, loving how a simple touch to your skin triggers you.

"For hours—hours—I had to hold back from dropping in front of you and eating that fucking cunt in front of everyone." You whine from his words. "I wanted to kiss all up your body, bite your skin to make marks for everyone to see," Harry speaks softly, leaning down to meet your knee. His plush lips press light kisses that lead to your thighs. He drops to the ground and lets the underside of your knees rest on his shoulders.

His head continuously turns to give equal attention to each thigh. You shiver from the sensitivity, the more he moves to the inside. His eyes flick up to you as his tongue sticks out and swirls a pattern. You watch in a trance. His eyes are soft and filled with adoration for you.

You smile gently and reach for his hair to twirl your finger around. Harry finds himself sucking on your thighs. "I remember watching Andrew between your legs, just like this," Harry speaks against your skin. His teeth swiftly bite down, causing you to gasp. "He was kissing your soft thighs, getting a whiff of your dripping cunt."

You suddenly frown, sitting up on your elbows to get a better look at Harry. "What?" You say.

"Mhm, he kissed down your thigh like this—" He presses harder kisses to your thighs, moving his head closer to your center. "Your head threw back as his lips pressed to your covered cunt. He said you smelled so good, and you moaned just from that."

Your eyes look sad and confused when Harry glances up at you. "No," You whisper. "I was acting."

"And he hooked a finger around your panties—red because he told you it was his favorite color," Harry continues. The ones you're wearing are white—Harry's favorite set. And they can't hide the obvious wet spot. "You were being a good girl and lifted your ass to help him slide them off. Like you were so desperate to have him on you with no barrier." Harry cocks a brow up when you don't move.

Your expression is hurt as you stare at your boyfriend. "Why are you saying that?" Harry smiles and rests his cheek on the inside of your thigh.

"I'm going to do exactly what he did to you. But I want you screaming louder. I want you whimpering and whining because you can't take it anymore but you still greedily want more. I want you squirming from the pleasure, and trying to shut your legs closed. I don't want the memory of you wanting him, I only want to see you want me."

You pause dumbfounded. Harry acts as if he didn't just say that and juts his teeth out, reaching for your panties. He grips the lace right over your clit. Your eyes are still widened as you lift your hips to assist him. His dimples give away his smirk.

Harry holds your legs up while he peels your panties away. His height stretches when he rises up straight. He spits your panties off to the side, before leaning down to rest his hands next to your breasts. Your legs are bent with your feet plant weakly on the bed. With your cunt on display and Harry's eyes staring unabashedly at it, your legs wobble from the intensity surrounding the room.

"So, you remember what happened next?" Harry speaks up, hovering over your face. You do.

"Yes," you answer quietly. Harry smirks, closing the distance between your faces so his breath is grazing your skin.

"Tell me then, babygirl," He says.

You shake your head, sadly, "But I don't want to be them. I want to be us." Harry's eyes soften for a moment. He sees the way your eyes turn glossy. He can't help but capture your lips. You gladly accept the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Move back," Harry speaks before grabbing your lips again. You push up the bed, and he crawls over you. When you feel the pillows, you stop—your legs now able to stretch out straight.

Harry starts to lower himself, letting his weight top you. He stares down at your face cautiously. Your throat forces out a whine from the warm, heavy body of your boyfriend weighing on you. This is one of your favorite positions because you love to feel Harry press down on you. It makes you feel safe as you're surrounded by only him.

"I don't want to be Anna and Maddy either, baby," Harry starts to speak. "I want to be just us too."

"So, why are you—"

"He needs to know that it's not Anna and Maddy. It's only us. It'll always be us," Harry interrupts you with a pained look. You hold Harry's jaw, finding his eyes filled with unwanted thoughts.

You press a kiss to his nose. "Who? Who needs to know?" You ask. Harry only stares at you, and that's all you need to understand. A sinister smirk peeks on your lips. "Oh. I see."

Harry replicates your face, glad you're on the same page. "Now, baby, do you remember what happened next?"

You bite your lip, pretending to look deep in thought. Harry chuckles, quickly nibbling on your neck, before looking at you again.

"I think he lifted my legs to my chest," You say. Harry nods and moves from on top of you. He sits on his knees—not missing the opportunity to quickly flick at your nipple. You look up at his glistening chest, scattered with your favorite tattoos. His chest heaves as he picks up your legs and pushes at them.

"He made you hold them, huh?" Harry asks when your hands find the back of your thighs to press to your breasts. You nod at his question, and tilt your head at his disapproved tut. "I'd never make my baby do the work. All she has to do is lay there and take it."

Your hands are smacked away with a surprised gasp. Harry grabs your shins, keeping your bent legs against your chest. From the force, your ass slightly lifts off the bed, and now your cunt is in the perfect spot for him. He smiles down at it, impulsively licking his lips.

"I remember you trying to keep quiet," Harry speaks while lowering himself to a comfortable position. He grazes his lips over the skin beside your cunt. "But with me, Y/N, I want to hear everything."

You nod rapidly with a whine from his tone. It's demanding but pleading, as if he needs to hear you.

Harry rims your cunt with his warm tongue. He licks at the sticky juices that also ended up in your panties. Your neck strains as you try to watch, but you already feel your limbs growing weak.

In a quick move, Harry plunges his tongue inside your cunt, mimicking the curl of his finger to reach a specific spot. You let out a surprised scream, gasping and grasping at the sheets. Harry smiles against you, getting exactly what he needs.

He keeps you open and at his mercy as he attacks your cunt with his tongue. His thumb assists by flicking and circling your clit. He switches between being gentle to play with your sensitivity to suddenly pinching your clit and yanking a pained but pleasurable moan out of you.

His tongue swirls the letters of your name—a familiar motion. You let out a scattered hum, but the dark look Harry flicks up at you changes your previous reaction. "Fuck Harry!" You yelp, before digging your teeth into your lip. "Yes! Please." Harry's cock twitches under him from the growl lingering in your voice.

Cold rings start to knead your ass, causing you to flinch. Your body is on fire that his hands on you sound a sizzle. "Always taste so good, baby. Never can get enough of you." Harry's lips graze your cunt as he speaks before plunging his tongue back in you like a starved man.

Your head is digging back into the pillow—back arched at the perfect angle for Harry. "More! Please, more, Harry," You beg, wanting him deeper and faster while also pushing his head away because it's too much.

Harry will always be proud to admit the power you have over him. You have him wrapped around your little finger. Just from your plead, his cock is already thick and throbbing. He runts against the sheets for slight relief.

Your voice cracks as you release another extended moan. It rings around the room. Harry gets sloppy from the sound. He moves to suck on your clit, knowing how to push you over the edge. His fingers replace his tongue and pump in your cunt. He searches for a certain spot before curling them, and you gasp loudly from it.

"Let him know, Y/N," Harry dares you, pressing wet kisses around your clit. You take him up on that dare and yelp out his name, Harry's groan against your clit vibrates through your whole body.

"I'm gonna come, Harry. Fuck!" You cry, holding the back of his head. With Harry's fingers distracted by your cunt and playing with your ass, nothing keeps your legs open, so they instantly close around his head. Harry thinks to push them apart, but your scent is trapped in the inclosed space.

It's not so bad in there.

Harry quickens his flicking tongue on your clit and plunges another thick finger in your cunt. Your feet find the bed, and you're lifting off the bed, chasing Harry's mouth.

He laughs and kisses your clit. "I got you, baby." You feel your release creeping on you. And Harry knows it too because he focuses on your clit, nibbling on the sensitive nub.

"Harry!" You get out before you're coming. The noises you scream are pornographic, worst than the ones you practiced with your intimacy coordinator for the movie. Harry drags his warm tongue along your clit to guide you through it.

You're panting and mumbling curses under your breath. Harry finds your legs to push back down on the bed. He follows the trail of come on the inside of your thigh to lick up.

You flinch at his delicate touch. Your throat is completely dry as you breathe out harshly.

Harry is suddenly hovering over you with a smug smirk. You don't have the energy to comment on it as you catch your breath.

"Hi, baby," He chuckles, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth. You hum tiredly. "I'm gonna take your bra off, okay?" You nod slowly and arch your back to help him.

Harry slips the undergarment off of you and tosses it away. You're now completely naked and shining under the dim light in the room. Harry smiles down at you proudly, crawling down your body.

He finds a nipple to latch onto and sucks softly. You hold the back of his head, tangling your hand in his curls. He kneads your other breasts, before switching to give it a wet suck.

When Harry looks up as sees you coming back to him, he smiles softly. You tug on his hair, asking for his lips, which he gladly gives you.

For a while, you're stuck in a passionate, hot and sloppy, make-out session, bodies warm against each other. Harry's cock ruts against your cunt, causing you both to jump and gasp.

"I don't think he's heard us enough," You suddenly whisper in the air. Harry looks down at you, and a wide smirk forms on his lips.

"Yeah? You don't think so?"

You shake your head shyly. "I think we should keep going."

"Me too, baby," Harry chuckles, sitting up on his knees. "Now, if I'm remembering correctly, I think Maddy took Anna like this—" Harry is gentle with flipping you around til you're on your stomach. You turn your head so your cheek is in the pillow. "What a fucking sight." Harry moans softly and he doesn't waste another second kneading your ass.

He leans down to kiss both cheeks, sucking for a short second. To your surprise, you feel your cheeks being spread apart and Harry's hot tongue pressing against your hole. You try to clench closed, but his strength overpowers yours, so you just have to take it.

"Harry," You gasp. Harry chuckles against your cheeks, before stopping and rising. Your knees push into the bed for leverage. You lift up on your hands and arch your back—actually assisting him. Harry holds his cock with one hand, continuing to knead your ass with the other.

"Arch a little more, baby," Harry says softly, and you do as told. Your cunt lips spread, causing your boyfriend to groan and slip a finger inside you.

You don't expect it, so you squeeze around him in a flinch.

"You're so tight. Think you can take me this cock?" Harry smirks, and you look over your shoulder at him.

"Easily," You tease with a little wiggle to your ass. "It's all mine."

Harry sighs. "Yes, it is," he says more himself with a gentle smile. That's all he ever needs to hear. He pumps himself a little faster, hardening himself completely. He's thick and veiny as his tip nudges your entrance.

Harry has a tight lip smirk on his face as he thrusts inside you—faster than you expected. Your jaw drops agape as you let out a loud yelp, followed by, "Fuck, Harry!" He slaps at your ass for your language.

His fingers dig into your hips as he shifts them to match his pace. Skin smacking against each other loudly, but not reaching the level of your moans. You want to bit into your arm, thinking you're too loud, but Harry surprises you when his hand comes around to slap at your clit.

"Not loud enough," he scolds. "Guess I'm not fucking you good enough, huh?" He chuckles—it's dark that it makes you shiver. You shake your head, disagreeing with him. "No? Then why can't he hear you?"

You fall to your elbows as your arms grow limp. Harry lets go of one of your hips to grab at your hair and keep your head up. The sudden yank to your roots makes you yelp. "F-f-fu-fuck—" you slur out, "you're so—god—"

"I'm so what, babygirl?" Harry asks teasingly, planting a foot on the bed to change his thrusting angle. His cock is in heaven, stuck inside your warm, silky walls. The grumble that emits in his chest bursts to a raspy moan out his mouth.

You whine, reaching a hand back for him. Harry untangles his hand in your hair to let you grab at his arm. His thick, sweaty bicep clenches when you dig your nails into it.

"So deep," You say in a whisper, almost losing your voice. Harry's thrust gain a force that jolts you forward. The bed hits the wall continuously—creaking to the same beat as your moans. "My stomach—" you cry.

Harry curses under his breath, his cock twitching. "Fuck, baby. You feel me deep in your stomach?" You nod against the pillow. Tears rim in your eyes as he bullets into your cunt. The pain is pleasure.

Harry's palm pushes into your lower abdomen, and he feels his cock against his hand. He gasps, fingers curling into you. "Oh, FUCK!"

Your knees give out, dropping both of you on the bed. Harry's heavy weight and his cock still stuck in your stomach, causes you to whine.

"I'm so close," You cry out a whisper. "Don't stop, please, Harry." Your clit, now against the mattress, throbs from being stimulated. You follow Harry's movements and hump into the bed, playing with yourself. He realizes what you're doing and groans from it.

"Fucking into the bed, babygirl?" You nod slowly.

"It feels so good. You feel so—oh my god."

Harry continues to push his cock in you, slower than before because he's starting to feel weak himself.

With him close, his lips find your ear to kiss. "I'm gonna come so fucking hard in you, baby. Can't get enough of this cunt. It's so good—" Harry hums, before groaning at you squeezing around him.

His hands find the back of yours and curls his fingers around you, pushing both of your hands under the pillows. Your head is facing the side, crying under him.

"I want it so bad. Please, please, please—" You continue to beg for him, and Harry could come just from that. But he always makes sure you get there first. He loves when you clench so hard around him and warm his cock with your come.

Harry presses long kisses to your ear, allowing you to listen to his sweet groans. His hips push into your ass, short but bullet thrusts, knowing your body and how this gets you off faster.

He lets go of your hands to travel his under your body and to your breasts. They're pushed into the bed, so he digs for them. His big hands grope both, before flicking at your nipples.

"I love you so much, Y/N," Harry says to you. "Please give it to me. Come just for me, baby. Squeeze this fucking cunt around me. Yes! Just like that—" You're clenching so hard, feeling your release exploding inside you.

Harry continues a slow thrust while you're coming. He moves his lips to the corner of your mouth as you scream out his name. His weight pushing you into the bed squeezes the sounds out of you.

You're gasping and crying when you come down. "I can't—too much," You whisper from the sensitivity. You try to escape his cock as it knocks against your sweet spot.

"I know, babygirl. I know. Just take it, okay? Be good for me," Harry kisses every spot on your face. "Already being such a good girl. Just a little more. I know it's so much, huh?" You nod, whimpering again. "But you're doing so fucking good. I'm gonna give you all of my come, okay? I'm almost there."

You still whine and try to squeeze his cock out of you. Harry plays with your nipples to distract you.

"Pretty breasts, just fit so perfectly in my hands." He gasps at your walls tightening around his cock. "And this cunt. Just so fucking perfect. Don't wanna be in any other cunt but this one. This cunt is only for this cock. Right, baby?"

You sniffle and answer verbally. "Yes, just for you, H. I—please."

"Then let him know that. Ask for my come. Tell him you only want this cock fucking you like this." Harry gets on his knees but keeps his chest against your back to stay close. "Go on, beg for this come."

Your hands reach behind you to Harry's ass as they clench when he thrusts in you. You try to clear your throat as it's hoarse. "H, please come in me. I need your come so bad!" You yell over the bed banging against the wall. "Fuck! I love your cock, baby. Just this one. Please, fill me up. I want it!"

Harry groans with his lips against your cheek. With one final thrust, Harry is spurting thick ropes inside of you. You're clenching as tight as you can to milk him.

He's a moaning mess against you. He's breathing heavily, and you softly squeeze his ass to help him through his high.

"Make sure you take it all, baby," Harry says as he pushes his cock as deep as he can. "Mmm, never wanna leave. Gonna live in your cunt forever." You giggle, as he chuckles from the sound of you, before sighing.

Harry lays on top of you for a little while longer, whispering sweet nothings and attacking you with kisses, before he captures your lips.

You're sensitive and sore everywhere. Harry softly kneads your body to comfort you through it. He waits until your breathing goes back to normal to relax. Another kiss to your lips as a thank you for allowing him to take care of some much needed release.

"So," you start as Harry sits up on his knees and flips you on your back. He sets back on you, but holds some of his weight by leaning on his elbows. "Are you done being so possessive?" You cock up a playful brow.

Harry rolls his eyes. "Never." Then a wicked smile finds his lips. "Actually, I don't think I'm done."

"What?" You basically gasp when Harry moves down your body. Your legs clench, but Harry is quicker to grab them. "Har—" But you can't finish as you're moaning and arching off the bed once again.

Two more quick orgasms are pulsing out of your cunt as Harry tongues at your cunt and flicks at your sensitive clit. You have to physically push his face away and clench your legs together to stop him.

Your voice is completely gone by the time Harry helps you to the bathroom and gets you ready for bed. When you're both under the covers, Harry enters a sort of sub space, wanting to be held and comforted.

You both lay facing each other—Harry's head is against your breasts that he suckles on, looking up at you with sweet, doe eyes. Your fingers tangle in his hair, which he hums appreciatively at.

"Why were you so jealous today?" You ask him. He only shrugs, pushing further into your breasts, if that was even possible.

"I'm sorry," he answers instead.

"Don't be," You find his jaw to tilt his head up at you. You smile softly, before kissing each of his eyes. "I know it's not easy to share me. Or watch me act in a movie like that. But I would assume it's easy to remember that, at the end of the day, I'll always come back to you."

Harry suddenly feels ashamed that he even thought about you wanting Andrew over him.

"Hey," You get his attention. He starts to apologize, but you shut him up with a kiss. "I want you, Harry Styles. Yesterday, today, tomorrow, and every day after that."

The smile that forms on his face assures you that he understands. "And I want you, Y/N L/N. Yesterday, today, tomorrow, and every day after that."

You suddenly frown. "Uh, you fucking better or I'll be beating some bitch's ass for making you think otherwise."

Harry laughs loudly. His nose shrivels from how hard he does. "And I thought my jealously was bad."

"I deal with woman wanting you every single day, just because you exist. My jealousy is ten times worse than yours." Harry sighs, looking at you longly.

"I guess I should be comforting you every day."

You shake your head. "You do without even noticing. I know you love me."

"More than you will ever know, baby."

You two share a long, silent stare, filled with love that can't translate into words. So, instead, it turns into a kiss that sends you both to sleep.

You're still knocked out when Harry wakes up with a glow to him. He's all smile as he stretches and yawns. He looks over at you, now the little spoon—somehow turning into that position when you both slept.

Harry slips away from you, not without kissing up your neck and jaw. You hum in your sleep with a lazy smile. Harry chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth, before getting out of bed.

He quickly throws on appropriate lounge clothes to leave the room with. He heads downstairs to the breakfast buffet, hoping to find something you'll enjoy. Sometimes you are picky when it comes to breakfast.

When arriving, he sees minimal people there. He walks inside and grabs two plates.

He hums in thought, deciding what to put on your plate. While doing so, he notices another person also scooping up food from the trays.

Andrew Garfield.

But after your conversation last night, Harry doesn't feel that boiling pit of anger in his stomach when he looks at him. He simply shrugs him off and starts making your plate.

Andrew feels another presence and looks over at Harry. The men meet eyes—but the usual tension isn't there.

Andrew suddenly frowns, whipping his head away and continuing to fixate his plate.

"You heard?" Harry speaks up.

Andrew frowns and nods once. “Yeah, I heard.”

Harry smirks, turning away to work on your breakfast. “Good," he says more to himself.

well.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles x yn #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles oneshot #harry styles smut

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dollfacefantasy · 23 days

Text

Beginning to Slip

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem!reader

summary: after watching one of the scream movies, you have some fun with toji and a ghostface mask

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, cnc, size kink, knife play, face slapping, degradation, dacryphilia, mentions of murder and death and ghostface stuff

word count: 3k

a/n: um i had to repost cause if issues with tags. but yes i did write one like this for leon a few months ago but idgaf 🤪 i hope everyone enjoys <3

It had started normal enough. A regular night shared between you and your boyfriend, watching movies in bed as you often would do when you both had the spare time and lack of energy for anything else. After scrolling through the tv for a while, you came across one of the new Scream movies.

“Ooh, I haven’t seen this one yet. Wanna watch with me?” you’d asked him casually, sparing a little glance in his direction.

Toji looked at the screen, scanning the description with mild interest. He shrugged. He’d never shared your affinity for horror, never really saw the appeal of slasher movies, but if it put you in a good mood, why would he say no?

You pressed play and tossed the remote to the side. Your head rests on his chest, splitting your hearing between the actors talking and the steady beat of his heat. He absentmindedly strokes your head. You’re quiet for the first couple scenes. That is until you hear the iconic voice crackling through the opening girl’s phone.

“Why does the killer voice get less hot every movie?” you ask.

A simple, innocuous question. One you had posed to other people when you had watched the film before this one. But to Toji, it isn’t just a passing remark. He raises an eyebrow and looks down at you.

“Hot?”

A smile grows on your lips as you meet his eyes. “Yeah, hot,” you laugh.

“Isn’t it supposed to be scary?” he teases.

“Yeah… but that’s what makes it hot,” you respond, your smile widening, “The voice, the knife, the stuff he says. I don’t know. It’s just kinda…” You squirm a bit, trying to communicate your desires through motions rather than figure out the proper wording.

“Kinda what?” he continues affectionately mocking, “You got a thing for masks too? Want me to rough you up a bit?”

You laugh a little more. “Maybe I do.”

His eyes widen with slight curiosity, but he plays it off in the moment, making a joke of how he didn’t know you were into that kind of thing. But the comment stayed with him. It replayed in his head even after the credits rolled and you fell asleep in his arms. It was still with him the next morning when he woke up.

Toji was by no means innocent. He was familiar with all this kinda stuff. He understood the appeal. That wasn’t what had his mind lingering on the idea as he showered and got ready for the day. He just never expected you, his girlfriend who’d always been so gentle, to want to get rough.

He wasn’t against the concept though. Not at all. Visions of you flooded his mind. You completely ruined beneath him, face wet with tears and drool, hips bruised from his fingers. He was so not against it he had to jerk off in the shower. Thanks to his overactive imagination though, it didn’t take too long. As soon as he got out and dried off, he ordered one of those masks.

He felt silly in the days after, painfully aware of how eager he was for it to arrive. When it finally arrived, he knew it was worth it though. He pulled it out of the bag, letting the black cloth fall into place. The ghoulish face stared back at him as if it knew what it was about to be used for.

That very night he intended to use it. He waited till the evening when you were sprawled across the couch relaxing. Then he snuck off to the bedroom and got dressed up. Donned in his normal black shirt with gray pants, he peered into the eyes of his reflection as he pulled the mask over his head. It sat flawlessly, the fabric pooling around his neck perfectly.

The last item he needs sits inside a drawer on his side of the bed. The knife. He’d had this part handled long before he knew you’d be into it. He takes out his favorite one, the one he knows will look prettiest pressed against your flesh. As he watches it glimmer in the dim light of the bedroom, he knows he’s ready to go.

He struts into the living room, pausing several feet away from you and allowing you to just take it in. He feels a pulse within the confines of his jeans as your eyes sparkle. You sit up slowly, looking him up and down.

“Toji?” you ask, “What… what are you doing?”

“You said you had a thing for masks and knives, yeah? Well I know you got a thing for me too,” he says as he begins to approach you.

He sees how your pupils lock onto the reflective blade. Holding the handle, he points it at you. The flat of the cool metal rests beneath your chin. He applies pressure and directs you to look up at him.

“Do you wanna try this out?” he breathes.

Timidly, you nod.

“I wanna hear you say it,” he says.

“I wanna try it out,” you answer.

“You want me to be rough?”

Another nod.

“How rough?”

“As much as you want,” you say so quietly it sounds close to a whisper.

He stares down at you for a moment, thinking over your answers. His thoughts smash into a mental wall when he hears your next sentence.

“Want you to make me cry,” you say. You’re looking up at him with doe eyes too. How could he resist this offer?

After a few moments of contemplation, he swipes the blade away from your jaw. “Should I give you a head start?” he asks simply.

A chill fizzles down your spine. He didn’t even need a voice mod. He already had the voice of an apex predator. You shake your head at his question, causing him to smile beneath the mask.

“Make the first move then, bunny,” he says.

As quick as you can, you scramble off the couch, ducking under his large arm. He chuckles while making a grab for you. You nearly trip but manage to make it to your feet and bolt down the hallway.

He spins around and follows, hot on your tail. He doesn’t have to run, his long legs carry him fast enough with a simple stride. The thrill of adrenaline pumps from your heart and out through your veins. You dash around different pieces of furniture, trying to prevent the heavy footsteps behind you from getting too close.

You come to a crossroads when the path ahead splits between another hall and the staircase. Without a second thought, you sprint up the stairs in the direction of the bedroom. It was pure instinct, but you know this game is about to reach the main part when you see his body fill the doorway. His chest rises and falls with his breaths. You can feel his eyes on you even if you can’t see them. Like a gazelle caged in with a tiger, you know there’s only one way this will end.

“Up the stairs instead of out the front door,” he tuts with a shake of his head, “An amateur mistake. One that dumb little girls like you always make.”

He stalks closer to you, and in-turn, you back away. Your steps continue until your back bumps the wall. He’s closing in, nearly close enough to pin you to the wall. As a last ditch effort, you dart to your left in the direction of the bed. In your mind, you were going to hop over the mattress and manage to speed past him back out the door.

You don’t get that far because he grabs one wrist and then the next and slams you face down on the bed. With your arms pinned to your back, all you can do is wriggle to try and find a way to slip out. He puts a stop to your squirming quickly though, jerking your wrists upwards and causing you to yelp in discomfort.

“Calm down, angel face. I’m not gonna hurt ya. Not until I have my fun at least,” he purrs.

He runs the tip of the blade along your skin peeking out from where your shirt had risen. There’s not enough pressure to draw blood, only leave you with a sting of anticipation. A shaky sigh leaves you, but you're careful not to move and send the knife piercing through your flesh.

“That’s better,” he hums before pulling the knife away and placing it to the side.

He releases your wrists as well, planning on removing your top next. You don’t make it that simple though. Your arms stretch forward and claw at the blankets to try and drag yourself to the other side of the mattress.

It takes him no effort to wrangle you back into position. His frame is so much larger than yours, it’s like he’s covering every inch of you. Anywhere you try to move, he’s already there. His fingers wrap around your limbs and encapsulate them completely.

He wrestles you still and whips you around onto your back. One of his hands comes up to your throat and sharply jerks your head, bouncing it off the cushioned surface below you.

“That’s a fight you won’t win, little brat,” he breathes as the eyes of the ghostface mask watch your figure.

You resign to be still for a few moments, only minorly fidgeting as he peels your shirt off you. He takes his time. Each second another inch of your body is exposed to him. He drinks in the revelation of your form. He’s so focused, so calculated with his movements that he doesn’t see your arm swinging at him until it collides with the side of the mask, almost knocking it loose.

To him, it was absolutely nothing. He doesn’t even falter. It registers in his mind in the same way a kitten batting its paw would. He stares down at you with a wild grin on his face underneath the white plastic.

His hand leaves your throat and grips your jaw, straightening you out before landing a firm slap on your cheek. He almost breaks and lets out a laugh at the way your hips jump from the contact. He gives you one more on the same cheek before lowering himself closer to you. You feel the cool smoothness of the knife dragging up your stomach and between your breasts as he speaks.

“Count yourself lucky it’s only my hand I’m using,” he taunts before using his free hand to tap your face once more.

The combination of the hits with the low thrum of his voice had you dizzy. Your head feels foggy in the best way as your heart beats faster and your chest rises and falls quicker with your increased breaths. The knife trails along your collarbone. You can feel a light scratch as he presses slightly harder than before. Still not enough to have you spilling crimson, but the right amount to have your panties sticking to your cunt from arousal.

“You gonna be good for me now, or do I need to give you a better reason to be?” he asks, voice right next to your ear. Your blood was running hot as you could hear him breathing under the mask, feel him hard and pressed against your thigh.

“I’ll be good,” you agree. Your voice comes out soft and hazy. He smirks at the state you're in from just a few smacks.

He backs off, rising to his feet again at the side of the bed. He tugs his own shirt over his head and tosses it to the side before dropping his pants. You can nearly feel your eyes dilate as they take in his appearance. No matter how many times you saw it, it never got old. Each ridge and dip in his muscular abdomen and chest looked so familiar but thrillingly new. His cock was a whole other story. The sight of it hanging between his legs had you drooling in more ways than one.

Reaching forward, he yanks you closer to his body by your hips and then tugs your pants off. The forming pile of clothing on the floor grows as he discards them there.

You’re now splayed out on the bed, left only in your panties. He can see the slick that’s soaked the middle of them. Slowly, he grabs the knife again and brings it between your legs. You whimper as you feel the edge of the blade slide up against your clothed center. Your jaw drops and your legs tremble. You stay perfectly still, your eyes trained on the veins on his forearm as he maneuvers the weapon.

“You’d look beautiful covered in red, babydoll,” he

It glides up the thin cloth between your legs and over your pelvis. The tip catches on the elastic waistband. You bite your lip. Your pulse becomes audible to you as the fabric lifts from your body, hooked on the shiny metal.

“Toji,” you whimper. You see the mask tilt up a bit as he glances at your face, but he says nothing. Until the garment snaps, tearing on the sharp point as the pull becomes too taut.

“You’d be the prettiest one yet,” he murmurs, “All marked up. No mistake about who you belong to.”

His fingers come up to the split in your underwear. He rips it in half like it’s nothing, drawing a gasp from you. The shreds of fabric hang from your legs, and he doesn’t bother removing it any further. Enough of you is accessible for his purposes.

Cupping his hands behind your knees, he pushes your legs up beside your stomach. He can’t get enough of how your pussy glistens and drips for him. He drags two fingers through your folds before gripping his cock and stroking it a few times. He lines up at your entrance and looks down at you for a moment.

“You ready for me, doll?” he asks.

But before you can answer, he shoves himself all the way inside, filling you completely with one stroke. The motion tears a loud cry from your lungs while a cruel laugh comes from him. You try to muffle it by covering your mouth, your own palm flying to your lips. He rips it away though and pins it back on the mattress as he starts thrusting.

“Don’t try to keep that shit from me. The sounds might be the best part,” he grunts, “I’d bet you’d sound the same if I was slicing you up instead of just fucking you stupid.”

Your eyes roll back as another moan springs free. Constant whimpers come next, intermingling with the creak of the bed. He’s not giving you time to adjust like normal, he’s getting right into it, hard and fast.

His skin slaps against yours, and you grip at his biceps, nails digging into the skin. His head tilts back as he sighs at the small stings. One set of fingers dig into your leg with a bruising hold while the other hand returns to your throat. He holds it, using it for leverage to continue drilling into you with no mercy.

It’s ruthless. You’re left gasping for air as your body bobs with the force of his movements. Your walls tighten up and release, struggling to accept the size of him still. Only the cusps of words can breach your lips. Nothing coherent makes it through.

Tears prick at your eyes as everything else in the world fades to the background. Your lashes flutter as you try to keep them in. They finally spill as his hand connects with your cheek again in a small tap.

“I asked you a question,” he growls into your ear.

“What?” you whimper as warm beads roll from the corners of your eyes, down your temples.

The sight of your glossy eyes looking up at him is almost enough to push him over the edge but he refrains and keeps slamming into your wanting hole.

“I asked if you were crying yet, but I think you have that answered,” he says.

“Oh,” you whine simply.

Your cries become more audible while your lips remain permanently parted, an endless cycle of mewls and whimpers seeping out between sobs.

You’re trembling and sucking him in more than before. His head has dropped to the crook of your neck as his breaths have morphed into harsh puffs. You’re both close and each of you knows this.

Your shaky hand rises to the back of his head, pushing the mask up over his head and letting his smooth black locks fall free. The mask falls off him onto the bed as he brings his head up to look into your eyes.

“Wanna see you when you finish me off,” you choke out.

He grins when hears that and presses his sweaty forehead to yours. “Any last words?” he asks.

One final shake of your head, and you explode from him. You scream as the pleasure courses through you. He locks his digits around you and presses his face harder against yours. The only time it was ok for your sounds to be hushed was when it was caused by his lips on yours.

He keeps fucking you hard and fast, only cumming himself as the overstimulation begins to set in for you. His cum floods your insides as he groans into your mouth. His body continues to roll rhythmically through the whole thing.

When he is done, he practically passes out on top of you. You push on him a little bit but not too hard. Being pinned beneath him was far from the worst thing in the world. He doesn’t move though. You’re kinda shocked he even pulls out with how unresponsive he was to you at the moment. You only know he’s still conscious from the tender way he holds your waist and the kisses he’s lavishing on your neck where his fingers had once been.

You decide this position is as good as any and lazily grab the tv remote which laid in its usual spot next to your pillow. With a few clicks of a button, you’ve got the first Scream turned on. You wrap your arms around Toji and nuzzle his head in return, content to drift off tangled together to the sounds of Drew Barrymore being slaughtered.

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro imagine #toji fushiguro smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut

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