#directional tattoos

[cupid-styles]

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

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

part of the tattoorry/plugrry world

word count: 3k

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

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

"Wait, you're being serious?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What do you mean, the right person?"

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

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

"What about me?" 

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

"What piercings would look good on me?"

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

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

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

"Anything would, you're gorgeous."

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

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

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

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

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

"Really?"

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

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

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

"Huh?"

She sighs frustratedly, "My boobs!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Of course."

"Would you do it, then?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Right, these simple pink barbels, hm?" 

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

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

She nods again. 

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

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

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

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

"Do you do that for every client?"

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

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

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

"Not insane."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[puppyeared]

wanna see a magic trick? 🪄🎩

[imjestergirl]

Smoke break 😤🫠

You’re her favorite workout routine

[harrywavycurly]

It’s been 8 years since Harry said “I mean…” and slapped his box closed on tattoo roulette while Niall recovered from a panic attack right next to him and I’ve thought about it everyday since.

[oooocleo]

tattoo commission sketches and loose linework tests from today 🤲  my ffxiv oc odile on the left and sura on the right!

[stelloulas]

— happy birthday mi rayo de luz 🌟

[imaginal-ai]

"Flower Boy in Cut-Offs" (0002)

(More of The Beach Bum Series)

0001

[harry-styles-obsessed]

Request: hi! Please could you write something about y/n being Harry’s photographer?

Thank you for the request. Enjoy!(:

©️ please do not copy or translate my work.

The photographer

When you first received the offer to become the Harry styles’ photographer you were excited— nervous of course. But extremely excited. He had been your inspiration for many years, ever since you were little. His prior photographers were used in your college photography class. Studying their projects and their amazing photography of the gorgeous green eyed man. But yet here you were now camera wrapped around your neck, sat on your bed truly debating your life decisions. You should’ve known this was a bad idea… harry was charming and sweet exactly how he was on stage and in interviews. Sweet, lovely, compassionate, funny… you should’ve known he would capture your heart in more than just one way.

You silently looked through the pictures you had taken last night, admiring each one, admiring how beautiful he was in the photos you took. It was almost a fan girl moment for you as you remained sat on your bed cross legged. You had now been his photographer for six weeks and each day that passed grew more exciting. It opened your eyes to so many things… but it also alerted you to the fact that he still made your heart race. You were currently in Harry’s tour bus the chatter of the band being heard— Harry often times just stayed in a hotel close to the place he was performing at. You believed it was managements doing as they had, had a few times where stalkers had attempted to break into the tour bus to get a quick photo with Harry styles. It left the man shaken.

“Y/n!”

A sudden voice called. Mitch. “Mitch” you responded back calmly, keeping your eyes on the camera before the curtain was pulled firmly to the right Mitch lowering down to look into your bunk his eyes locking onto you still flicking through the pictures “hey.” You finally looked up smiling “hi.” He rolled his eyes playfully “Sarah and I are headed to grab some lunch, you want anything?” You paused momentarily thinking to yourself before eventually shaking your head “no thanks. Thank you for the offer though.” Mitch only smiled, closing the curtain for you again as you heard multiple footsteps leave the tour bus. You sighed softly continuing to flick through the pictures you took. About ten minutes passed before you heard movement come from the living room of the bus— you hesitantly poked your head out cautiously staring at where the sound came from but saw nothing. Weird.

You however then shook it off, instead getting up off of your bunk drawing the curtain closed quietly as you began moving towards the sound camera dangling against your stomach as you cautiously made your way towards the sound but you saw no one and nothing. You were almost certain someone was playing a trick on you until all of a sudden you heard an abrupt and loud sound followed by a few mumbled obscenities your eyes sliding towards the culprit yet as your eyes fell upon the person your mouth got dry as bone. Harry stood facing the desk in the room, the sound of the crash being a bunch of pleasing nail polishes strewn all over the place— some on the floor, and the others all around him but that wasn’t what got your attention… no. But rather his back. Shoulder blades sharp. Skin slightly tanned, tattoos littering up and down his arms taking your breath away… he was in full view. All for you to take in…

Your hands trembled slightly as you silently flicked your camera on, bringing the view finder up to your eye as you focused the lens on harry before snapping the picture your breath hitching in your throat as you stared at the image you had just captured.

He was literally perfect. His skin glowing in the dim light, your lips parting in utter admiration. He was beautiful. As you remained staring at the picture you failed to notice the sound of footsteps silently getting closer to you, until eventually you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat making your head snap up your eyes widening as you came face to face with Harry— amusement flickering in his eyes, green eyes warm and soft the amusement growing. “Oh- harry- hi…” you smiled sheepishly, Harry tilting his head slightly as he smirked down at you dimples appearing “kind of creepy sneaking around so quietly. Don’t you think? You’ve always got that camera in your hands… I’m starting to think you’re obsessed with me.” Harry’s words were teasing, playful, his eyes twinkling with mischief as you couldn’t help but blush.

“That’s quite an accusation, harry.” You murmured blushing harshly watching as he stretched one hand out to grab a hold of the camera slowly lifting it from your hand, pulling the strap over your head before he clicked on the small photograph icon the picture you had snapped immediately popping up. “Hm…” you could feel the tension grow. You had always felt some sort of attraction to him which always made the tension between the both of you almost impossible to ignore. “There’s a slight wave in this picture” he spoke, eyes finding yours as he smiled slightly “usually your hands are so steady, y/n.” You felt your heart race watching as he flicked through multiple photos noticing the difference from the ones on stage to the one just now… it was clear your hands weren’t steady just a moment ago. Harry wasn’t often to mess with you or even tease you, but he couldn’t help himself…

“Do I make you nervous, y/n.”

His words made your cheeks flush red a shaky breath leaving your lips “what— no…” you spoke avoiding eye contact Harry letting out a small chuckle “look me in the eyes and tell me that.” His words were playful, yet the way he told you demanding you to look at him it awoke something within you “harry—“ “look me in the eyes and tell me…” your eyes slowly flicked up to meet his an almost cocky smirk on his beautiful face “you…. You make me nervous.” You spoke without even thinking. “Is that so?” He asked closing the space between the two of you as he gazed down at you your eyes remaining on his as he got closer and closer until there was almost no room to breathe normally. You held your breath staring into his eyes the cockiness on his face soon being wiped off as he stared at you— your eyes searching his your breath remaining to be held as his slender fingers touched lightly against your hips “do-do you want help painting your nails?” You asked quietly feeling a different tension now surround you both.

“I would… but I think you’d be trembling too much to paint them in a straight line.” He spoke a soft chuckle leaving his lips as your eyes searched his and his eyes searched yours before eventually his hand trailed up to cup your cheek thumb brushing against your cheek as you watched as he leaned in towards you— lips inches away from touching, your breath shaking- chest raising and falling quickly—

“We’re back!!” A voice shouted Harry immediately pulling away the warmth he provided you for those few moments drove you wild your eyes remaining wide as you stared at him before he casually placed the camera back back around your neck his eyes searching yours before he cracked a smile before focusing back on Sarah who handed him what was most likely fish and chips her forcing the same thing into your hands. “Sarah I told you not to” you whined the kind woman shrugging and grinning “too late.” She spoke, everyone bidding Harry goodbye Harry waving at you as he went to leave before pausing multiple nail polishes gripped in his free hand “oh and y/n..” you nodded at him to continue “can you send me that picture?” You felt your heart skip a beat and you smiled, biting down on your lower lip “you’ll have to earn it, styles” you spoke the look flashing across Harry’s face being slight confusion which was soon turned into amusement before he chuckled shaking his head “oh I’ll earn it.”

The concert was about twenty minutes away and you were walking into the stadium, ‘HS photographer’ lanyard wrapped around your neck as you snapped a few photos of fans dressed in their brightly coloured outfits before you made your way towards backstage— entering the building that was busy filled with people working, making sure the microphones were working but also checking the sound of all the instruments. You said hi to a few people continuing to take random pictures until eventually entering your dressing room only for the door you came through slam shut, forcing you to turn around on your heels your eyes finding Harry’s. He didn’t say anything, he was wearing his outfit for that night— a purple dungarees set… he looked fucking magical. He slowly walked towards you steps intimidating and dangerous as he studied your face walking towards you one time watching you take a step back every time. Exactly what he wanted until you were eventually up against the wall trapped between the wall and Harry, your lips parted in awe as the man studied your every reaction a small smirk tugging at his lips before he without even hesitating grabbed your hips tightly the fierce grip making your knees weak as he kissed you deeply, the kiss full of fire and heat as he kept a tight grip on you— your lips moulding together with his perfectly as he kissed you deeply your hands touching against him gently and hesitantly, touching from his arms, tracing his tattoos and up his skin and to his hair tugging lightly as you both messily made out for what seemed like hours… time passed far too quick for your liking… your lips slightly red and swollen from his kissing— him pulling away from you making you frown. Wanting him close again as he tightened his grip on your waist peering down at you as the crowd screamed the starting music for ‘music for a sushi restaurant’ starting up a glow forming in Harry’s eyes as he smirked at you, his hands stroking up and down your hips delicately his touch igniting a heat within you making you want to do anything and everything for him….

“Have I earned it yet?”

He questioned a smirk playing on his lips watching as you mindlessly nodded your head his smile growing “good…” he gave your hips one last squeeze before heading towards the dressing room door where he opened the door the screams growing louder, before he turned back to look at you “don’t go back to the tour bus..” he spoke your brows arching in slight confusion “come back to my hotel room.” Your brows raised slightly “w-what…?”

“You heard me… besides I’m sure you’ll take great photos tonight. I want to see them all.” He spoke with a devilish smirk a sharp breath leaving your lips and he let out a low chuckle…

“We can take more pictures tonight too…” your eyes widened slightly “harry!” “Y/n.” He smirked laughing “I’m being serious. If you aren’t in my room by the end of the night then I’ll come drag you there myself.” He spoke before exiting the room making your breath hitch… no way that just happened. Your fingers touched against your lips as you smiled like an idiot, he had truly awoken a different side of you…. You weren’t ever desperate for anyone… but Harry made you desperate. You were drunk on him already and he hadn’t even done anything… you were only the photographer but clearly you were about to become so much more.

[pigeonneaux]

Let him have a fucking break or whatever

[sunshineandlyrics]

Heh

[cupid-styles]

only angel (tattoo artist/plug harry)

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

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

word count: 10.2k (!!!!)

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

masterlist | talk to me

part two

. . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You have an appointment?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Uh... am I allowed to?"

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

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

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

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

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

"You coming, then? Y/N, right?" 

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

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

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

. . .

Mai's tattoo comes out beautiful.

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

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

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

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

"How do you know Mai?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't."

"Yeah, but—"

"Y/N?"

"What?"

"Stop it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

Remember what I said about apologizing, princess?

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

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

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

. . .

"Where were you yesterday?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. . .

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

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

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

That is the plan, anyway.

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

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

How's the piercing holding up? 

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

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

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

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

Good girl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N: okay:) 

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

. . .

Harry knows he's pushing it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, is parking that bad?"

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

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

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

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

"Kind of. I don't know."

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

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

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

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

"I guess."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sorry," Harry mumbles.

"Oh. It's okay."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah. 's okay."

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

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

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

. . .

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

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

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

"Harry!" 

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

"Yeah?"

"Jude's here!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Harry!" 

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

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

"Okay. You said you were curious?"

She nods.

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

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

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

"And what does it do?"

"Like how does it make me feel?"

She nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"A little bit." 

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

"Oh." She breathes out. 

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

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

"I want this. I want you." She says. 

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

. . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And the kissing... yeah. 

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

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

"Can I feel you under here, dove?"

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

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

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

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

"Where, princess?"

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

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

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

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

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

"No."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes," she nods, "Please."

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

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

"J-just for you." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're— you're being mean—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y-yes." she whispers.

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

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

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

"Yeah. Okay."

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

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

She shakes her head. "N-no."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Please cum for me, daddy."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Um... this is my mom."

read part two here!

[freelouisankles]

x.

[mumblesplash]

haunted by the minuscule but nonetheless real possibility that i one day go to some sort of mc fan convention and meet someone with a hope poem tattoo drinking out of a minecraft bloodsports mug who has no clue they were both created by the same person

[inzedits]

• if you use or save please like :) x

[moonchildstyles]

What Consumes my mind🥺🤍:

1-aster fingering angel for the first time

2- older h edging pretty girl and calling her good girl every time she listens to him and doesn’t cum

Thank you,

Your loyal reader 💞

Fingering is aster and angel’s thing soooo it’s only fair to see how they did it the first timeeeeeee no? 🥺💕💕💕💕

wordcount: 4.5k+

—————

Fitting his thigh between (Y/N)'s legs, Harry watched as her mouth dropped into a gape at the pressure against her clit. With her snuggled into his side, he was allowed a perfect view of her body's reactions to each of his touches. There was nothing like seeing her experience this kind of pleasure for the first time, especially knowing it was his doing. 

"Daddy," she gasped, lips slicked with spit and swollen from his kiss. 

"'M here, baby, I've got you," he crooned to her as she rolled her hips over his thigh. Petite whines and breathy cries fell from her lips as she chased that impact against her center once more, her movements clumsy and stuttered. "Sound so pretty like this, angel. So pretty I think you're gonna make me cum jus' listening to you." 

The faint beginnings of a smile touched at the edges of her lips, Harry already able to hear the thank you she was sure to peep out since she was such a polite girl for him. Of course that was before he made a point to nudge his knee up between her legs, the hard muscles that corded his thigh pressing tightly against her center. That smile she had been working up dropped from her features, her already closed eyes squeezing tightly together with her lashes bunching together. 

A choked call of his title made its way out of her mouth, the whine falling quietly between them before it was swallowed with the sound of her gasps and the messy kisses Harry pressed to her neck. "That's it, angel. Such a good girl for daddy, aren't you?" 

He knew his question would go unanswered, but Harry didn't mind as he tightened his arm around her waist, the bed underneath his hold cushioning his bicep as he tugged her flush against his chest. (Y/N)'s hands that fisted his shirt had a grip that he swore could tear at the fabric if he pushed her hard enough, but whatever she needed from him in that moment—even if it was a shred of his shirt—it was hers to have. 

As she ground her hips into his thigh, finding a rhythm that stole her breath and wound her stomach tight, Harry traced his free hand over her form. Starting at the curve of her throat, he touched at the ledge of her collarbones, tracing the line with his thumb before dropping further down to the mounds of her breasts. Through her borrowed shirt (his of course, that she stole from his closet for their impromptu sleepover), he felt the peak of her nipples under the fabric. Her chest heaved under his hands as he brushed the pads of his finger over the bud, back arching as if to the curve of her body into his hand. As much as Harry wanted to linger over her breasts, he knew she needed him more elsewhere. 

Following the line of her body, the dip of her waist and the flare of her hip, he settled his hand over the her soft thigh, the one that was hitched over his own as she worked herself into a tizzy. The chipping black of his nail polish gleamed over the full of her thigh, his fingertips denting into the flesh as he held her. The hem of her top was brushed aside as Harry pushed his way underneath, the fabric catching on his wrist as he grazed her bare skin until he hit the waist of her panties. 

With nothing more than a tiny, white cotton thong covering her center, Harry took his time tracing over the fabric in brushes of his fingertips. Her skin was warm with every touch he granted to her body, her tummy jumping when he dared to tickle over the soft skin just above the waist of her underwear. Each stilted breath she let out, Harry could feel as he kissed over the column of her throat. 

"Want me to touch you, angel?" he murmured against her skin, the tip of his nose skimming the line of her jaw. 

"Pl-Please," she panted, nodding her head with clumsy jerks. 

With a smug smile working its way over his lips, Harry told her, "You've got to settle down for me then, yeah? Let me get m'hand in your panties, then y'can squirm for me." 

When her clumsy rhythm came to a stop, Harry praised her with a kiss to her cheek, a murmuring of how good of a girl she was for him while his fingertips plucked at the delicate material of her underwear. Bypassing the tiny bow embedded at the top, Harry slid his hand underneath the fabric. With that first dip he was met with her budding clit and slick wetness seeping over her slit. Her underwear clung to her form as he pried his hand in-between, taking on the job of nudging over her clit in tender presses while his thigh became nothing more than a wedge to keep her legs parted for him.

At the first graze of his touch over her core, (Y/N) let out a shuddering sigh, her body all but melting into his hold. Soft slick noises sounded from between her legs as he ran his finger through her slit in a teasing run. He felt a little too satisfied that all it took was some kissing with her on his lap to get her so riled up before he even dared to wedge his thigh between her legs. She was so sensitive for him. 

"Baby," he cooed to her, stamping his lips over her cheek as he played with her clit in dizzying circles, "You're so wet for me, I can hear it." 

Burying her face in his neck, (Y/N) clutched his shirt tightly in her grip as she hid. "Sorry," she peeped against his throat. 

"Don't be sorry for that, silly," he told her, a lopsided grin taking his features as he played with her, "I love how wet y'get for me; so fucking sexy, you know that?" 

What a sweetheart, she was, thinking she needed to apologize for being so wet for him he could slip inside without any resistance. His arm rounding her form tightened as he held her to him, her chest pressed to him with each stuttered breath she took in. He swore he could even feel the whispers of her lips against his neck as she mouthed out calls for her daddy. 

The cotton of her panties was tight around his hand as he played with her, slicking her wetness all over her with nudges to her clit and prods at her weepy hole he tasted just this morning. He could feel her contract around nothing every time he dared to get close to her opening, the same way she clenched around his tongue before he sent her off to her art history class after their morning in bed. She was always so tight, even just around his tongue when he managed to slip it inside. It made his cock ache just thinking about someday being inside her. 

Smearing his thumb over her clit and earning a breathy moan from (Y/N) that melted against his skin, Harry found himself getting lost in the idea of truly feeling her for the first time. Her snug walls hugging him as he split her open for the first time, the way she would flutter around him with her breathless moans sounding like music to his ears. He would be able to feel every shudder that ran down her spine, the tightening of her tummy before it became too much and she couldn't help but release around him. Harry loved eating her out—he would do it for hours on end if he thought his angel could handle it—but there was something to be said about the feel of her coming around him as opposed to on his face that he ached to experience. 

Hugging her close, Harry dared to edge his finger down her slit, his palm pressed to her clit. The pad of his middle finger prodded at her fluttery opening, fitting just the very tip inside for a breath before he pulled away and instead traced over the hole. (Y/N) stiffened as he did so, her spine straightening under his palm, her chest expanding with an intake of air fast enough Harry felt the rush against his skin.

His brow pinched at her reaction, not having expected her to get so stiff at the small intrusion. He hadn't wanted to make her uncomfortable. 

Worried he'd scared her, Harry ran his hand over her back in soothing runs. "Sorry, baby, jus' wanted to see something. Won't do it again, alright?" 

A beat passed as Harry slowed his playing with her, giving her a moment to recover and think clearly incase she wanted him to stop for the night. Instead, he was granted with a quiet whine into his neck before a "Why not?" peeped through her lips. 

Pulling his hand from her panties, Harry settled his palm on her hip. Loosening his hold around her waist, he pulled back just enough to get a look at her face. Unpeeling herself from her hiding spot in his neck, (Y/N) looked at him with glossy eyes and tangled lashes, lips swollen and spit-slicked. 

"Wh-Why'd you stop, daddy?" she questioned, eyes dreamy as she took him.

A soft smile worked its way on his lips as he gazed down at her, but he urged himself to stay serious. As much as he wanted to sink into a kiss with her, he needed to talk to her first before they kept going. No matter what he wanted, communication came first when he did anything with his angel.

"Jus' needed to talk to you for a second, angel. Is that alright?" 

(Y/N) gave him a small nod of her head, her pretty eyes dropping to his chin as he avoided his gaze. "Is it about what you tried before we stopped?" 

"It is, yeah," he crooned to her, waiting for her gaze to flick up and match his own before he continued. As soon as he caught sight of her blown pupils, he gave her an encouraging smile. "I thought I scared you, baby, that's why I said I wouldn't try it again. But, it sounded like y'didn't want me to stop." 

At the avenue of conversation he opened up, (Y/N)'s gaze fell from his again, settling on the sliver of his lip ring. He gave her a moment before he gave a squeeze to her hip to grab her attention. 

Her gaze had mellowed some when he saw them again, the frame of her lashes only doing so much to brighten her eyes as she looked up at him. "I'm sorry," she started, her hands on his chest loosening the grip on his top and smoothing the wrinkles she caused, "If you don't want to try again, you don't have to. You didn't scare me when you did it, I just wasn't expecting it. It—I"—(Y/N) stumbled over her words, floundering with a pinch in her brow—"I kind of liked it, I think, but if you didn't, its okay. You don't have to do it again." 

Sometimes Harry worried she was going to break his heart when she talked like that. His sweet, shy girl that worried endlessly about what he wanted despite the fact she still had to learn what her own body responded to. He could take care of himself just fine, but he liked knowing she was there constantly thinking about him the same way he thought about her. 

"Yeah? Y'liked it?" he pressed, ducking his head and finally indulging in a press of his lips against the corner of her mouth, "Liked when I put m'finger in a little?" 

"Mhm," she sighed, turning her head just so that she caught his lips in a kiss. The contact was indulging as he slotted his lips between hers and chanced a trace of his tongue over her bottom lip. She tasted just as sweet as the cranberry juice she sipped on during dinner, every sweep of his tongue over her own giving him another heady taste of his lover. 

"Want me to do it again?" he asked against her parted lips, "See if y'really like it?" 

"Please," was her proper response, "I want you so bad." 

"I know, I know," he crooned to her, his hand on her hip sliding over her skin before slipping under the familiar cotton of her panties, "Was so mean to you, taking m'hand out of your panties. Don't want to be mean to y'anymore, angel, jus' wanna make y'happy and cum for me. Can y'do that?" 

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she breathed against his lips, her hands on his chest drifting up until she cupped his jaw on either side of his face. The tips of her fingers breached the baby curls bordering his hairline as she held him steady before her, keeping her lips pressed to his own in the familiar contact she craved from him. 

"Promise to tell me if 's too much, angel." 

"I will, I will—I promise," she rushed out, parting her legs further as Harry fit his palm over her clit and traced his fingers through her slit. 

Her gasps and coos mixed perfectly with the sound of her slick parting around Harry's fingers, the pearl of her clit given a gentle treatment with the rolls of his palm. Just like before, he traced his fingers over her opening, reveling in every flutter of her walls he could feel as he did so. 

Fitting the tip of his finger in again, he took his time as he sunk it in up to the first knuckle. A shuddering sigh made its way out of (Y/N)'s throat, her spine stiffening against just as she did the first time. Harry stalled where he was, wiggling his finger just enough for her to feel it, test if she really wanted him to continue. 

"M-More," she stuttered against his kiss, "Please, daddy." 

"'S alright, angel, 'm right here," he soothed her, fighting through the tight resistance that greeted him as he slid his middle finger deeper inside, "'M gonna give y'what y'want, don't worry." 

It wasn't until he bottomed out, with the full length of his middle finger wrapped in her warmth up to the knuckle that her body grew lax again. He waited as she melted into his chest, her breathing coming in deep breaths as she sunk into the pillow cushioning her head. Her hands stationed on his jaw slid down his body until she was back where she started with her palms flat against his chest, though this time she made her way under the fabric of his half-buttoned top and touched at his bare skin. Her fingertips dented into his tattooed skin with every roll of her clit he gave from his palm, allowing her time to get used to the feeling of him being inside her. 

"Still like it, angel?" he questioned, dropping his head to kiss at her chin as her eyes fluttered closed. Her hair was a messy halo on the pillow, matching the dewy sheen that began to collect on the height of her cheeks and the warm puffs of air that made their way out of her mouth.

"Uh-huh," she breathed, craning her neck to allow Harry more room to kiss over her skin and trace the curve of her throat with his tongue, "Ple-Please move." 

"Yeah?" His satisfied smile was stamped against her skin as he listened to her breathless request. What a good girl she was, telling him just what she wanted—with a please, too. 

Before she could whine out anymore, Harry retracted his finger just right to brush against the spongy soft spot by her opening, a touch that had her squirming in his hold. Stroking through her wetness, Harry began to thrust his finger in and out in a rhythm he could only hope to have held when he ate her out with his tongue. He could reach angles in her he was just learning made her tummy jump or her eyes squeeze shut; touch her farther walls that had her fluttering and whining around him, aching for him to keep going and keep giving her what she needed. Just as he had daydreamed about, despite how snug and tight she was, every thrust of his finger opened her up until he was welcomed in with slick noises and her wetness beginning to pool at his knuckle. 

"Daddy!" she whined when he gave a particularly dragging skim of his finger over her soft spot, her chest arching with her head thrown back. 

With his teeth skating over the ledge of her collarbones, Harry couldn't hold back the smug grin that fit itself over his features. It never got old hearing her call him that; the prettiest voice in the world saying his favorite name. 

"'M here, baby," he reassured her, taking his lips down to the neckline of her top, "I've got you."

The scoop cut was large enough he got to taste the expanse of her décolletage before the soft tops of her breasts were concealed by the worn, grey material. The covering didn't stop him as he worked his way lower, kissing her through her borrowed shirt until he fit his chin between her breasts. The length of his lashes brushed the fabric as he kissed over the swell of her breast, finding her peaked nipple budding through the material. Harry didn't hesitate to press his mouth to her nipple, kissing her through her shirt with her bud fit delicately between his lips. 

(Y/N) gasped as she arched her back, as if presenting her chest for more of his affection. With his hand flexing between her legs, the cotton panties cradling him tightly against her pussy, he didn't have it in him to care about the layer of material separating him from her bare skin when he peeked his tongue out to lick over her nipple. His kisses turned messy and wet over her chest, a damp patch growing and clinging to her peak as he licked her through her borrowed shirt. Between her legs, Harry got a front row seat to how this made her feel, every sucking fluttering of her walls proving just how much he was effecting her. 

His hand was soaked by the time he moved to her other breast, satisfied with the wet patch he was leaving behind with her nipple tight and hard underneath. She was close, he could feel it in the way she was squirming over his hand and arching into him. But, she wasn't close enough. 

Pulling away from her covered breast with a pop, the fabric already beginning to sport a wet spot in the shape of his kiss, Harry peered up at her through his lashes. Her pretty face was lost in the pleasure, tipped back with her mouth dropped in a gape and hair messy. She was close, but not close enough to make those noises he wasn't even sure she was aware she made when she was about to come; whiny breaths full of his name and title that seemed like her thoughts just falling from her lips. He needed to hear that, know that he was making her feel as good as he possibly could. He needed to make her cum—someone this pretty deserves every bit of pleasure he could give her. 

"Gonna give y'another finger, alright?" he crooned her to, softening his tone with a kiss pressed to the curve of her chest, "Think y'need a little more, don't you?" 

"Mhm," she whined, her hands on his chest skating over his skin as she grabbed for his shoulders with the ends of his curls becoming tangled in her grip, "Please, please, daddy. I'm so close." 

"I know y'are, darling. 'M gonna make y'cum, baby," he told her, dotting his lips over her chest as he focused his attention on maneuvering his index finger into the fold. 

In an attempt to distract her from what he was sure was going to be a bit of an uncomfortable stretch at first, he attached his lips to her nipple through her shirt again. He licked and kissed at the peak as he retracted his middle finger fully, only to add his index and slip back inside in a smooth motion. He palmed her clit as he met her snug walls, an even tighter fit now that there was more of him to split her open. Her breathing stuttered as he pushed in to the hilt, his palm growing more and more wet as he distracted her with his touch on her clit while he waited for her to adjust. 

One of (Y/N)'s hands she had on his shoulder drifted up into his hair, giving her something to grab onto while he kissed and licked at her chest in an attempt to combat the pinching feeling between her legs. The longer he stalled, the more squirmy she became, thighs aching to clench around his hand though the wedge of his own leg remained.

"What's wrong, angel?" he murmured, meeting her mouth with his in a calming kiss. 

"Please, please, please move," she begged him, her nose nudging against his as she hugged herself tight to his chest with an arm hooked around his neck with the other staying tangled in his hair. 

"I will, I will," he soothed her, drawing his mouth across her cheek, "'M sorry, angel, thought y'needed a minute." 

She shook her head, eyes squeezed shut. "No, no. I'm so close, please let me cum, daddy." 

Harry caught her lips in a kiss as he started stroking his fingers through her walls, not wanting to bother with any other response than giving her what she wanted. With her chest pressed against his, he could feel every stuttery breath filter through her lungs, the rhythm emulating that of her fluttering walls that urged him back in with every stroke back and press against her soft spot. Her hips shifted with every thrust, meeting him in clumsy rolls. 

It was when she pulled away from his kiss and started letting out those whiny gasps, that he knew she was only a second away from cumming for him. Her grip in his hair was tight, tugging at his scalp, but Harry liked the pinpricking pain, especially knowing that it was because of how good he was making her feel. 

"Gonna cum for me, angel?" he crooned her, his words being murmured against her parted lips. 

Only managing a nod of her head, (Y/N) panted against his mouth, their lips only touching now without a kiss to occupy them. Harry sped up his hand over her clit and his fingers in her pussy, his hold around her waist keeping her tight to him as she worked up to her high. Her chest heaved against his, the wet spots over her nipples brushing over his skin and subsequently dragging the material over her peaks. 

"Cum for daddy, baby. Make me happy."

It was that final encouragement that had her walls tightening around his fingers and thighs tensing around his hand, making it that much harder for him to move inside her despite the extra wetness that seeped around him. His knuckles were coated in her wetness as she gasped into his mouth, sobs of breath fanning across his skin as she came and came for him just like he wanted from her. 

"Good girl, angel, keep cumming for me," he murmured, smearing his palm over her clit as he coaxed her through her orgasm. 

"Daddy," she peeped, voice small as it mixed with the slick sound of her cum seeping out over his stroking fingers. "Thank you." 

That made Harry smile, tipping his chin to press his lips to hers no matter how clumsy the kiss was. "You're so cute, baby. Love you so much." 

Her hand in his hair unraveled the closer she came to joining him back on earth, her fluttering walls now resorting to only small aftershocks that had her gasping. As much as he wanted to keep playing with her, feel her warmth spread over his hand as he kept her cumming and cumming for him, he knew that wasn't a good idea for tonight. Instead, Harry slipped his hand out from her as soon as he figured the pleasure she once felt from his touch was turning into something painful, his slick palm settling over her hip. 

The first thing (Y/N) managed to say with a clear mind was, "I love you, too, H," just before she was reciprocating his kiss with a proper pucker of her lips. Harry's own stomach warmed at the sentiment. 

If there was something he loved more than hearing her whine and gasp for him, it was her sharing her love with him. He'd never loved anyone or anything the way he loved (Y/N), and it almost broke his heart from how full he felt whenever he was reminded that she felt the same way. (Though he was sure he loved her more, as per every cheesy argument he had with her over the subject). 

"Did so good for me, you know that?" he praised her, nudging his nose against hers in a puppy's kiss, "Tried something new tonight and y'were so brave and sweet for me. So proud of you, angel." 

Her breathing slowed to deep intakes as opposed to the shallow puffs she could only manage with his hand down her panties. "I didn't—I wasn't sure I was going to like that, but it felt really good, Harry. Thank you." 

A breathy laugh fell from his lips before he pressed his kiss to her cheek, denting into the soft skin with his love. "See, you're so brave, letting me try something on you even if y'were a little nervous." 

(Y/N) looped her arms around his neck before she shifted her legs, wrapping herself entirely around Harry. He didn't hesitate before reciprocating her hug, tucking his face into the crook of her neck as he allowed her to anchor herself to him. She still hadn't gotten used to the after feeling whenever he made her cum—that dizzy, brain rattling feeling as she tried to get her bearings and come back to the real world as her priorities shifted—and he wanted to give her every bit of support she needed to come down. 

His hand under her shirt ran a soothing path over her side, tracing the curve of her waist and the ladder of her ribs before heading back down to the flare of her hips. She grew more and more pliant the longer he soothed her, his rhythmic touches and cradling hold being enough to get his girl sleepy again (though that wasn't that hard of a job as he'd come to find out). 

"Tired, baby?" The only response he got back was a quiet hum of confirmation, her legs tangling further through his as she got comfortable—never once breaking their hug, of course. Before she could get too comfortable, Harry began unraveling himself from her hold, giving a kiss to her temple as she clung to him. "Go to sleep, angel, I'll be right back, okay?" 

"Where are you going?" she cried, her eyes blinking open with a wide set that matched the pout of her lips, "You're not supposed to leave." 

"I know," he crooned, giving her another kiss to the tip of her nose as he unlatched her arms around his neck, "but I need to go shower, and get y'some new panties for tonight." 

Her pout only deepened at his reasoning. "Do you really have to shower right now? I thought we were going to keep cuddling." 

"We will when 'm done, angel," he promised, standing to the full of his height as he got off the bed, "But I need to take care of myself before I have y'climbing all over me again." 

A cinch appeared between her brows, her next question budding on her lips just before she scanned her eyes down his form and stopped on the bulge at the front of his pants. Harry quirked a brow at her when she dared to match his eyes. 

"Oh." 

Dropping another kiss to the top of her head, Harry let out a short laugh. "Yeah 'oh', baby. 'M gonna be right back, promise it's not gonna take me long at all." 

With that, (Y/N)'s eyes glued to his back the whole way, Harry made his way to the bathroom with a smug smile on his lips.

—————

it was so fun to think back to the very beginning of their relationship w this one so I super hope everyone enjoyed it as much as I do:) thank u sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes! if you have any ideas or requests of your own please send them in !

[maggins]

“For Flapjack?”

“For Flapjack.”