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sleepyhollands · 9 months

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false god

PAIRING harry styles x reader

SUMMARY harry’s having trouble finding enough time to spend with y/n, even after she drops everything and joins him on tour. when they talk, they only seem to argue. when they don’t, they only seem to fuck.

WARNINGS she’s an angsty one— lots of miscommunication, poorly executed arguments, and general couple fighting content. BUT!! there is lots of really cute fluff at the end :> also, beware of smutty content such as soft!dom harry (my favorite), oral (f!receiving, implied m!receiving), unprotected p in v, a brief hesitation to get naked on y/n’s part, an even more brief mention of bondage play, harry leaves like one love bite, and tooth-rotting holding each other while having sex content. lmk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT 5.5k

AUTHOR’S NOTE fun fact this was supposed to be done months ago and then literally everything that could have gotten in my way did just that. but she’s here now!! writing this was a challenge but i feel so good about it now that it’s complete and i can’t wait for you all to read it. please lmk you enjoyed by leaving feedback and/or reblogging!! special thanks to @cherryjuiceblues for beta reading for me <3 ily <3

LOVER SELECTION one-shots here.

“harry, it doesn’t matter if—”

“it does to me!”

“hey, there are two people in this relationship, you know.”

“yeah, an‘ one of ’em feels like right shit on what’s meant to be the greatest tour of his life! doesn’t that mean anythin‘ to you?”

“of course it does, i just—”

“really? ’cause y’could’ve fooled me, love.”

“harry, i swear, if you interrupt me one more time, i’m booking the next flight home.”

… tour had been going really well for harry! he was playing back to back sold out shows in some of the biggest cities in the world, with adoring fans lining up by the thousands, itching to hear him sing live. he’d already had some really sweet interactions on stage, and no crazy mishaps had occurred (he was especially proud of himself for having ensured everyone’s safety so far). just in the last week alone, he’d been nominated for three different awards for his newest album and performances. anyone could see that he was living a dream— the dream, really. the kind that only comes true once in a blue moon.

and yet… tour had been going really poorly for harry. now, he doesn’t like to complain about much; he knows just how fortunate he is, and actively tries to see the bigger picture when frustrated. but it was really hard to zoom out of his particular situation when he was so zeroed in on a particular aspect that had been bugging him for weeks— y/n.

don’t get him wrong! y/n herself wasn’t what was bothering him. it was more so her presence, and his… lack thereof.

if there’s one thing harry prides himself on more than anything, it’s being an attentive lover— even in the most innocent and platonic of ways. he tries his absolute hardest to be a supportive brother, a considerate son, a (hopefully) decent role model to those who look up to him, and especially a present, loving boyfriend. and for the most part, he’s just as successful in those aspects as he is in his career. in fact, y/n regularly speaks of how harry treats her like she hangs the stars in the sky just for him, how he makes her feel like the most special girl in the world.

but this tour was taking its toll, and harry was taking it out on y/n. he’s never been great at communicating everything in the most positive of ways— that’s where he turns to songwriting— and he’d let his emotions get the better of him after letting them build up for the past couple of weeks. he wasn’t proud of himself, but he needed an outlet.

harry didn’t mean to start the fight. but when y/n asked him where he’d been after a last minute management meeting following that night’s show kept him an extra half hour later than he said he’d be, it was like all the frustration just erupted. inadequacy is one of his least favorite feelings (next to loneliness), and being a barely-there or only-sometimes-there boyfriend couldn’t be more of a trigger for that particular emotion.

now here they were, vexation filling the tour bus around them like a fog they could barely see through, inhaling it with every breath and releasing it back into the atmosphere surrounding them. harry huffed out a sigh, arms crossed and brow furrowed as he angrily looked out the window of the tour bus to distract himself for a moment, having to mentally step away from the argument at hand, even if just for a few seconds. watching as the dark streets outside shined with the headlights of other vehicles, he found himself wishing he were in one of them. it would be nice to be in a car alone, nothing but his thoughts and some music to keep him company.

but he had real company. she was standing not six feet away from him, emulating his defensive position with her arms drawn across her own chest, jaw clenching and relaxing every other moment. when he finally turned to look at her again, he exhaled loudly.

“we were crazy to think that this could work,” he mumbled, barely audible to y/n, but she was able to make it out.

even when they fought, the girl seemed to be in sync with him, inhaling deeply, subconsciously countering his previous expulsion of breath. the yin to his yang.

“what are you talking about?”

harry groaned at her words. how didn’t she get this? “y/n, i’m never around! i wake up when you’re still asleep, prepare for the day, go to the venue, help set up the stage, sound check, rehearse a bit, and then ’m off t’go get ready for a show that lasts two hours. almost each night! i come back exhausted and aching to sleep! where d’you see yourself fitting in there?”

when y/n realized it was her turn to speak again, she said, “first off, do you think you could please calm down a little? i can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

his eyes narrowed. “like what?”

“when you’re acting like a child, harry! i mean, for god’s sake, i’m not nine! i can handle hanging out on my own for a few days at a time and just getting to cuddle with you at night until you have a day off. it’s not like i don’t have things to do throughout the day, too.”

while harry tended to say things he didn’t exactly believe in the heat of the moment, y/n meant every word she uttered. she really was content relaxing in the tour bus or a hotel room taking care of work on her laptop, catching up on new episodes of her favorite shows, or even going out to explore whatever new city they were in by herself. harry had breaks between show days once or twice a week, and the thought of having those days to themselves was enough to sate her desire to spend time with him. it annoyed her that he didn’t understand that, as she’d never been the clingy type and was always very self-sufficient.

“oh, i’m acting like a child, am i? right, i didn’t realize that wanting t’be present in my relationship with my girlfriend was childish, but hey, you learn something new every day, i s’pose.”

oh, y/n was really starting to seethe now. letting her arms fall to her sides with a frustrated puff, she began again.

“god, harry, you’re not childish for wanting to spend time together! i’m saying you need to realize that i’m perfectly capable of waiting for your days off to really spend time with you. you’re acting like we can’t function without each other!”

“the whole idea of you comin‘ on tour with me was to have this time together, y/n,” harry fired back. “if we’re barely going to get to see each other anyways, then what’s the bloody point?”

…

harry might have spoken too soon. at least, that’s what he thought as he laid overtop y/n on the tour bus couch, because now the point might very well be getting to just feel her lips on his every now and again.

it was late; harry had just come back from a show. usually, he’s too tired to do anything but crash onto a cloud-like mattress after all the jumping around he does on that stage, but this time all he wanted was his girl. it’d started innocently enough, with harry pulling y/n into his lap on the worn, red leather of the couch. his hands roamed along her hips and down to her waist beneath her soft hoodie (which wasn’t even technically her’s, but is it really theft if harry just leaves his clothes lying around for her to nab?), exploring the soft expanse of her skin, not straying any lower. her own hands were hidden in his curls, lightly scratching at his scalp in what she hoped were soothing motions.

harry knew he was done for once he initiated the kiss. tentative at first, he pressed light pecks along the corner of her mouth, quick and feathery, like he didn’t really care if he got to kiss her so much as he got to hold her, or simply be with her. but soon, the eagerness set in, like he wasn’t sure when the next time he’d get to have her was, and suddenly he was capturing her mouth with his own, barely giving her a chance to breathe as he tasted her. while harry never really believed in a higher power, he could have sworn he found religion in her lips.

things only escalated from there. it wasn’t long before harry was wrapping his muscular arms around y/n, so tight that he accidentally squeezed too hard, earning a squeak from the girl. he muttered a hushed but sincere “’m sorry, darling,” to compensate. one hand supported her head, the other splayed across her back as he laid her against the cushions so that he could keep loving on her on the way down. he relished her little whimpers that she tried so hard to suppress, grinning against her jawbone, her neck, any skin he came across on his journey south to more pressing territory.

harry didn’t bother removing y/n’s hoodie, opting instead to push it up past her naval in favor of gaining access to the waistband of her fluffy sleep shorts. he felt her hands tighten their grip ever so slightly on his shoulders as he hooked his fingers under it, relaxing again when he rubbed the pad of his thumb delicately along her hipbone, reminding her it was only him.

it was a thing with y/n. she loved harry, of course she did, and she trusted him more than anyone. and maybe it was the way she was brought up, or perhaps a few poor experiences with sexual partners in the past, but there was always a fleeting moment of anxiety before shedding the clothing barrier before sex. like dipping a toe into a cold lake and hesitating a little, then ultimately deciding that jumping in wouldn’t be so bad.

harry never pried. the first few times they’d slept together, he noticed her nerves, and asked her if she was sure she wanted to continue. y/n had said yes each time, and after a while, he stopped asking. but still, whenever he noticed that brief nervous shift, harry gave her a chance to change her mind.

this time, he bided his time by sponging tender kisses right above where his fingers were still half hidden under her shorts. he wanted her to feel safe, and taken care of, and he hoped his gentle touches and even breathing could remedy her anxiety. as he waited, harry’s mind drifted…. he was getting lost in the feel of her soft skin, its dips and curves and blemishes. he thought about her waist, how his hands fit so perfectly against its sides; her tummy, and how the muscles there jolted when he tickled them; and her hips… god, if y/n’s body was a church, her hips could be the altar. harry was ready to say a prayer right then, thanking every higher power for blessing him with this gorgeous girl—

“harry?” his love’s melodic voice interrupted his thoughts, and harry’s eyes snapped up to meet hers, his nose continuing to skim just above her navel. “um… you can keep going. please.”

the corner of harry’s mouth quirked upward, and y/n could have sworn she caught a glimpse of mischief in the jade of his irises, but it was gone in an instant, as he wasted no time in stripping her of her bottoms.

…

“god, h-harry,” panted y/n, her grip on his curls constricting with every lick to her core, “’s so good, oh—”

“would feel even better if y’stopped trying t’run away from me, wouldn’t it? don’t wanna have to tie you down.”

y/n couldn’t help it! it wasn’t her fault if harry’s tongue was just too good and her body’s natural reaction was to attempt to escape his grip for a little relief. if anything, he should be happy— they’d been at this for so long y/n lost count of the minutes, and after two toe-curling orgasms, one would think harry’s jaw could use a break.

but that thought flew out the window when y/n remembered who she was metaphorically in bed with.

“’m sorry…,” she whimpered, gripping the side of the couch cushion as her eyes squeezed shut.

“don‘ have to be sorry, darling,” harry mumbled against her folds, chin glistening with her arousal as he placed a soft kiss to y/n’s clit, making her jolt in his hold. he breathed a short laugh, adjusting his arms so that one held her upper thigh next to his head, while the other pinned her hips to the red leather, restricting her ability to move. “jus’ wanna make you feel as good as possible, is all. will y’let me?”

harry turned his head, nipping at the inside of the girl’s thigh, and she gasped at the brief assault on the softest skin of her body, now adorning the mark of his front teeth that she loved so much. she shuddered a breath as best she could, and harry could tell by the way her knuckles were turning white in their grip on the couch that she was trying her best to be good. feeling a twinge of guilt, he figured maybe he should offer her a second to breathe. y/n opened her eyes when she felt harry’s lips retreat from her aching cunt and the weight of his head rest against the love bite.

“hey.”

y/n cast her gaze down upon the boy (who looked far too innocent, considering what they were doing) with his cheek laid on her inner thigh, stray hairs tickling her just a tad. playfulness swam in his eyes, but there was an underlying current of concern.

“doin‘ okay?”

she nodded, gulping. harry noticed.

“because we can take a break if you want to. just say the word, okay?”

“i will, i-i promise. but… can you please keep going?”

that was all he needed to get right back into it, only with even more fervor than before. when y/n reached her third and final peak of the night, her whole body shook, and harry had the pleasure of getting to watch as he helped her ride out her high. he almost came in his pants, rutting his hips into the sofa, moaning against her core, begging her give it t’me, love, that’s it.

harry pulled back when she started pushing at his head, whining for relief as he gave one final lap at her core. he grinned at her fucked-out figure as he wiped his face on his forearm, then took her hand that had been grasping at the cushion in one of his, bringing the back of it to his lips for a gentle kiss.

“feel all right, baby?”

“mhm,” she hummed between heaving breaths, glancing at what she assumed could only be a quite painful stiffy between his legs as he sat up, “do you?”

harry followed her line of vision, offering her a chuckle and an i’m fine, using his free hand to smooth his thumb along her brow. before he could even register it, her palm slipped from the grip of his other hand and traveled down to rub against the bulge in his pants, earning a sharp hiss from her boyfriend and a deep groan soon after.

“why don’t you let me repay the favor?”

…

harry was pretty sure y/n was asleep. if she wasn’t, she was definitely on the verge— her breaths were deep and even as she laid in his hold, her head on his chest, ear pressed overtop his steadily beating heart. and who could blame her? the evening’s activities had worn her out, which meant harry had done his job properly. he was more than happy to be wide awake, running his fingertips up and down her arm, inhaling the sweet scent of her fruity body wash while she dreamt if it meant she was rested and content and happy.

moments like these made harry think they could get away with it. the long hours spent apart, the hectic schedules, the fighting. sure, it was tough, and yes, they both had a temper that rivaled one another’s for the ‘least amount of patience award’ on any given day. but every missing ounce of patience was compensated by double its weight in love. they loved one another enough to make it work.

they could make this work.

right?

…

“jesus, harry, how do you think that makes me feel? you’d honestly rather i not be here? are you actually that insecure?”

“c’mon, y/n, you know tha’s not what i meant.”

y/n felt like they were going around in circles, having the same fight over and over again. only this time, the couple found themselves in a beautiful hotel room, with a beautiful view overlooking a beautiful city. and instead of getting to enjoy it, y/n was glaring at harry though the vanity mirror, his back facing her as he tamed his wild curls for tonight’s show… which he had to leave for in just a few short minutes.

the balled up fist on y/n’s hip flew up to her face, fingers flexing to pinch at the bridge of her nose as her eyes squeezed shut for a moment.

“i can’t believe this. i dropped everything to be here with you— to support you on the most incredible tour of your career— and instead of being happy i’m here as opposed to the alternative of thousands of miles away in a different time zone for months, you’re sitting here bitching about being too tired?”

harry sighed deeply, only infuriating y/n more. “you’re missing the point. ’s not that i don’t want you here, or just that ’m too tired. ’s knowing you’re sitting around by yourself, waiting on me while ’m working, when you could be out with friends and family, or sleeping in the comfort of your own bed—”

“that you’re not in!” the girl loudly interjected— how didn’t he get this? “i put all those things aside for us, har. it’s not like i’m leaving my life behind for years. christ’s sake, the tour is over in two months! but somehow, being away from my home and routine is easier than being in the same room as you right now.”

harry contemplated his next words carefully, turning them over in his head a few times and editing any obvious mistakes, leaving the pair of them to marinate in suffocating silence for a good ten or so seconds before he finally spoke.

“y/n… i can’t be a good boyfriend and a serious artist simultaneously, okay? not while ’m on tour. i can’t keep losing sleep over how well i’m balancing—”

“okay, you know what, harry? you know what? maybe you should just leave me, then. wouldn’t that be easier? you’d be able to sleep better at night, right?”

they both knew she didn’t mean it, though harry couldn’t lie and say it didn’t hurt to hear. but she was pissed, and harry knew better than to try to reason with her when she was like this.

when she realized he wasn’t going to respond, instead electing to stare brokenly into the mirror, she continued. “you know damn well how hard i work for this relationship. i’ve flown across the oceans that have separated us, driven for hours just to get to see you for, like, one— hell, i’ve skipped some of my most important classes so we could go to shitty dive bars in the middle of the day together! yeah, remember that? i love you, okay? people who love each other are supposed to be grateful for any time they have together at all, no matter if it’s every day or once a year.”

y/n took a breath, finally cooling down after her heated rant. she took a moment to take in the sight of her boyfriend, dressed so vibrantly, feeling anything but.

“they warned us about times like this,” the defeated tone of y/n’s whisper was enough to finally get harry to say something.

“what was that, love?”

the girl swallowed the little saliva in her mouth before speaking up a mere decibel. “remember what my parents said? ‘the road gets hard, and you get lost when you’re led by blind faith,’” she imitated her father’s deep voice, and if not for the circumstances, harry might’ve laughed.

they weren’t lost, were they?

…

if there was such a thing as heaven on earth, y/n is pretty sure she’s been there. in fact, she goes there whenever harry so much as touches her.

when he kisses her shin as they lay watching a movie together on the couch, pulling her leg up off his lap and craning his neck downward to meet it in the middle. when he runs his fingers down the bridge of her nose, making an exaggerated boop! noise once he reaches the tip, gently pressing against it like a doorbell. and especially when he has her like this.

harry’s arms felt secure wrapped around y/n’s torso, her hips moving back and forth atop his own. the feeling of his cock twitching and shifting inside her while her nipples rub deliciously along his chest made her dizzy, like she had just gotten off a loopy rollercoaster. harry’s back arched just slightly off the plush mattress of their hotel suite’s bed when y/n gave a little bounce, arms constricting around her and forcing a pleased sigh to fall from her lips.

the girl hid her face in the crook of his neck, and harry could feel each and every hot breath against his skin. lost in pleasure, he let his large hands migrate from her hips down to her bum, where he gave a small pinch to the flesh, eliciting a yelp and a small jolt from y/n.

“sorry, baby,” he laughed, “couldn’t help m’self.” harry gently flattened his palm against the now tender skin, rubbing there softly in an attempt to soothe the little ache he left. when he felt satisfied, he shifted to rubbing between her shoulder blades instead, his other arm still wrapped around her lower back as she returned to her previous rhythm above him.

y/n could tell harry was enjoying himself. his groans alone were evidence enough, not to mention the little utterances of “shit, darling,” and “so good t’me,” he frequently let slip. but perhaps he just needed a bit more to reach his high, because without warning his hands were on her thighs, gripping tightly as he began to thrust upwards into her at a much quicker pace than she had originally set— it had her seeing stars in a matter of mere seconds.

“oh, god— harry,” y/n gasped out, gripping the edge of the plush pillow by harry’s ear. she could feel him hitting that special spot inside her with every snap of his hips, and she couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling back into her head, muscles tightening all throughout her body.

“almost there, angel… just…,” harry’s thrusts began to slow, becoming more deliberate, and now he was moving her hips to grind against his each time they met, sending y/n over the edge.

y/n’s moans were long and drawn out as she came, body spasms making her hold on more tightly to harry for stability. she didn’t even hear him finish, too busy reveling in the euphoric feeling of cumming in his arms, surrounded by warmth and love and feeling the safest she had in a long while.

it was moments like these where y/n couldn’t fathom how she’s ever been upset with harry. he was perfect, lying here under her unsteady body, breathing deeply not only to catch his breath, but to take in the smell of her. she wanted this for eternity. and if this was heaven, then surely hell was when they fought with each other.

…

y/n thought she was dreaming at first, not used to being roused from her slumber by anything other than her well-timed alarm and the occasional bark of a dog on a nearby street. she expected that after blinking the sleep from her eyes a few times, the vague image of her favorite boy would dissipate, and she’d fall back into the comfort of her warm pillow. but when she squeezed them shut once, then twice, and her boyfriend’s face was still a foot away from her’s, brushing his fingertips up her nose and along her brow, she set aside her exhaustion in exchange for confusion.

now, harry knew better than to wake y/n up. in most circumstances, she’d tell him off, or gently kick at him to get him to leave her alone. he found it rather endearing, and it’s one of the reasons he’s so protective of her in her sleep— always holding her close to keep her safe, shielding her eyes from any light intruding on the space she lay, making sure both their phones were set to ‘do not disturb.’ but he had to make an exception, just this once.

“darling,” she barely registered his whisper, “wake up f’me, please?”

a whine fell from y/n’s lips, her eyes scrunching shut as she turned her body away from him, which harry knew was code for let me sleep, for fuck’s sake! a smile graced his lips at the action, jotting down a mental note to make this up to her later.

compensating for the newfound distance between them, harry scooted closer to her. he kneeled on the floor next to the bed, close to the pillows she rested upon. he laid one arm against the mattress, perching his chin on the back of his wrist. using his free hand, he continued to brush his fingertips lightly against his love’s cheek, her jaw— all along her face, really. god, her loves her face so much.

“please, baby?”

harry had just come back from one of his best performances yet— the crowd’s energy was unmatched, the chemistry between him and his band members was palpable, and he’d managed to not get hit with any flying objects all night! but what really did it for him was the fan project he was surprised with at the end of the show. thousands of people in the room wore light-up bracelets that shone pink and blue during one of his favorite songs, ‘love of my life.’ if harry’s heart had been any more full in that moment, it might’ve exploded right there in his chest.

he had been on cloud nine for a moment. but soon, realization washed over him in a way that squeezed at his lungs, stealing his breath for a second. the love of his life was somewhere miles away, probably sitting in their hotel room watching a comfort film, oblivious to anything he was feeling on that stage. he just wanted to go home to her and gush about what had happened, and how he wished she’d been there, and how it made so much sense that it would happen during ‘love of my life’ because it was the perfect representation of the amount of love he had for his, and how if she’d have been there, he would have looked directly at her and smiled the whole time.

it made him realize how bloody stupid he was.

in retrospect, the conversation he’d needlessly just woken y/n up for could have waited until morning. but then harry wouldn’t have been able to sleep if he didn’t tell her he was sorry right away.

a groan sounded through the room, followed by the ruffling of bedsheets as the girl turned back over to glare annoyedly at harry. he let out a soft laugh at her behavior.

“’m sorry, baby. know you jus‘ wanna sleep right now, but ’s it okay if we talk for a mo‘?”

“now?” y/n asked in a gravelly voice.

“now, m‘ love.”

with a soft sigh, she relented, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her knuckles. harry caught the motion, bringing his hands up to pull hers away from her face. he didn’t like when y/n did that, as she always managed to do it too roughly. instead, he held her smaller hands in his own, getting up to sit on the edge of the bed, facing her.

“what is it?” y/n asked through a yawn. harry looked at her for a moment— really looked at her— before responding.

“i’m sorry.”

it took her a moment to register his words. “for waking me up?”

harry laughed that dreamy laugh she loved so much, and it almost made up for the fact that she was up at twelve thirty in the morning. “no, y’little minx. not for that. well, yes, for that, but that’s not what i meant.”

“what are you sorry for, then?”

harry looked at her with an expression y/n couldn’t place. it look him a few beats to speak. “i… i’m sorry i was such a prick before. i love that you’re here, an‘ that i get t’see you when i’m off. know you put aside a lot for this, an‘ i ruined it with m’own problems. didn’t mean to.”

y/n’s features softened at the boy’s sincerity, and if it weren’t for the warmth his hands encapsulating hers provided, she’d have reached out and held his face, peppering kisses over every dip and curve.

“i know you didn’t…. i’m sorry, too.”

“for what?”

“i should’ve listened better. you were trying to tell me how you felt and i just disregarded it. that wasn’t very nice of me, either.”

the right corner of harry’s lips tugged upwards, morphing his mouth into that little half-grin y/n adored so much. “think we can get past it, darling?”

the girl scooted forward the tiniest bit, harry’s magnetic pull too hard to resist. though they were the only two in the room, she whispered, “i’ll forgive you if you forgive me.” harry liked how she made something so simple sound like a secret deal between them.

harry’s half-smile quickly quirked up, completing itself, and y/n swooned over his dimples and adorable bunny teeth. a short and quiet breath of a laugh fell past his lips, and for a moment, he just looked at her. but his gaze caught a glimpse of uncertainty in her eyes, and his grin faltered a bit.

y/n was always good at hiding her true emotions when she wanted to. not when it really mattered, don’t get her wrong— she wasn’t one to take anyone’s shit. but at dinner with her parents or meetings at work, she was able to pretend she wasn’t exhausted or annoyed. it never worked with harry, though. he could read and understand her like his own lyrics, and tonight was no exception. he saw through the mask of humor at her uncertainty, and a pang of guilt bloomed in his chest.

he let out a sigh as he beckoned her forward by gently tugging her hands, still in his, toward him. “c’mere, baby,” he said softly, pulling his love into his lap. y/n curled into him, knees tucked upward into her chest as his strong arms found purchase around her frame, holding her tenderly but securely. one of harry’s large hands held the back of her head against him, her ear right over his heart, listening to it beat for her.

“love you like crazy. you’ve no idea.” he peppered light kisses to the top of her head, so softly she might’ve missed one or two. “thank you for comin‘ an‘ s’porting me. means the world, honestly.”

“i’m happy to be anywhere with you, har,” she replied in a voice honey-thick with sleep. “even if it’s just for a few minutes. always so happy to have you.”

harry closed his eyes, laying back into the pillows, bringing y/n down with him so that she was laying overtop his sturdy body, inhaling his every exhale.

“you have me,” he said, though he was almost certain she didn’t hear him, likely already pulled into the void of sleep, drawn in by the comfort of harry’s arms, his smell, him.

“you’ll always have me.”

taglist (final time using the old one, see new link in bio): @fahsey @caswinchester2000 @lmaotshollandd @jackiehollanderr @nervousdadmode @amii-nyc @skitmix @auggie2000 @voguesir @yourgoldengirls @hunnybunimdun @lolooo22 @atoris-fantasy

2K notes · View notes

lilystyles · 4 months

Text

style masterlist.

this series is currently ongoing!! a @lilystyles series.

y/n has had a crush on harry since they were kids but he’s off-limits. him being her best friend’s brother and all she has never made a move, knowing emma wouldn’t approve. but lines are blurred one night and she doesn’t know if she can follow the rules like a good girl.

or y/n is off limits and harry just can't have that.

fratboy!older!bffsbrother!harry x younger!innocent!reader

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style

harry seeks comfort, lines are blurred, y/n doesn’t think she can follow the rules like a good girl. (11.4k)

song for this chapter 'Style' by Taylor Swift.

wildest dreams

y/n and harry start to see each other more and more. but it's a secret, things get complicated when emma sets y/n up on a blind date. harry doesn't like it. (15k)

song for this chapter 'Wildest Dreams' by Taylor Swift.

blank space

niall throws the party of the century, and harry gives y/n a gift. (11k)

song for this chapter 'Blank Space' by Taylor Swift.

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thanks for all the love for style!H angels he loves u too :)

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novelistrry · 1 year

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Her mouth gawked open at how casually he said it was like it was completely okay for her eyes to be ogling him like he was a piece of meat. Every single time he wore that shirt, she felt guilty for the ways her eyes could have burnt holes through his chest. Now, she was thinking he wore that shirt so often on purpose— to make her squirm. She tucked her face into the neck of her arm to hide from him.

“Stop hiding from me. Want to see your bashful face,” he pulled her face from the neck of her arm and placed his fingers below the underside of her chin once more so she wouldn’t pull away. “Y’know if you were one of the seven dwarfs, you would most definitely be Bashful.”

With an eye roll and a defeated puff from her lips, she finally gave him the answer he was hoping for, “I’ll go with you.”

As much as he wanted to be delighted by her response, he wanted to confirm that she was positive she actually wanted to go. He didn’t want to force her into doing anything she was unsure of, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Y/N stood from the chair and stretched out to rid the aches in her joints from sitting in one position for too long. “Do you think we could watch a movie?”

Harry is a young professor and Y/N has never felt this kind of attraction before.

Disclaimer: There is only light editing and it is smutty in this part!

Word Count: 14k+

Part One

The Spring breeze brushed Y/N’s cheeks.

Sprawling out on a plaid picnic blanket with her and Niall’s favorite lunch items was her favorite way to spend Sundays, especially when the park was filled with laughter, butterflies, and blooming flowers. Sunshine covered the entirety of the park, seeping warmth that trickled deep into her skin and bones, and she was soaking up every ounce she could get. Sunshine made her feel happy, and optimistic even.

Niall sat there with a book in hand, reading something for pleasure, taking a pause from all the educational content he had consumed over the past few months. It was some book that he begged Y/N to read, telling her that she would absolutely fall in love with the characters, but Y/N was too preoccupied with the tension brewing in her own life, not leaving much room for her to brew over fictional characters.

With a few snaps and a couple grunts, Niall managed to pull her from her reverie looking disgruntled as his book lay askew in his lap. “Sheesh, what do I have to do to get your attention nowadays. Dye my hair brown and curl it?”

That familiar heat that normally crept up her skin, penetrating her cheeks and the top of her ears rose once more, and her sheepish smile remained as she swatted in his direction, not actually able to nudge at him because he was a little too far. Y/N and Niall hadn’t talked about the bar a few weeks ago. He didn’t know where she snuck off to after school or why she was coming home late at night. It’s not that she didn’t want to tell him, Niall just hadn’t asked. “Oh, stop that!”

A teasing smile played upon his lips, curling just slightly and his eyes gleaming enough to know that a snide remark was going to be hurled at her soon. “So what, you spend all your time with him now and he occupies your thoughts when I’m with ya?”

Pink lips curved up, matching the same teasing smile Niall had displayed across his face. A shimmer in her eye had him realizing he wasn’t that far off the mark with his assumption, though she wasn’t keen on confirming that with him. A floral-scented breeze blew through her hair as she inhaled sharply, filling her lungs with the clean Spring air, resetting her breath and her thoughts. “How would you know if I spent all my time with him?”

In a fraction of a second, Niall was sitting a little closer to her, the book he was once enthralled with falling off of his lap and closing on itself, losing the page he had carefully left it open on. His arm extended to nudge her slightly, pushing her in the direction of that floral-scented breeze she just couldn’t get enough of. Dandelions were growing in the grass, rose petals were falling from the bushes that paved the park sidewalks, and blue skies hung over them. It was an omen of goodness, she thought.

“You think I don’t realize how late you sneak through the door? I can hear ya!” He wasn’t speaking to her in an accusatory tone like she was sneaking behind his back because she wasn’t. He spoke to her in a tone that says I’m your best friend, I just wanna know what’s going on in your life, so she decided that she would give him a glimpse at how her afternoons are spent.

“He’s been tutoring me, that’s all. He found out I was failing abnormal psych and told me he can help me. It’s completely innocent, but he helps me after school…” She trailed off, leaving out the details that he drives her to his apartment where they lay her books out on the kitchen table and he goes through each concept with her, or that sometimes when they’re feeling a little tired, they lay her books out on the coffee table and sit together on the couch, elbows and knees brushing. She leaves out the fact that she stares at the way his mouth moves when he speaks, and sometimes he gives her a stern look, indicating that he knows where she’s looking and she needs to focus on the subject at hand. Besides the subtle and gentle brushes of bare skin, and the fact that she sometimes stares when she shouldn’t, it was a completely innocent thing.

“But you don’t want it to be innocent, is that it?” Niall asked, the judgment-free from his tone. Curiosity was interwoven between the syllables, but there was no indication that he was judging her for her…. Er… Feelings?

Hummingbirds flew past them as she thought of an answer. A couple thoughts were swimming through her brain, but none that she wanted to share with him. No, she wanted to keep some of them private, just for her. She didn’t want to tell him about the kiss they shared, or the way her fingers would graze her lips the following week after their lips had touched ever-so-gently. She didn’t want to tell him that when she breathes in the citrus scents in the produce aisle at the grocery store she thinks of his minty citrus cologne, or how sometimes when he would lean in while she studied, her heart would thump a little harder and her skin would warm with a feeling she couldn’t quite place just yet.

“I don’t think so,” was all she said, not giving any other information. That is all Niall wanted to hear, that she knew she was feeling something more than a bond between two colleagues. If he was being honest with himself, he was a little worried for her. A professor and TA isn’t the worst combination, eventually, when the semester ended, she would no longer be his TA, but she had never expressed a crush even throughout undergrad. Hell, Niall didn’t think she had very much experience with guys, but that would never be an appropriate question to ask her.

“As long as you’re being safe, I’m happy that you feel so happy,” the response was honest. He was happy, though a tad nervous like mentioned before, but happy to see her so consumed with the sunshine, the flowers, and the hummingbirds that swirled around them. He thinks maybe, just maybe, her sweetened mood might be the force that brought Spring on so suddenly.

“Thank you, Niall,” she said slowly, “I am happy.”

____

“Are you understanding this?” Harry pointed to words in bolded letters that read mood disorders. His tongue flicked out across his bottom lip as he lowered himself from the couch to the floor, criss crossing his legs so that he was adjacent to the book Professor Smith required in his class (it happened to be the same one Harry required, so he knew the book like the back of his hand and it made the lessons with Y/N so much simpler).

A puff blew from Y/N’s lips as she eyed him, the words he was speaking weren’t registering in her ears. It seemed that with each passing day, she became more flustered with the proximity of him and more restless each time their skin brushed or she watched his tongue wet his lips— something she had never quite experienced. To her own embarrassment, she had googled the symptoms and Google had told her she was experiencing a kind of attraction she had probably never experienced before. Y/N thought back to the few people she had a crush on years ago and realized that they just made something bubble in her tummy, but never made her feel the way she felt when she looked at Harry. She felt so jumpy and jittery around him, she was beginning to think something was wrong with her. Quickly, she clicked out the tab and then cleared her search history, although she knew that no one was going to be able to look through it beside her. She just didn’t want to be reminded of the fact that she had googled something that made her feel so virginal.

It was true, she had only ever kissed one person other than Harry. She didn’t have half the experience Harry had, and she probably couldn’t even convincingly say she had a quarter of his experience either. The boy was named Kitt, and she met him at a summer camp they both attended in high school. At the end of the camp, right before she was shipped back home, Kitt planted one on her. She didn’t feel for Harry the same way she felt for Kitt, her relationship with Kitt felt childish in comparison. She wanted to feel Harry, really truly feel his mouth against hers. Not the way he kissed her in the office to cheer her up, make her feel better, and soothe the horrid thoughts that were rifling through her brain. She wanted a kiss where she was attentive, where she could explore every inch of his mouth, and where she could—

“Are you even listening to me?” He asked her, pushing his face into his hands. At first, she thought maybe he was losing patience with her, but when he nudged her with his elbow and sent an angelic smile (the kind of smile that would make a person drop to their knees), she knew he was only teasing her.

Embarrassment flooded through her as she was caught, once again, not paying attention to the concepts he was trying to teach her and rather drifting off into daydreams about him. The sun was setting, the natural light in the living room slowly dimmed as they shifted from day to night, and she knew that their time together for the night would be coming to an end soon. She should have really been listening to him, taking in each sound of his voice, the way his deep voice wrapped around the consonants and vowels, but she just couldn’t help it. Ugh, she just couldn’t focus.

“I’m sorry,” she answered him genuinely. She was sorry for not listening. He was taking so much of his free time to help her learn and she repaid him by not listening. How could she tell him that the way his eyes locked with hers, sultry and tempting sent her spiraling into daydreams she didn’t want to pick herself out of? How could she tell him that when she watched his tongue flick over his lips, she thought of the way his lips felt against hers and how she wanted to feel that again? She wouldn’t tell him that, so she settled on the next best thing and put her face in her hands to hide from his concerned stare, “I’m just having trouble focusing.”

With caution, he shifted his body and brought himself back onto the couch so that he was sitting next to her once more. Harry had been noticing the way she was in and out of their conversations, sometimes completely immersed and other times floating away so high that he thought he would have to bring her back down with a butterfly net. Usually, he tried not to make her feel too bad about it, he didn’t want her to think that she was upsetting him, because she wasn’t. But, this was the second week of her floating to space as he talked. Sometimes he would catch her right before she slipped into the reveries it was hard to bring her out of, but today she was long gone and he was beginning to feel anxious over her lack of focus.

“I know you are,” he reached over and hooked his fingers on the inside of her wrists, pulling her hands away from her face so that she would look at him. He didn’t want to treat her like a damsel in distress of any sort or like he was some hero trying to save her from her own thoughts— that’s not what was going on at all. He just wanted to understand her better, to figure out where her brain was running off to. “Won’t you tell me why?”

There it was again, that soft voice that makes her admit things she otherwise would have been so unwilling to do. Fingers caressed her cheek lightly; his fingers. Without much thought, she tilted her head into his fingers, begging for his touch without actually saying anything. It was dangerous, he knew it was. The last time he crossed a boundary with her, he told her it couldn’t happen again, and though she occupied most of his thoughts, it had been a month since the kiss, since he pushed her up against the wall of the bar and she licked his finger, and he wasn’t willing to cross that boundary again even though he wanted to.

“‘Can’t stop thinking about you,” she mumbled, her eyes fluttering close as his fingers brushed against her cheek in soft strokes. With so much delicacy, with so much precision, he gave her one last stroke of the cheek before tucking his hands in his lap. Y/N’s eyes which were peacefully shut as she soaked in the brief skin-on-skin contact abruptly opened at the lack of physical touch.

“I see,” his tone shifted to one that was more guarded, one that was less like the cheerful, sweet Harry she had gotten so used to over the past month. “You just really need to understand this stuff.”

Harry was trying to reason with her, he really was and she knew it too. She wanted to cross her arms, turn her lips down into a gruff point, and tell him that she wanted to talk to him outside of all the studying. Maybe it was wrong, but she wanted to get to know him for who he was outside of a college professor. There were so many things in his home that made her think that he was quite possibly the most interesting being to ever walk the planet. Vinyls crammed into a bookshelf that was absolutely not made for vinyl but must have run out of room for his records on the measly shelves you can buy at the record store. The furniture wasn’t your typical ikea branded nightstands and sofas. It was much more intricate like he had spent his days going to vintage furniture stores, trying to find the coziest couch that matched his bubbly spirit. Y/N had never been so interested in the ins and outs of someone’s life, how they formed their taste, or how they decided their career path. The closest thing she could think of was how she hammered Niall with twenty questions when they first met. It was purely platonic, never any mutual attraction between the two. Obviously, Y/N knew he was a little pretty, but she was much more interested in being his friend than anything else.

“I know,” she huffed out, furrowing her brows in frustration. A feeling of smallness washed over her, realizing that she admitted she thinks about him. A lot. Too much. And he responded by telling her she needed to understand the course contents. Of course, she knew that. “I’m trying.”

His lips twitched and though he knew he shouldn’t indulge her further, he liked to see her bashful gaze and the way she sucked in her bottom lip between her teeth and furrowed her eyebrows, attempting to give him the most thoughtful answer she could possibly think of. Honestly, Y/N was the type of girl that people could say was put through a time machine. She chose her words carefully, she picked her actions cautiously, and she was too mindful for her own good. But when it came to Harry, she felt so out of control of herself. It was massively infuriating.

Against his own better judgment he asked her the question he knew he shouldn’t have, “What do you think of when you think of me?”

She pondered momentarily, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth, furrowing her eyebrows, and searching the crevices of her brain for a way to respond to him. She just spent the better half of the lesson with him, thinking about his lips and how they felt, but she didn’t let her thoughts go further than that. No, she barely tried to think about the way her tongue licked from the base of his finger and then swirled against the tip because she could barely handle where the thoughts might lead to. She didn’t want to admit it, not when he was so firm about the boundary they set in his office a month ago right after the kiss they shared. “I wonder what you’re like outside of school and tutoring. I look around your apartment and see all these intricate things and beautiful paintings, and it makes me wonder how you spend your free time.”

“That’s all?” He looked at her incredulously, wondering why she was so shy about daydreaming about how he spends his free time. Actually, he would have even gone as far as to say that he was disappointed. All she had to do was ask him, and he would cross that boundary with her once more.

“Yes,” she hummed out, slumping her shoulders forward and resting her elbows on her knees, “That’s it.”

“Well,” he responded, closing the textbook but not before dog-earring the book to mark their spot (one of Y/N’s biggest pet peeves was dog-earring a book instead of using a bookmark, but she guesses she doesn’t mind so much when it’s Harry who does it). “Can I make a deal with you?”

“That depends on the deal,” she quirked one of her eyebrows.

“If I tell you that we can spend some time together outside of studying, do you promise to try and pay attention a little more?” He asked, giving her the best deal she could have possibly thought of.

“Of course!” Excitement nearly burst from the pores of her skin, and she didn’t have it in herself to be mortified by the way she responded with such enthusiasm.

“It’s a deal, Darling,” he reached out his hand and grasped hers, shaking gently.

That’s how it began. That is how Y/N and Harry began spending so much time together, going on picnics, seeing movies, getting coffees at the shop on the corner of where his flat was located, visiting flower shops, feeding the ducks bread at the pond (though Y/N googled it and found out that oats are much better for ducks because if you throw the bread in the pond, it can rot and collect algae causing harm to the wildlife in the surrounding area). That is how Harry ended up keeping a 42-ounce container of oats in his car just in case she wanted to feed the ducks.

____

Bright lights shone in the sterile atmosphere, and Y/N knew she should have been paying attention after being called out by Professor Smith just last month, but it was only partner work with Mallory and Mallory didn’t mind that she was dazing off back into that far away land. Actually, Y/N noticed that Mallory was too, except when she peered over at Mallory, her eyes were narrowed, her fingers were gripping the desk tightly, and it was like she could physically see the color drain from her face.

“Mallory?” Y/N questioned her friend, pulling Mallory from her thoughts. With care, Mallory set the pen on the table, then rubbed her eyes in a couple brisk moments. When she finally looked back at Y/N, she still didn’t have that signature warm look in her eyes. The kind of look that tells people “You’re safe with me.” It was gone, buried under deep gray clouds and Y/N could nearly see that the storm was brewing behind those eyes.

“I’m sorry, I have a lot on my mind,” she explained, her eyes still not meeting Y/N’s. The blank gaze was becoming alarming with each passing minute, and usually, Y/N didn’t like to push because she knew how it felt, and it was not a very good feeling, but she decided that she and Mallory had made good enough friends that it was slightly acceptable.

“Do you want to talk about it?” A question that was open, and couldn’t be classified as pushing because it was a close-ended yes or no type of question. If she said no, they would move on immediately and Mallory would never hear another peep out of Y/N regarding the subject. Prying just felt too invasive.

“I think Josh is cheating on me.” It turns out Mallory didn’t need any other pushing, because the words slipped from her lips so easily but with careful caution as she looked around the room, eager to see if anyone was eavesdropping on the pair (no one was, Y/N thinks Mallory just didn’t want the whole class to know her business, which was fair. She didn’t want anyone knowing her business either, but Professor Smith had other plans).

“Why do you think that?” The question Y/N asked was genuine, and filled with care. Y/N couldn’t imagine, what a horrible thing to think and how it must be weighing on Mallory heavily. Y/N thinks if she was kissing Harry all the time, and then found out he had been with other girls, it would feel like a knife right in her chest. But it was much different for Mallory. Mallory was in love with Josh, and from what Y/N gathered, Josh loved Mallory too. So how could he do something like that?

“I found underwear in the backseat of his car when I was looking for one of my earbuds that I dropped…” Mallory began gathering her thoughts, “they were tucked in between the seat and the floor, right next to where my earbud went.”

Y/N nodded in understanding, “I see, and you don’t understand why your underwear would be in the car.”

“Well, no,” Mallory explained, trying to get Y/N on the same wavelength as her. “It wouldn’t matter if I found my underwear in the car. Sometimes we just need each other so bad. The issue is that it wasn’t my underwear. I have never owned a laced pair of red underwear with pink hearts embroidered. Never.”

It suddenly clicked in Y/N’s brain. That wouldn’t make a lot of sense for Mallory to find a pair of underwear she has never owned in her life in Josh’s car. Y/N tried to think of ways it could be a misunderstanding, to reassure Mallory that maybe it wasn’t as it seemed. There was no way Y/N could spin it in her head that made Josh look less guilty than he actually was. He seemed very guilty. “Have you said anything to him yet?”

Mallory shook her head and pressed her cheek against the coolness of the wooden desk, “Tonight I will. I think I just wanna be in my thoughts right now.”

Y/N whispered something small, telling her that she understood and did not fault Mallory for not wanting to talk about it anymore. Maybe Y/N was a little relieved at that because she didn’t know the first thing that would make someone feel better about that. She couldn’t tap into prior experience, she couldn’t pull from when she was cheated on because Y/N was never in a situation like that. Actually, Y/N couldn’t stop replaying that sentence Mallory had said that awakened a realization deep in the pit of her gut, it was fizzling like a volcano was ready to explode. Sometimes we just need each other so bad, was what Mallory had said. Those simple string of words laced together helped Y/N describe the way she had been feeling for Harry; restless, tense, and she felt like she just needed him so badly every time she saw him. It was a realization that what she was experiencing was an attraction like no other, but how was she supposed to tell him?

____

Harry hated it.

If there was one thing he couldn’t stand it was miscommunication; plain and simple. Or in this case, lack of communication.

He couldn’t even tell you how many nights they sat down, side by side at his kitchen table going over the textbook (at this point he wanted to throw it through the window, he was so sick of it) and ignored the tension that was growing between them. With each longing glance, the tension was nourished. They were watering it, he thought. They were causing it to grow bigger and bigger until one day it couldn’t be confined to the four walls and they were just going to explode.

Sometimes the tension grew when they weren’t studying too. Actually, that’s where it seemed to get worse. When they were out and about, she would do subtle things that would work him up. Make him wanna grip her hips and pin her against the wall again, just like the bar. God, the bar. He pushed the thought down, but a similar thought began to rise.

“No, Harry,” she shook her head and tutted her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Carefully, she wrapped her fingers around his and encased his hand in hers. She was trying to show him the best way to feed the ducks. “This is how you do it.”

“So now you’re the professor?” He asked her, watching the bashful gaze flutter upon her features as she tucked her cheek against his shoulder. She began shaking his hand, letting the oats fall out from in between his fingers. He did understand it, though, the technique she was teaching him was a lot better than the technique he was using which clumped all the oats together. Now the ducks could pick the oats off the ground with space instead of cramming against one another.

“I think you can learn a few things from me,” She retorted, finally dropping his hand from hers. It was a strange feeling he had. The feeling that he didn’t want her to let go, he didn’t want her touch to fade.

“I think I can too,” he replied, tilting his head to the side, admiring her compassion and thoughtfulness. He thinks that if he weren’t there with her, Y/N would have the ducks eating from the palm of her hand.

But, finally, the lack of communication had reached its breaking point. He couldn’t handle it anymore, he needed to hear her thoughts. He just needed her to talk to him. So, he slammed the textbook shut a little too aggressively, causing her to jump and glare at him with frustration.

“I was in the middle of reading that!” Y/N’s glare persisted, but now her eyebrows were furrowed and her lips were flipped downward in a pout that told him she wasn’t happy with him shutting the book so abruptly and not giving a warning.

“Let’s talk,” he ignored the pout on her lips and the way her eyebrows furrowed in frustration. What he didn’t ignore was the way her fingernails nervously scratched at the table. Gently, he took her hands into his and shifted his body so they were facing each other. Her hands, still tucked tightly in his, were placed in his lap. It didn’t take long for him to note the way the pout wiped from her face as soon as she felt his skin against hers as if it was soothing for her hands to be in his.

“But you always scold me for talking when I’m trying to study!” She argued, trying to get to the bottom of why he wanted to talk. Y/N went through a mental checklist in her head of things he might want to talk about, but there was nothing so pressing that he needed to slam her book closed mid-sentence. She was finally passing Professor Smith’s class, she was keeping up with all her TA work in his class, and she wasn’t slipping into daydreams since her conversation with Mallory happened.

It took him a couple moments to respond. Instead, he admired her for just a second. She deserves admiration from time to time. Hell, she deserves admiration all the time. She was so cute he didn’t think it was humanly possible. If someone came knocking down his door and telling him that he was seduced by an alien and needed to report to NASA headquarters immediately, he wouldn’t have second-guessed it. He looked at her like she hung the moon, the sun, the galaxy, and everything in between.

“Will you quit staring,” she grumbled shyly.

“I just want to know how you feel, that’s all.” He was trying to be as straightforward as possible.

____

He wanted to know how she felt? Since her conversation with Mallory, she tried to find the words she would tell him. Y/N knew it wasn’t healthy to keep it bottled up and locked away. In fact, with each passing day, she felt like she was going to burst. Eventually, they were going to have this talk and she knew it was coming. No matter how much she thought about it, she didn’t think she would ever fully prepare for it. Obviously, after she and Harry shared the kiss, they talked about it and how it couldn’t ever happen again, but besides that, they both chose to ignore that it ever happened.

She popped her mouth open ready for the words to come out, but when they didn’t, she closed her mouth once more. Y/N did this a few more times, noting how patient Harry was with her. She thinks she might be the luckiest girl to be able to talk to someone so patient and kind.

“I was talking with Mallory,” Harry stiffened at the sound of Mallory’s name so she quickly revised the thoughts that poured from her brain and straight out the fountain that was her mouth, “Not about us! About her and her boyfriend. She thinks he’s cheating on her, but she hasn’t gotten to talk to him yet…” Y/N’s words faded out as she tried to figure out how to phrase this without sounding needy.

Y/N decided the best way was to start from the beginning, so she continued with her story, “Mallory said she dropped an earbud, so she was looking in the backseat of her boyfriend's car for it and found a pair of underwear that didn’t belong to her. Well, at first I thought it was because why would there be underwear in his car, but then she explained it wouldn’t have been that weird to find her underwear in his car because I guess sometimes they sleep together in the car. She told me they only did that when they felt like they needed each other badly,” she paused momentarily, once again trying to locate the words. “I think that’s how I feel about you. A strong desire.”

A strong desire? What was she thinking? She replayed the words, feeling so stupid for even saying them out loud. Y/N had admitted that she desired him but didn’t think he would return that same desire. How could he? The look on his face was unreadable, and she was suddenly hyper-aware of the room around them. She could feel the lights penetrating through the top layer of skin warming her up, she could hear the sound of the fireplace under his television crackling, and she could see the way his eyes flickered between her mouth and then back to her pupils. She may have messed up something go—

As if he was plucking a delicate flower from the grass, he pulled her body closer to him. She was off the chair and back in his lap in mere seconds, the same way she was back in his office when they shared the first kiss. Completely straddling him on the dining room chair, she was all too aware of how exposed she was in his position. She was reminded of the feel of his thighs between her legs once more. This time the kiss wasn’t gentle and filled with tears, it was more longing and wet. He pinched the sides of her hips with a such delicate precision that her mouth dropped open, just slightly to let him in.

Her prior kisses played on a loop in her mind. They had never felt like this before. This was pure desire, no doubt about it. His tongue caressed the inside of her mouth, and he tasted like the juice he was drinking as they studied. A soft and subtle notion of cranberry filled her mouth, and when she took a deep breath through her nose, she smelled his minty citrus signature scent.

Tongues colliding, she felt as if she could transcend from her body. And for a second, she thought she may have left her body and watched the two of them go at it from an outside perspective. It was sensual the way they moved together as if the two of them were one and the same. A piece of art carved from the same stone.

When his tongue retreated back to his own mouth, allowing her to feel the inside of his, she let a small moan escape, the vibration snaking its way up her throat and into his mouth. He could have melted then and there. The sound embarrassed her just a little bit. The moan—or whimper, really— was filled with such desperation and corrupt desire she couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of shame in the pit of her gut.

She pulled away, her face burying into his chest so that she couldn’t see the look on his face. “Sorry.”

He stroked his fingers up and down her sides, slipping beneath her shirt to feel her skin and she let out a small gasp at the feel of his fingers brushing against her sides. “What are you sorry for, baby?”

“You said we couldn’t do it again, remember?” She tacked on the end of her sentence to jog his memory. As if he had forgotten what he told her in his office a month ago about how they needed to place a boundary. Clearly, it wasn’t going to work so why deny them the pleasure of each other’s company even further?

“Is this what you want?” He pulled her face from his chest, using one of his fingers to support the underside of her chin. At this moment, he wanted eye contact with her, he wanted to make sure she was telling him what she wanted. He didn’t want to guess or have to read between the lines; he had to know. Did she want him?

“I want this,” she puffed out a breath, sleepily fluttering her eyes. “Really, I want this.”

“I think,” he breathes slowly, bringing his finger to her lips and wiping off the residue of his mouth. He had half a mind to leave it there for him to admire under the dim kitchen light, “I want to do this with you too. We just have to be careful.”

“Right,” her sleepy eyes settled upon his brown curls. “No one can find out.”

“It’s not that,” he shook his head and grasped her hands once more, bringing their hands enclosed together to his chest. She could feel the thump of his heart against her chest, “I want to protect you here.” And she knew he meant her heart.

Stars circled around them, enclosing them in their own bubble against the word. It was at this moment she took the time to look at him, really truly see him for what he was. She had done it once before when she first met him, but she tried not to do it again to keep her heart from fluttering at an alarmingly fast rate. But now she felt like she could appreciate his beauty for what it was; she was comfortable with that. Harry’s jaw was sharp and clean-cut like he was cut from stone. The apples of his cheeks were kissed by angels, pink and rosy. His eyes were a clear green, the type of green that flourished in the forest and faeries hid in. He wasn’t just handsome. No, he was more than that. Truly, he was beautiful. A spark twitched in her chest, an appreciation that he wanted her the same way, too.

“Stop looking at me that way,” amusement flickered in his eyes, but longing swam in his bones as her gaze studied the intricacies of his facial features.

Confusion appeared on her face, “What do you mean?”

“Stop lookin’ at me like I hung the moon and the stars, and make the earth spin on its axis.” He was only teasing her, and it was something she was still trying to get used to. Sometimes, Y/N was a very literal person, and couldn’t pick up on teasing or sarcasm on the first go. She had to dissect the conversation a little more before she could be certain teasing and sarcasm were at play.

“I think you did,” she hummed and his chest thumped faster against her hands. Y/N liked that she was making him do that.

Rose-colored blush presented on his cheeks, and with a successful feeling stirring inside her, she pressed a kiss to the tops of each cheek.

“Do you think I could tell Mallory?” If there was one person Y/N wanted to tell, it was Mallory. Well, Niall too, but she knew that she didn’t need to ask Harry about that. It’s not like Niall was one of his TAs too.

“Yes, Sweetheart. I think that would be fine,” without hesitation, his lips collided with hers once more, but the words he murmured when he pulled away caused a breath to catch in her throat, “You’re very pretty.”

____

Tomato sandwiches were currently Y/N’s hyper-fixation meal, and as Mallory talked and Y/N listened (no surprise there), she gnawed on the edge of her sandwich.

The pair had been eating lunch together in the cafeteria. Mallory was fighting a rough breakup, and Josh would not stop texting her. At one point, Mallory handed Y/N her phone and told her to just scroll through. It was a series of apologies, ‘it will never happen again’, and ‘I need you.’ Y/N was proud that Mallory basically told him to swim in the stream of his own tears, then blocked him. After Josh realized Mallory blocked him from texting her, he moved to other forms of communication, but this time he was no longer texting her apologies and they were actually quite alarming messages.

“Do you wanna hear what I think?” Y/N asked before giving unsolicited advice. If Mallory didn’t want to hear what Y/N was thinking, she wouldn’t just spring that information onto her. Through the course of the past couple of weeks, Y/N began collecting her thoughts on the situation. She didn’t want to give advice or put in her two cents prematurely, but as the situation between Mallory and Josh got worse and worse, Y/N was sure her thoughts on him wouldn’t change.

“Of course I do. You’re my friend,” Mallory insisted, waiting for her to give some humbling advice. It wasn’t often Y/N asked Mallory if she could offer her thoughts on the situation. As time went on, Mallory noted that Y/N wasn’t the talkative type. While she always had great things to add to the conversation, if she didn’t want to speak then she wouldn’t. Sometimes Y/N only wanted to listen, and that was okay with Mallory. In truth, Mallory thinks they balanced each other well.

“I think you dodged a bullet,” Y/N said a little loudly over the sound of sports players rushing into the college cafeteria, heavy cleats clicking against the tile sounding louder as they passed by the pair trying to enjoy their lunch in peace. “And you’re my friend, too,” Y/N added at the end there.

“You’re right,” A sorrowful sigh escaped from Mallory’s lips, indicating to Y/N that even though she was right, Mallory was still sad about it. Y/N really, really didn’t want her to be too sad over a guy that was proven to be disgustingly manipulative. Maybe Y/N wasn’t the best judge of character, a little too trusting, but the red flags Josh was displaying toward Mallory were enough for Y/N to know that his intentions were not very good.

“What did you think of my friend Niall?” Y/N asked. After Y/N and Niall got home from their “double date” (she used that term very loosely), Niall wouldn’t stop talking about how funny Mallory was. He kept saying that she was better than the comedian they had all saw before the nightclub came to life, and that next time they should put her on the stage. He also kept saying that she was very pretty, and Y/N noticed the sheepish glances he threw in Mallory’s direction throughout the night.

“He was very fun to be around,” Hesitation was laced in Mallory’s tone, and if Mallory didn’t know any better, she thought Y/N and Niall were finally together. “Are you guys finally together?”

“No! Ugh!” Y/N threw her hands up in exasperation, dropping her tomato sandwich back on the paper napkin she packed in her lunch pale. “I want to set you guys up on a date. I don’t like Niall like that! Actually, I’m seeing someone. He’s not my boyfriend or anything, and he might not even really like me like that, but he likes to kiss me.”

Mallory paused for a moment, scrunching her nose and finally nodding her head in response to Y/N, “I would probably like to go on a date with Niall. If he’s chosen you as a best friend, I know he’s got good taste.”

Y/N’s cheeks warmed, “Well, then, good. Because I know Niall would like to go on a date with you.”

Mallory backtracked for a moment, the words Y/N spoke finally processing fully in her head, “Who are you seeing? And, I think the term you’re looking for is hooking up. If you guys don’t actually like each other like that and it's purely physical.”

Purely physical? Is that what she wanted? Y/N brought her voice to a whisper, glancing around to see if anyone was trying to listen in on their conversation (they weren’t) before murmuring, “Harry.”

Mallory’s face didn’t drop in shock, her face didn’t contort with disgust, but her eyes sparked with delight. “You might be the luckiest girl alive.”

____

“Now when you read this concept from the book—”

“Would you go out with me, Mallory, and Niall on Friday? We’re going to play putt-putt, and I’m trying to set them up,” Y/N interrupted him, surprisingly for the first time during their one-on-one lesson today. It wasn’t that she wasn’t paying attention, but about ten minutes ago, she realized her attempt to set Niall and Mallory up was going to turn into her being the third wheel. Now, there was nothing wrong with that, but she had a feeling once Niall and Mallory got their hands on each other, they wouldn’t take them off. If Harry agreed to come along at least she could use him to escape during the date, and it would be fun to see how he gets along with her friends. Obviously, Harry and Mallory get along well in a work-type setting, but she wanted to see how they could get along as simply friends.

With delicacy, he shut the book. If there was one thing Harry could pick up on, it was when Y/N’s brain was becoming overloaded with information. She couldn’t retain an information dump the way he could, so he adjusted to the way she learned best because all he wanted was for her to be as comfortable as possible. Sometimes he thought about the way, with teary eyes, told him she didn’t want him to think she was stupid. He never wanted her to feel that way again.

“Could we make another deal, Darling?” Harry’s fingers grazed the underside of her chin, pushing it up just a tad so he could get a full view of her face. Viewing her face in full was a must for him, he was constantly imagining that face when she wasn’t around.

“I am open to making a deal,” the words came out slowly, her head nodded with each syllable, and she tended to like the deals he made with her because there was always some sort of benefit for the both of them.

“If I come with you to see your friends, would you come with me to see mine on Saturday?” He didn’t want to pressure her into coming. In fact, he thought about asking her but decided against it because he didn’t want her to feel obligated. When she brought up the question about him tagging along with her, Mallory, and Niall, he thought maybe he was in the clear to ask her a similar question about meeting his friends, but then her face fell in what he thought was… Hesitation?

“What’s the occasion?” The pressure was applied to his fingertips as she glanced down at her hands in her lap, and she began picking at the sides of her fingernails. She wanted to meet Harry’s friends, but she was nervous about being around large groups of new people. At least when she hung out in big groups with Niall, she had him around her at all times, and by now, she was so used to Niall’s friends, it wasn’t uncomfortable to strike up a conversation with his pals.

“It’s a wine night. My friend Mitch is hosting this time. It’s basically a small party. We wear nice clothes, drink wine, listen to music, and catch up. It’s proper fun,” Harry was trying to make the environment as calming and fun as possible, realizing the hesitation on her end was just nerves.

“Nice clothes?” She questioned and had to physically stop herself from picking at her nails by grasping at the edge of the table otherwise she would make her skin go raw.

“Not super nice, just not sweatpants and jumpers since it won’t only be our immediate friend group. Sometimes we do that when it’s purely game night, drinks, and a movie,” he explained, and he knew exactly what to say to get her to agree so he added at the end, “I’ll even wear that satin shirt you like. You know, the one that has my tattoos peeking out. The one you drool over.”

With an eye roll and a defeated puff from her lips, she finally gave him the answer he was hoping for, “I’ll go with you.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Y/N stood from the chair and stretched out to rid the aches in her joints from sitting in one position for too long. “Do you think we could watch a movie?”

“Anything for you,” he spoke softly and honestly, the gentle tone ringing in her ear like music. His voice was a symphony made just for her, “You know that.”

____

The words that tumbled from Y/N’s lips in the middle of the movie really caught Harry off guard. It was her delivery, actually, that had him furrowing his eyebrows and asking her to repeat the statement one more time just in case he heard it wrong. It was unprompted, there was no sign indicating that’s how she was feeling (specifically at that exact moment), and the look on her face was of shock like she hadn’t meant to say it; it just kind of slipped out.

“I said,” She cleared her throat and he felt her cheeks heat beneath his fingertips as she spoke. The pair were uniquely sitting on the couch. Harry was sitting with his legs kicked up on the coffee table, and Y/N was sitting with her head in his lap and her legs taking up the rest of the unused couch space. As they were watching the movie, Harry would stroke her cheeks or run his fingers through her hair just to feel her, “I would like to do more than kiss.”

If Harry was trying to keep a composed face, free of shock or confusion, he was almost positive he was failing. His lips and eyes felt too numb to actually realize how he was looking at her. How could he lie and say he didn’t want to do more than kiss either, he just wasn’t sure how to initiate it given their circumstances— and why would he deny her what she wanted?

“What do you want to do, then?” He spoke the words clearly, that lustful tone leaking past his lips and soaking her with it,

“I’m not,” she began, pausing for thought, “As experienced as you, I think.��

Harry nodded, encouraging Y/N to continue. He could tell there was something on the tip of her tongue, the words she was failing to formulate stuck in the back of her throat, begging to come out.

“Well, I just think...” she picked her head off the warmth that was his lap, “You’re very good at teaching. Would you teach me? I want to be good for you.”

It turns out that Harry was going to make her work for it, he was going to make her say the words out loud. His ego was slightly inflated by her gentle words, calling him a good teacher and asking him to teach her. Harry didn’t like assuming, but from what he was understanding, she wanted to teach him how to feel good and make other people feel good. Though, Harry didn’t think she would need much teaching as half the time he has to go close his eyes and take a few deep breaths to will his stiff cock away.

“Teach you what, Darling?” His fingers were grazing the inside of her thighs, telling her he knew exactly what she wanted from him. He was just slightly devilish, wanting to hear the filthy words fall from her lips.

Sighing, she moved her thigh into his touch. Begging, pleading, wanting... “Please don’t make me say it, Harry.”

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me? Hm?” Harry continued to work his fingers up her thigh until it rested just above the button of her pants where he was waiting to help her out of her pants. At this point, he was no longer assuming, he knew exactly what she wanted; she wanted to hit that sweet spot, she wanted him to get her there, to ride it out on him and hit that euphoric state right in front of him.

With a shuddering breath, she responded, “Yes, yes... I’ll be good. Just please.” Her fingers reached for her button, gently touching Harry’s own fingers, and her pants were off in a matter of seconds. She thinks she heard something about him saying she was so good for begging him for it, but the words didn’t register as he gently pulled her across his lap so that each leg was on either side of her thigh. Her wet center was directly on his thighs, and if she knew any better, she could have come right on the spot.

“Would you look at that?” His fingers strode up her slit covered by the fabric of her white panties, “I can see you straight through your panties, Darling. How long have you been this soaked?”

He prompted her to start rocking against his thigh, so she did as she was told and began moving up and down. The friction was enough to make her let out a noise she had never heard from herself before. As of now, she wasn’t embarrassed, just full of wanting, needing, and lusting. She would be embarrassed by her desire and the sounds she mewled atop his thigh later, but for right now, she just wanted to feel good.

With one quick motion, he was stimulating her clit, making her feel so many things, so many emotions, she could barely handle it. She continued to rock against his thigh, and if she didn’t know any better, he may have shifted his leg upwards so that she was getting the best possible access to his leg. This was going to be her new obsession; she was going to stare at his thigh at school and wonder what it would feel like for him to take her right into his office, she was going to drool over it while they studied and beg him to let her feel good because she can’t focus until he lets her come.

“Those are such pretty noises,” he commented when another moan slipped past her lips and her head threw back as he gripped her hips and brought her closer to his crotch.

She looked down, taking in his cock through his sweatpants. God, he was so pretty. Hard against the fabric of his pants, and the tip was leaking just enough for her to notice through the gray cotton.

He glanced down at what she was staring out, a smirk playing across his lips. She was simply everything. So good, so sweet, so attentive. “You’re gonna come just by looking at my cock through my pants?”

She didn’t have it in her to feel ashamed when she felt this good. All she could think about is how he would feel inside her, how his lips would feel around her neck. Even... how his hands would feel around her neck, claiming her as his own. In response to him, she just moaned and mumbled something— slightly incoherent, it took him a moment to decipher— “Want to feel your cock inside me.”

____

Harry was over the moon with the phrase that tumbled off her lips in her pure, unadulterated need for him. As much as he wanted to give her what she asked for. She was such a good girl, she deserved the whole world. He wasn’t sure how well she would be able to take it now. Y/N was already overstimulated by his thigh and his fingers circling her clit when she let out an unrestrained moan, threw her head back, and her thighs tensed around his, he knew she was going to come. But, he wanted her to hold out, just for a little bit.

He couldn’t help it; she looked so pretty like this. She looked like she was made for him, like a puzzle piece that fit on his thigh so well, there was no possible way the pair weren’t made for each other. Longing glances and looks filled with need had been exchanged by Harry and Y/N for quite some time, sometimes in between classes he’d have to give his cock a proper tug, otherwise, he would have been walking around stiff— and aching— for the rest of the day. He wanted her so much, it was unbelievable. But, Harry wanted her to make the first move, he wanted her to be sure this is what she wanted, and when she finally looked at him with that needy gaze, he knew he had to give her what she asked for.

“You’re not ready for my cock, baby. You’re so needy, hm?” It was slightly condescending, and what did it say about her that tightness in her belly coiled when he called her needy? He was right, she was needy.

“Can I move against your cock the way I am now? With your pants still on? Need it. Really need it,” Her words were jumbled together, separated by moans filled with desire as she moved in up and down motions against his thigh. He knew if he gave her what she wanted, she would come right then and there, as soon as her core touched the hardness of his cock, and maybe he was a little selfish for it, but he wasn’t ready for her to get there.

“That’s not how you ask, Angel. You know your manners. Use them.” The slight reprimand made her toes curl, and when he realized that she liked it; liked being reprimanded and it was definitely getting her off, he stopped her rocking motions by digging his fingers into her hips and giving her a pointed look; the same look he gives her when she’s not paying attention while she’s studying. It sent waves through her, and she felt like she was floating on a cloud.

“How do you ask?” He prompted, encouraging the words he wanted to hear.

“Please, may I?” She tried to rock once more, but his fingers kept her in place. A sensual gaze lingered on her features, looking him up and down like she could swallow him whole, and how could he say no to that?

“Good girl,” he brought her left leg over his other leg so that her pussy was in full contact with his clothed cock. Before she started rutting against him, moaning, and throwing her head back in pure carnal desire, he decided he would give her a little incentive. “If you hold out for me, give me ten more minutes of seeing you look so pretty as you rut this pussy against my cock,” one of his fingers moved from her hip where he was holding her in place to the slit of her pussy and worked it’s way over, slicking his finger with his wetness and popping it in his mouth to see how good she tasted, “I will let you watch while I run my hand over my cock and make myself feel good, hm?”

A jumbled yes came from the back of her throat, and he used his fingers that were against her hips to help her find her rhythm against his cock. He could have come right there at the sight of her, but he was good at holding off, good at edging himself. It was something he wanted to teach her how to do. How to get to that good place, then rip herself away from it. In the end, all of the frustration makes the orgasm worth it.

She tried to last, she tried to make those ten minutes, but she just couldn’t. With a cry, she warned him, “Harry... I can’t. I can’t wait. Please.”

“That’s okay, baby,” Harry comforted, letting her know that it was okay. He would teach her how to stave off soon enough, but right now he was more concerned with her feeling good and comfortable.

That was all it took her to that nice place. As her orgasm filled her body, lingering in her bones and warming her skin, she came against him. Pulling away as her nerves were overstimulated and sensitive, sweat beading at the top of her forehead, and mewling noises coming out of her lips. He thought she looked beautiful.

Quickly, she took herself off of him, not able to handle the overstimulating she was feeling in her core and in her brain. She tried not to look at the wet spot she left on his thigh, and directly on his crotch.

He could tell by the way her eyes averted, and she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear that she was feeling embarrassed, but he didn’t think she should feel so ashamed for feeling good. She should never be ashamed of that. With a gentle finger, he lifted her chin from her downward stare into her lap and whispered softly, “Don’t ever feel embarrassed about that. Do you see how hard you’ve got me?”

Heat flooded her cheeks, warming her skin, and that coil she felt in her lower belly when she first started grinding against the muscles of his thigh stirred in her once more as she eyed his hard cock covered in her wetness. “I don’t get to watch you now because I didn’t wait?”

How could he deny her what she wanted when she was so, so good for him? Listening attentively, asking politely, and being so sweet to him? “I’ll let you watch. We can call it a consolation prize.”

Heart fluttering, she shifted slightly so she could get a full view of this. His eyes darkened as he slid his sweatpants down just enough to pull his cock out of his boxers. It sprang out, the tip a blissful pink color, and she thinks that her mouth has never watered so badly. He was even bigger than she had been able to realize through his sweatpants, and it all made sense. He was sweet, but calculated and there was a rough edge of confidence laced in the way he speaks. The size of his cock matching the confidence of his personality wasn’t anything that should surprise her.

When Y/N let out a soft, sultry, sweet-coated moan at the sight of his right hand clutching the base of his cock and tugging upwards, Harry realized three things about her that he would dissect later.

Y/N had an extreme praise kink, thinking back to how she sucked in sharp breaths when he told her what a good girl she was, and how she moaned at the sight of her reward.

Y/N got off on a slight reprimand from him, seeking guidance and his stern words fulfilling something deep in the pit of her gut.

Y/N might have been crafted just for him, and he, just for her.

Just the look on her face was enough to make him come on the sight, but she had done so well, he wanted to give her a little bit of a show. With each movement calculated, he lifted his shirt just enough for her to see his abdomen then grabbed the base of himself and stroked upwards, using the precum oozing from the tip as a lubricant for his hand.

“Would you do me a favor, sweet girl?” He asked her, his eyes remaining fixed on her as he watched how her body reacted to his words and movements.

Eyebrows furrowed, she responded so sweetly and sincerely if his eyes were closed, he would have sworn there were droplets of honey dripping off her lips. “Yes,” she almost begged, “What can I do?”

Harry guided her head with his hand, gripping his fingers around the back of her head and lowering it so she was adjacent to the head of his cock. Eagerly, she thought he was going to let her wrap her lips around his so she moved her head a little closer, and when he realized what she thought he wanted from her.

“No, baby, not yet. I just want you to spit on it for me, hm? Let me use your spit to work my cock?” He knew the words were filthy, and he knew it sent a shiver down her spine. She opened her mouth, just a little so closely to the tip of his cock that her top lip just swept over it as the wetness from her mouth dripped down him.

“Fuck, baby,” Harry guided her head back so that she was sitting directly in front of him with a perfect view of how his hand brought him to his own tipping point.

He leaned his head back against the couch, eyes fixated on hers as her gaze didn’t stutter from his hand. A little bit of drool leaked from her lip, but she quickly caught it, finally breaking her gaze from his hand and looking to see if he saw that.

“Quite literally drooling over my cock, are you?” It fueled his ego, working his hand harder over himself as he realized what an effect he had on her.

Finally, he was there, eyes locked on her and reaching his pinnacle. His own sweet spot washed over him, ripping a moan from his throat and filling the living room air. Silky whiteness spurted from the tip of his cock and onto his abdomen, and she had to stop herself from leaning down and tasting him. She just wanted to taste him, but how could she voice that? The combination of wanting to taste him, the way his face contorted with pleasure, and the sound of his deep-provocative moan that gathered in the back of his throat and then filled her ears worked her back into that sweet place with no stimulation from Harry or even herself. As he worked himself down from his own orgasm, guilt washed over her face and he couldn’t help but give her a lazy-half smile. “What?” He asked gently.

“I think...” She shoved her face in her hands, the bashful person she was shining through what they had just done together, “I reached that spot again when you let that sound out. I just, I just felt so good.”

Eyes fluttering shut, he took in her words. “Baby, I’m so happy you felt so good. When was the last time you felt like that?”

Y/N just shakes her head, the words caught in her throat. “I don’t know if I’ve ever felt like that with anyone else— even... even myself.”

He just smiled, glad that he was able to get her there, and then hooked his hand under the backside of her knee, pulling her close for a sweet and simple kiss compared to what they have just done. While his lips were still pressed against his, he spoke, “I think we should get cleaned up.”

“I think so too,” Y/N smiled into the kiss, and Harry thought he would give up anything to stay like this with her forever. Talking with their lips pressed together, his hands all over her, and her hands all over him.

“Would you mind taking a shower with me?” It sounded so intimate rolling off his tongue, but that’s what he wanted with her—intimacy.

“I would love that,” his heart leaped at the realization that she wanted the same things as him.

____

“I’m a bit of a sore loser, baby, so please tell me you’re good at putt-putt,” Harry said as his hand grasped the steering wheel of the car. He was driving them to putt-putt golf with Mallory and Niall. Niall had decided he would take Mallory out to lunch before the other two joined them to get some one-on-one time together.

Y/N noticed a shift in their relationship after he had made her orgasm twice without doing much, and after she watched him tug away at his cock. She was more comfortable with him, more open to asking him questions, and Harry absolutely loved it. Just a few days ago, she asked him (without Harry having to work the question out of her) when she could taste him, and he told her, in the most gentle way possible, that he wanted to go slowly. He just wanted to make it special for her.

At first, she was nervous to ask him when she could taste him, not quite sure how she could voice the question, but as a few days passed, she realized that there was never any judgment or harshness in Harry’s tone.

“Well, I’m not very good at putt-putt. And maybe I’d like to see you a little pouty,” she reasoned with him. She always felt like she was the pouty one, maybe it would be a nice change of pace to see him pouting for once.

“Y/N, you know I could never be pouty around you. You make me too happy.” Harry explained, taking one hand off the steering wheel and linking their fingers together, and bringing her hand to his lap.

Y/N decided she was just going to enjoy the drive, and the simplicity that was her, Harry, Niall, and Mallory enjoying their afternoon together.

As it turns out, Y/N was really good at putt-putt, though she had never played before in her life. Niall and Harry got to talking about how they both liked playing real golf and made plans to go out some weekends together. It made Y/N’s heart turn, just a little to see her best friend getting along with Harry so well. They seemed like they were really hitting off (and not to Y/N’s surprise at all, she knew this would happen, Niall and Mallory were very much enjoying the company of one another). By the end of the night, they were sharing drinks and then spent the night tucked into Harry’s chest.

Y/N was happy. Very happy.

____

Y/N was not happy.

Harry’s friends were not as nice as he had explained them to be. Well, maybe it was just one friend that left a sour taste in her mouth and made her stomach fizzle with anger; possibly even jealousy.

The evening started off great. She wore a simple, yet elegant, midnight green dress, and Harry (as promised) wore that cream-colored satin shirt with midnight green slacks to match her accordingly. He ogled over her the minute she stepped out of his room wearing that green dress, looking as lovely as ever.

When Harry was done swooning and gawking over her, he led her out to his car and began driving in the direction of his friend’s house. Y/N noted the beautiful scenery on the way to the house, and when Y/N finally commented on the scenic drive, Harry explained that his friend lived in a winery.

“On a winery?” Y/N questioned, making simple conversation as they drove up a windy road with a narrow pathway, barely able to fit two cars. “Is your friend a vintner?”

Harry nodded in response, throwing over the occasional glance as he drove, though it made Y/N nervous for him to take his eyes off the road ahead of them. She trusted him though and didn’t make any comments about how the drive was making her feel. Part of her didn’t want to say anything because she wasn’t sure if the drive was making her feel a little queasy or if it was the fact that she was going to a party latched onto Harry’s arms. She was about to meet his closest friends, and even though he said they were nice, she knew she would be under a degree of scrutiny. She was coming as his date, of course, they were going to look at her with cautious-watchful eyes, so they could reconvene later in the night and ask one another, what do ya think of Harry’s new girl?

Before Y/N even knew it, they were parked in a round-a-bout driveway, and Harry was helping her out of the car. She must have paled on the drive up, because when he took her hand in his, and lead her up the stairs of the beautiful home, he leaned over and whispered in her ear, pressing his lips against the lobe, “Feeling okay?”

A nod came from her in response, and before she could even respond verbally, the person who was lingering on the other side of the door quickly threw it open. A chill ran down Y/N’s spine as she thought of Harry’s lips against her ear. They hadn’t done anything from when they sat on the couch and Y/N came on his clothed cock. She had brought up how she wanted to taste him, but they haven’t had the chance to yet, and Harry had told her that he wanted to take things a little slow. She understood. How could she argue with that?

“Oh, come on in before you two get cold out there,” the man standing on the opposite side of the door said to them as he noted the chill that racked through Y/N’s body. It wasn’t the cold wind, though the wind was colder than it had been these past couple of Spring days. It was the thought of Harry’s lips against her ear, and when she looked over at Harry and saw the way his lips curved upward in a devilish grin, she knew exactly what his plan was. He did that on purpose, he was trying to work her up.

Like Harry told her, the man lived in a winery and before she even had the chance to learn his name (it was Mitch she found out a few minutes later), he was thrusting a glass of red wine in between her fingers. She took a couple sips, mumbling something about how it was sweet, and without hesitation, Harry leaned and whispered something naughty in her ear, causing heat to flood her face and between her legs, “I bet you taste sweet, baby.”

They mingled, and Y/N who normally felt overwhelmed in situations like these was actually doing alright. It might have been the way the wine was starting to flow through her veins, or how genuinely kind Harry’s friends actually were (not that she doubted him very much, but you never know), but she was actually enjoying her time.

Well, she was enjoying her time until Harry ruined it by whispering the filthiest things she’s ever heard into her ears. In fact, she was beginning to feel flustered, because she wasn’t sure her panties could handle another bout of wetness before it started dripping down her leg. Her dress only hit below her knee, so if it began running down her leg, people were bound to notice and she didn’t think she could handle the shame.

So, she stood there, with her legs crossed, wine glass in her hand, and pouted. He could tell he got her there; to the point of frustration that she would burst at any second. Her responses to him were becoming short and pointed, bratty even. If there was one thing Harry could teach her, it was how not to be a brat. It was how to ask for what you wanted because all she had to do was say the words and he’d take her right into the bathroom and let her have that release.

When they had finally broken free from the conversation they were having with Mitch and… Well, Y/N actually didn’t grab the other person’s name because of the frustration filling her from head to toe, Harry grabbed her upper arm gently and pulled her so close to him that her chest was pressed against his, “Won’t you tell me why you’re acting like a brat?”

Disappointment donned her features. Was she acting like a brat as he said? If so, she really didn’t mean to, she just couldn’t help it. The words fumbled from her mouth quickly as she straightened her back just a little bit so that her body language didn’t look so dejected, “Sorry. I don’t mean to act like a brat.”

“I didn’t ask for an apology,” he stated and the sternness in his voice made her core ache even more than it already was, “I asked for you to tell me why.”

She gave in to his request, hoping that if she told him why she was acting like a brat, he would tell her what a good girl she was for listening. “I’m so wet, Harry.”

His cock throbbed against his slacks, and he murmured softly against her neck, pressing a soft kiss just under her ear, “So instead of acting like a brat, what should you have done?”

“I should have told you what was bothering me,” she guessed, not quite sure what the actual answer was, but it seemed good enough for him because his response was exactly what she was begging for.

“Good girl,” he pulled away from her, resting his fingers just under her chin, and hummed out, “Now should I take care of you?”

She only nodded.

____

The bathroom of the house was big enough to fit them both in there and when Harry sat her on top of the bathroom counter and hiked her dress out, he grumbled out a “Fuck, Y/N.”

She wasn’t being dramatic when she said she was so wet. If he kept her out there for five more minutes, she would have dripped down her leg, and Harry doesn’t know what it says about him the fact that that turns him on so greatly. For his friends to see just how much of a reaction she has to him. How his words can get her mewling and thrashing and moaning.

Quickly, he tugged her panties off and shoved them into his pocket. She was still up on the counter, watching his movements with lust-filled eyes, and leaking onto his wrist that he had pressed against her center. His hand was gripping the counter, the inside of his wrist pressing against her and when he moved, even slightly, she would let out small, sharp gasps. “Can I touch you?”

“Please,” she responded, and that was all he needed before he began working her to that special spot. His fingers, covered in rings, slipped inside her slowly, so slowly it was agonizing. He didn’t need her to lick his fingers, offering that extra lubricant because she was so wet that she was soaking the counter. He flicked his fingers upward, hitting that soft spot inside her, and when he finally found it, her eyes widened, as she had never been stimulated there before. It only took a few motions in and out of her, before her walls began squeezing around his fingers. Right before she was about to come, about to hit the peak of her orgasm, he pulled his fingers out of her.

Eyebrows furrowed, she questioned his actions, “Why did you do that?”

“I’m not ready for you to orgasm just yet,” he said softly, his green eyes glimmering with want and need.

“Please?” She asked, “I-I need it!”

Normally, she would feel embarrassed by her begging, but right now she didn’t have it in her to feel embarrassed. The only thing she had in her was that she wanted that orgasm to encompass her, sending her body to that place she went when she was rutting against her thigh.

She was so beautiful and so lovely that he couldn’t deny her of that, and he knew it, so he slipped his fingers back into her with careful precision and stimulated that soft spot inside her once more. She let out soft moans filled with nothing but desire, and she squeezed around his fingers once more before letting her orgasm rip through her. He worked her down with his fingers, and when she looked up at him with a sleepy gaze, he knew she was feeling much better; the frustration completely obliterated from his body.

Although, when he brought his fingers, covered in her wetness to his lips, licked it off with his tongue, and said, “I was right. You do taste sweet,” she thinks she could have gone again.

Harry helped her get her panties back on, and hop off the counter of the bathroom, promising that when they got home he was going to help her shower the stickiness from in between her thighs and take good care of her. She knew she was safe with him, and it was possibly one of her favorite feelings in the entire world.

“Why don’t you go back out there, love? I’ll clean up here and be right out.” He bargained with her, and she followed his instructions because it probably wouldn’t look too good if the both of them slipped from the bathroom at the same time.

Harry’s plan was to clean up, but he had to relieve himself somehow too.

____

Y/N’s eyes searched the room, and she found the girl she was chatting with earlier— Colette was her name, she finally remembered and blamed the sexual frustration on her jumbled brain and her post-orgasmic state on her clarity over Colette’s name.

Across the room, Colette sat with a few other girls, and Y/N thought that the best thing to do while Harry was cleaning up in the bathroom was to make her way over there and hop in the conversation, so that is exactly what she did.

She sat directly next to Colette, and jumped into their conversation a few times, adding a few things here and there to keep herself present in the conversation. It wasn’t until Harry finally slipped from the bathroom, signaling that he was going to get them a drink that she felt a sense of relief.

One of the girls next to Colette’s eyes followed Y/N’s to Harry and when she saw what Y/N was looking at she interjected with a, “Don’t even bother with him. He’s a nice guy, but he’s not the relationship type. He only fucks, but nothing else. Trust me, I’ve tried. Also, the rumor is that he brought a girl with him this time around, and good luck to her, because she doesn’t know what she’s in for.”

Y/N’s mouth dropped open in pure shock, and Colette’s face whitened as she grasped Y/N’s hand, “Emma!” Colette said in a harsh whisper, “Why would you say that?”

Colette helped Y/N up, and Y/N couldn’t even feel mad at the girl— Emma, she guessed— because it was not like she knew that Y/N was the girl Harry brought along with him tonight. Her stomach dropped, feeling icky and displaced as she walked alongside Colette and toward the kitchen where Harry was striking up a conversation with someone, two cans of some liquid Y/N couldn’t quite pinpoint in the palm of one of his hands— his big, big hands.

“Don’t listen to her, she’s just cross because Harry only wanted to be friends with benefits with her. That is not how he is with every girl, I hope you know that,” Colette whispered, guiding her by the small of her back toward Harry.

Did Y/N know that? She didn’t think she did.

What if that is what Harry wanted from her? What if he felt nothing for her at all? What if she was merely a conquest for him?

Y/N decided not to say anything about what Emma said to her as Y/N and Colette entered the conversation Harry was currently participating in.

Harry rested one of the drinks on the counter and popped open the other with his fingers, handing it to her, then pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. Was that a good sign?

For the first time since she began studying with Harry, Y/N felt stupid again.

____

Harry was completely oblivious to the internal turmoil Y/N was facing, but how could he have known when she slipped on a mask so well?

After he had finished up in the bathroom, he couldn’t stop thinking about how Y/N was the only thing that occupied his mind. He filled her thoughts, her scent infiltrated his apartment, and her smile when she walked into his class was the thing that kept him going on days when he was more tired than he should have been.

He thought he made it so obvious how much he cared for her. There was no way she didn’t know how special she was to him.

Y/N, he thinks, was perfect for him. And he was perfect for her.

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pinkhoneydrop · 6 months

Text

Please…Mr. Ghostface

[ A/n ] - please be warned this is 18+ but please enjoy : )

[ Pairing ] - Boyfriend!Harry x Reader!

[ Genre ] - smut

Y/n comes home to a gift wrapped box from Harry and what’s inside might be worth a scream or two

[ Masterlist ]

“Don’t move another inch.” Harry sat at the edge of the bed with his hands resting between his spread knees. He stared at you through the mesh of the mask he wore. It was his idea. Role play was never your thing but if the masks had anything to do with it you could get into it.

“Get down, on your knees.” His voice was so strong. So deep like he was speaking with lust behind every word. You came into the bedroom after your shower thinking you were going to be getting ready for dinner. You we’re instead greeted with a pristine white box with a note written on top.

“Crawl for me.”

When you opened the box all you found was a brand-new lingerie set. The Lacey bra on the top. And the lacy bottoms on the second layer. And the mask sat underneath the last layer of parchment paper. You took in a sharp breath as you lifted it up and read the second note attached “I’ll be ready for you, and I want you to be ready for me.”

“Yes, Mr. Ghostface.”

You had to stop yourself from moaning audibly when you saw him sitting waiting for you to get ready. Dressed in all black clothes that you set out for him to wear to dinner. A black button down that hugged his arms exactly right when he had the sleeves rolled up like you like. Exposing his tattoos that you were running your hands over right now as you sat panting at his feet. Black slacks held up by a glossy black belt that were tight around his thighs and of course we can’t forget the mask. His cherry on top that you couldn’t wait to pop. It took everything in him to keep composure as he watched you crawl across the floor for him. Your ass looks impeccable in the black lace and the bra fit your tits perfectly.

Harry almost let out a whine because of the look you were giving him. Your perfect little face perched on his thigh. Your fingers danced around his belt buckle. Your eyes looked at him like you were asking permission. He nodded up and down letting you know it was okay. A deep sigh left his lips as you unbuckled and unzipped his pants. His dick had been growing in his pants since he saw you dressed in the doorway.

Your hands were warm as they reached past the waist band of his boxer briefs. You were practically drooling when you took it out of the confines. He was pretty and his dick was nothing less. A long shaft and pink as his lips at the tip.

“Fuck.” He couldn’t keep it in the anticipation was too much. Harry let out a strangled moan as you kissed the tip. You smirked as you slicked a strip up from the base to the tip leaving another kiss at the tip. “Fuck, baby.” Harry said as you palmed him in your hands.

He groaned as you bobbed your head. You pull off with a soft popping sound. Tilting your head to the side you lick up the side of his member. As you reach the top you look up to meet Harry’s gaze. His eyes were hidden but that didn’t stop you from looking though. He was so handsome. You imagined how His eyelashes would dance across his cheeks as his pupils darted back and forth even when his eyes were closed. Even when his expression was impossible to see you could tell he was enjoying himself from the moaned he let sip freely from his lips. Feeling a little bold you took him in your mouth again. You bobbed your head again and you took him as far as you could.

“Fuck baby, just like that.” Harry moved his hands down to your head. He wrapped his hand in to your hair as you lowered your mouth on to him. As he hit the back of your throat you gagged causing him to moan.

“Oh, that’s it. Keep going.”

You gagged around his cock once more and then lifted your head. You release your mouth around the tip with a pop. Looking up at Harry you tilt your head and kiss the wrist of the hand that was retreating from your hair. A smile briefly crosses his lips, and they bump against the mask. It took you no time at all to resume bobbing your head up and down his length. You lifted up to kiss the tip and then went down to suck on his balls. You gotta stop.

“Stop, Stop!” Harry put some feeling into his voice as he gripped your wrist to stop you from stroking his dick.

“I have so much more planned for you darling.” Harry stood and looked at you from the ground; he reached out and caressed your face with his fingers.

“Over there, y/n” Harry nodded over to the dresser where he wanted to have you. He spoke like he was commanding you and all you wanted was to obey. You looked at him from your spot on the bedroom floor. You stood before him in nothing but your bra and underwear set. When you moved, Harry moved as well. The two of you were in perfect sync. He stood close and his breath hit the edge of the mask making a menacing sound as he loomed over your face as if he was going to kiss you. You looked deep into the dark pits of the mask trying to see his eyes. His hand slipped around your neck. Your breath cut short, and a soft whine left your lips as you stared into the mask.

“Who do you belong to?”

His voice was unwavering as he spoke to you. You couldn’t help but smirk as he tightened his grip on you and squeezed your neck a bit harder. Your lips parted and your jaw loosened as his grip hardened.

“Don’t make me ask twice, baby you know I hate that. A good slut uses her words.”

The silence in the room built up and it scratched at Harry’s brain as he watched you. Tears welled up in your eyes and your hand reached up to rest on top of his. His hand fell from your neck, and you took a sharp breath. You had made a mistake. Looking away from him and leaving the smirk on your face pulled him back into the moment.

A hard smack met your ass cheek, the flesh stung. With one hand on your hip and one on your shoulder he moved you, so you were bent over the dresser. His hands moved to grip your hands and hold them behind your back. That mask was something else. Transforming your loving man into a domination machine. Harry huffed as he bent over to speak in your ear. He lifted his head and yours, so you were looking at each other. Your hair fell into your eyes a bit, but you focused enough to see the reflection.

“Are you going to behave now?” He chuckled as you whined again.

“Yes” your chest was pressed into the wood of the dresser as Harry pinned you down with his weight. Your deep breaths made your cleavage rise and fall dramatically. Harry tilted his masked face as he spoke again.

“Yes what?” His voice was firm and rough as he pressed into your back. You moaned as he grinded himself against you.

“Yes…Mr. Ghostface”

A smile etched its way across Harry’s lips under the mask after hearing you. With his own leg he kicked your legs apart. Sitting up harry laced his fingers under the fabric of your underwear. He tugged and pulled at the clothing until they fell down on your legs just enough to expose you.

“Please.” You cried out. Harry could see you were getting desperate, so he glided his fingers close to your clit without touching it. You squirmed trying to get him to touch you were you wanted but this wasn’t about you right now. He wanted to see how far he could push you. See how much you would put up with.

“Shh, just relax.” Harry spoke low as he lifted a hand and rubbed lightly against your back. You shivered as his fingers danced across the skin and then you felt two of his fingers slipping against you just past your nerves. They stretched into you, and you moaned so softly that Harry barely heard it.

You were heating up if you were being honest with yourself. A pit formed in your lower stomach and his teasing was doing nothing but making it ache. Something about the mask and how he was roughly handling you sent shockwaves through your body. You were bent over the dresser with your bra on and your underwear halfway down your legs and your boyfriends’ fingers inside of you. Moving his hand, Harry eased his middle finger inside you again. You felt him pump them in and out over and over. The slickness between your thighs spreading as the anticipation caught up to you. You laid your face down on the cool wood of the dresser as you waited for what was to come next.

“Stand up for me.” You sighed as you felt his fingers leave you, but you obeyed. Standing up you looked at yourself in the mirror. Sweat began to form on your temples and on your chest but before you could say anything harry was whipping you around to face him. He stood so tall in front of you. You trembled with excitement as he lowered onto his knees in front of you and moved to grip your calf. After removing your underwear Harry lifted one of your legs over his shoulder. It had to be a sin the way you almost melted at the sight of him in that position. Fingers glistening still from being inside you and your leg resting on his shoulder as he wore that black and white mask. Harry wasted no time in lifting your other leg to rest on his other shoulder as well. Did he know you would be able to stand once he was finished with you?

“Here let me help.” You reached down between your legs and lifted his mask so that his mouth was free. You were met with a menacing smile and a kiss to your wrist.

“The things that I am going to do to you, baby.” Harry breathed out against your navel. His fingers gripped the flesh of your thighs, and they wandered lower until he got to the place you needed him. Your breaths were uneven as you anticipated what he would do. Harry pushed the mask out of the way giving him a nice view of you. He spread your lips apart with his middle and index finger. A moan escaped your perfectly shaped lips when you felt his slender fingers, he glided a finger over your clit working you up and you tilted your head back in pleasure. He poked his tongue out and licked at you causing you to take in a sharp breath. Harry took that a sign to keep going and began to suck you into his mouth and prod at you until you were a mess underneath him. Your eyes flutter closed when Harry sucked particularly hard.

“Oh god.” You moaned out. Your face flushing as Harry continued, licking from your entrance to your clit. He teased you like this until you couldn’t keep still. A knot formed in your belly. Harry finally gave in and sucked your clit into his mouth swiping his tongue over the sensitive spot till you were panting like you just ran a marathon. The warmth you felt as Harry’s tongue was on you was incredible. You bucked your hips into his face as he sucked your clit into his mouth once more. His lips pulsing around the nerves making you cry out.

“Please Mr. Ghostface.”

Your hands tugged mercilessly at his mask. Harry moved one hand and used two fingers to help bring you to your release as he hummed against your clit. Harry thought that the two of you could stay like this forever. Pleasuring one another until all the time in the world was exhausted and nothing was left but the pair of you. Harry was everything to you and you would do anything for him but right now in this moment with your man between your thighs sending you to another dimension with his tongue you knew he would do anything for you.

“Mmm…” Harry let out a loud groan when you tugged on the exposed strands of his hair. A smirk shaped your face as you looked down to see two eyes staring back at you. He smirked and sucked your cum off his fingers. Harry’s eyes bared a challenging glance as he stood up. His hands returned to your thighs, and he held you close as you lowered the mask back down. You rested your hands behind his neck, and he pulled you away from the dresser.

Harry crossed the bedroom in just seconds. Long legs striding across the ground until the two of you reached his desired destination. The first thing that was remedied was your bra. After tossing you into the mattress he reached behind you with one hand and undid the clasp expertly. Harry to a second to appreciate how lucky he was to have you so gloriously naked in front of him.

“I need to fix this.” Harry spoke while you looked up at him from your spot on the bed. You weren’t sure what he meant until he moved you himself. His hands were rough has he flipped you over and pulled your hips up. You heard shuffling behind you and felt the mattress dip as Harry took the spot behind you. His slacks were pushed down just below his bottom and his shirt was unbuttoned allowing his skin to press directly into yours. A moan left both of in unison as he rubbed his tip along your slit and rubbed your clit with the end of his length. Your hips twisted as he kept rubbing against you. And then Harry thrusted in with no mercy. His hand was pressing to your back to deepen the arch.

“Ohm shit, right there.” You whined. Harry grunted and shifted his hips. He would be damned if you were going to do this to him. He picked up the pace and began drilling into you. Felling your stomach get tight you reached back to find your clit, but Harry slapped it away with his. You felt his fingers find your clit and rub into it.

“Fuck Harry, I want to cum so bad.” Harry immediately stopped. His hips stilled and his finger froze.

“What did you just say?”

“Please…Mr. Ghostface.”

“that’s what I though.” It was as though he went into hyper drive. His fingers and hips resumed in double time and your body began slipping forward. Harry abandoned your clit to yank you hips back in place. You practically screamed as his pace didn’t slow. “Come for me baby.” He said in your ear and instantly your body shuddered as your orgasm hit you. Having not cum yet Harry continued to thrust into you.

“Please…it’s too much.” You whined. At this point Harry was just chasing his own orgasm. His hips kept ramming into yours as he sank in and out. One hand left your hip and snatched the mask off his head, and it landed on the pillow beside your head.

“I’m almost done princes.” Harry forced out. You moaned in response as his thrusts fell out of rhythm. A second orgasm close because of the over-stimulation. You tightened your core and Harry moaned at the feeling.

His body slid down on top of you, and you tried turning to face him. Harry graciously leaned back and maneuvered your legs so he could see your face. There he was in all his glory leaning over you. Looking into your eyes he smirked and kissed your lips softly. You giggle as some of his hair fell in your face. His hands trailed up your body and he placed a Kiss to your nipple. You keen into Harry’s touch as he brushes his thumb across the other one grazing your nipple. You grind your hips into his to create friction between yourselves. Your actions elect a soft groan from Harry. Pulling him closer you moaned something incoherent into his ear.

“W-what?” Harry says as he slowed his pace down completely. Harry didn’t know what to think of what you said. You groaned as he dragged against you.

“I said, come inside. Please.” Your voice hoarse from screaming out before. Harry wasted no time after you said it again. His Hips resumed a steady rocking, and he was close to finishing. A grunt left his mouth before he thrusted back into you and released. The feeling sending you over the edge and another shudder runs through your body. Not even bothering to move out of the way you let Harry collapse on top of you.

“I think I’m going to keep that mask for next year.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles x black!reader #hslot 2023 #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff

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walkingintheheartbreaksatellite · 8 months

Text

Summer Love

(Long Hair Harry Styles x Reader)

Warnings- smut: Slight hair pulling, nipple play, p in v, oral (female receiving), breeding kink, spanking, daddy kink

A/N- I know what you’re thinking. Smut?! Em! I never knew you had it in you! Yeah well surprise!

Summary: Harry surprises Y/N with a picnic yacht date while he’s on break from tour. But he has other plans. Smut, if you don’t like it, please see my masterlist for my non-smut work!

>>>—————————————->

“Hurry up, Y/N! Let’s go!”

I giggle and shake my head at his eagerness. He grabs my hand and starts pulling me towards the dock.

“Harry, why are we even doing this? What’s this big surprise?”

He turns and gives me a sheepish smile before he lifts me into his arms and carries me the rest of the way, walking onto a yacht he rented. With a kiss to my cheek, he sets me down on my feet again.

“Get yourself comfy, Y/N. Just got to get a going and then we’ll get to your surprise. And before you ask- no, I don’t need help. I got it love. Just sit there looking beautiful as always.”

I blush and giggle as I sit down on the cushioned seat, eating for him. As soon as we get far enough away from the shore, Harry begins to pull things out and sets them up on the floor. When he’s finally done, he runs over to me and takes my hand excitedly. He pulls me over to the front of the yacht where he has a little picnic set up.

I tear up slightly and throw my arms around him, to which he hugs me.

“Harry! You didn’t have to do this!”

He lifts me up and spins me around just a little before he sets me down.

“I know, but I wanted to. You’re so supportive when I’m on tour and I wanted to show you how much I appreciate you.”

He guides me to sit down on one of the cushions, and I remove my sandals as he takes a seat across from me.

“I do it because I love you. You know that.”

He opens up the champagne bottle before he looks at me.

“Yes, but to matter what time zone I’m on, you stay up to talk to me after the show… You never miss our goodnight call.”

He pours champagne into 2 flutes before he pecks my lips and hands me one. I smile and take a sip of my champagne.

“I’ve got all your favorites, minus sushi. Wouldn’t do so well being out like that. And-.”

He pulls out a small bouquet of Daisies and hands it to me.

“Picked them myself. Hope they look okay.”

I smile and nod before I lean over and peck his lips.

“They’re beautiful! You did a great job.”

He smiles and fixes me a plate with all my favorites. After a couple hours, he cleans up and we lay cuddled up on the blanket. I’m about to fall asleep when Harry pulls me on top of him, and I look at him in surprise.

“Harry-.”

He smiles and pecks my lips.

“I’ve missed you, Y/N… So much. I know you’ve got work and you can’t tour with me but… I’ve just… I’ve missed you. All of you. And I never have the alone time to do what I really want…”

He adjusts me in his arms and something becomes very apparent to me. He’s hard.

“Harry-.”

“Tell me to stop, Y/N. Because if we start I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

I lean down and kiss him, Harry immediately melting into my lips. His grip on me remains sure as he flips us over. He pulls my sundress up and throws it behind him, leaving me in the matching set he has bought me a couple months before.

“Fuck look at you. Wear this for me, did you love?”

I giggle and shrug.

“Maybe. But you know, I think you’re wearing too much and we need to fix that.”

I unbutton his dress shirt and he slips it off before slipping off his shorts, leaving him in his signature Calvin Klein boxers. He unclips my bra and as soon as it’s out of sight, he begins to kiss and nibble down my body.

He pays extra attention to my breasts, his teeth biting at my nipples before he sucks slightly, moaning on my sensitive tits as I squirm underneath him.

“H-Harry… Please… Wanna taste you…”

He lifts his head up and smiles, shaking his head.

“You know how I love giving you everything you want, but that’s the one thing I just can’t give you right now. Now, sit up. Take off your panties. Then come sit. You know where.”

He lays back and I sit up, doing as he instructed. I slip off my panties and sit on his chest, one leg on each side of him as I wait for further instruction. He slaps my ass rather harshly and I can’t help but moan at the contact.

“That’s not what I said, baby. Sit. Now. Don’t make me tell you again.”

I nod and scoot up a bit, hovering my sopping wet core over his mouth. Another slap hits my ass and I squeal, collapsing out of reaction. He wraps his arms around my thighs, securing me in place as he begins his attack on my clit.

“F-fuck Harry!”

Another slap hits my ass and I squeak. He growls and scolds me from between my legs.

“That’s not my name right now, love. Say it right or you won’t say anything at all.”

I bite my lip and nod as he continues to lick and suck on my clit, biting lightly every little while.

“D-Daddy! I can’t! I-I think I’m gonna come!”

He slaps my ass again and pulls me down more, sucking and licking as I moan and pant.

“Come for me, Y/N. Do it baby. You can come.”

I lean down and grab his hair, lightly pulling as I start to come undone.

“Fuck Daddy! Y-You’re tongue! Mmm!”

I pant as I come down from my orgasm, Harry rubbing my thighs to soothe me.

“Up, baby. I’m not gonna wait anymore.”

My legs shaking, I scoot myself back down before I roll myself off of him to catch my breath. Before I catch my breath, Harry is already rolling on top of me, pinning my hands about my head.

“You know… We wouldn’t be so frustrated if you were on tour with me. Maybe I should just- put a baby in you. That way I can keep you with me. How’d you like that baby?”

My eyes widen and my mouth gapes.

“Y-You’re kidding. You want a baby?”

He nods and leans down, pecking my lips.

“I want a little you. And a little me. I want it with you, Y/N. Can I..?”

I bite my lip and I nod with a blush.

“Do it. Let’s have a baby.”

He smiles and kisses me fiercely. He moved his hand down to my clit and I grab his hand to stop him.

“Don’t. I don’t need it. I want it hard, Harry. I want you.”

He smirks and spanks my ass again. He lines his cock up with my clit, rubbing his tip against a few times before he pushes all the way in, hitting my g spot almost immediately.

“D-Daddy!”

He smirks and jerks his hips, causing me to cry out.

“That’s right baby. Gonna make me a daddy, aren’t you? Gonna look so perfect, big and round with my baby. You want that sweet girl?”

He starts thrusting at a steady pace, groaning as he thrusts.

“Fuck! Daddy! H-Harder!”

“Yeah baby? Think you can handle it? I can feel how close you are. Hold it for me, sweet girl. No coming until I do.”

He starts to thrust harder, hitting my g spot with every thrust.

“Gonna be such a good mumma, aren’t you baby? Gonna look so beautiful feeding our baby… God I get so hard even thinking about seein you nice and pregnant. Never gonna stop fuckin’ my sweet girl.”

He continues to thrust, going harder with each thrust when eventually, he starts to groan loudly and pant.

“Fuck Y/N! Baby! I’m gonna come! Come with me, baby! Come with daddy!”

I cry as I ride out my orgasm, clinging on to Harry as best I can as I feel him spill into me, burying himself deep inside.

“F-fuck… Harry…”

He pulls out and he keeps me in his arms, kissing my forehead a couple times and he cuddles me.

“I love you Y/N. So, so much. It’s just you and me.”

I smile and peck his cheek softly.

“Don’t you mean us three?”

He smiles devilishly and holds tightly onto me, knowing that it really was us. Just Harry, our baby and our future.

>>>———————————->

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@be-with-me-so-happily @swiftmendeshoran @babyiamperfectforyou @freedomfireflies @kaminokatie @harrysmimi @violetsandfluff @fruitmans @fruitmansrecs @harringtons-honey @rafaaoli @kimmi-kat @erggggggggg @cayleyhannha-blog @acesofspadess @that-mcu-fan @styles-barnes-bitch @purple9950 @justmystyles @itslottiehere

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trulyonlygrapejuice · 6 months

Text

Mirror, Mirror On The Wall...

I... honestly don't know where this came from. I finished it while half asleep so forgive the writing quality dropping towards the end. I'm not much of a smut writer, so... good luck?

Warnings: Smut, sub Harry, handjob, edging (m receiving), pain kink, crying?? I guess? Also some (short) but slightly fluffy aftercare at the end

Wordcount: 1.5k

“Shit-”

“You know the rules, baby. Look.”

Harry trembled against your chest as he whimpered, thighs quivering where they were hooked over your own. It was hard to remember how the pair of you had ended up here, the haze of lust and want clouding your mind as your hand gave Harry another long, tantalizing stroke. You didn't even really know how long you’d been at it, but from how wrecked Harry looked… it had been a while.

You could see how tearstained his cheeks were in the mirror in front of you both and could feel the warm drops splatter against your collarbones when he threw his face into your neck with a cracked moan. It was delicious. It gave you such a power rush at the sight of such a broad, well-built man crying in your lap, lips bitten a tantalising raspberry red from when he tried pointlessly to muffle his loud noises. Harry’s glazed mossy green eyes met your own in the mirror, watching almost dejectedly as your hand danced away again from where he ached most. He didn't even try to beg you this time, head falling back against your shoulder, eyes shut in defeat, slumping slightly into your arms with a groan.

You let him rest for a moment, your hand tracing faint lines across the taut lines of his abdomen in fascination, eyes watching his chest heave and Adam’s apple bob when he swallowed sharply. He was so pretty like this, skin shiny with sweat and flushed pink with exertion, head thrown back and his unmarred throat exposed. It was tempting to suck deep purple marks there, mark him for weeks, but you feared any more pleasurable torture would make him fracture, turning him into wobbly slush in your hold*.* Soft lips only left a soothing peck there, your chin settling back on his shoulder as Harry took a shaky, scratchy breath. **You let your eyes wander to where his hands had relaxed on the bedspread, painted nails glinting in the dim light as his fingers painstakingly relaxed, stiff and wooden from where they had been clenching around warm, white fabric. Another calming kiss to his shoulder. “You okay?” He only hummed tiredly, and you could see his cock bobbing slightly in the mirror. “I need words, Harry.” He took a deep breath and lifted his head. “Y-yeah. I’m okay. Just… a bit floaty.” He fell quiet then, eyes blinking slowly at your own in the mirror, body tensed, waiting for you to do… something.

Your finger ran slowly teasing circles down his abs, lips biting back a smile as they tensed and twitched at the featherlight touch. Harry whined softly, hands gripping tightly at the bedspread again while his hips tried to buck up. Your other hand kept him pinned as he keened faintly, not even seeming to be aware of his anguished noises. You ignored it, eyes locked on the way his angry red cock twitched against his lower belly, precome bubbling from the slit and dribbling down slowly as your hand crept closer. It looked painfully hard by now, the head beginning to turn an uncomfortable shade of purple, as more precome blurted out against Harry’s skin. The sight didn’t surprise you, you’d edged him, what, three times before this? That was his usual limit, but you were planning to push it tonight, as discussed. Only by one more time though, no matter how much Harry had insisted he could take it.

You carefully wrapped your hand around his base, smiling into his shoulder as he practically sobbed, going fully limp in your arms. After one stroke, he was trembling, after two, he was babbling nonsense while staring at the vulgar view of himself in the mirror. “Thank you, thank you- oh fuck-” You hummed encouragement while he mewled brokenly, your hand twisting as your stroked up, thumbing once at his slit just to make his breathing stutter.

He was so warm and wet in your palm, it was absolutely filthy. It was debauched, the way he pulsed under your fingers and whimpered in your ear. “You really close, baby?” The noise he made was indecent when he realised what was happening, hands almost tearing at the bedspread and hips trying to buck up into your hand to chase his end. “Y-yes-” Your hand fell away to rub soothing circles on his thigh and he almost screamed, back arching before falling limp against you with a wail. It almost scared you, seeing him so distraught but you could just see the glint of half-crazed delight in his lidded eyes. It made your mind spin, knowing you did that to him. That you were making him feel this good. You just had to trust that Harry would tell you if it was too much.

“Did that hurt?” You couldn't help asking, fascinated at the way he arched and writhed as if in despair but still moaned and mewled in bliss. Pleasure tinged with pain was not something you had… tested out for yourself but it intrigued you to no end. “Like a bitch.” His voice sounded rough and ruined, but the undertones of utter satisfaction were still clear as he grinned. “Just the way I like it.” You huffed, pinching his hip lightly to make him squeak and flinch, but it broke into a groan as his cock bounced against his abdomen. “Yeah, you masochist.”

Through the mirror, you could see him breathing heavily through his nose as his cock settled back against his skin, his face beginning to lose the enjoyment and border on actual pain. You couldn't help frowning slightly, hand running gently up and down his thigh to try to comfort him. “Still okay?” He whined softly, eyes flicking open to reveal glazed, dopey eyes. “It’s j-just really sensitive now.” You cooed softly in sympathy, pressing kisses across his shoulder to try to settle him a little bit. “Oh, I know. But you did it, managed to go further than you did before. Let me make you feel good, then we can have a bath and go to bed. That sound good?” Harry sighed weakly, leaning more into you, his back feeling flushed and sweaty against your bare chest. “Y-yeah.”

You didn’t waste a moment, quickly grasping his angry red cock and beginning to stroke quickly, now completely focused on making him come and getting him tucked into bed. Harry whimpered loudly as you pumped him, one of his hands sliding up to cup the back of your head and pull your face into the crook of his neck, while the other gripped your forearm in an iron grip. It felt like the gates had been opened as he thrashed in your lap, and you couldn't help nipping and sucking your way across his unmarked skin. His fingers tugged harshly at your hair, a muffled moan falling from your lips as you bit harshly at his shoulder, tongue quick to soothe the sting. The pain only made him moan louder, and your other hand fought to keep him steady in your lap as he squirmed. It was clear that he was close already, the night of teasing leaving him far too sensitive and aching to last any longer. “You can let go whenever you want, baby. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He sobbed quietly as your fingers worked their magic, hands falling from where they gripped you, floppy from exhaustion against the bedspread. “Come on, darling, let go for me.” It seemed those words were all he needed, coming with a long, tired-sounding moan, come spurting high enough to hit the edges of his butterfly tattoo. Some of it dribbled down your fingers, and you couldn't help licking the warm salty liquid away as you moved Harry to lie back. He looked like he had passed out, eyes fluttering and mouth slack as he lay there, hands twitching occasionally. It was a sight to behold, and it was difficult to leave him there as you fetched a washcloth to clean him up. God knows he needed it.

It took a few minutes for Harry to properly come back to you, sprawled on his back while you wiped him down gently with a washcloth. The poor thing looked exhausted now, eyes fluttering and chest heaving, the picture of ruined and freshly fucked. Hickeys littered his shoulders and neck, red flush and sweat adorning his skin while his hair was mussed in every direction. It was a view you never wanted to forget and when you saw his moony eyes gazing lovingly at your face, you knew you never would.

“Don’t fall asleep yet, love. Just a little longer for me, okay?” Harry could only groan in response, slumping forward so you could wash the shampoo suds out of his hair. You giggled from behind him, quickly rinsing his hair out while he stayed slumped, blinking sluggishly at the bubbly bath water. “There, all done. Now you can sleep, my love.”

Manoeuvring a half-asleep Harry from the bath to your bed was certainly a mission and Harry himself wasn't much help. He was bigger and crucially, heavier than you, so it took quite a bit of tugging and pushing from him to curl under the sheets. He was asleep almost from the moment his head hit the pillow and the sight made you smile fondly, fingers brushing rogue damp curls from his forehead. You settled in next to him, tucking him into your side while he snored softly. God, you loved him.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles headcanons #harry styles fic #x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader smut

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kilistina · 1 year

Text

friends, right? pt.2

you didn’t really think i’d leave you hanging like that, did you??

word count: 4.2k-ish

disc. nsfw content ahead. mdni. includes fem!reader n harry styles, daddy kink ig, teasing, praise, oral, sexy time, bold ass language, best friends but not really vibes n other hot shit.

read pt.1 here <3

•••

You open your eyes with difficulty, finding it hard not to melt away at how good Harry’s thigh is making you feel. If he’s making you feel so good by just sitting there and letting you use him, how good could he make you feel if he actually does something to you himself? God—

“Gonna cum for me, love?” Harry’s voice is in your ear and all you want is to come undone, “Can feel you shaking already.”

“Fuck—” You struggle to keep your eyes open as you moan, “I’m..H—Harry I’m—”

He cuts you off with a kiss, and you moan into his mouth, “I know love, s’okay. Let it happen, let it out. Let me feel it,” He whispers as you pull away, his eyes set on yours as you continue to move your hips along his thigh, “Cum for me, Red.”

Oh. Oh.

Your mouth falls open, your eyes rolling back as your orgasm takes you by surprise, crashing down all at once. Your legs begin to shake and Harry holds you in place, his hands by your waist as he watches you.

“There you go,” He whispers words of praise to you, kissing your neck as you throw your head back lazily, “Theeere you go, love.”

You whimper as he continues to move your hips against him, letting you ride out your high.

“Yeah? I know, poor baby,” He smirks at how fucked out you already are, taunting you, “So good for me, hm?”

You bite down on your lip and nod, and he leans in to bite it himself. You melt against him, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to deepen your kiss.

“Stand up.” He murmurs against your lips, and you oblige.

He grabs a hold of your hand, knowing you’ll need it in a second. You struggle for a moment when you first get up, using Harry as support. It takes you a few seconds but you’re able to stand.

Harry’s eyes are on you and he’s taking you in, looking at you properly for the first time since you took your clothes off. He was in such a rush before, such a rush to let you use him, such a rush to make you feel good—that he didn’t realise how fucking sexy you look with nothing covering you up.

As he’s looking at you, you notice that the situation isn’t very fair. You haven’t got any clothes on, and Harry’s still got his boxers on. Normally you wouldn't think that that’s a lot of clothing, but compared to what you have on..

Harry seems to read your mind, smirking and reaching for his boxers when you reach forward and stop him.

“Wh—” He furrows his brows at you, confused.

“Let me,” You whisper, reaching for his boxers yourself.

Harry arches his brow at you slightly, clearly not expecting for you to be so direct with him. He’s always seen you as the innocent one out of the two of you. You were never the type to sleep around or have meaningless sex the way a lot of your other friends—including him—would. Harry’s always expected for you to be the shy, innocent fuck and you’ve always been fine with it because what’s wrong with that? And you’ve never felt the need to prove yourself to anyone and he has no idea and oh you’re going to enjoy this.

You give Harry a quick kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth to make him think that you’re about to kiss him for a lot longer than you actually are. When he leans into your touch and tries to grab a hold of your waist to deepen the kiss, you pull back, breaking away. Harry tenses his jaw. You’re teasing him. It’s working.

“Red..” He murmurs your pet name as if to warn you not to go too far, to warn you not to torture him with your touch.

You look at him and smirk, sinking to your knees. His eyes follow you and his lips part in anticipation as you reach for his boxers again, your eyes still glued to his as you start to palm him through his boxers.

“Fuck,” He breathes out, his eyes widening at the feeling of your hands against him. “Oh, fuck—"

You bite your lip and reach your fingers under the hem of the fabric, slowly pulling it down. You’re agonisingly slow. Seeing Harry’s chest rise and fall at the rate it is, is only making you want to go even slower.

He’s giving you front row tickets to your favourite show.

“P—please, love,” He murmurs, cupping your cheek and running his thumb along it for a moment, “Take ‘em off for me.”

You smile up at him and nod, satisfied with his desperation. When you finally pull them down that little bit more, his cock springs free, slapping up against his stomach. He sucks in a breath as you reach forward, wrapping both of your warm hands around him.

You look up at him, flattening your tongue against his tip and licking him once. Just once.

He tastes so good that you struggle not to taste him some more.

His head tilts back against the wall and his mouth hangs open, slack as a string of dirty words fall from his lips. He’s tense.

“Relax, H,” You whisper, looking up at him innocently as you use his own words against him, “Let it happen,” You place a kiss to his tip, “Let it out,” You lick him, “Let me feel it.” You wrap your mouth around him, bobbing your head until he’s completely lost in you. Harry sucks in a breath, looking down at you with his lips parted.

“Fucking god—fuck—shit—” His eyebrows are knit together, in complete disbelief at how fucking filthy you look for him right now. Here you are, on your knees in front of him with his cock in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat over and over and over and over and over again. Harry’s never felt like this in his life. He’s never gotten head the way you’re giving it to him. He’s never felt so many things at once. He’s never been so taken back by how good someone’s making him feel. He’s never been lightheaded. Never. Not like this.

The best part? You look like there’s no place you’d rather be.

He lets out a moan, beginning to losing his mind as he tightens his grip on your head, tugging your face up so he can get a better look at you, “Fuckin—” He lets out another moan when you smirk at him and exhale, feeling the vibrations on his cock, “Y/N—love—I’m—”

You move your head up for a moment, replacing it with your hands, “I know, H,” You whisper, “It’s okay.”

His eyes screw shut and he throws his head back, groaning and moaning and whimpering all at once, “Aaah fuckin—”

You take him back into your mouth. His fingers grasp at your hair desperately, as if he’s drowning and you’re his life raft, and his hips jerk towards you, faltering as he begins to reach his limit, “Fuck,” He drops his head to look down at you, his lips parted as he pants out your name, “Yeah, fuck—Red,” He reaches down and strokes your face with his thumb, taking in the sight of you as you continue bobbing your head, “Yeah. Fucking yeaaah,” He bites his lip, another string of moans escaping his mouth all at once, “Can’t take it, fuck—”

You bob your head faster. Suck harder. Move your tongue around. Move your hands against his balls. You do everything you can. And Harry loves every second of it.

You don’t stop when you feel your throat filling with his cum, you don’t stop when he falls back against the wall from how hard his orgasm hit, you don’t stop when he tells you how good you are, how well you took him, how badly he wants to fuck you. You don’t stop until he’s cumming down your throat a second time, his legs beginning to shake from the sheer shock of it. His moans are broken, you can’t understand a single thing he’s saying to you but you know he’s saying a lot.

You pull away from him with a pop, pressing a soft kiss to his sensitive tip as he shivers under your touch. You like having the upper hand. Even if it is just for a moment.

“There you go, daddy.” You whisper, standing up and smirking at him as he tries to catch his breath.

“Say that again,” He stares at you with a hunger you’ve never seen before—from anyone—reaching his hand over to grab the back of your neck and pulling you closer to him, “Say it again. Call me that again.”

“Daddy.” You smirk and he moans, pressing his lips to yours.

“Fuck,” He whispers against your lips, holding your face in his hands and pulling you as close as he can have you, “Fuck.”

You giggle against his lips, loving the effect you have on him. It’s nice to see and feel how you make him feel, it’s oddly validating.

“Need to taste you so bad, Red,” He murmurs against your lips, desperation clear in his eyes as he searches yours for an answer, “Can I?”

“Please, yes.” You nod as he pushes you back on the bed, towering over you and reconnecting your lips within a second.

He breathes out, feeling your fingers graze his skin, tracing over the tattoos he has scattered across his arm. Your lips are back on his. He lets you take the lead, leaning into your touch and moaning into your mouth as you continue to trace his heated skin with your fingertips.

He can’t think straight. He can’t form a single, coherent thought because of your hands on his skin. The way you feel, the way you taste, the way you’re touching him.

You can’t think straight, either. It’s almost laughable—how long you’ve both wanted this. How badly you’ve both wanted to invade each other’s personal space like this. Neither of you think you can ever stop.

You grab his hand, guiding it to your chest and letting him feel you. He moans against you and pulls away for a moment to look down at you. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lips are parted as he palms your chest with his hands, quickly moving his mouth to cover yours as you begin to moan.

You feel Harry’s tongue grazing against yours, over and over again, deepening the kiss more and more until you’re practically inhaling each other. When you both finally break away for air, you can’t help but stare down at his body. So perfect. As confident as you are, you still can’t believe that you have someone who looks like Harry so desperate for you. Harry’s wondering how he got so lucky, too. He can’t believe that he’s able to see you in your entirety. What a privilege, he thinks.

His kisses trail down your neck first. He makes sure to suck on your skin just enough to mark it, teeth grazing the sensitive areas as you hum in response. He gets to your chest next, not wasting a second to wrap his lips around your nipple, reaching his hand over to play with your other one. His eyes close in bliss as he darts his tongue out to flick your nipple. You whimper. If this is how good—how quick—he is with his mouth—with his tongue—you can’t imagine how good he’ll feel with his head between your legs. You won’t have to imagine it. You’ll feel it soon enough.

You moan out his name and his eyes open, setting on yours as he moves to give your other nipple the same attention. His cheeks hollow as he sucks, his eyes still set on yours, his hands still all over you, his mouth moaning around your skin. You bite your lip so hard you feel it sting. You’re losing your fucking mind.

He moves his head up, your nipple still caught in his mouth as he continues to suck, letting it go with a pop. You gasp at the feeling, and he does it again. And again. And again.

He does it until you’re whining, until you’re bucking your hips up desperately to get some sort of friction.

“Patience, Red,” He chuckles at your desperation, beginning to kiss down your stomach, “I’ll make it worth the wait. Make you feel so fucking good. Promise.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare down at Harry’s face, his head finally where you want it—between your thighs. He looks down at you, admiring how you look all spread out for him. You feel vulnerable but you couldn’t care less. You’re so horny, so worked up, so wet that you need an outlet. You need to feel Harry against you.

“P—please—” You whisper, “Please, H.”

“Please what, Red?”

“Please.”

He smirks up at you, “You want my mouth?”

You can’t speak. You nod.

“Here?” He looks up at you innocently, pressing a kiss to your left thigh. You shake your head.

“How about here?” He kisses your right thigh. You shake your head again, bucking your hips up. He chuckles and holds you down by your waist, keeping his eyes on yours.

“You don’t want it?” He’s taunting you.

You groan, “N—no—fuck—”

“Where do you want me, then?” He arches a brow at you, not giving in easily, “Here?” He looks down at your centre and you nod your head frantically, practically whining for him.

“Ask me nicely.”

“H, please just—”

He cuts you off by pressing a kiss to your clit. Your eyes close. You moan at the feeling of his mouth finally coming into contact with your skin, where you need him the most.

Your eyes close and you arch your back to feel closer to him, feeling him smile against you already. He hooks one of his arms under your thigh, pulling you closer and getting better access to you.

He flattens his tongue against you, licking a stripe up your slit and back down again. He strokes the thigh you have slung over his shoulder with one of his hands, using the other to rub circles on your clit.

“F—fuck—Harry—” Your eyes roll back, “Daddy—"

He moans against you, and your back arches. You let out a high pitched moan, a sound you never thought you could make. You’ve only heard sounds like his in pornos before. You can’t believe what’s happening to you.

“Feel good?” Harry looks up at you, still rubbing circles on your clit and breathing against your skin. You nod.

“Say it,” He pulls away, staring at you, “Tell me how it feels.”

You struggle to move your mouth. Harry smirks.

“S—so—so fucking—mmmm—” Your mouth falls open in a gasp as Harry’s mouth is back on you, lapping at your skin. He slows down every few seconds, somehow knowing exactly how to drive you insane. You reach your hands down and grip onto his hair, tugging it back. He smirks and looks up at you, dipping his tongue inside you.

Your mouth opens and your eyebrows furrow, but no sound leaves you. You’ve never been so..so fucked up that you can’t even make a sound. Whatever Harry’s doing to you, he’s doing it well.

He starts fucking you with his tongue, his thumb still rubbing circles on your clit as you feel your stomach tighten.

“Fuck H, gonna cum—gonna—fuckin—”

“Make a mess of me, Red,” He murmurs against your skin, “Make a mess of my mouth.”

“Yeah?” You pant, propping yourself up on your elbows, “Ask me nicely, daddy.”

Harry’s eyes close momentarily at your words, and suddenly he’s just as insane as you, “God, please. Let me taste more of you. Please—fuck—please.”

That’s all you need. That’s all you fucking need.

You let go of Harry’s hand and reach for the back of his head, pushing his face against you as you come undone. He moans against you and you feel his tongue against every inch of you, taking whatever you’re giving him. He can’t get enough.

A string of curse words leave your lips, along with whimpers and moans and more of those high pitched sounds you’ve only heard in pornos. You collapse against the mattress and Harry continues slowly licking you as you lazily ride your high out on his face.

“That—” Your voice comes out strained, “T—thank you, H.”

He places a kiss to your clit and chuckles, towering over you kissing you. You taste yourself on his tongue and moan, reaching around his neck and pulling him closer. He holds one of his hands next to your head to hold himself up, cupping your cheek with the other as you both deepen the kiss.

“Did so good for me, baby,” He whispers against your lips, looking in your eyes, “So fucking good for me.”

He can’t wait another second, he’s too eager to taste more of you. He leans forward in an attempt to reconnect your lips, but you stop him by placing a finger to his mouth. His eyebrows furrow and he searches your eyes for some sort of indication that you want him to stop.

You never want to stop.

You lean your head forward, your finger still against his lips as you whisper.

“Fuck me, daddy,” You take your hand away, keeping your eyes locked on his, “Want you to fill me up.”

Harry falters for a moment, his eyes widening as he processes the words that just came out of your mouth. You said all the words that he never expected you to say, all at once. Only an hour ago, you were both smoking a joint and speaking about how much things have changed between you. How strange that made you both feel. And now? Now you’re..well.

Feeling a lot better.

“Yeah?” Harry swallows, trying to contain himself somehow even though he knows there’s no use, “Gonna let me stretch you out?”

You moan and arch your back, nodding.

“Words.” Harry’s voice is stern and you just want to ruin him. The way you’ve both been switching all night, the way you’ve been driving each other insane. He was made for you.

“Use me, H,” You whisper, your voice desperate and strained, “Stretch me out.”

And he does. He slowly dips his cock in, starting with the tip to let you adjust. You both screw your eyes shut and gasp at the feeling, moaning as he begins to move inside you.

“Fuck,” He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, feeling you wrap around him, “So fucking wet.”

You whimper, moving your hands down to his back and clawing at the skin, “Just for you, daddy.”

“Yeah? Just for me?” Harry groans at the feeling of your nails across his back, “Mine, yeah?”

He knows what you’re doing. You’re trying to what, claim him? He doesn’t know what’s going through your head, but he knows that you want to mark him up. You want to mark him up well. Well enough that it’d be impossible for him to forget how good you’re making him feel. How nobody could ever compare. Yeah, you’re claiming him.

“Yours.” You breathe out as he begins to move in and out of you.

“Say it again, Red.” His voice is desperate, like he needs you to repeat yourself more than anything. He starts to speed up his movements, eager to feel as much of you as possible. You feel him hit your most sensitive spot.

“Fuck—”

“Say you’re mine,” He won’t stop asking until you give him what he wants, “Go on, say it.”

“I’m—fuck—I’m yours, H.” You gasp as he grabs a hold of one of your legs, throwing it over his shoulder to fuck into you deeper. He’s being relentless. He’s ruining you.

You want him to ruin you more.

He’s sticking two of his fingers down your throat, watching you as you suck and moan around them, “Again.” He takes his fingers out from your mouth, moving them down to rub your clit.

“I’m yours,” You let out a strained moan, your mouth falling open, “Are you mine?”

Harry’s movements are even faster now. You’re impressed. So fucking impressed at how he’s carrying himself. He’s picked up the pace, he’s circling your clit, he’s holding one of your legs above his shoulder and he’s driving you fucking crazy.

He lets your leg back down, spreading your thighs apart as he slightly changes position. He’s still on top of you but at a different angle. He towers over you, not slowing down—he wouldn’t dream of it—and moving his lips to your ear.

“Been yours for months,” He murmurs against your skin, making your eyes close, “Was just—” He grunts, “—was just waiting for you to notice.”

You can’t speak. You can’t form a single word. Your fingers grip his sides, your nails digging deeper into his skin until he bleeds.

“Shit,” He buries his head into the crook of your neck, teeth grazing your skin, “Oh fucking yeah.” Every sound that leaves his mouth is better than the last. You hear every moan, every gasp, every whimper leaving his lips.

He slows down his thrusts, making them harder and rougher and deeper. Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel him repeatedly hitting the best part of you.

“Right there—fuck—right there—!” Your voice suddenly raises and you’re practically screaming at Harry as he continues to fuck into you, his hand still circling your clit. You let out a string of moans as he moves his hand up from your cunt to your stomach, pushing down. Your eyes close at the feeling..until it stops.

You feel a hand come into contact with your jaw, grabbing it roughly and making your eyes open. You look up to see Harry staring down at you with his jaw tensed. He’s still inside you but he isn’t moving. You want him to move.

“Open,” Harry’s voice is stern as he lightly taps the side of your face, “I’m not going to tell you again.”

You nod and bite down on your lip, enjoying this side of him more than you could’ve ever imagined. He can be so caring, so good, and so fucking condescending.

You love it all. You want it all. You need it all.

He begins to move again, his own eyes closing for a split second before he catches himself and sets them back on yours. You furrow your brows, trying to control the moans leaving your lips as his thrusts grow faster and harder again. His hand drops from your face back down to your stomach, where it was before.

“See that, baby?” He applies pressure to your lower stomach, where you look to see the outline of where he’s penetrating you, “So deep.”

You whimper and you can feel tears pricking in your eyes from how fucking euphoric you feel. You never thought it was possible to feel so much at once.

Your back arches as his hips meet yours, slamming into you. Harry drops his head to your shoulder, letting himself feel everything he’s ever wanted to feel.

“Cum with me, Red. Cum all over my cock,” He groans, his lips brushing against your skin, “I belong to you.”

You smile, digging your nails deeper into his back, “You belong to me.”

Harry’s voice is something between a mumble and a moan at this point, an endless stream of curse words falling from his lips as he feels you clenching around him.

You both cum at the same time, moaning so loudly that neither of you would be surprised if you woke up without voices tomorrow morning or with a noise complaint from your neighbours. Or both.

He practically collapses on top of you, shifting to the side and falling on his back. You both pant, trying to catch your breath as you stare up at the plain beige ceiling above your heads.

“That was..” You trail off, struggling to find words as your chest heaves.

“Yeah.” Harry’s in the same boat, knowing exactly what you mean.

“Friends do that?”

Harry laughs. He really laughs. Like he hasn’t laughed in years. Claps his hands together, covers his mouth even though there’s no use. You laugh with him.

After a few minutes, Harry moves to stand up from the bed. You smile at yourself when you notice that he’s walking over to your side of the bed. The view isn’t bad either.

He holds his hand out to you and you grab it, standing up with his help. You both smile at each other and share a quick, soft kiss before making your way to the bathroom. Harry gets the shower ready and you both step under the water, closing your eyes and holding each other close for a few moments.

“I belong to you.” Harry murmurs against your hair, pressing a kiss to your head. You pull away just enough to look at him.

“I belong to you, too.” You smile. He smiles back, widely.

“We’ll see where this goes?” He asks, his dimples still on display from how wide he’s grinning. You lean forward and try to kiss him, feeling each other’s teeth from how hard you’re both smiling.

You giggle against his lips, looking up at him with adoration, “We’ll see where this goes, H.”

•••

aaand there we have it whores. i LOVED writing this one, it’s probably the most in-your-face smut i’ve written to date. hope it was worth the wait <3

lmk what you think. if you liked it please reblog and comment, i love seeing y’all interact w my stuff <3

my suggestions are open. if you have any ideas for shots or even fics, multiple part stories, one shots, blurbs, lmk. you never know, i might write ab your idea next.

as always, stay safe n be kind to yourselves. i’ll see you sooner than you think.

- k

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harrycanyonmoonn · 1 year

Note

Hey! Can u do long hair harry recs? Thank you.

sure

A/N: omg i had this request since August of 2022 i'm sorry to the person who requested this and this is my first post in 2023 I was supposed to post on NYE but somethings happened which caused me not post but spring break is happening this week so more posts should be happening enjoy this comeback post

LHH Masterlist ( @fkinavocado )

Even When The Night Changes Series Masterlist ( @be-with-me-so-happily )

Since Forever ( @satanhalsey )

— Can you write overprotective long hair harry... ( @muffindaddystyles )

Grinding on Harry's Hand (pussy cupping)(SMUT) ( @watermelonlovershigh )

Thank You, Next * ( @gurugirl )

Thank You, Next Pt 2

Again & Again* ( @gurugirl )

kiss on the cheek ( @harrysmimi )

P.S these are the only fics i had saved so if i find more i'm going to add it

#harry styles x reader #harry styles one shots #harry styles imagine #harry styles x y/n #harries #long hair harry #harry styles #harry styles x reader fluff #harry styles x reader smut #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles masterlist #harrycanyonmoonn #fic rec #fic rec list

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victoria-styles · 1 year

Text

Feel free to reblog lmao.

#victoria styles #harry styles smut #harry styles filth #smut #harry styles x reader smut #harry styles x reader #memes #dank memes #dank meme #mine #SpongeBob #Harry Styles #squidward #funny #lol #lmao #lmfao #please reblog #like

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acesofspadess · 8 months

Text

Currently Working

a/n: forgot to publish this again.....

“Y/N?” Harry confirmed making you drop your camera cautiously. “Y/N.” he repeated again before coughing into his fist. You as well as Harry were ready to catch a moment of this girl asking her crush out. The big screen flipped to you casted in a red light and even you had to admit you looked good. You smiled knowingly, chewing your gum, as anytime the camera was on you, someone was thirsting.

“You tricked me Anna. I've been had. Rats!” He joked and you brought your camera back up quickly to take another pic of him. “Oh i'm just seeing your t-shirt.” he laughed and walked away, you were now very interested in what the shirt said. “I mean… she’s right there.” he giggled and you laughed with him shaking your head as you were, right there.

“I don’t know what more I can do. She’s right there.” he pointed to you while looking at Anna, “Hi she said,' he teased, ‘Hi Y/N” he mimicked high pitched and you laughed again. “That’ll do it, yeah.” Harry was ruthless. You were going to her picture before Harry stopped you,

“Um Y/N, just a reminder that you are currently…”

working, yep, ah hah

You said exactly with him with a head nod. “You know, people need to work all the time don’t they?” he giggled roughly walking back over to Anna. “do whatever you want.” he said under his breath and you just looked at him like he was stupid. “Make some noise for Anna, and Y/N everybody.” you shook your head at him and made the two step trip to take a picture of her and her sign.

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User4 i could have sworn they were dating

User7 i thought so too

User3 so y/n is on the market????

#one direction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x famous!reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader smut #harry styles x reader fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #hslot harry #hslot23 #harry styles

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knowiloveyoubabe · 2 years

Text

Choke Her With A Seaview

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: 18+ SMUT!!!!! (oral sex - m/f receiving/giving; vaginal sex; light choking)

Summary: Y/N surprises Harry on their Valentine's vacation.

A/N: My first time writing smut!! I hope you all enjoy <3 (Lingerie inspired by Voight by Valentina's red heartbreaker set)

The balcony doors were ajar, allowing for the warm breeze to drift into the room from the ocean below. The sun beamed in on Y/N shuffling around the bedroom quickly, from throwing rose petals over the king-sized bed to trying to adjust the garters of her Valentine’s Day lingerie set. She wanted this day to be perfect for Harry, wanting to show him how much she loved and appreciated him. They’d been together for almost a year, and this was their first real vacation together, all planned by Harry to celebrate their first Valentine’s Day.

Of course, when Harry had first suggested the trip, Y/N had no idea he meant a private beach in one of the most romantic seaside locations in the Maldives! So, she had the genius idea of surprising him in a beautiful lingerie set, something she’d never done before.

“Why’d I tell him to grab breakfast? That takes 15 minutes tops!” She muttered to herself as she struggled with the clasp of the waist garter, groaning in frustration. She stood in front of the full body mirror in the bathroom, her tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth, finally getting the clasp closed. She released a triumphant sigh and walked back to the bedroom, grabbing the bra, and sliding it over her shoulders.

Y/N thanked the heavens above that the clasp was on the front of the bra, hearing Harry messing with the doorknob of the private hotel suite. She quickly perched herself on the bed, settling on her knees, sitting on the heels of her feet.

“The weather outside is lovely, baby,” She heard him from the entrance of the suite, the door shutting behind him. Her stomach turned as she messed with the rose petals on the sheets. “Maybe we should go for a walk later…” Harry trailed off as he entered the room, his eyes landing on the gorgeous woman seated on the bed.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Harry.” Y/N spoke breathily, placing her hands on her knees, watching Harry’s jaw become slightly slack. He placed the bag of food on a side table, slowly walking towards her, stopping directly in front of the bed. She watched his eyes darken, only a sliver of green surrounding a pool of pure black, his eyes hungered at the very sight of her.

He cupped her chin in his ringed hand, causing her to look up at him as he towered over her.

“M’ pretty girl,” He muttered, his accent thickening as leaning down to place a delicate kiss on her shoulder, and another on her neck. His hands trailed their way down her body, to her hips, his large hands gripping them and pulling her closer to the edge of the bed. A shiver spread through Y/N’s body and settled between her thighs, manifesting itself as a warm wetness settling in her lace underwear.

Harry pulled her legs out from underneath her, allowing them to hang off the side of the bed. He knelt in front of her, his eyes meeting hers as he gently spreads her legs, holding a thigh in each hand and leans in. He placed a trail of small kisses on her inner thigh, right below the lacy red garter, causing Y/N to gasp lightly, her eyes fluttering shut.

“Y’ already so wet for me, baby.” He mutters against her thigh, biting gently. Y/N couldn’t help the moan that escaped her slightly open mouth. Harry smiles against her thigh, brushing her skin with his lips as he made his way to her nearly throbbing core. He pressed a small kiss to it through the sheer material of her panties, Y/N jerked forward at the sensation, her eyes snapping open and her hands making their way to his hair.

“Move up on the bed for me, love.” He spoke softly, releasing her thighs. He stood up and Y/N followed his directions, her legs spread with her back against the headboard which rested under a wide window overlooking the ocean.

She watched as he pulled off his loose white button up, her eyes trailing down his toned chest, his tattoos flexed on his tan skin. Her eyes made their way down to the obvious outline of his hard cock pressed against his shorts, causing an ache between her thighs. He stripped down to his underwear, not yet getting naked and crawled onto the bed.

“M’ gorgeous girl.” Harry licked his lips, grabbing her ankles and pulling her towards him, setting her on her back. His eyes trailed down her body as he sat up, settling himself between her legs, on his knees. He gently wrapped a ringed hand around her neck, pulling her in for a deep kiss, his tongue caressing hers while his other hand trailed down her body, teasing one of her perked nipples through the lacy material as he worked his way down to the front of her panties. Y/N moaned into his mouth, causing his cock to twitch.

He began rubbing small circles over her clit with the pad of his thumb, she pulled out of his kiss as her head fell back with a loud moan, her back arching for him.

“That’s m’ good girl.” He mutters, removing his hand from her neck and bringing it down to her barely clothed nipple, tweaking it between his fingers gently. Harry took this opportunity to dip his head down, laying sloppy kisses on her neck, sucking lightly. He continued to work his way down, to her collarbones and to her chest where he noticed the heart-shaped clasp sat between her breasts. His hand moved from her nipple, over to the clasp, undoing it in one swift motion, freeing her already barely contained breasts. Y/N looked down and watched as he wrapped his pink lips around one of her nipples, sucking it into his mouth, swirling his tongue over it. She began squirming as he moved her panties aside, running a finger through her folds before pushing two of them into her dripping core. Y/N moaned loudly at the sensation, tightening around his fingers.

“Please, Harry. I can’t sit still.” She moaned breathily when he kept his fingers inside of her, motionless. She heard his deep chuckle as he popped his lips off of her breast, kissing his way down to her wetness. His fingers splayed over her pubic bone as his thumb hooked around the soaked panties and pulled them all the way to the side, fully exposing her. His lips brushed against her nearly throbbing clit, immediately pressing a firm kiss to it.

“Fuck!” Y/N called out at the pressure, her hands tugging at his hair gently.

“Harry, baby, please!” She whined as he removed his lips. He peered up at her through lidded eyes and as she opened her eyes, catching a glimpse of him, he licked from the bottom of her folds all the way to the top, swirling his tongue around the enlarged bundle of nerves peeking out from its hood. Y/N threw her head back in pleasure, calling out his name as he curled his fingers inside of her, hitting the roof of her core. He began pulling his fingers out, pushing them back in a little roughly as he focused his attention to the throbbing clit under his tongue.

“Keep your eyes open. Look a’ me, baby.” He muttered against her slippery skin. She whimpered quietly, perching herself up on her elbows and looked down at the beautiful man between her thighs. His hair had become disheveled, strands hanging over his forehead as his dark eyes connected with hers.

“Such a good girl f’ me.” He kisses her folds. She watched as his fingers fucked into her repeatedly, his mouth expertly teasing her clit. The sight of Harry pleasuring her was overwhelming, a pressure began to build in her lower stomach.

“H-Harry, baby,” She moaned as he picked up his pace. “I’m so close!” She called out, tugging on his hair, pulling his face closer. The pressure continued to build, her body tensing up. His eyes never left hers, taking in the sight of her tits bouncing as he pressed his fingers into her.

“Cum f’ me, baby.” He moaned against her wetness and almost as though a switch flipped inside of her, she screamed out, throwing her head back as she reached her orgasm, sparks went off all over her body. Her body tightened around Harry’s fingers as she rode out her release.

He placed a delicate kiss on her folds, removing his fingers. She sucked in a light breath through her teeth at the sudden emptiness, watching as Harry sucked his fingers into his mouth.

“My turn.” She smiled devilishly, pulling his face in for a kiss, moaning as she tasted herself on his tongue. Her hand trailed down from his cheek, down his tattooed chest, to the front of his boxers, cupping his length. He groaned into her mouth as she squeezed lightly, feeling the precum soaking through the thin material. She pushed him lightly to his side, flipping them over so he was laying on his back with Y/N straddling his lower thigh.

“Fuck baby, y’ look so good.” Harry’s eyes took in the curves and edges of his girlfriend as she leans in, taking his lower lip between her teeth, tugging lightly. His cock twitched under her hand as she rubbed him through his boxers. She leans down, placed small kisses above the waistband of his boxers. She lapped a sloppy, wet kiss to the trail of hair on his navel as it brushed against her nose. Harry’s eyes watched her closely as she tugged at his boxers, releasing his cock from its confines. She eyed the thick length, her eyes following a thick vein running from the tip all the way to the base.

She grazed her fingers over the butterfly tattoo on his toned stomach, tracing her way down to the fern leaves on either side of his navel, settling her hand on his hip as she took his cock into her other hand, pumping it slowly, maintaining eye contact with the panting man in front of her. She leaned down slowly, licking the thick vein from the base all the way up, wrapping her lips around his pink tip.

“Fuck.” He groaned under his breath as her tongue lapped up his precum. His large hands found their way to the back of her head, intertwining his fingers in her hair.

“Such a good girl f’ me.” He muttered, inhaling sharply through his teeth as she took more of him into her mouth. He bit his lip as he watched her head bob up and down on his cock, her tongue swirling around his tip every time she came up.

“Y’ like having m’ cock in your mouth, don’t you baby?” He panted, causing her to moan in agreement, the sensation vibrating through his cock. He gripped her hair tighter as she picked up the pace, her nails digging into his hip.

“Fuck, baby. ‘m gonna cum if you keep going.” He says breathily, cupping her chin and pulling her mouth off of his cock. The sight of his girl licking her lips, wiping saliva off of her chin nearly drove him mad as he pulled her onto his lap, roughly pressing his lips to hers. He reached between them, pushing her panties to the side once again, positioning himself at her entrance.

“Open your mouth for me, baby.” He grunts and Y/N obliges, allowing Harry to push two of his ringed fingers into her mouth.

“Suck.” He demands and she listens to him, wrapping her lips around his digits, both moaning as Harry pulls her hips down. His length slowly filled her up as he held tightly to her hip with his free hand. She steadied herself with her hands on his chest, slowly riding him and watching his face contort in pleasure.

“Fuck, baby. So tight f’ me.” He moans as he feels her bounce on his cock slowly. He needed her; he was desperate for her. He grunted as he pulled his fingers out of Y/N’s mouth, grabbing her other hip and lifted her up slightly, fucking into her from below. Y/N was surprised at the sudden shift of pace, calling out his name as he hit all the right spots inside of her. She leaned in, her lips connecting to his as he continued pounding into her from below.

“God, y’ love it like this, don’t you?” He nearly growled against her lips, causing her to tighten around him, feeling pressure build up in his lower abdomen. She was a moaning mess as she continued to be guided down onto his cock, he moved one of his hands off of her hip, wrapping it around her neck, squeezing lightly. Y/N couldn’t contain herself anymore, his ringed hand on her neck pushing her to another orgasm. Her body lightly convulsed as she came on Harry’s cock with a loud moan. Her core tightened around him, also sending him over the edge with a loud guttural groan.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He muttered under his breath as he spilled inside of her, her bounces slowing down to a stop. His sweat-coated chest heaved as he lazily smiled at his girlfriend.

“I love you,” Y/N pressed a delicate kiss on his lips, “Happy Valentine’s Day.” She smiled.

“I’m so lucky.” Harry chuckled softly, brushing her hair out of her face, pressing a small kiss on her nose.

“Oh, my goodness! The food must be so cold!” Y/N squeals, causing Harry to laugh loudly, wrapping his arms around her.

So lucky. He thought.

#harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry x reader #harrys house #harry styles smut #harry x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader smut #smut #reader insert

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elioslover · 10 months

Note

#1 from the meet cute list plsssss

She has arrived!! This is also a part two for meet-cute #24 so.... read that here if you're interested! You can also request still- this is the list!

#1: You sit next to them at a wedding.

WC: 2.4k || Other Writing || Warnings

☀️

Saturday started smoothly enough, time neither speeding up nor slowing down. For once, the universe was on your side, favouring you enough that you find yourself getting ready with ease, waking up to your first alarm, minimal distractions from nosey neighbours, and all of your chores had been completed the evening prior.

In all honesty, your week has been pretty good since the waltz you shared with a handsomely clumsy stranger. It was unfortunate that the class hadn't ended with not only a new dance style under your belt, but perhaps the phone number of a very, very attractive man.

The power to resist thinking about him was nowhere to be found, and when it was clear he wouldn’t be leaving the space you had so sweetly curated in your head for him, you prayed that somehow, you also occupied a place in his thoughts.

Arriving at the chapel earlier than intended, even took a moment to admire the pretty yellow and white flowers scattered around the church entrance. When it looked like enough people had gone inside, you deemed it acceptable to join.

Guests scattered themselves amongst the pews, and after scanning the room, it was clear that you knew no one. Which side are you supposed to sit on? Anxiety bubbled within, your mind a mess of what move to make next.

But you felt sillier standing in the aisle, looking around almost frantically, worried someone might glance over and think you were at the wrong venue altogether. With final consideration, you chose the right side, praying that you would be sitting amongst other guests of the groom.

But, as the church continued to fill, it was evident you had chosen the wrong side, and now it was too embarrassing to get up and switch to the left. People were piling in with haste, probably a sign that the ceremony would begin shortly.

This turned out to be true when members of the close family began taking their seats in the front row, greeting one another with hugs of fondness and glee.

Keeping your head bowed, you tried to make out what the sudden whispering up front was about. It seemed that a couple of the guests were in the middle of some form of discourse- but, as hard as you listened, it was impossible to understand what the disagreement was about.

It ended abruptly, the atmosphere returning to one of anticipation. Your head remaining bowed, fiddling with the white, satin bow of the carefully wrapped wedding gift you had purchased for the occasion.

The silkiness between your fingers was soothing, and the chorus of soft chatting throughout the church was oddly comforting. But suddenly, you are snatched from safety; the shuffling of guests sharing your row was confusing and unwarranted.

Glancing up at the sound of someone whispering, ‘Pardon me,’ your eyes found someone extremely familiar, carefully making his way along the aisle, apologizing to those already seated.

And, when he muttered, “I’m so sorry,” you were back in that dance studio, his foot just having squished your own.

Whilst the idea of seeing the mystery man had who had been occupying your thoughts since Wednesday, the chance of running into him here was far more daunting. Your interest in him was clearly one-sided, and now you felt you should shamefully avoid him at all costs.

However, the mystery man made this task impossible, unknowingly moving along the pew until he found an open spot on the right of yours truly- just like last time.

He peered down for the first time, eyes augmenting at the acknowledgement of having met you prior. If he had been disappointed, his face didn’t show it as he simply smiled familiarly- and sheepishly- before building up the force to ask,

“Is this seat taken?”

For a split second, you wondered what would happen if you said no. It seemed reasonable enough of an excuse. Though, he was sure to notice the empty seat once the ceremony was in full swing. And then there was the reception- you couldn’t risk him bringing up the fact that you had so blatantly snubbed him.

You shake your head meekly, a rush of relief sent straight to your chest as his face morphed into one similar, and he quickly sat down, his suited shoulder brushing against your sleeveless arm. Shivers shaking at your spine, you tried to keep your attention facing forward.

After he took the opportunity to settle himself in, straightening out his suit and fully leaning back against the hardwood bench, he shifted slightly to face you,

“Dance class, right?” He confirmed for no good reason.

Even if he was the type of person to somehow forget a person he danced with, there was no way he wouldn’t remember the person whose foot he stomped on.

So, you only nodded in agreement, hoping the violins would silence this moment. Considering you hadn’t given him much to go off of, it was quite the surprise that he chose to pursue the conversation further,

“Hope your foot's doing better.” He teased lightly, and this was enough evidence for you to warm up a little, welcomingly encouraged by the fact that he was still trying.

“You’ll be getting a medical bill in the mail any day now.” You smiled over at him cheesily, and when his smile only widened, teeth on full display, you were certain that you wanted to spend the rest of eternity making sure it never shifted into a sulk.

He let the silence simmer for a second, seemingly sorting through his thoughts for a successful sentence,

"I'm Harry, by the way." He shyly sent his hand in your direction, praying you wouldn't leave him hanging.

"Y/n." Your palms met in the middle, giving it a firm shake before your hand plopped back into your lap. As an afterthought- and a way to ensure the conversation persists- you add, "Cousin of the Groom."

"Brother of the bride." He informed and was ready to elaborate the moment your brows raised in confusion.

"Sitting rather far back, aren't you?" Surely he would be up-front or even standing amongst the groomsmen.

"Our great aunt has decided to make a surprise appearance, which apparently also includes snubbing anyone assigned to the front row." He couldn't resist an eye-roll at the eccentricity of it all and continued on,

"Turns out, my family is more stubborn than I figured. Not a single person was willing to give up their seat."

"Ah, so you're the peacekeeper, huh?" Your shoulder gently bumping his bicep, banter sweetly shifting your smile into a gorgeous grin.

"Hm, maybe." He considered, "I don't see the big deal... You can enjoy the ceremony from any aisle."

“Fair enough.” You concede, enjoying the way the lashes of his pretty green eyes fan a shadow atop his cheeks.

Hoping for the conversation to keep going, you desperately worked to conjure up another question, but God was clearly not on your side- even as a guest in His chapel- because, with a sudden stir, the small orchestra came to attention, a celloist gliding his bow along the strings.

The guests of the church hushed, all facing forward in anticipation for the oncoming couple to join hands in marriage, and the large, double doors opened to introduce the wedding party- all lined-up and ready to strut.

Harry couldn’t stop his attention from flittering away from the ceremony and focusing on the cute, familiar guest he had once trampled- a gift from fate that would bring you all the way here, poised and attentively watching the exchanging of vows.

The ceremony seemed to drag on- forever- snhe was definitely feeling a load of guilt for struggling so desperately to keep his a attention.from focusing on you, breathing softly beside him.

Maybe if he been sitting in the front like planned this wouldn’t have been an issue. But that risked the possibility of you going completely unnoticed- there were enough guests present that he may have spent the entire evening greeting people and still failed to spot you.

Harry's head was still in that damn dance class- the only good thing to come out of his week, thinking about how easy it would have been to just initiate a conversation with his new dance partner.

His cluelessness had been a fatal flaw, and Harry certainly never thought that being required to dance could be the make-or-break of a possible romantic connection.

You seemed to know exactly what you were doing, causing his stomach to churn as you claimed control, sending cool shivers across his skin, hoping you would politely ignore the goosebumps stirring under your soft palms.

If it hadn’t been for his massive blunder- stepping on someone’s foot during a dance class was an obvious no-no- Harry was adamant on at least asking for your name, perhaps find out if you were a regular participant at these classes. If you were, he would thank his sister for sending him out to learn the waltz, and he’d definitely keep his Wednesdays free for the future.

Unfortunately, Harry seemed to be suffering for his choice of shyness as the bride and groom began their celebratory departure down the aisle and he was suddenly wrapped up and ushered out for group photos outside of the chapel.

With his aunt waiting anticipatedly, Harry quickly turned back to you apologetically, but felt utterly distraught when it was undoubtable that you had disappeared- your seat left as if it had never been occupied at all.

You hadn’t disappeared from the captivity of his head as his eyes desperately darted around the guests all gathering on the lawn, though he failed to find you, Harry just couldn’t dismiss you.

He let himself sink back into the celebration that was swallowing those around him whole, basking in the happiness and love that was this special day, but he kept you close- the hope that you were hidden and waiting to be found.

It was only after Harry had folded his knife and fork atop his empty plate that he finally found what he had been looking for. You were a couple tables down, elbows resting atop the cream, cotton cloth that was covering the circular table.

You seemed lost in a daydream, your face set in a peaceful frown as you watched those around you shuffling between tables and the dance floor.

Harry was determined now, denying any opportunity for his nerves to return as he slid out from his chair, straightening his suit out once more before striding over to where you were sat, wishfully watching those around you.

He must have already been on your radar- that, or his struts carried such sound that you had heard him coming- because your attention snapped to his in an instant, gazing up at him sweetly, eyes sultry and seemingly very welcoming.

Harry almost lost all sensibility, the control was back on your side, and all you had done was blink up at him. It took all the courage he could muster not to melt into complete nothingness before your very eyes, but the way you were gazing at him so curiously kept him going, awkwardly spluttering out his intentions,

“Would you like to dance?”

You pretended to ponder, sending him a playfully thoughtful brow furrow before nodding a little too enthusiastically and sliding out of your chair. He leads the way- for a change- and only turns to face you once he finds a decent enough space for dancing.

Flashbacks are flooding, sending an ache straight to his forehead, but he ignores it as best as he can, putting all he has learned into practice, his arm wrapping warmly around your waist. Yours follows suit, settling atop his shoulder, the other reaching out to hold his hand.

With your palm swallowed in his own, a wave of heat swallowing you whole, swelling your cheeks with blush, yours eyes darting, settling anywhere but on his already stern gaze.

Falling quickly into step with the melody that worked to guide the guests, the pair of you moved in perfect synchronicity; Harry has evidently spent the time since class working on his execution. Where had this version of him been when your foot was at stake?

There is no way his newfound skill would be going unnoticed- not when the victim of his bulky sneakers was standing right here. Staring up at him with such sweetness that his teeth almost ached at just the sight,

“You’re quite the dancer.” You teased, rather impressed at the ease of which the two of you were gliding across the dancefloor. His head tilted back, a bold chuckle vibrating from deep within his chest, his throat torturously on display, begging for a good biting,

“Ah, that’s because I have a great partner.” He adds a cheeky wink, it’s your turn to laugh now.

"Is it safe to assume you took that class in preparation for this evening?" You pondered, body relaxing against his own, getting as close to him as possible.

"Your assumptions are correct." He confirmed, titlting his head down, his forehead threatening to brush the crown of your head.

"Will you be there next week?" You tried to hide the bashfulness that turned to blush, cursing yourself for asking the obvious. What were you hoping for? It was clear he had only participated for tonight's purposes.

With pleasant surprise, and a whole lotta relief, Harry's smile only widened, his eyes lighting up as if he were hoping you would ask,

"Will you be there?" He countered, and you felt silly for how quickly you responded,

"I will."

Harry nods affirmatively, taking the risk of pulling you closer, his hand sliding up from your waist to settle on your back as he boldly dips you. With a little gasp, you let him guide your body, and you feel an overwhelming sense of satisfaction as he returns you to his hold, your chests brushing up against one another.

He leans in even closer, the smell of musk and mint only making it easier for you to melt into his arms. His gaze is set on you, and the glimmer in his eyes has got you thinking that he might see in you what you so clearly see in him. You seem to be on to something, because the words to slip past his plump lips next are as clear as day,

"I'll see you on Wednesday then."

113 notes · View notes

lilystyles · 5 months

Text

no strings attached.

this series is completed!! a @lilystyles series.

y/n and harry have always known each other and been in each other's lives, but harry's rapid rise in fame causes a drift between them. what happens when they find their way back to each other and act on the feelings they have always had?

or y/n is a virgin and she doesn't want to be, and harry is an old friend who doesn't mind helping her out.

virgin!reader x friendswbenefits!h

* * * * *

old friends

harry and y/n are old friends who reunite and quickly pick right back up where they left off. new tensions arise and a deal is struck up. (5k)

song for this chapter 'Old Friends' by Simon & Garfunkle.

watermelon sugar, highhhh

harry found a new muse for a new song. it's called watermelon sugar, dedicated to the sweetness between y/n's thighs. (5k)

song for this chapter 'Watermelon Sugar' by H.

comfort

y/n calls harry drunk and scared, harry picks her up and helps take care of her. the next morning y/n worries she'll scare him off, but of course, harry eases those worries. (4.5k)

song for this chapter 'Back to the Old House' by The Smiths.

bloom

y/n and harry go to dinner and something stronger blooms between them. (11.6k!!)

song for this chapter 'Hungry Eyes' by Eric Carmen.

rock the boat, baby!

y/n and harry are reminded of their teenage years and take a trip down memory lane on a camping trip. (8.7k)

song for this chapter 'Rock the Boat' by Hues Corporation.

one of us

karaoke night leads to a run-in with paparazzi. y/n's face is splashed everywhere, and harry doesn't know what to do. (5.3k)

song for this chapter 'One Of Us' by Abba.

stuck in the middle with you

y/n is the maid of honour and harry is the best man, what happens when they are forced to share a room? do they reconcile their issues or are they too far gone? (10.6k)

song for this chapter 'Silver Springs' by Fleetwood Mac.

* * * * *

blurbs for nostrings!H

can be found on my blurbs masterlist right here

more blurbs are coming soon upon request! please use my asks box.

just leave me a prompt or idea - maybe something you want to happen or thought about happening with nostrings!H :)

thank you for reading, this was my first ever series on tumblr love my babies sm 🫶🫶🫶🫶

so many more fics are coming soon i pinky swear! love u all so muchhhhhhh

#nostringsattachedseriesbylilystyles #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader smut #lilystyles #harrystylesseries #childhood best friend to strangers to fwb to lovers

863 notes · View notes

novelistrry · 1 year

Text

She looked at the drink in her hand, suddenly feeling demure and childish holding a drink the bartender told her was called Sex on the Beach after she asked for something that doesn’t take like alcohol. He noticed her hesitation and the way her eyes flickered between his drink and her own. “Would you like to try it?”

She nodded her head yes, letting him know that she did want to try it. So badly, she wanted to try it. Not because she wanted to taste the tequila, she was sure it wasn’t very good, but because she wanted to taste where his lips pressed against the glass. She could see the subtle fog where he was placing his lips every time he would take a sip. So, he handed her his drink and when she turned the glass and pressed her lips against where they both knew his lips had once been, he murmured a small, “Christ, Y/N.”

Harry is a young professor and Y/N has never felt this kind of attraction before

Disclaimer: I didn't do a lot of editing to this, and it is also part one out of at least three!

Word Count: 14k+

Y/N was always one that was good at school work. She was punctual for class, thorough with her assignments, and would spend way more time than the average person studying for exams that she knew she would ace regardless. She flew through her undergraduate program, enjoying the learning component of school so much that she decided she would attend a graduate program.

She thought she would fly through it like she always had.

Y/N was wrong.

It was her first day in a teaching position as a graduate student, and the professor she was assisting for the semester only taught advanced level psychology classes. She thought that maybe assisting a professor in the class she was struggling most with — even though he was not her direct professor— might be helpful with bumping up her grade and understanding the content of the course.

Although Y/N was not new to this program, she was struggling with one psychology course in particular. As the opportunity arose for her to TA (the pay was minimal, but she would take anything at this point), she jumped at the offer when she realized it was a position for a class she was nearly pulling her eyelashes out over. Of course she went over it with her guidance counselor to make sure the school didn’t qualify that as an unfair advantage. She didn’t want to be scolded for thinking it was appropriate to TA for a class she was concurrently taking, but her guidance counselor quickly reassured her that as long as she didn’t TA for the professor she was taking the course with, she had absolutely nothing to worry about.

To say she was nervous was an understatement. The professor she was assisting was one she had never heard of before. With much frustration, she scoured the internet trying to find any inkling of information regarding him. There were no reviews on his teaching, no rating on how hard his course was, and the only thing she managed to find was his name (not even a picture) on the faculty website. Typically, Y/N could look up faculty and find a rating on some college website to let potential students know how hard their class was on a scale from one to five, how heavy the course load was, and if the student rating them would take a class with that professor on another occasion.

There she was, outside of his room, fifteen minutes earlier than she needed to be because she was always stressing over minuscule things (to her, five minutes early might as well be ten minutes late). Stress oozed from her pores, and she felt the tension build in her shoulders as it began sinking in that she knew nothing of the man who she would be spending quite some time with. She let out a small breath, trying to ease some of the tension in her shoulders and the way butterflies were infiltrating her brain and stomach. Y/N was in what she would call, a stress pocket. Like she had picked herself from the world and tucked herself away in a separate dimension that was only filled with stress. No happiness, no laughter, no sorrow, no anger. Simply stress. She could view the outside world from the clear stress pocket, but she couldn’t quite find a way to crawl out of it.

With one more breath and a copy of his course schedule in her hand, she flicked her gaze down and scanned it over once more preparing herself. As far as she was concerned, he had no class during this time slot and she could easily rasp her knuckles against the oak door, but a fizzle in her stomach stopped her from doing so.

What if he didn’t know he was given a TA by the school? Is that possible? She went over a few practice lines in her head to make sure she had the words flowing through her brain before she worked up the courage to knock. It was somewhat of a habit of hers. When she ordered food for takeout, she spent a few minutes rehearsing her order so the words slipped out of her mouth nicely. Otherwise, her brain became flustered, her face would heat, and her eyes would gaze down at her shoes.

Before she had the chance to rehearse what she was going to say, the door unlatched and popped right open revealing who she believed was Professor Styles. A satin shirt laid across his chest, slightly showing the tips of a tattoo she couldn’t quite make out. Long dark blue slacks covered his leg, flaring at the bottom and possibly made him look taller than he actually was.

“Thought I saw a shadow lingering outside the door,” he murmured, stepping to the side to allow space for her to walk in. “What’re you doing standing out there for so long?”

It took her brain a couple seconds to compose her thoughts. This is exactly why she always prepared what she would say in advance, because her brain was becoming foggy as he held her gaze. She couldn’t help but scan his face a little more intensely than she probably should have, noting the slight pink color to his cheeks that matches his lips, the way his green eyes had a sort of sultry look to them, and the way he brought his hand up to his jaw, scratching at the stubble growing in as he looked at her. She had to avert her eyes, otherwise she may have never been able to get the words out— his beauty was a little too intense and overwhelmingly unexpected.

Y/N doesn’t think she had ever seen anyone quite as beautiful as him. It was like an angel carved him from stone and decided the world needed a little more beauty. They planted him in the soil and grew him with the clearest spring water they could find, the sun nurturing his cheekbones and the soft brown curls that wrapped around the frame of his face so well. He was not accidental, he was planned by the Gods. Beauty that was a gift to the world.

“Sorry,” she managed to squeak out, her eyes plastered to the wall behind her as she cleared her throat to avoid any voice cracking. “I didn’t knock because I was a little early. I didn’t know if I would have been interrupting something.”

His fingers pushed the door closed once more, then turned away from her and strode to his desk with long steps. Y/N took a chance to look at him once more, familiarizing herself with his features. She could tell by the way his eyebrows furrowed and his lips curved upward that he was sure of himself. “Mmm,” the hum coming from his vocal chord raised an octave up as he looked over a piece of paper on his desk. “You wouldn’t have been interrupting anything. How can I help you?”

She glanced down at the paper in between her fingers, and realized she was gripping it a lot harder than she processed. An indentation was made in the paper where her forefinger and thumb were straining it. In a few steps, she made it to his desk and slid the paper over to him, a slight shake of her hand as she gently pushed it across the desk. He looked up at her as he noticed the tremble in her hand, but chose not to say anything about it.

“I’m your new TA for the class that’s starting in about ten minutes.” She spoke clearly, quickly removing her hand from the wood of his desk, and shoving it into her coat pocket. Y/N shifted on the backs of her heels, a tendency she had developed to self soothe in tense situations.

His face lit up in realization, a look of understanding washing across his features like he finally put the pieces together as to why a random student, (certainly not one of his own because he’s great with names and faces), was nervously standing outside of his door. Her shy gaze faltering slightly as he asked why she was lingering behind the door suddenly made sense, and the nervous hand trembling was completely understandable when he realized she was reporting for her teacher’s assistant duties for the first time ever. She was just a little nervous, and he was determined to make her warm up to the new atmosphere around her.

“Yes,” he smiled down at her, trying to make her feel welcome and comfortable. “Y/N, right? If I’m being completely honest, I forgot that I was getting an assistant today, but I’m happy you’re here!” He reached out his palm, encasing her hand in his with a firm shake.

Her hand was delicate in his, the firmness of his made her feel small and she simply wanted to melt into a puddle against the tile as she took in his excitement. He wasn’t going to be so excited when he realized that she was actually very, very bad at abnormal psychology and couldn’t, for the life of her, remember any of the terms she was supposed to. A quick heat crept up her neck and infiltrated her cheeks at the thought of him thinking she was stupid.

Y/N was not stupid. Y/N was anything but, and her greatest pet peeve was being belittled or ridiculed for her lack of knowledge because she spent a great deal of time intaking the material her professor’s provided her with. Hell, that’s how she got into grad school. It was just that abnormal psychology wasn’t her strongest course, and she couldn’t be faulted for that. She spent a lot of time studying for it, but her test scores were suffering more than she would like to admit. It could be because of her bashfulness, or maybe it was just her ego, but she couldn’t bring herself to visit her professor during office hours or even show up to the tutoring center. On the other hand, it also could have been because her professor was not the most approachable human being to exist and quickly made it known if you were inconveniencing him in any way.

When she didn’t say anything back, he sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth and motioned for her to follow him. Inside his classroom was a medium sized personal office tucked in the corner. Walls and a chestnut colored door separated it from the actual learning portion of the classroom. His fingers gently tapped against the door with the red undertone as he hooked his long fingers in the door knob and pressed it down. The door swung open, revealing another girl probably the same age as Y/N sitting behind one of the two desks.

“Hi,” the girl behind the desk chirped. Her eyes were kind, and she sported big chunky glasses that suited her face well. One of the first things Y/N noticed was the subtle glow to her skin, and if she thinks a person could embody sunshine, it might just be this girl behind the desk.

“Y/N, this is my other TA, Mallory,” Professor Styles motioned toward the girl, Mallory, sitting behind the desk with a bright smile across her face. “She is also one of my TA’s for abnormal psych, but she is here with me in the mornings. I only teach abnormal psych this semester, so a couple TA’s will help me balance the workload. Sometimes your schedules may overlap for about twenty minutes or so, but whatever you’re falling behind on let Mallory know and she can pick up the following morning.” He glanced between the two girls, a smile spreading across his rose colored lips, “Same thing goes for Mallory. Whatever she needs help with, you’ll continue the task in the afternoon.”

Mallory motioned for Y/N to step inside the office, so she took the cue and walked inside. As she looked around, she noted that the office was decorated beautifully, like whoever designed the workspace must be keen on interior design. It felt more like a home than an office, really.

A green sofa with orange throw pillows flushed against the wall, as what she assumed was a comfortable area for students when they visit Professor Styles during office hours. Two fully wooden desks, side by side, though one was more cluttered which she assumed was Professor Styles’ workspace. A faux leather swivel chair was placed directly parallel with his desk for students to sit at while he chatted with them, or maybe even his colleague friends that visited him for lunch. The walls were decorated with paintings, mostly paintings with sage green and a burnt orange color to match the same vibe as the couch, and when she cocked her head to the side, she saw a small bench next to the door that held papers with community resources so students could tear off the contact information they needed.

“Mallory, do you think you could get Y/N familiar with the desk and the space? My next class starts in a few minutes and I just want to prepare a couple things. After that, you’re free to go.”

Mallory simply nodded as Professor Styles strode out of the doorway and back over to his main desk in the classroom. Y/N tore her gaze from him, trying not to ogle too much to the point where it becomes increasingly more noticeable. She made her way closer to the desk, where Mallory began showing her where all the supplies were. The top drawer of the desk was for pens and pencils, the second drawer was for extra sheets of blank paper, and the third drawer in the desk held an organized filing system which held all the answer keys for the tests he gave throughout the semester.

“These are the tests I’m currently grading. I was able to get through his first two classes and part of his third class, but there are two more classes of 60 people that need to be graded plus the one that I didn’t finish all the way through.” Mallory pointed at the stack of tests that needed to be graded, and next to it was the hefty stack she had already worked through this morning.

Y/N looked down at the answer key displayed, and realized it was the same exact test she had taken just last week in her abnormal psychology class. “This is the same exact test I took last week,” she picked up the answer key and scanned it, noting the same wording on each question, same multiple choice answers, and same write-in questions.

Mallory nodded, a warm smile across her face as her voice chirped out, “Yeah, you’re in Professor Smith’s class with me. I recognize you. I sit behind you. Smith’s class is one week ahead of Harry’s which is why we’re able to TA for him, because we’re taking the same tests but a whole week before Harry gives them to his students,” she shrugs her shoulders up and down, “It makes it fair.”

It took Y/N a minute before she realized who Mallory was talking about. The name Harry got lost in her brain as she tried to understand who Mallory was talking about until she realized that Mallory was Professor Styles’ first name, and she knew that due to her deep Google searches on the young professor.

“I see,” Y/N nodded her head and placed the answer key back on the desk, not quite sure what else to say to Mallory. It seemed pretty straight forward, and if she finished before her time was up for the day, she was sure Professor Styles would give her something else to do for the remainder of the time.

“If there’s anything that you need, you can just ask me. My contact information is on that little piece of paper taped to the desk,” Mallory pointed at the corner, and Y/N read her full name, phone number, and email address, “But everything is pretty straight-forward.”

Y/N nodded, mumbling out an appreciative “thank you” as Mallory began gathering her stuff. Right before she exited the door, Y/N cleared her throat as she worked up the courage to get Mallory’s attention.

Mallory turned her head slightly, her eyebrows raised as she held the edge of the doorway with her fingers, waiting for Y/N to say something.

“I was just wondering if…” Y/N trailed off momentarily, her eyes drifting to where Professor Styles stood as he greeted the students that were flooding in his room in large groups, “I was wondering if you liked assisting Professor Styles.”

Mallory’s smile grew larger as she understood the nervous gulp Y/N gave in between words as she spoke. If Mallory was being completely truthful, she was skeptical of him at first too. She couldn’t find any ratings as this was his first year teaching and sometimes you truly don’t understand a professor’s temperament until you get to know them. “He’s great, I promise you.” Her eyes glanced behind her and she lowered her voice, “He’s nothing like Professor Smith… And he’s easy on the eyes.”

Mallory sent a wink toward Y/N, and Y/N felt that familiar heat crawl up her neck once more.

___________

By the end of the day, she had nearly finished the stack. With a glance toward the clock, she realized she only had a few minutes left and wouldn’t be able to crank out the thirty or so tests that needed grading. Her fingers drummed against the desk as she contemplated how to let Mallory know she didn’t completely finish.

Y/N could send her an email as her contact information was taped to the corner of her desk, but it didn’t feel like a good enough reason to email her and she really, really didn’t want to bug her. Y/N thinks if she were in Mallory’s shoes, an email letting her know she didn’t finish felt unnecessary.

Multiple shoes clicking on the floor in the main classroom rang in her ears, the sound of nonchalant talking as the students shuffled out the classroom, and the sound of papers rifling in backpacks signaled that Professor Styles’ class had ended, concluding his classes for the day.

It was only a few minutes before the last student finally made their way out the door, the familiar sound of the door clicking closed told her that he had finally completed his work day.

Like he was anticipating the end of his day, he gently tapped his knuckles upon the door of the office and before she could even mumble a small “come in,” the door was flying open. Y/N realized then that the tapping against the door wasn’t necessarily permission for him, but a courteous way of letting her know that he would be entering the room.

He stood in the doorway, his lean shoulders pressing against the frame. The satin top that exposed just the tips of his tattoos taunted her, almost as if they were looking back at her while she tried to decipher what might lay under his shirt.

With hard eyes, he glanced down at what she was staring at and when he realized where her gaze was studying, he brought his nimble fingers to the top button and securely covered it so that the tattoos were no longer in sight. He cleared his throat and she swallowed hard, glancing around the room to try and play off her wandering eyes.

“How was your first day?” He asked, giving her a somewhat hopeful look. The kind of look that told her he must have had a TA at one point that had a terrible first day, and ran out of his abnormal psych class screaming, never to be seen again.

If she was honest, the subject in itself was something she might have had trouble mastering, but the assistant duties weren’t that terrible. All she had to do was review an answer key, mark in red pen if they got the answer wrong, and total up the number of points they got on their test. It didn’t get much simpler than that.

“It was good, Professor Styles,” she tried to make her voice sound as chipper and friendly as possible. She wanted him to know that she was happy to help him out and liked doing it.

He shook his head slightly, a small smile forming across his lips to indicate amusement. It was almost as if she could see his eyes shine a little brighter than they were before as he brought his hand up to his neck and rubbed in a comforting way like. He searched the air, trying to find the same words he used for Mallory when she began assisting him.

“I like to be called Harry if that’s something you’re comfortable with. I want you to feel like we’re on the same level, almost like we’re colleagues. You don’t need to address me as ‘professor’ because I’m not your professor,” he began the same spiel he told Mallory, letting her know that they were equals and it made Y/N’s insides warm a little bit. “For example, if one day you told me you wanted to teach the lesson, I would absolutely trust you to do so.”

Her eyebrows scrunched and her tongue flicked against her lower lip, the eyes that were previously locked with him now analyzing the pattern of the wooden desk as she shook her head in a gentle way. Giving a lesson was definitely not something she wanted to do. Maybe Mallory was the kind of TA that wanted interaction with the class, but not Y/N. No, that wasn’t Y/N at all.

Y/N considered herself to be a simple person. She didn’t mind sneaking into the office he had tucked away in his room with the door closed as she graded papers. She didn’t mind the silently working alone, reading through answers, trying to decipher sloppy handwriting, but she did not want to teach a lesson,

Maybe Mallory was her polar opposite, balancing out his two TA’s. Mallory was talkative enough when she met Y/N. She seemed like the kind of girl that could discuss a topic as bland as oranges for thirty minutes by constantly adding new components to the conversation. Mallory and Y/N might be a yin and yang ordeal, opposites that balance each other out just enough that it works together.

“I appreciate that, but I don’t want to teach a class,” she explained. It took a second for her to calm the thoughts that were picking at her brain. Maybe the idea of teaching a class sounded some sort of internal alarm that forced her shoulders to tense up, her knees to lock, and her mouth to produce more saliva than necessary because she physically felt her body constrict at the idea.

“No, you don’t have to,” he shifted against the doorframe, sensing how uncomfortable she was and silently cursing at himself for putting her in such an awkward position on her first day. “I was just trying to explain that I want us to be equals.”

She simply nodded, not quite sure what else to say. She could confirm that she was comfortable calling him Harry, but she thinks he probably already knew she would if that is what he was requesting. She settled on two words that expressed her gratitude, “Thank you.”

He gestured his hand as if to say don’t even worry about it, but a puzzled look formed on his face as he did so. “Do you mind telling me why you don’t want to teach a class? Mallory nearly fell out of her seat with excitement when I told her she could if she really, really wanted to.”

There it was: confirmation that Mallory was her opposite. A sense of relief washed through her veins as she realized it was perfectly okay for her to be the quiet one, as long as Mallory was outgoing.

Her eyes narrowed and Harry could tell she was trying to find the words to explain how she felt about the idea. She was very thoughtful, and in the short three hours he had known her, he appreciated that quality about her. Y/N couldn’t tell him she sucked at abnormal psychology and was almost failing her class. She couldn’t tell him that she would pretty much be setting his students up for failure if she taught the class, but she could tell him that she was uncomfortable in big groups of people. That was true. As soon as the group exceeded five or so people, she realized she never wanted to participate in the conversation as she felt like she never had anything good enough to say. Y/N was more of a listener, and sometimes even then, five people in her friend group was overwhelming.

“I’m not a good public speaker,” as the reason slipped from her lips, she suddenly felt like that was such a silly reason to make a fuss over it. It was true though, public speaking was not really her element.

“We could always work on that if that’s something you’re interested in?” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. If she refused the offer it wouldn’t really bother him, but he wanted to give her the option anyway, just in case it’s a goal she wants to work toward.

Y/N didn’t know what possessed her because even though working on public speaking would be helpful in its own way, she really didn’t want to. She had already taken the most basic required public speaking course and did not plan to take any other communication class, but she nodded her head in agreement with his proposition and mumbled out, “That would be great.”

Harry could tell by the lack of enthusiasm in her response, and by the way her shoulders slumped forward and her nose scrunched up that she didn’t actually mean it. It was more that she was trying to be polite than anything, and he thinks that maybe if he were her, his reaction would be the same. He used to be a people pleaser too, and at first it was a harmless personality trait that slowly morphed into something that was no longer harmless, he was absolutely taken advantage of (covering shifts for coworkers when he didn’t want to, staying out too late with friends because they wanted to even though his warm bed was calling) and became a difficult thing to shake.

He glanced down at his watch, reading the time carefully. It hadn’t felt like 15 minutes of interacting with her until he realized just how long his, now numb, shoulder was pressed against the door frame. “It’s probably time you head out, hm?”

“Yes,” she breathed out, finding her voice. She knew they hadn’t been talking for too long, but she didn’t want to overstay her welcome. Not that she was itching to stay and grade papers. No matter how mindless the activity was, she did want to go home. It was at that moment she realized the question she wanted to ask him hadn’t come up yet, and it was the first thing she wanted to ask when she heard the shuffling of footsteps as he wrapped up his last class of the day. “I have about thirty tests left to grade. How can I let Mallory know?”

He wasn’t looking at her as she spoke, but she knew that she had his undivided attention. With hesitation, she gulped as she watched his long fingers rake down his throat, his index and middle finger touching the skin ever so gently, just avoiding his Adam's apple. It only took a couple steps for him before his long legs were at his desk in the office, and he was sifting through the disorganized pile he must have dumped on there in between classes. “Why don’t you just leave her a little note that she can read when she comes in tomorrow morning? Should be fine.”

It didn’t take too long for her to grab a blank piece of paper from the second drawer. She scribbled out a note as quickly as possible, letting Mallory know how far she got the day before and thanking her for picking up where she left off. As soon as she was done writing the note, she began gathering her things. Y/N was more than ready to get back to her flat, have a small discussion with her flatmate (who also happened to be her best friend), and climb into the comfort of her bed.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said softly.

He gave her one of those sweet smiles that he must have kept tucked away in his utility belt of charm, and waved her a simple goodbye.

She thought of him the whole way home even though she tried not to.

___________

“So how was it?” Her roommate and best friend from her undergraduate days, Niall, asked from the other side of the kitchen. She had been home for a total of ten minutes and he was already interrogating her, but she didn’t expect anything less from him. With a short glance over to where she stood at the counter, he gave his attention back to the refrigerator where he was rummaging to find the strawberry kiwi flavored juice he loved so much.

“It was fine,” she shrugged her shoulders. As soon as she started speaking, his eyes fixated back toward her as his hand finally grasped the strawberry kiwi juice he was looking for. Instead of holding eye contact, she let her gaze flicker to the floor.

Eye contact was one of Y/N’s telling traits; Niall knew that when she couldn’t hold eye contact with him, she was either lying or holding out on giving him information. A smirk danced across his lips as he shut the fridge, then leaned his body against it slowly. “You’re either lying or holding out on me. Which is it?”

“Holding out on you,” amusement twirled throughout her eyes, and her lips curved to match the same smirk Niall was giving her.

“Won’t you tell me?” He clutched his chest, feigning heart pain as if she had stabbed him by telling him she was holding out.

“He’s really…” She trailed off, not quite sure how to say what she wanted to say appropriately. It felt wrong to say it out loud. She wasn’t concerned that Niall would judge her, but if she was being honest, she was judging herself for being so attracted to the professor she was supposed to be working for. She decided to put it as bluntly as possible, “Attractive.”

In a matter of seconds, Niall’s smirk turned into a full blown smile, teeth showing and all. It wasn’t common for Y/N to talk about when she found someone attractive. She always kept to herself. In fact, she kept to herself so much that when Niall invited her out with his other friends, he was always a little worried that she was feeling overwhelmed. It’s not that she couldn’t take care of herself or regulate her own emotions, she absolutely could and he knew that, but he always worried that she was forcing herself to be around his friends just because she wanted Niall to know she cared about spending time with him. “Is he now?”

“Yes,” her smile turned into a sheepish one, her ears feeling hot right at the tips.

“Have you told him that you suck at abnormal psychology?” Niall didn’t mean this in a mean way, he knew Y/N was struggling with her abnormal psych class because she had come home on multiple occasions, kicked her shoes off, buried her face into the couch cushion and screamed at the top of her lungs. When Niall asked her why she was being so dramatic, she told him that she was failing her first class, and even he was slightly taken aback by the news. Y/N had better grades than anyone he knew.

“That’s not the plan anymore,” she explained, her fingers rubbing against the countertop just enough to feel the smooth coating. She was waiting for him to scold her. She was actually anticipating it on the car ride when she decided that she absolutely, for certain, was not going to tell Professor Styles—Harry— that she was failing her abnormal psychology class. When the opportunity came for her to TA, she had talked about it with Niall. He knew she was a naturally shy being, but he explained that if she was still struggling in a couple weeks when the TA position started, she could tell the professor and maybe they would offer her some extra help or some extra worksheets that would get her back on track.

“What do you mean?” Niall furrowed his eyebrows, taking a swig of the strawberry kiwi juice he had forgotten he was holding in his hand.

She simply shrugged her shoulders up and down, staring at her pink polkadot socks as she wiggled her toes to distract herself.

“Why? Because you think he’s attractive?” Niall tried to understand, pressing the topic further. If she didn’t want to give him anymore information regarding it then he would stop pestering her, but his job as her best friend was to pester her anyway.

She simply nodded, still not looking up.

“Sheesh, Y/N.” Niall brought his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose and pressed it together in order to relieve some of the tension building in his head. He wasn’t going to tell her it was a bad idea or shame her for finding him attractive. Hell, he was putting himself in her shoes and decided that if he found one of his professor’s attractive, he would probably leave out information like that too.

“I know,” was all she said, a tinge of shame ringing in her tone but he waved her off.

“So,” he said, not wanting her to feel too badly, “Indian for dinner?”

She gazed back up at him, a grin shining in his direction as she said, “You know me so well.”

________

Days had passed of Y/N working in the office located in Harry’s classroom. They didn’t talk very much, but sometimes he would come into the office and sit with her. While he did work on his computer and she graded papers, he would make small talk. He would ask her things about why she chose to major in psychology, what undergraduate school she went to, where she was from. Normal things like that. Sometimes she wanted to ask him questions too, but she could never work up the courage to until today (it only took her a few weeks).

“Do you have a favorite color?” It was the most mundane question she could ask him, but she was actually asking for a reason. Typically, she graded the papers in the red pen Mallory left behind, because it was cohesive with Mallory’s work.

“I like green. Why do you ask?” He glanced up from his laptop, closing the lid just slightly so he could get a better view of her face.

“I grade with a red pen. I was wondering if there was a preference you had,” she suddenly felt childish for asking, and was mentally banging her head against the wall.

“You can keep grading with red. That color is better for grading anyway.” His eyes tore from her and he was back to scrolling through something on his laptop. Her eyes remained fixated on him, and she wanted to keep the conversation going, but there was no way she would have been able to work up the courage to speak to him again. Like he was reading her thoughts, he looked back at her and concluded with, “Thanks for asking, sweet girl.”

Sweet girl.

Her heart nearly exploded in her chest.

After that day, her and Harry spent a lot of time talking. Possibly too much time talking.

___________

Mallory decided that since she and Y/N both TA’d for Harry, it was an unspoken rule that they should start sitting together in Professor Smith’s class. The day after Mallory met Y/N, she packed her bag up from the other side of the classroom, and moved to the back desk in the seat parallel to Y/N.

Their seats already weren’t too far away, even though Mallory originally sat on the opposite side. Actually, Y/N hadn’t ever realized before but the classroom was small, sterile, and unwelcoming. It wasn’t the way Harry’s classroom was set up with paintings hanging on the wall, informative sheets placed on a vintage waist level bookcase that was filled with leatherback classics. Professor Smith’s class was that of a doctor’s office. No color except gray, tile that constantly smelt of lemon floor cleaner. Y/N didn’t always catch the fine details, but when comparing Professor Smith’s class to Harry’s, she realized just how much Harry went out of his way to make the environment feel like home.

So Y/N was a little grateful when Mallory took a seat beside her, the atmosphere feeling a little less cold and dark. They would work together on in-class projects, and Y/N realized that Mallory was really, really good at understanding the fundamentals to abnormal psychology. She was actually really grateful she met Mallory, because the more Mallory helped her, the better her grades were looking. She still wasn’t passing the class at a satisfactory level, but she was definitely getting better.

Mallory liked to talk a lot, which was good, because Y/N liked to listen. She never had much to say, but Mallory always did. Like today, for example, she was telling Y/N that she and her boyfriend were going to some dive bar on the East side with tickets to a comedy show on Friday, and she really wanted Y/N to come. Her other friend and her friend’s boyfriend bailed, but Mallory had already purchased two extra tickets for the comedy show and she would hate for them to be wasted. Y/N was hesitant at first, but she decided there was no harm in going. She liked Mallory a lot, and she was excited to meet Mallory’s boyfriend because she had heard so much about him.

“Are you going to bring your boyfriend? If you don’t then we’re going to have that one extra ticket,” Mallory explained.

Her boyfriend? When had Y/N ever said that she had a boyfriend? Mallory wasn’t the type of person to assume either, so she tried to replay the past conversations in her head dating back to when Mallory and her first started conversing about a month and a half ago. They had talked about all kinds of things, but Y/N had never mentioned a boyfriend. As if the puzzle pieces clicked together, she realized just how often she talked about Niall when she felt she had something interesting enough to add to the conversation.

“Do you mean Niall?” Y/N questioned, her eyebrows raised just a smidge.

“Yes,” Mallory confirmed, confusion laced in her tone and present on her features. “Is he not your boyfriend?”

“No,” Y/N started to laugh, the kind of laugh that made your nose scrunch. Niall was handsome, sure, but they would only ever be best friends. They definitely were not each other’s types. Y/N had seen Niall’s type at nights when he would escort her to small gatherings to play board games. The girls (sometimes even guys, she thinks, though she’s never asked) would be twirling their hair in the corner as he charmed them with that dazzling smile. “Niall is my best friend! He’s also my roommate which might be why you’re confused. I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Mallory said, a smile spreading across her face as she clapped her hands together. “Well, why don’t you bring him then if he’s your best friend. I would love to meet him!”

“I think…” Y/N trailed off, trying to think if this is something Niall would say yes to. He was such a social butterfly, he usually never said no to going out, so she didn’t see why agreeing for him would be a problem. “I think that would be a lovely idea.”

When Y/N got home that night, she asked Niall and to no surprise of her own, he excitedly agreed and said he was excited to meet Mallory.

___________

Harry dismissed his class early that day. Mallory didn’t show up to grade papers in the morning because she had a doctor's appointment she already arranged with Harry. He decided that since there was not much left on the chapter his class was going over, he would help Y/N grade the test his class took two days ago since she was grading by herself.

He popped his head through the door to tell Y/N that he dismissed class early and was going to step out for a few minutes. She gave him a nod in confirmation and heard his heels click as he walked out of the classroom.

Just like he said, he was back in a few minutes but with two coffees in hand. She eyed the coffee with the whipped cream on top, and a devilish smile spread across his lips, his eyes sparkling. Was that other coffee for her? If so, how did he know she liked whipped cream on the top?

“I got us a treat,” he set the two coffees down on her desk and pushed the one with whipped cream, then grabbed his swivel chair that was tucked into the desk he normally sat at in the office and placed it directly next to hers. When he sat, he was so close that she could feel his knee brush against hers.

“Thank you,” she expressed her gratitude and picked up the coffee, eyeing the whipped cream once more. “How did you know I liked whipped cream?”

He paused and looked at her. The look on his face was teetering on the edge of wariness, like he didn’t want to say anything to cross the fine line of a boundary they had constructed. As he searched for the right words to say, he drank in her appearance and she couldn’t help but want to melt away as his eyes danced from her own eyes then back down to her lips then back up to her eyes. “When you come in looking especially tired, you always have a coffee with you, and every single time you’ve had a coffee with you, it has whipped cream on the top.”

Her heart thumped in her chest. Did he notice her that often? Surely he didn’t notice her the way that she’s noticed him. She notices how his tongue darts out and swiftly moved across his bottom lip when he’s concentrated, how he clicks his pen to the beat of the song when they’re playing music in the office, and how he rakes his forefinger and middle finger up and down his throat when he’s really listening to what she has to say.

“I was thinking that we could share this answer key,” he tapped the answer key she had toward the top of the desk, “To grade these papers together. It’s Friday night, I’m sure you wanna get out of here a little early.”

She decided that he was maybe the most thoughtful person she had ever met. There was absolutely no reason that he needed to help her, he could have let her do it all on her own. He didn’t need to get her a coffee either. Maybe she just wasn’t so used to random acts of kindness, or maybe it was the fact that every single day, her attraction to him grew and grew like a plant flourishing in the sunlight. “Did you want me to make a copy?”

“What? Am I sitting too close to you?” He teased, brushing his leg up against hers. She sucked in a small gasp as she felt his knee against hers once more, and maybe it was because she was so touch starved, but she wanted him to do it again and again and again.

“No, no. Not at all,” Y/N said a little too frantically. A little too eagerly.

“Hush, pet. I’m just kidding with you.” Harry spoke softly, letting her know that he was only teasing her.

They worked in silence for a little while until Y/N rested her back against the chair. She was beginning to cramp up from the way she was sitting. Her fingers were beginning to hurt with each stroke of the pen. Her eyes were getting a little blurry from looking at the same thing over and over again, so she used her left hand (the one that wasn’t cramping up) and grabbed her coffee, taking a swig and underestimating the strength of her left hand, causing whipped cream to coat her upper lip.

Harry laughed gently, then used his fingers to wipe the whip cream off her mouth. He grabbed her lips in between his fingers, then wiped the whipped cream onto his pants. She shuddered softly, almost unnoticeably when she felt his fingers so gently across her lips. Though this was not professor and TA behavior she would deem normal, he said nothing about it, and she was beginning to think that maybe she was overthinking the whole thing because she found him so attractive. With one swift sentence, he pulled her from her thoughts.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” He asked her, making subtle conversation as his pen marked a few things on the test he was grading. Like Y/N, Harry wondered what Y/N did in her free time although he never found a way to weasel that into their conversations. While their conversations were mostly made up of random tidbits of their lives, he had never figured out how to ask how she would spend her weekends.

Y/N was about to tell him that she was seeing a comedy show with Niall and Mallory (and Mallory’s boyfriend of course), but she wasn’t sure if Mallory had told Harry they became quick friends. What if Mallory didn’t want him to know? Y/N couldn’t understand why Mallory would think that way, but just in case, she decided she wouldn’t tell him anything about it. “I don’t think so,” she lied plainly, “What about you? Are you doing anything special?”

Harry casually looked up, clicking the pen a few times before replying. “I am doing something tonight. My friends planned it. If I’m being honest, though, I’m not quite sure what we’re doing. They have told me a few times, but it’s gone over my head. At this point, they’re going to swing by my flat and pick me up just so they are certain I’ll actually show up. Not that I don’t want to see them and don’t care about the plans, I’ve just been so busy.”

“Oh,” Y/N tightens and a sudden realization sweeps through her mind. What if he has a girlfriend? She pushed the thought from her head and buried it, “I’m like that too, I think.”

The sudden realization she tried to bury put her in a somewhat sour mood. Harry notices right away, but he doesn’t ask her why she’s suddenly so adrift from their conversation in an attempt to not push her. If something was bothering her and she wanted to talk about it, she would.

They spent the rest of the time grading papers, and before she left for the night, he told her to have a great weekend, and she told him to have the same, the sullen feeling still weighing on her chest.

___________

The bar was very crowded, very noisy, and not usually Y/N’s scene at all. When her and Niall arrived, she quickly introduced him to Mallory, and Mallory introduced her boyfriend—Josh— to them quickly. The comedy show didn’t last too long, and Y/N could have sworn that Mallory said it was a dive bar when she was trying to convince her to come. The atmosphere was that of a nightclub, as the show finished people shuffled to the dance floor and began dancing.

Mallory grabbed Y/N by the arm and ushered her over to the bar, and Y/N was guessing that she could feel the tension radiating from her. “I think a drink will loosen you up. Do you want a drink?” Mallory asked.

“I don’t drink very often,” Y/N said, unsure of what to order. There is one thing that Y/N does know about drinking, and it is that she hates the taste of alcohol. The bar was crowded, and Mallory shoved in between two people sitting in barstools, making room for Y/N. Her fingers brushed against the counter, feeling a cold liquid under her hand. It took everything in her to not scrunch up her nose as she wiped the mystery liquid against the bottom of her satin dress.

“That’s okay,” Mallory said, “Just ask the bartender what he thinks you’ll like.”

Y/N didn’t know how the bartender would know what she likes if she didn’t even know what she liked herself. Mallory ordered something red, but Y/N didn’t know the name of it. She knew immediately that she wasn’t going to get that though, because the smell of vodka coming from Mallory’s drink was strong. Mallory took a strong swig of the drink, not making a face and giving her a thumbs up. It was at that moment that Y/N decided she really liked Mallory’s carefree personality. She really enjoyed Mallory, even if the bar was a little too loud than she would normally like, Y/N decided it was worth it to spend time with Mallory and Niall.

“What can I get for you?” The bartender turned and looked at Y/N after watching Mallory take a sip of her drink to make sure it was made to her satisfaction.

Y/N hesitated, “Something that doesn’t taste like alcohol, I think.”

“I’ve got the perfect drink for you,” he yelled over the music and people talking then reached for a glass from under the counter. He added a few juices to the glass and a steep amount of alcohol. Y/N wasn’t sure if he misheard her and thought she asked for something that did taste like alcohol based on the amount he put it. After the glass was full to the brim, he popped in a little umbrella and slid it over to her. “Let me know if you don’t like it. It’s called Sex on the Beach.”

Sex on the Beach was such a crude name for a beverage, but who was she to judge the name. Maybe it really did taste like sex on the beach. She sipped through the straw and was surprised when it tasted like an assortment of juice and none of the alcohol he had heavily poured into the glass. She murmured a soft thank you, and though he didn’t actually hear her, he knew she was expressing gratitude.

It only took a couple seconds to find out where Niall and Josh had moved. Mallory and Y/N walked over to them with drinks in hand, and even with the one sip Y/N took, she already felt much looser. They found their way to a booth, facing the door.

By the time an hour passed, Y/N and Mallory finished their drinks and Y/N was feeling exceptional. They made their way back to the bar and the bartender winked at her, fixing up another Sex on the Beach and Mallory ordered something different this time.

As they walked back toward the booth, Mallory nudged Y/N with her elbow and pointed toward the door. Y/N watched Harry walk in with a couple of his friends, his eyes locking with hers and then flickering over to Mallory. A grin spread across his face and his hand came up in a slow wave. Mallory quickly waved back and Y/N just stood there, shocked that these were the plans his friends had made with him.

He approached them, leaving his friends to saunter to the bar without him. The three of them exchanged hellos, then he shifted his body to face Y/N. “I thought you weren’t doing anything?” Harry yelled over the music, smoke clouding around the three of them.

“I forgot,” she lied, and Mallory quickly turned her head to look at Y/N as if to say how did you forget when we’ve been talking about it all week.

To Y/N’s misfortune, Mallory said just that. “We’ve been talking about it all week, Y/N. How did you forget?”

Harry’s face sparked with amusement as if she had caught her red handed, her tongue twisting in the shape of the lie that she had so easily told him earlier in the day. Y/N rolled her eyes at Mallory and laughed a little, the alcohol pumping through her veins at an alarmingly fast rate.

“I’ll meet you back at the booth,” Mallory was grinning as she turned her body and walked back over to where Josh and Niall sat, waiting for them to return. Y/N realized that she really needed to explain herself to Mallory, the conversation with Harry probably seemed a little more intimate than it actually was.

“I’m going to go get a drink,” Harry eyed her drink, her Sex on the Beach. Oh, she would love to have that with Harry. Y/N’s tipsy brain was much more scandalous than her sober brain. “Maybe we can talk later.”

Y/N really wanted to spend more time with him. She wanted to sit with him, and meet his friends. It wasn’t going to happen, but she so desperately wanted to. It took a second for her to tear her gaze from his body as he walked away from her and toward the bar to meet his friends. She took this as her cue to not stand in the middle of the dance floor like an idiot and found her way back to the booth where her friends waited for her. Niall looked at her suspiciously but she shrugged her shoulders in response, directing her attention to Josh as he talked about a movie trailer he recently saw and how much he wants to go see the movie in the theater. Y/N knew exactly what movie he was talking about, and said that she wants to see it too, so the four of them made plans to go see the movie next Friday.

Throughout the night, Y/N glanced at Harry and more often than not, they made eye contact with one another. Thirty minutes had passed from the time he walked in the door with his friends, and finally, the last time they locked eye contact, he subtly nodded toward the hall that led to the Billiards room and the bathroom. Immediately, Y/N knew that he was telling her to meet him there.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” she said, the drink still in her hand.

Mallory and Josh thought nothing of it, nodding at her to confirm they heard her, but Niall eyed the drink she sported in between her fingers and gave her a knowing look, a twinkle shining in his eye. Oh, he was definitely going to be asking her about this later.

She staggered toward the hallway, moving through the crowd of people, trying not to spill her drink on herself, the floor, or the people near her. As she made her way to the hall, she felt Harry come up behind her, knowing it was him by the minty citrus scent of his cologne.

Y/N flipped around and the hallway was so crowded with people that they didn’t have much room between them. Her back was slightly pressed against the wall, his thigh placed in between her legs, rubbing her gently. She was suddenly hyper aware of how he felt, how he smelled, and how he looked.

He wore jeans that flare at the bottom, a black sweater tucked into the tops of the jeans. The sneakers he had on matched his outfit perfectly, and it took her until this very moment to realize that he was fairly fashionable. His outfits always looked put together, but they weren’t trendy. They were always timeless and fitted to his lean stature.

“I’ve been looking at you all night,” his tone was soft and his eyes searched hers thoroughly. “You look so cute, y’know?”

Harry took the fabric of her satin dress in between his fingers and felt it, his index finger slowly rubbing against the soft part of her thigh.

“Thank you,” was all she managed to squeak out. He dropped the fabric from his fingers, and she wanted to protest because she wanted to feel his fingers against her. She hadn’t realized how much you could crave someone until you’re one Sex on the Beach in, and then the realization that he knew just how much she ogled him in his office kicked in.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming here tonight because you didn’t want me to know you were with your boyfriend?” His tone was teasing, but she thought just for a second that’s how he was playing it off. Like he wanted confirmation that wasn’t actually the reason and he was fishing for the information.

She held his gaze momentarily before sputtering out, “I don’t have a boyfriend.” She wanted him to know. No, she needed him to know.

“Then who is that blonde bloke you’ve been snuggling up to?” He questioned, knowing she was telling the truth but he wanted to see her squirm just a little bit. She knew it, too. She could tell by the way his voice sounded that he was just messing with her, he wanted a bit of cat and mouse.

“My friend. We’re best friends, actually, and roommates.” Y/N explained, though her brain was a little bit foggy. Not because of the alcohol, no. Actually, she felt like she was sobered up, and needed a little bit more of her drink to get her back to the floaty place she was at when she was sitting in the booth.

He used his right hand to keep himself sturdy, then checked his surroundings and asked her, “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes,” she breathed out. It was loud, but she felt just fine here with him.

The atmosphere was so wild with smoke filtering through the air, that now they really had no room except practically chest to chest as they spoke. The drink he was sporting in his hand was dark tequila on the rocks, and it made so much sense that he could drink hard liquor as is. He exuded that kind of dominance, the kind that says I enjoy the burn in my throat because it feels nice.

The tequila dribbled down her chin, and he used his finger to wipe it up, and as she lowered the drink from her lips, he grazed his index finger over her lips, beckoning for her to open and lick the whiskey she spilled. He didn’t need to coax her, didn’t need to tell her what he wanted, she simply just knew. Her tongue darted out, licking the whiskey from the base of his finger to the tip. He was never really into voyeurism, but he thinks he could take her right here and right now. How did he go from helping her grade papers earlier in the day to pressing her against the wall of a bar with his thigh tense between her legs. They were crossing so many lines, he was crossing so many lines.

“Why are you always cleaning up my face?” She gave him a lazy smile, and her eyes were so innocent.

“Why are you always spilling?” He countered.

He breathed her in, smelling the taste of his whiskey against her lips. He was so close, so close that he could taste her if he really wanted to, so close that she could feel his breath against her face. He decided that he spent too much time thinking about her mouth. About the way her lips parted then closed when she had something to say, but decided not to say anything at all. God, that was so frustrating. He spent so much time thinking about her lips, and the noises that would come from them if he truly could have her that he should just kiss her, right here, right now. “I want to. I really want to,” his voice was low and thick, sultry even.

“Me too,” her voice was small, and once again he was all too aware of the way her legs squeezed his thigh.

Before he could make a choice he couldn’t take back, he pushed himself away, leaving a foot of space between the pair. “You should go back to your friends,” he didn’t want to sound too harsh, so he gently brushed his fingers against his cheek and grasped the glass of tequila with the palm of his hands. “I’ll see you Monday, Y/N.”

Without a word, she made her way back to her friends, feigning the frustration that was building in his chest. For the rest of the night, she glanced in his direction but he never glanced back at her. Maybe he was feeling guilty. Maybe he thought he was making a big mistake.

When they finally got home, Niall didn’t ask her anything like she thought he would and she was grateful.

___________

It started with an ache low in her belly, then slowly spread to her lower back. As she sat in her second hour of Professor Smith’s class, she laid her head against the coolness of the desk. Y/N was trying not to think of her encounter with Harry the Friday before. Nothing had actually happened so it was fine, there was nothing to worry about. Mallory gave her a sympathetic smile, and once more held out the pamprin pills but Y/N shook her head as she had already taken some just an hour before class started.

It was almost like she could feel the color draining from her face, nausea turning in her stomach. She wasn’t expecting her period to come this morning after she had stepped foot on campus. There were no signs as she was greeting ready in the morning. No signs when she stepped out of her apartment. The first sign happened when she was walking from the opposite side of campus to Professor Smith’s class. The dull ache weaseled its way into her lower abdomen, causing subtle pain with each step she took. As she continued to walk, her hand found its way to her abdomen, applying warmth and pressure to rid her of the ache but it wasn’t working.

Quickly, she found a bathroom and slipped into a stall, realizing that her period had come sooner than she was expecting it. With a hurried hand, she rummaged through her bag, pulling out an emergency bottle of pamprin and shuffled the pills past her lips, chugging it down with the water bottle tucked into the side pocket of her backpack.

As soon as she saw Mallory, it was like Mallory could tell she was in an immense amount of pain, because she slung her backpack off of her shoulder and pulled out a bottle of the same pills tucked into a specific pocket of her backpack. Y/N just shook her head, struggling to muster up the words to tell her she had already taken some.

“I think you should leave class a little early. Go to Harry’s class and lay on the couch in the office. There’s no point in staying here, it’s not like you’re able to absorb any of the information while you’re in pain,” Mallory began reasoning with her. As far as she was concerned Mallory didn’t know that Harry and Y/N were so close to kissing at the bar that she could still feel her lips tingling three days later. She didn’t want to go to Harry, and she didn’t want Harry to think she was being dramatic. Y/N wasn’t worried that it would be awkward between her and Harry today, because he was so charming it would have been like Friday never happened, but she was still hesitant. Before she had a chance to think twice another cramp ripped through her, and she was already packing up her backpack and lifting herself from her seat, the dull ache turning into something more sharp and painful as she stood.

It was her intention to slip out the back door, to be as inconspicuous as possible, but her plan to do that was ruined when Professor Smith cleared his throat and called out her name. “Where are you going?”

Y/N didn’t know what to say, she wasn’t keen on telling the whole class that her uterus might fall out of her body if she stayed hunched over in an uncomfortable chair, with the coolness of the desk being the only thing that could soothe her, or that the nausea was building with each second and she might be so low on iron that she vomits all over the floor of the classroom.

The words tumbled out of her mouth like a squeal, “I’m sorry, I’m not feeling too well.”

Professor Smith’s expression remained stoic, not showing any sign of annoyance or even sympathy for the girl standing in pain at the back of the class. Not that she was expecting sympathy, although she was definitely not expecting the next words to fly out of his mouth in front of her silent classmates viewing the exchange between them, “Really, you should stay unless you plan on getting another D on the next test.”

Y/N tried not to look as horrified as she felt, avoiding eye contact with Mallory completely. She failed to mention to her new friend that she was flunking Professor Smith’s class out of sheer embarrassment and the idea that it might get back to Harry, which would be mortifying in itself.

“I’ll be fine,” was all she managed to say as she slipped from the back door of the classroom. Y/N managed to keep her tears at bay until she heard the door latch behind her, then let the silent tears create warm streams down her cheeks. In one swift motion, she lifted her hood up, concealing her face from the other students as she walked toward Harry’s classroom.

It wasn’t a far walk, him being in the same department as Smith and all. She contemplated just sitting in a bathroom stall, the sharp pain in her abdomen and lower back was still going strong and the nausea stirring in her belly was still persistent, but the public humiliation she endured was definitely worse. She decided that the couch in the office was the better option, and if she was going to be sad and in pain, she might as well do it comfortably.

The plan she concocted was this: She would walk into the room with her eyes glued to the floor and her hood up, ask Harry if it was okay if she laid down for a moment, and without making eye contact with him, she would quickly walk to the room then bury her face in the cushions.

So that is exactly what she did, barely peeking up from her hood.

“Is it okay if I lay down on the couch in the office?” she asked, internally grateful that the sob building in her throat hasn’t raked its way through her body. Another silent tear slid down her cheek, but because she was looking straight down, it splattered against his desk, causing him to cock an eyebrow that she couldn’t actually see.

It seemed gravity was against her.

“Yeah, yeah. Of course,” his voice was softer than normal, and she heard the sound of his fingers tapping against the desk.

Without another word, she turned on her heels and bolted toward the office door. Shutting it quickly behind her, she tore off her backpack and curled up into a ball on the couch.

He didn’t even bother knocking like he normally did. Usually his knuckles would tap against the door, signifying he was about to answer. Not necessarily for permission, but just to give her, or Mallory, a heads up that he would be entering.

The door locked behind him, but she didn’t look up as she heard the click of his dress shoes against the tile floor. “What’s going on?” He took a seat at the end of the couch she wasn’t occupying, near her head.

With gentle and delicate fingers, he began to pull her limbs from the ball she had coerced herself into. “Hmmm.. Look at me, darling.”

And how could she not? When he was asking so sweetly? The sound of his voice was like molten chocolate, or honey dripping straight from the pot. He was wearing her favorite shirt. The satin shirt that exposes his tattoos just a little bit. The same shirt he wore the first time she ever met him, when he caught her staring at his chest a little too much that he buttoned another button and gave her a somewhat disapproving but playful look. She thinks maybe if she could just run her hand over his chest she would forget about the terrible day she was having, but that was inappropriate and she shouldn’t think like that.

“Oh, sweet thing you are,” his hand brushed a tear that fell from her cheek, “Come on, sit up for me now.”

She obliged, like she always does. As a child she never took a reprimand well, which must have bled into her adult life because she always did what she was told. It was something Harry picked up on rather quickly, she aimed to please, and the psychologist in him really wanted to get to the bottom of it, but the empath in him never wanted to make her uncomfortable by pointing it out. Sometimes he had to make a mental note that she was so receptive to the people around her, he had to choose his words carefully.

She made a simple noise, between a yelp and a cry before wiping her nose with the back of her sleeve. “In pain,” was all she said.

He reached over, pulling a couple tissues from the end table next to the couch. Harry wrinkled his nose, realizing that it’s not uncommon for students to shed tears in this office, whether it be a student overwhelmed with the course load, or something else. Typically, he’s able to get to the bottom of it, but now he’s got his TA in here with tears streaming like Niagara Falls, and she only says she’s in pain, except he doesn’t believe that’s the full truth.

Her legs were tucked to the side bunched up, and she leaned on her left arm to support herself up. He didn’t want to pry, or tell her he didn’t think she was being completely honest, because that wouldn’t accomplish anything. Instead, he decided he wouldn’t treat her like a patient, because that’s not what she was to him. She is a graduate student, and he was in her same position just a little under two years ago. He once told her that he wanted her to call him Harry because she felt more like a colleague than a student, so instead, he would treat her like a friend.

“Let me help you, hm?” His fingers grazed her arm that was supporting her up, his eyes locking with her red rimmed ones. “How can I help?”

And it was almost like she knew if her request crossed a line, he would still grant it because her voice was small but sure when she said, “I just want someone to hold me.”

So, that’s what he did. He pulled her up onto his lap, and grasped her in his arms. Her face nuzzled into the crook of his neck, and he could feel the slow breaths she was taking as the tears finally came to a halt. It was almost like he was holding her back together. If they were crossing lines, he might as well cross one more, “Are you gonna be honest with me now, hm?”

She nodded her head, deciding now was the time to come clean. A weight that was pushing down on her shoulders was about to be lifted and even though she would have a hard time stomaching the embarrassment that came with it, or the look he would give her that might indicate she was stupid, it was time that she just told him. Before Mallory beat her to it, even if she was sure in the deep pit of her gut that Mallory would simply never bring it up.

Y/N lets out a slow, shaky breath before she begins explaining. “I wasn’t feeling too great when I got to school, and during my second hour of abnormal psych, Mallory told me I should come lay down because the pain was getting really intense, so I decided to slip out the backdoor…” She trailed off, not quite sure how to tell him the rest without having to relieve the situation. Some might say she was being a little dramatic, but she had every right to be upset. He stroked her sides as if to tell her “go on” without explicitly saying the words.

“As I was walking out Professor Smith asked where I was going and I told him that I wasn’t feeling too well,” the tears pricked once more, “So he said that I should probably stay if I didn’t want to get a D on another test in front of everyone.”

The smooth stroking against her arm came to a halt, and she realized then that he was probably going to chastise her for leaving class too, but his voice was soft when he said, “He said that to you?”

She nodded, even though she could tell the question was rhetorical. Her eyes fluttered closed again, the tips of her eyelashes gently grazing against the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart. That is never something you say to a student, especially in front of such a public audience.” His words flowed out, and she sensed the psychologist in him poking out.

“It was really, really embarrassing.” Y/N mumbled into the crook of his neck, and the feel of her lips against his neck made his body slightly tense up.

“Why didn't you tell me you got a D? I probably could have helped you work something out with him.” He reasoned with her, relaxing once more into the back of the couch. The encounter she was having with him right now was so much different than the encounter she had with him on Friday night, but neither of them brought it up.

She shook her head, nuzzling into him further and even though she knew it was inappropriate, she just wanted to breathe him in. They had already crossed those lines.

He wasn’t having it. He hooked his fingers below her chin, and pulled her face from his neck. “Hm? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t tell you because I’ve been flunking his tests all semester. There isn’t one test I got a decent grade on… And I was embarrassed, and I felt like a huge fraud sitting in this room, grading tests and not even understanding the content of them. And I just felt stupid. I didn’t want you to think I was stupid.”

“I would never think you’re stupid, Y/N. Surely you know that. I just wish you would have told me. There’s still time to turn your grade around, you and I will work together so that you start understanding the concepts. We’ll set up tutoring. Sweetheart, you’re so smart.” She knew he tacked on that last part for a little extra validation.

Now that she’s talked it out, she feels a little silly for letting so many tears spill over it. He was right, she wasn’t stupid. She just needed a little extra help, and he was willing to give it. She suddenly felt all too aware of her presence on his lap, and began to move herself off of it. Her eyes catching his lips as she shifted just a little, and the overwhelming urge to kiss him took over once more. If she could, she would grab his face then and there and plant one on him, but it felt demure and childish to lust in that way, even with Friday night playing in the back of her mind.

As if he could read the thoughts swimming through her brain, he brought his fingers to her lips and gently tugged at the pout. His fingers trailed down her jaw, and caressed an area of her neck. Her breathing began to pick up as her heart thumped against her ribcage. Sure, he would touch her every now and again when she was working alongside him, and as much as she wanted it to be intimate, it was never like this. She was almost halfway off his lap when he brought his lips— so soft, so gentle, and so pink— against her cool ones, leaving a slight tingling sensation behind.

He gently pulled away, a sultry look dancing across his features. She felt the heat on her cheeks as she stared down into his lap, finally shifting herself completely off of his lap. When she looked up at him, she could tell the flush in his cheeks was not the same as the flush in hers. It was more desire than anything.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he breathed, his eyes fluttering closed with the end of his sentence.

No, no. Y/N didn’t want him to feel that way. He may have been a professor, but he wasn’t actually her professor, and they were so close in age. Surely if they were doing something wrong, it would have felt wrong. Last Friday would have felt wrong too, but it didn’t. If this wasn’t okay then it wouldn’t have felt so right, like his lips were made just for her and only her. “I wanted it.”

“I know you did,” he explained. “It was a vulnerable moment. It can’t happen again.”

She simply nodded in agreement, although she wanted to argue with him, even if it wasn’t in her nature to be so combative. Something washed over her because in that moment, the ache that was stabbing in her lower back didn’t matter, she just wanted to stomp her foot on the ground and tell him that wasn’t fair, but the worst part about it is that he would agree with her. That they had already beat the boundary down with a baseball bat. The moment he slipped his thigh in between her legs and pressed her against the wall of a bar, the boundary had vanished. When he brought his finger to her lips and she licked so slowly, so sensually, the boundary had been gone completely. How can they decide to put it back now? How could she when she finally knew what he tasted like. He knew it wasn’t fair to do that, but it shifted her feelings from sadness over her poor grades and the hostile situation she had just come from to placing her frustration toward him, and that was something he could deal with.

He stood up, a sudden aloofness filling the room. It was almost as if the tension was so thick it was banging on the doors and pushing at the windows to find its way out. Like he could feel its desperation to exit the room, he hooked his finger in the door knob and flung it open, cool air infiltrating the room and brushing over Y/N’s body.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, swiveling the chair near his desk around to face her. She knew he wasn’t talking about the kiss, the ever-so-soft-he-probably-didn't-mean-it-an unfriendly-way-kiss, he was talking about her cramps.

She held her lower belly, his eyes averting from how her hand slipped down her stomach and held, “Better. I think the pamprin is finally kicking in.”

“Good,” he offered a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and she wanted to pull her eyelashes out if the tension between them was going to cause a drift in their relationship, er? Friendship?

Y/N didn’t know what else to say, she didn’t want to make things more awkward than they already felt for her. Without looking at him directly, she gestured toward her shared desk with Mallory and made a slight shrugging motion with her shoulders. “Since I’m here I should probably just start working on what I’ll be starting in an hour anyway.”

He got up from the chair, and nodded in agreement. The aloofness was beginning to dissipate, as he offered up a grin that finally met his green eyes again. That’s the grin she looked forward to every single afternoon, though she didn't think she would ever be able to work up the courage to tell him. If there is one thing Harry picked up on in the short two months of her assisting him, she worked off of praise. The simplest thing, even just neatly organizing her and Mallory’s pens in a cup was something he would recognize and give her a thumbs up or mumble an appreciative wow, it looks great, Y/N, so that is what he was going to continue to do.

“You’re so efficient,” he praised, “But I don’t want you to start if you’re not feeling completely better yet. Why don’t you just take an hour or so to lay down, hm?”

Even though she wanted to start her work right away, she knew he was right and was only looking out for her, so she mumbled a small “okay” in a very reluctant tone.

He took a few steps in the direction toward the classroom and out of the office before quickly turning around and asking her a question he did not want to forget, “When are you available for tutoring?”

She wanted to tell him to just forget about it, and that she didn’t need his help as the pride twisted and turned in her brain, but she had a strong feeling that he was going to be disappointed in her if she said, forget it, and Y/N didn’t know if she could handle much more disappointment from the people around her in one day.

“Every day after I finish here, I’m free,” her words were small and slow as they fell from her lips.

“That’s perfect, after school we can either sit in here and work or the library, or even my flat if you’re not feeling comfortable in the library,” he listed quite a few options, then finally walked out of the office and shut the door behind him, leaving Y/N to her thoughts.

Her fingers slowly touched her lips, trying to remember the feeling of his lips against hers. She didn’t want to forget any details. His woodsy cologne filled her nostrils, and she could almost see that alluring look swimming in his eyes.

To put it plainly, she just wanted to scream in frustration.

___________

Harry was so screwed and he knew it from the second she stepped foot in the door of his classroom. The way her eyes averted from his and toward the plain wall behind him, the way she marveled at the tattoos that peaked from the tops of shirts (which he realized he would show them off more now, just so he could catch her lingering gaze and watch her quickly look away in embarrassment. Maybe it said something about him, but he loved to watch her become flustered), or the way her hand trembled just barely as she handed him the paper which confirmed she was his assistant that first day.

When he saw her at the bar on Friday night and the way her body responded to him, the way she was just so eager to please, he knew the thoughts he was having weren’t just one-sided. It was hard to get her off of his mind, he hadn’t experienced this kind of attraction in a long while. The psychologist in him tried to reason that it was because it felt somewhat forbidden— even though the school rules didn’t go completely against it, she just couldn’t TA for him anymore or ever take a class with him as her professor— he knew it was much more than that.

She spoke eloquently, her walk was captivating, her smile was innocent, and she just felt good to him. He thinks maybe whoever created the flowers that grew in the crevices of sidewalk, creating beauty in the most absurd places, possibly made her too. She was just like that, a captivating flower amongst the mundane world around her, blooming to the best of her ability and relying on the sunshine that sometimes came and went.

She was just special to him.

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