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#one direction harry styles
hslwt91 · 1 year
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Love On Tour, Los Angeles, Night XV
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fatiblogsworld · 7 months
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Mr. Reeves had totally fucked my mind, my heart and my soul..
I'm officially not virgin.
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malfoyx · 1 month
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Harry Styles
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1dgalleryx · 10 months
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lyrasky · 1 year
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Harry Styles【Late Night Talking】和訳グラミー賞受賞おめでとう 解説 Congrats Grammy Awards!
Harry Styles【Late Night Talking】和訳グラミー賞受賞おめでとう 解説 Congrats Grammy Awards! Lyraのブログへ #HarryStyles #HarrysHouse #KidHarpoon #LateNightTalking #TylerJohnson #MattWolach #GarammyAwards #ハリースタイルズ #onedirection #グラミー賞 #DuaLipa
Congrats on winning the Grammy Awards Harry Styles!! グラミー賞受賞おめでとうハリー!! 去年アメリカンチャートで初No.1をお祝いする為に、このブログで和訳&解説しました。 今年は、嬉しいことに更に上を行く初アメリカのグラミー賞受賞(アルバム賞、ポップアルバム賞)という快挙を成し遂げるなんてHarry は凄い人です。 ついでにLyraが応援すると必ず売れる、それも歴史に残るくらいバカ売れする、という事実もまたHarry Stylesが証明してくれたので感謝もしていますう〜(最近だとManeskinもねん) 「嬉し過ぎる出来事はつづくのね〜」と感慨深いし、Harry…
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stylessupremacy · 2 years
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when did hslotrry get married?
June 8th, 2019!!
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finelinefae · 1 month
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flower [tattooH x Innocenty/n]
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synopsis: harry's the boy next door, he's also a tattoo artist aannd y/n's sexual awakening because she's an innocent virgin with a flower shop. 
word count: 8.6k
content warnings: smut (fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, virgin Y/N) 
read part 2 here
my first imagine !! i hope u enjoy it !! i enjoy it here very much !
. . .
Y/N had been having a terrible week.
She owned a flower shop called 'Sweet Juniper' which had been hers for almost an entire year. It had been her dream to share her love of flowers with everybody so when she finally saved enough money to set up a shop, she worked tirelessly to make it the best possible floral shop the town had ever seen.
People would put in special requests if they needed flower arrangements for special occasions or others would just come by to just lift their mood a little bit if they were having a tough day. Y/N loved her customers and spent so much time chatting throughout the day all whilst tending to her plants.
But this week was not fun.
The shop next door had been empty for a long time now - ever since Y/N had set up shop. She lived in the flat above the shop so it was ideal not to have to handle any neighbours. But the past few weeks, decorators and construction workers had been making a lot of noise - fixing up the empty shop - which meant someone was moving in.
Y/N hadn't met them yet so she wasn't sure what the shop next door would be. The town was relatively quiet so she expected a bakery or maybe a clothing boutique. Only yesterday, with the shop all set up and ready to go, she found it to be nothing of the sort.
It was dark and music pulsed through the walls of her flower shop. The heavy bass made it sound like someone was trying to fight their way through the floorboards she had painted a very, very light pink.
Her customers had complained especially the older bunch. They had trouble concentrating whenever they tried to talk to her or hear her advice on what the best flowers were during the current autumn season.
So after a not-so-fun week and frequent visits to the corner shop to top up her headache medication, Y/N made the decision to confront her new neighbour and tell them exactly how she felt. She wasn't going to let her flower shop fail because of an inconsiderate, noisy fool.
Y/N flipped the sigh from 'open' to 'closed' and took off her apron which had her name in swirly handwriting embroidered onto the breast pocket. She took three deep breaths and mentally went through her speech. She wouldn't be unkind but she would be fair.
"You can do this Y/N," She said to herself before she exhaled and opened the door to walk five steps over to her next-door neighbour.
She hadn't seen the shop properly since the decorating was completed so was immediately struck by how dark it was in comparison to her own shop. It was painted black with illustrations and pictures of people's tattoos set up in the shop window.
The pavement was lit up in the darkness by the red neon lights coming from inside the shop. Everything about it was so different to her baby pink and white flower shop.
The sudden thought of turning back and going upstairs to her apartment almost tempted her enough to turn away but she knew the problem would not be resolved if she were to sit by and do nothing.
Her Mary Jane heels tapped against the pavement as she came to stand in front of the door. It seemed as though the shop was still open, so she pushed the door and stepped inside.
The smell of tobacco and musk and ink hit her senses as she closed the door behind her. The heavy bass of the music was now pounding through her ears. The nerves were rising within her and turning back seemed much more tempting now.
She spun on her heel and reached for the door handle, only to be stopped by someone clearing their throat.
"Are you here for a tattoo?" His voice was deep, husky and... pretty.
She turned around and was met with a tall figure standing in the doorway to the back of the shop. His arms were by his side and he was wearing a black, fitted shirt with black trousers and low cut doc martens with red laces. His face was illuminated by the red, neon sign on the wall with the words 'Styles INK' written in a grungey font.
"T-tattoo?" She gulped, the script she had rehearsed over and over again was nowhere to be found like the words had silently fallen from her brain, through her nose and slipped from her mouth before she had time to speak them out loud.
He walked to the front desk, footsteps heavy against the wooden floor. "We don't take walk-ins this late at night if that's what you're after."
The tone of his voice made her tremble in her heels. She curled her fingers into a fist and tried to stop her heart from beating so fast. "I-I'm not here for a tattoo. I-I'm actually from next door."
His head lifted up, she could finally see the colour of his eyes were a pale green and his hair was curly and brunette. "Ahhh," He dropped the pen he was fiddling with on the desk, "The flower girl."
She huffed, "Yes, that would be me."
"M allergic to flowers." He said.
"W-what? Why would you set up shop next to a flower shop then?" She asked.
"Only place that offered a space with an apartment." A breath slipped past her lips.
He was not only her shop neighbour but her neighbour neighbour too.
Well, this just made things a bit more awkward.
He came in front of the desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms. Y/N saw every inch of the skin on his arm littered with tattoos and even caught a glimpse of his ring-clad fingers. "Listen, if you're not here for a tattoo then why are you here? I need to close up so I'd appreciate it if you were quick with whatever it is you came here for."
Y/N swallowed her nerves, "Your music is too loud a-and it's driving my customers away."
"What was that?" He wanted her to repeat herself.
"Y-Your music, it's much too loud and my customers are c-complaining." She wished she didn't stutter but at least she got what she needed to say out.
"My music?" His eyebrows scrunch up.
"Yes." She nods.
"What about your music?" He retorts, "s all I can hear when I'm upstairs."
She immediately blushes and wonders how long he has been staying in the apartment upstairs. Y/N was so used to not having neighbours that she hadn't thought to turn her music down or take a break from her lonesome karaoke nights.
"That's different."
"If I have to hear you sing to that broken-hearted, bubble-gum pop princess every night then you can't complain about me playing my music like I have." He argues.
"B-but I don't play it in the day like you do! It's so loud! It is - hey quit laughing!" She huffs when he snickers at her.
"M sorry, you're just so little." He laughs. "Maybe that's why I haven't seen you since I've moved in."
Y/N crossed her arms, "I'd just appreciate it if you turned your music down a little, just so my customers can shop for their flowers in peace."
He says nothing. Instead, his eyes scan her face and then fall on the rest of her. She was wearing light blue jeans and a pink, cosy sweater. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail with a white, silk ribbon and her heels were still on her now aching feet.
He smirks, "Alright, I'll turn my music down but you have to do the same. I don't want to hear you sing about Romeo and Juliet or running out of the woods at 11 o'clock at night when I'm trying to relax."
She turns pink but luckily the red light hides the true colour of her cheeks, "Fine." She huffs and turns on her heel, too embarassed to say anything else.
"It was nice to meet you, flower." He says and she swears she can hear him smiling.
Her entire face heats at the nickname.
***
The next day, Y/N walked downstairs to her flower shop and prepared for a new day. She spent the rest of her night after visiting the stranger next door, quietly listening to music in hopes he would reciprocate today.
She hadn't seen him since last night and part of her was grateful for that. He was tall and intimidating and covered in tattoos but his voice was just so...nice that she couldn't seem to get the thought of him out of her head since she walked out of his tattoo shop. It was embarrassing to admit and Y/N was awfully bad at hiding her emotions so she hoped that would be the last time she'd speak to him face to face.
When she flipped the sign on the door to 'open', she held her breath as she waited for the sound of heavy, rock music coming through the walls only to find complete silence. She smiled and mindfully tapped herself on the back for being brave enough to go over and stand her ground.
Her customers were happy with the change too. They stayed and chatted with Y/N for a while, bringing home their baskets of flowers. The day had been much more successful than the past week had and she was thankful things would finally get back on track.
After cleaning the shop at the end of the day, she walked upstairs to her apartment and immediately decided to get into her new cute pyjamas she had ordered from Hollister - long trouser bottoms and a cute tank top both covered in the same pink, ditsy floral print.
She made herself some dinner and snuggled up on her tiny couch with her pet cat, Marshel, nestling to the side of her. Y/N hummed in delight when she made the decision to re-watch her favourite Harry Potter movie- it was the best film for the autumn weather.
Ten minutes into the movie sounds of people speaking and loud music sounded through the walls of her apartment. "Oh please no," She looked up at the ceiling, praying that someone out there would put her out of her misery.
It could only be her new neighbour, the tattoo artist, the one with the nice voice.
She pressed her ear against the door of her apartment and from the racket of people speaking and how loud the music was, she knew he was having a party.
"It's going to be a long night Marsh." She sighs, picking up her kitty and carrying him to bed.
At 2 am, Y/N was still awake. The party was still going and the music had yet to quieten down.
Y/N had been tossing and turning all night. Tears in her eyes as she tried to sleep but couldn't because of the loud noises coming from next door. At this rate, she'd only get four hours of sleep before she had to be up again for the busiest day of the week at the shop.
She couldn't handle it anymore. She flipped her duvet off and swung her legs over the bed. Her eyes fighting to stay open as she stumbled for the door.
At this rate, she was so tired she didn't care how she looked. She just wanted the quiet.
She flung her front door open and already found herself outside the tattoo artist's door. She knocked but the music was so loud, the only thing she could do was invite herself in.
The door opened and suddenly she was in a whole new world. There was cigarette smoke and a strong stench of alcohol. It was dark but red LED lights lit the room. People were laying on the floor or sitting around chairs or dancing in the empty spaces. There must have been about thirty people but with how tiny the apartment was it felt like much more.
Y/N took a deep breath and began her mission to find the source of where the music was coming from. Everyone was much taller than her which made it harder for her to push past people, especially in their drunken state.
"Excuse me please," she mumbled.
"Flower," his voice made her freeze in place.
She stilled and spun round on her sock-covered feet, making a mental note to throw them in the trash when she got home.
The person standing in front of her looked the same, wearing the same all black outfit he wore yesterday. She could see the illustrations of his tattoos a little better this close and she could also see the anger that covered the features of his face.
"Y-you." She said through parted lips, unable to hide her fear or shock.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a corner of the room. He placed his hand on the wall behind her and covered her with his body like he wanted to hide her away.
"The m-music it's too loud and I-I can't sleep." She said, nearing on tears.
"You and your loud music." He muttered, "It's Saturday night. Shops aren't open on a Sunday."
"Mine is." She said.
"What?"
"I open my shop on a Sunday. I do work shops for little kids whose parents have to work on weekends and for elderly people who get a little lonely." It was her favourite day of the week but now she was dreading it because of the lack of sleep.
His expression seemed to soften but he rolled his eyes, "Of course you do."
"I just need to sleep for four more hours and then you can carry on doing whatever you're doing." He smirked.
"You've never been to a party before flower girl?" She shook her head and yawned.
Harry's smile fell and he sighed. He looked around at the party and then at the sleepy girl in front of him. "Fucks sake." He muttered and wrapped an arm around her.
Y/N's eyes widened when his hand rested on her shoulder. He tucked her into his side and quickly manoeuvred past everybody.
"Is that your new girl Styles?"
"Nice one, H."
"Have fun Styles."
"Ignore them." Harry told her as he reached their front door.
"Is that your name? Styles?" Y/N realised she had yet to ask what his name actually was.
"S Harry. You call me Harry." He says and she smiles at how normal and soft his name was compared to his dark and grizzly stature.
She hadn't realised what he was doing until he opened the door to her apartment. She gasped, suddenly wide awake and highly alert considering he was now in her very messy, untidy apartment.
"W-what are you doing?" She ran to her sofa and picked her blankets up from the floor before grabbing her bowl of popcorn from the coffee table that was littered with books and magazines she was halfway through reading.
Harry's eyes darted around her small apartment. The corner of his lips flinched into an almost smile when he saw the pastel colours littered around the place. It was so her - cute and cosy.
"You wanted to sleep." He said, "M helping you sleep."
Her mouth opened and closed in shock, "Helping me sleep?"
"Mhm, I've got these," He pulled out some earbuds from his pocket, "They're noise cancelling. Can't hear a sound when you've got them in your ears."
She looked at them in intrigue, "Where's your room?" He wondered, already walking in the direction of her bedroom like he'd been in her apartment many times before.
"My room's a little untidy," She tried to get past him so she could block him from coming into her room but he was much too tall.
"Don't care flower, just helping you out." He walked into the messy bedroom and paid no mind to the state of the floor. She'd never had a man in her room before so wasn't sure exactly what to do. Her apartment seemed so much smaller from his presence alone. "Get into bed, love." He pulled out his phone.
"O-okay," She said and tucked herself under her blanket.
It was strange to let a person she barely knew into the confines of her room but she was too tired to care and something inside of her trusted him.
He crouched beside her, resting an arm on her mattress. "Here put these in," He handed her the headphones, "Can you hear me?" He asked but received no reply, instead, Y/N giggled.
"I can't hear you Harry!" She laughed and something weird happened in his chest.
He smiled, "Tha's good." He murmured and put on a song he knew she would like.
Her heart stopped beating in her chest when the gentle piano music began to play. An instrumental of 'Cardigan' by her favourite singer whispered into her ears as he played it on a low volume.
"Sleep now flower." He encouraged.
"M name's Y/N." She whispered, her eyes fluttering shut, "You can call me Y/N."
"Y/N," He whispered back and the name seemed to unlock something deep inside of him. He said it once more for good measure before leaving her there with the music still playing.
***
Y/N woke up the next morning with a phone that was not hers resting right by her head. She had managed to fall asleep for four hours thanks to the man who she now knew as Harry. She felt as though last night was a fever dream and Harry had been a guardian angel, granting her sleep at last.
She could have slept in for another four hours but the shop would not run itself and she had many workshops on today that a lot of people had signed up for. She grabbed Harry's phone and made a mental note to give it back to him before she went to open the shop.
She made herself a good breakfast and fed Marshel as well, before getting dressed into a grey mini dress with a cute white collar and an encrusted black bow. She tied her hair back into a half up, half down and fastened it with a black bow to match her dress. She wore the same black Mary Jane heels and a bag with her packed lunch inside.
When she left her apartment, she listened out for any loud music coming from Harry's apartment only to be met with silence. She knocked three times- his phone in her hands- but no one answered.
She'd come back later, she thought. Maybe he was also catching up on some much-needed sleep.
Her first workshop of the day was with a group of children.
Their parents worked weekends and some of them were from the orphanage that they had signed up to help them develop new hobbies. Y/N knew them all by name and loved teaching them how to grow their own tomato plants and arrange flowers with cute bows.
An hour before lunch, she had a class with a group of mothers whose children had just left home. Most of them came because they needed a little company on the weekends when not a lot was going on at home or they wanted to pick up a new hobby.
In the midst of her basket weaving session, Y/N heard a phone ring. She glanced at the phone still on the front desk and saw the screen lighting up. "Excuse me ladies," she slid off the chair and walked over to Harry's phone.
Mike Supplier was the name on the screen. She wondered whether or not it was important and if she should answer it just in case. The phone stopped ringing for a brief moment until the name lit up the screen again.
"Seems important, Y/N." One of the ladies said.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and walked to the back room, pressing the green button to accept the call. "Fucking finally!" A gruff voice speaks on the other end, "I've got your stash when do you want it?"
"Excuse me?" Y/N blushed, not use to such aggressive language.
The person paused, "Are you Styles' new lady? Listen can you put him on the phone? I need to speak to him urgently."
Y/N was in shock, "I'm not his lady! I'm his neighbour."
"Well, whatever you are could you just pass the phone to him?"
"Give me a second," She huffed, entering the shop again and turning towards the ladies who were in deep conversation, "Ladies, I just need a moment to go next door." They nodded.
Y/N could hear Mike Supplier cursing over the phone even as she had it by her side. She noticed Harry's shop was still unopened so went upstairs instead.
She knocked on the door of his apartment repeatedly until she finally heard footsteps coming towards the door. His door swung open, "Can I help you flower?" Her eyes widened.
He stood in the doorway with nothing but grey sweatpants and socks. His bare torso was littered with tattoos and his brunette hair was clipped with a tiny claw clip.
"Your p-phone," She held it out to him. His eyebrows furrowed like he had a lot of questions as to why she had his phone but he took it from her anyway and held it to his ear.
"Yeah, yeah shut up." He spoke. Y/N could still hear Mike Supplier talking on the other end. "Come by this afternoon. I'll wait outside the shop and don't wear that dodgy fucking hat this time."
The conversation ended and Y/N stood awkwardly in front of him. "Well I should go,"
"Wait," Harry stopped her "Did you steal my phone from me flower girl?"
"N-no! You left it in my apartment." She argued.
"Oh yeah," he grins like he was thinking back to being in her room last night, "Your lips go all pouty and you snore when you sleep you know that? 'S cute."
"Hey," she huffed, "I do not snore!"
"Whatever you say baby." Her cheeks warmed at the new nickname he had accidentally added to the seemingly growing collection.
"W-well who was that anyway. He was a little rude." She mumbled.
"You spoke to him?" He arched a brow, "was he rude to you?"
"He swore at me,"
"Dick." Harry muttered, "He's my supplier."
"Oh like for the shop?" She asked. Harry could have sworn he was having palpitations from how innocent she looked.
"No baby," he smirked, "a different kind of supplier."
"Oh," she said, still not fully understanding what he was getting at, "Well I better get down to the shop. My class is waiting for me."
"Sure I'll come with you." He grabbed a sweater and his jacket from the coat hanger.
"Wait, what? No."
"I'm bored and I want to hang out with you." He shrugs, "I don't see how that's a problem."
"You want to hang out with me?" She couldn't make sense of it.
"Mhm," He shut the door of his apartment behind him, "Lead the way, flower girl."
Y/N argued with him as they walked back downstairs. She tried to push him out of the shop before he could even step foot inside but she was too small for his 6ft frame and he gently grabbed her waist and picked her up as if she weighed nothing, stepping into the shop.
All eyes turned in their direction. Y/N blushed and stuttered as she said, "L-ladies, this is my neighbour."
"Hi, I'm Harry." He said from behind.
The ladies looked confused and then concerned and then suddenly they were grinning ear to ear, slipping out of their seats to welcome their new guest.
"Oh Harry, you look as old as my boy! It's so lovely to meet you." Mildred, one of the elder ladies said.
"Nice to meet you too." He spoke in a warm, almost flirtatious way.
Y/N stood there in shock, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Kathy and Lucy had already sat him in between them both and got him the things he needed to weave a basket.
"Are you interested in flowers Harry?" Julia asked.
He looked across the table over at Y/N whose cheeks seemed to be a shade of red they'd never even been before. "Only one."
"Oh well Y/N's an excellent teacher. We're making hanging baskets to plant daffodils in them for the spring."
"Hmm I guess I've come to the best place to learn then." His eyes remained fixed on Y/N who defeatedly picked up her basket to show Harry exactly how to make one himself.
"How are you so good at this?" Y/N whispered in awe as Harry finished his basket.
"These hands are good with fiddly things." He says.
"Oh that's wonderful Harry!" Kathy exclaimed, "You could take over Y/N's job. Might help her out and she can finally have a much deserved rest."
"S that right? You tired flower?" Harry murmured when he saw Y/N's eyes opening and closing as she leant against the desk.
"Not tried at all," she lied but Harry seemed to see right through her.
"Hmm," he frowned which immediately had Y/N standing straight and trying to disguise her exhaustion a little better.
"You hungry?" A tall shadow loomed in front of Y/N as she sat at the desk, processing payments for her classes and labelling the baskets for the ladies to take home.
She looked up and saw Harry, his voice now a familiarity after the last almost twenty four hours since she had met him. "A-a little." She decided not to lie this time since apparently, she was much easier to read than she thought.
"I've got food upstairs, wanna come up?" He asks.
"A-Are you sure?" 
"C'mon little flower, I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't mean it." With a nod, Y/N locked up the shop for lunch and followed Harry up to his apartment. When she stepped inside, it was completely different to how it had been last night. 
It was clean and tidy. A few boxes were lying on the carpeted floor of his open living room here and there, but for the most part, it was pretty neat. Y/N's eyes were immediately taken by the prints hanging up on the wall. 
"These are incredible." She gasped, feeling particularly fond of a line drawing of a woman. 
"It's my mother," He stood next to her, looking up at the drawing with her. 
"You drew it?" She asked, wide-eyed.
"Mhm," He hummed. 
"Wow, no wonder you're a tattoo artist," She glanced at the intricate tattoos littered on his arms. 
"Ever thought of getting one yourself?" He asked. 
"N-Not really, I'm no good with needles." She said, rather sheepishly. 
He smirked, "Let's get some food in that tummy." 
Twenty minutes later, Y/N and Harry sat on the small two-person couch eating sandwiches and a fruit salad they had prepared together in Harry's even smaller kitchen. Y/N giggled as Harry threw a grape into the air and tried to catch it in his mouth.
"T-tell me about your tattoos," Y/N insisted after taking a bite out of a strawberry. Harry's eyes looked down at her lips and back to her big, doe eyes. "What does this one mean?" She questioned, pointing to the words written in Hebrew.
"M' sisters name," He starts, "And that says 'Can I stay?'" 
"Hmm, you have a lot of hearts." She said, fingers lightly touching the human heart on his arm. 
"I have a lot of love." He grins, cheekily, like he knew the line was cheesy but wanted to use it anyway. He was glad he did from the smile it had formed on Y/N's face.
Y/N hadn't realised how close they had gotten until she felt his breath on her neck.  Her voice wavers slightly as she tries not to think too much about it, "And what about this one," She points to the rose, her fingers tracing the petals. 
"I did that one myself," He murmured, lips close to her ear. 
"You did?" She said but it came out more as a whisper. She seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, her brain turning to mush and all her thoughts suddenly turning into Harry. 
"Mhm," She glanced up and his deep, green eyes were already boring into her. Her eyes darted down to his lips and then back up again. "You're pretty," He mumbled, loud enough so she could hear.
She shook her head, "I-I don't think so," She was suddenly flustered and confused and wondering why her brain was not acting the way it usually did. 
"I know so," His hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ears, and she shudders when his fingertips brush against her cheek. Slowly his head inches forward and the nearer he gets it feels as though more oxygen leaves the room. "Relax," He whispers, touching her hand, "You're okay flower girl."
"H-Harry, I-I've never kissed anyone before." She admits, embarrassment flooding her. 
"What?" He furrows his eyebrows. 
"O-oh, it's just that... I've never been k-kissed before."
"By anyone?" She nods. "Impossible." He whispers.
"We can stop if you want to," He says, his voice gentle and comforting.
"No," She wraps her small fingers around his wrist before he pulls away, "I-I want to,"
"Want to what?" He smirks, "You've gotta tell me baby."
"I want to k-kiss you," She blushes, it's all she seems to do around him.
"Cute," He murmurs before his lips press to hers.
Y/N's not sure what to do at first, her eyes are open and shock courses through her, but Harry's lips move against hers and he breathes, "Relax flower," He insists and she does. 
Her eyes flutter shut and she mimics his movements. What he gives, she gives right back and a small whimper leaves her when he kisses her even harder. She starts to lose her breath with how long they kiss for but she's far too deep, floating too much, to pull away. She grabs the back of his neck and pulls him in closer, a groan eliciting from somewhere deep inside him. "Baby," The name escapes his lips and a shiver runs through her. 
With panting breaths, she pulls away and so does he. Her face is flushed and his lips are pink, "You okay?" Is the first thing he asks, receiving a nod. "I think 'm a little bit obsessed with you." He confesses.
"M-Me?" She couldn't believe what he was saying. 
"Don't think I've ever wanted anything more," He looks away like being vulnerable is a foreign thing for him.
"Why?" She can't help but ask.
He shrugs, "Sometimes it just is." 
She thinks on his words before replying, "Can we kiss again?" 
Harry chuckles, "Kiss me all you want flower."
. . .
Y/N had a permanent smile on her face the next day as she went back to work. People asked her what was making her so happy and she was constantly finding things to lie about instead of speaking the name of the tattooed boy next door. 
An hour before lunch, the postman came to deliver her new ribbons for the bouquets and accidentally dropped off a package meant for Harry. Y/N couldn't help but smile at his name written on a brown box. 
"Give me a second ladies, I'm just going to pop next door." Y/N grinned, ignoring the knowing looks of the ladies she was teaching. 
As Y/N walked next door, her confidence seemed to shrink with every step. She realised she had yet to go to Harry's tattoo shop when he was actually working and she knew she would stick out like a sore thumb once she took a step inside. She was wearing a lilac dress and white heels, of course, she was going to stand out.
The bell rang as she stepped inside and a few customers looked up, some of them doing a double take at the small girl. Music played through the speakers but it was a lot less quiet compared to the first day Harry's shop had opened. 
Footsteps walked on the wooden floorboards and Harry walked out from the back room. His eyes caught sight of Y/N and his frown immediately turned into a smile. He held his arms out for her and she quickly walked into his embrace. "Hi flower," He murmured into her hair. 
"I came to drop off your package," She held out the box to him when he let her out of his arms.
"Oh," He took the package from her, "That's all?"
She bit back a smile, "Mmm, I may have something very important to tell you," She gave him a not-so-subtle wink.
He grinned, almost wickedly, "Well, do follow me this way to tell me this very important thing," He led her way from the waiting area and somewhere closed off and hidden from everywhere else. 
When they were alone, he grabbed her hips and hoisted her up onto a countertop, knocking things over. "Harry," She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. 
"Shhh no more talking baby," He said before kissing her lips that he spent all night dreaming about. Their mouths were wet and hot against each other as they made out in a closet hidden away from Harry's customers.
His hands slid down her back and around her waist, pinching her hips, "Did you wear this dress f' me baby?" He murmured, the tone of his voice sending shivers up Y/N's spine. 
"Wanted to be pretty for you." She told him. She had spent all morning trying to find a nice outfit to wear, not only for work but for when she saw Harry too.
"Fuck," He groaned against her lips, "Where have you been all my life?" 
Y/N felt like a teenage girl getting all flustered and hot over a boy. She'd never experienced being with someone in this way before and now she had a taste for it and couldn't get enough of him. She had left Harry's apartment yesterday in a daze and she felt like she was still floating from the high of her first kiss. 
He stood in between her legs and she subconsciously rolled her hips against him. She gasped in both shock and at the feeling of him against her, "You're okay baby," He soothed her, sensing her confusion.
"Feels good huh?" He pulled her hips into him again and she felt a moan bubble in her throat. "Have you ever touched yourself Y/N?" He wondered. 
She froze, "N-no," She confessed, embarrassed. 
"Nothing to be ashamed of baby," He comforts her, his words soothing the insecure part of her. He kissed her lips softly, "Can I visit you this evening?"
She nods without even thinking about it, "Please," 
He smirks, "Please baby? Please? What are you asking for?"
She didn't know, her mind was foggy and all she could see was him, "Everything." 
His eyes darkened but his smirk never left, "'M polite little flower."
"Harry," She whined, burying her face in his neck. 
Harry laughed and cupped the back of her with his hand, kissing her forehead, "I'll come visit tonight and you better be wearing those cute pyjamas," He knew she was smiling because he could feel her lips against his neck. 
That evening after Y/N had closed the shop, she ran upstairs to her apartment and kicked off her heels. She ran around her living room, hiding things she didn't want Harry to see and flinging dirty laundry into the washing basket. 
She walked into her very pink bedroom and pulled out her pyjamas, happy to finally be wearing something comfortable. She spritzed some of her favourite perfume and rubbed vanilla lotion into her skin. 
Y/N sat on her sofa with Marshel seated by her feet on the carpeted floor. She switched on the TV and watched a few episodes of friends whilst continuing to finish her knitting project - she was making a blanket since one of the ladies from her group was pregnant and would be giving birth very soon. 
She fought to keep her eyes open as she waited for Harry to knock on her door. His shop was meant to have closed twenty minutes ago so she assumed he'd be here by now. 
Slowly, an hour had gone by and Y/N was getting worried. Her mind spun with insecurities and a sudden fear that something might have happened to Harry. She placed her knitting project on her coffee table and patted Marshel on the head. She walked to the door and slid her sock covered feet into her brown UGG boots. 
The shop was not its usual LED red colour when she came to stand in front of the window, instead it was neon blue. Y/N frowned when she heard music playing from inside and checked to see whether the door was open.
Her hand pushed the door handle, the door swinging open and the muffled music suddenly became coherent. She could hear voices coming from the back room where Harry tattooed his customers.
Walking towards the sound, Y/N eventually caught the sound of Harry's voice amongst the group of people chatting. Her shoulders relaxed at the thought of him being here, at least she knew she'd be okay if he was there with her. 
Turning the corner, her eyes landed on Harry with two other tattooed men, smoking something that - in Y/N's opinion - smelt a little strange. 
Harry must have sensed her presence as he turned his head and caught sight of her hiding behind the corner wall. He smiled, "Hey flower," 
"Hi," She murmured, feeling embarassed. 
"C'mere," He held out his arm for her and she scurried towards him, attaching herself to him by snuggling her body into his side. He put an arm around her, kissing her forehead. "I thought I was meeting you upstairs?"
Y/N frowned, "You took too long,"
He smirked, "M impatient girl," He nodded towards the two men he was talking to, "Y/N, these are 'm friends, Mike and Dan."
"Mike supplier," Y/N whispered, finally putting a face to the name of the man she had spoken to on Harry's phone.
He was tall and bald with a beard and looked to be in his forties. Like Harry, he also had tattoos but not nearly as much. Beside him was Dan who looked closer in age to Harry, maybe a little older. He was blonde but wore a cap on his head and a silver chain around his neck. 
After Harry had finished smoking with his friends, he said his goodbyes and led Y/N upstairs back to her apartment. "What were you smoking? It smelt funny," Y/N asked,"
Harry fell back onto the couch and pulled her down with him. She lay on top of him, the smell of the smoke still lingering on his clothes. "'S just a bit of weed." He confessed.
Y/N gasped, "Weed? Is that legal?" 
Harry looked at her amused, "Not here but it doesn't do much harm to me, been smoking it for ages." He twirled a piece of hair around his finger, "Does that bother you?"
She thought about it but the idea didn't really seem to phase her. As long as he was being safe and was using it in a healthy sort of way, she didn't mind. "N-no, not at all." Harry's smile widened into a grin. He didn't hesitate to kiss her, feeling her soft lips which had recently become his new obsession. They were so soft and red and kissable and made just for him. 
Y/N didn't want him to stop kissing her whenever he did. She loved the feeling of her eyes fluttering shut and all of her senses just filling up with him. Harry pulled away, still cupping her cheek in his hand. Y/N's chest heaved up and down against him as she tried to catch her breath, "Breathe, flower." His heart ached when she looked up at him with swollen red lips, trying to catch her breath. "Lose your breath a little bit huh?"
"A little," She huffed. 
"You're too cute." 
Y/N kissed him again once she had caught enough air again. Harry sat up, pulling on the roots of her hair as her legs wrapped around him so she was straddling him. She whimpered, tugging on the fabric of his t-shirt.
"What do you want baby?" Harry mumbles against her parted lips. 
"Take it off," She whispers, pulling on his shirt. 
Harry does as he's told, pulling his shirt up over his head and revealing his muscular, tattoed torso. Y/N's eyes widened. She'd never seen something so beautiful, he looked as though he was one of those marble statues in a museum. "Eyes on me baby," Harry smiled, pushing her chin up with his finger so her eyes were looking directly into his. "What now?"
"I-I-I don't know," She blushed, losing her confidence now that they were no longer kissing. 
"We don't have to do anything you don't want." He looked at her with a soft gaze.
"I-I don't want to disappoint you." She admits, her insecurities coming to the surface. 
"Couldn't disappoint me baby, ever." She smiles, feeling secure in his words and his hold. Y/N leans forward and rubs her cheek against his chest. Harry's hands go beneath the tank top of her pyjamas, brushing her bare back. "If it helps I've never done this before."
She's shocked but she tries to hide it, "W-what do you mean?"
"Been intimate with someone." 
She smiled. 
She really, really liked him.
. . .
For weeks after, Y/N was obsessed with two things. 
Her flower shop and her tattooed boyfriend next door.
When she wasn't working, she was with Harry, either cooking in his apartment or cuddling together on the couch in her living room. Harry had also developed a new taste for basket weaving, joining in on Y/N's Sunday classes with the elderly ladies in the morning. 
In the short time they had known each other, Y/N had come to learn that Harry wasn't a morning person but he never missed a Sunday class even when he was exhausted from the busy day before at the tattoo shop. He would stumble downstairs with dishevelled hair and sleepy eyes in sweatpants and a hoodie, sitting in his seat between Mildred and Julia as they fussed over him. 
Y/N had also grown a love for kissing Harry at every opportunity. She'd take many five-minute breaks, walking over to the tattoo shop and kissing Harry in the cupboard or visiting him in the alleyway behind the building where they'd make out against the brick wall. Even Harry had an addiction to his girlfriend's very kissable lips, sneaking out of his shop in between appointments to smother her in kisses in the storage cupboard. 
"Hey Marshy little fur ball," Y/N bit back a grin when she heard the door of her apartment open and the familiar gruff voice speak to her little cat. 
She swung her legs over her bed and paused the movie she was watching, running to the front door and leaping into his arms, "Hi flower," Harry murmured, inhaling the scent of her coconut shampoo. 
Y/N nuzzled her face against his jumper and squeezed him tightly, "Hi Harry," She sighed, blissfully.
"Wanted to come see ya, hope tha's okay." He kissed her quickly. 
"Course, I was watching a film in my room." She tugged on his hand and lead him to her bedroom. 
Harry had spent nights in Y/N's room before. Sometimes he would ask her if it was okay if he took a nap in her bed whenever he finished work early because it was much comfier than his. She'd find him curled up under her blankets, hugging one of her stuffed animals to his chest with the hood of his sweatshirt over his head.
Harry removes his sweatshirt, leaving him in only sweatpants, before he crawls into bed and pats the spot beside him. Y/N turns on the movie but knows that neither of them has any plans of watching it. 
With the amount of kissing they had been doing, Y/N hoped she had gotten a lot better. She realised Harry would often make small, quiet noises whenever she did something he liked, like tugging on his hair or sticking her tongue in his mouth. 
It wasn't long before they were making out again on her bed. Her leg hooked around his hip and her hands in his hair as he gripped her waist, every now and then he would squeeze her ass remembering the first time he did it and how much she loved it from the soft moans that left her. 
Y/N thought that kissing Harry was the best thing in the entire world but what she didn't know was that Harry had plenty more up his sleeve. 
His hand slid from her waist and down to her bare thigh - she was only wearing pyjama shorts since her apartment was pretty warm. He squeezed her softly, "Can I feel you baby?" He asked.
Y/N froze, not sure how to react. "I-I-"
Harry cupped her cheek, "I know," He already knew what she was thinking before she even said anything, "We can carry on doing what we're doing if you prefer. It's no rush." 
"N-no," She grabbed his wrist in both her hands. Y/N was a virgin but she wasn't afraid... Just inexperienced and that made her a little wary. But with Harry, she knew she wanted to allow that part of herself to him. Maybe not the whole thing but a little something. 
"Y-you can feel me... I-if you like." She said, awkwardly. 
Harry chuckles, "What about if you like, hmm?" His fingertip traced circles on her thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps. 
"I-I would l-like that p-please." She whispered.
Harry grinned, "Only because you're so polite sweet girl."
Harry's arm slides between her legs and hooks his fingers around her pyjamas bottoms to pull them down her legs. Y/N inwardly praised herself for shaving the night before yet she was pretty sure Harry wouldn't mind either way. Harry tuts when he sees her underwear, "Did m' little flower get all wet from kissing on daddy?" 
She felt the air leave the room and her body heat at the nickname. It was so dirty and yet she felt herself aching from his words. "Y-yes," She breathes. 
"Yes what baby?" He kisses up her thigh. 
"Yes daddy," She murmurs. 
Harry eyes darken as he looks down between her thighs, "My good, polite girl." He pinches the flesh on her thigh and she feels her chest heave.  Y/N gasps for air when his fingers trace the fabric of her underwear and her heart races even more when he moves her underwear to the side to see a part of herself no one had ever seen before.
"Fuck me," He whispers under his breath. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen." 
"R-really?" Y/N blushes, her cheeks hot.
"Don't think I've ever seen something so pretty." 
"T-thank you, daddy." She whispers the last part but it doesn't stop the bulge from growing in Harry's sweatpants. 
"Have you always been this needy when we kiss baby?" Harry murmured in her ear as his fingers part her pussy. He tries to stop himself from groaning at the slick wetness that coats his fingers.
Y/N gasps at the new feeling but is immediately overcome by pleasure as Harry begins to move his finger back up to her clit, "Harry," She whimpers. 
Harry's quick to pull his hand away, "Nuh uh baby, that's not my name."
Y/N's head was all dizzy but she managed to reply, "Daddy, please," She whines.
"Barely even touched you and you're already whining," He tuts before rubbing his thumb over her clit and making small, slow circles. Y/N whimpers at the new sensation of intense pleasure. "Does that feel good flower?" He asks, nipping her ear as he murmurs against it. 
"S-so good- so good daddy, so, so good." She babbles as he continues to tease her clit with his thumb. 
"Who'd have thought I had such a naughty girl hmm?" She arches into his touch as he moves his finger in a certain way. She wonders how she managed to go on for so long without feeling something so blissfully delightful. 
"Put your hand here baby," Harry instructs, reaching for her hand that wasn't currently scrunching the duvet, and placing it flat over the top of his, "Let me show you how to touch yourself. Watch daddy," Y/N's eyes look down to see his gold ring-clad fingers drenched in her wetness, his tattooed hand moving in circles as her rubs her clit. "This is how I want you to touch yourself when you think of me baby and when you're good, I'll make your perfect, little hole feel good too." Y/N gasps and clenches when he brushes a finger against her hole. 
"I-I'm good-Please, I'm good," She mewls and her hand grips his wrist instead. She uses it as leverage to twist and turn into him, the pleasure overwhelmingly good she can't help but hide her face in his neck. 
"You are good," He kisses her forehead, "My good girl." She nods at his praise, eyes shut. 
Harry forces her legs a part and continues to pleasure her in a way she didn't know about until today. She writhes and moans beneath his touch as he whispers dirty things into her ear. "I want you to cum baby, think you can do that?" 
"Mhm," She sighs, already feeling the bubble of pressure in her tummy. "F-feels - feel's s-so-" 
"Feel good m'love?" He coos, "Cum f' me. Cum f' daddy, wanna see you soak my hand." 
At his words, Y/N whimpers as she becomes increasingly sensitive the more he circles her clit. Harry feels as though he's about to explode as he watches her cheeks flush pink and she grinds her pussy against his hand as she rides out her orgasm. "That's it my little flower, so good." He praises her, feeling her shudder as she finishes coming down from her high.
She's panting heavily as Harry slides her panties back into place. "You okay?" Harry checks, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Y/N nods and instantly feels embarrassed, hiding herself in the crook of his neck. Harry chuckles, "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen."
"You're lying," Y/N says, her voice muffled against him.
"Never gonna lie to you flower, never." He promises. 
Y/N removes herself from her hiding place and looks up at him. Harry's heart bursts in his chest when she sees her sleepy, blissful gaze. He wonders where this girl has been all his life and how he managed to go this long without her. He was pretty sure he was falling in love with her but that was a conversation for another day.
"W-what about you?" Y/N looks down and sees the very noticeable bulge in his trousers. 
Harry shakes his head, "Not today," He smiles, "We have plenty of time to experiment some more but think you've had enough experimenting for one night."
"Me too," Y/N curls into his side, not bothering to put her pyjama bottoms back on. "Having sex is exhausting." 
"We didn't even have sex, silly girl." Harry laughs.
"Felt like it," She mumbles against him.
"I'm that good huh?" He grins, cheekily, "Just you wait baby,"
"The best," She slurs, yawning, "M so tired." 
"Yeah? You sleepy baby?" He kisses her forehead. "Get some sleep m'love," He wraps an arm around her and tucks her into his chest. 
"I like you very much Harry," She whispers, sleepily. 
"I like you very much too." Harry replies, holding her close.
psa don't let strangers into your room... actually don't let anyone into your room
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purplehammy · 1 year
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Harry Styles wins Artist of the Year | The BRIT Awards 2023
He gave the speech he wished he gave at the Grammys haha. But it just proves that he really wasn’t expecting the Grammys win.
But all that backlash made him come prepared and basically explain what he meant last time by “things like this don’t happen to people like me” - which btw is a line he has said over and over again at his concerts (at MSG at least). He had to link it back to his humble beginnings and even literally say “I am aware of my privilege up here tonight” AS IF he ever meant to say he was unprivileged based on his skin color or circumstances. like bffr not harry. he has done a handful of questionable and tone deaf things but that grammys speech wasn’t one of them.
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cupid-styles · 24 days
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daisy 2 (english profrry x quiet TA!yn)
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she's alive and I hope you like it 🩷 I think there will be a short epilogue wrapping everything up after this :)
part one
word count: 7.9k
content warnings: a bit of angst (nothing too crazy), smut (f receiving oral, penetration, size kink/belly bulge, dirty talk, a tiny bit of cum play), and — as stated in the first part — massive, big fat warning for an inappropriate power imbalance.
main masterlist | talk to me
. . .
Y/N had tried to talk herself out of it. Several times, actually. For hours. 
But at a certain point, she realized all she was doing was driving herself insane with a nonstop, hamster wheel of thinking. She couldn’t stop replaying the conversation with Professor Styles — or Harry, rather, as he’d said earlier — over and over, nitpicking at every tiny detail. She wished she had someone to go to — an unbiased, neutral third party who wouldn’t tell her what she wanted to hear, but she doubted that even if she did have that, they’d think her analysis of their discussion would be appropriate.
Because she had a huge, obvious, stupid crush on her professor. 
Well, he wasn’t technically her professor. She was just the professor she was… assisting, and that technicality is the only thing that gave her enough courage to bundle up beneath layers of thermal wear and her forest green puffer jacket, hiking through the chilly winter evening to see if, by some miracle, Harry was still in his office. 
On the way there, she spoke to herself sternly. She needed to have a goal in mind — an intention, really, of what exactly she was going there for. It wasn’t a normal thing to go see a professor in his office on a Monday at 6:40 pm.
It wasn’t normal to think about his grumpy face and even crankier demeanor; the way his lips pursed thoughtfully around wordy responses about a student’s answer to an essay question, or his long, calloused fingers that wrapped around the same gel ink pens he always used for grading.
It wasn’t normal for her to fall asleep imagining herself pressing her own plush lips to the same ones that nearly begged for an apology just a few hours ago.
And it certainly wasn’t normal for her professor to admit that he’d spent the weekend thinking of her, either.
The English building stays unlocked until around 9 pm on weekdays, just in case professors end up hauling their grading into late nights or students have group projects. She hurries through the wooden doors as soon as she arrives, hurriedly yanking her mittens off and stuffing them in her coat pockets as she walks the familiar journey down to Harry’s office. She’s unsurprised that most of the offices and classrooms have already gone dim, but the closer she gets to Harry’s, the sooner she realizes that his is the exception. With the bleak, yellowed light from the lamp she’d picked out a few weeks back, she sees a faint luminance from his office’s frosted window. Swallowing, she decides against her better judgment before waltzing in like she owns the place, and instead opts for a hesitant knock, punctuating it with a call of his name. 
“Profess— Harry? Are you in there?” she nibbles on her lip before tacking on a, "It's Y/N."
She hopes he recognizes her voice as she wrings her fingers together in front of her. She thinks she hears muffled movement on the other side of the door, but she’s not entirely sure. It never occurred to her that perhaps he wouldn’t want to see her — maybe he’d peek through the crack of the door, see her face, and widen his own eyes in shock and embarrassment, maintaining silence until she eventually gave up and walked away. Her throat bobs nervously at the imagery. 
She’s ready to give up when the door swings open, revealing a rather flushed looking version of the typically neat, well-kept professor she’s used to seeing. His cheeks don a splotchy pink hue that speckles down to his neck, where his usual button down is currently undone. Underneath, he wears a plain white tee-shirt. She blinks at the small display of intimacy before snapping her eyes back up to his face. He’s running his finger through his messy curls, tugging lightly at the base of the locks.
“Is everything alright?” he asks through a slightly nervous voice. With furrowed eyebrows, she nods her head slowly.
“Yes— well, no, I guess. I feel bad about earlier.”
She chokes the words out in hopes that she can keep her humiliation at bay. She’s unsure if her eyes deceive her, but it seems as though his face relaxes some before he quickly nods, stepping aside to let her in. 
“Um, you have nothing to feel bad about,” he says, shutting the door quietly behind her. She shrugs her shoulders as she stands in the middle of his small office, avoiding his gaze. “I was out of line, Y/N.”
“What did you mean by it?” she rushes out, facing him with a leery expression. “That you spent the weekend thinking of me. And feeling awful about how you’ve treated me.”
His mouth opens and closes, and she can’t help the way she glances down at his raspberry-hued lips. She swallows tightly, biting on her own bottom lip.
“This isn’t something we can do,” he mumbles out breathily with a shake of his head. “You know that, right?”
They’re dancing around the obvious. Her stomach lurches at the low, groveled volume of his voice, and her fingers twitch at her sides as she resists the urge to step closer to him. She’s never been forward with a romantic interest before — she’s never had a reason to be, to uphold a certain level of confidence. 
But she can’t help herself. 
“Tell me, then. Tell me what you thought of this weekend.”
Harry’s nostrils flare. 
“If it’s not something we can do,” Y/N says softly, licking over her lips, “Then whatever you thought about should be nothing, right?”
He’s torn. He’s so utterly torn that it feels like his brain is being split in half. He knows what he should do — he should tell her she’s wrong and that she should leave. He should leave this entire situation behind him, chalk it up to him being a touch-deprived idiot, and move on with his life. Join a few dating apps and find someone decent to settle down with. 
But why would he do what he’s supposed to do?
“I thought about how fucking shitty I felt for ignoring you for weeks after you told me you just wanted my praise,” Harry blurts, heart hammering in his chest as he slowly starts to close the gap between their bodies. “I thought about how much I like having you around — how smart and talented you are, how beautiful and creative your brain is.”
“I’m not—”
“I’m not finished,” he replies curtly, making Y/N’s eyebrows shoot up to her forehead. “I thought about how pretty you are. I thought about how I’m thankful to have you as my assistant, because no one has ever been able to meet me on the same level. I thought about… how I’d be taking advantage of you if I told you any of those things, so I promised that I’d keep them to myself.”
He’s standing directly before her now. He’s so close that she can smell the warm musk of his cologne and see the freckles dotted over his nose. It makes her stomach churn in the best way. 
“Why didn’t you?” she finally breathes out. 
A smirk forms at the edges of his lips. He looks down at her as if he wants to swallow her whole, and she’s not sure that she doesn’t want him to. 
“You asked me to tell you, sweetheart,” he murmurs. He reaches out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and her skin zips with electricity. “‘S not much of my fault now, is it?”
Quickly, she shakes her head. She swallows nervously and hopes he doesn’t notice her picking at her nails as she waits for him to surge forward and press a messy kiss to her lips. 
But instead, he stops. 
A look of clarity ghosts over his face and his throat bobs. It doesn’t stop him from thumbing over her chin with sorrowed eyes. 
“We’ll wait until the end of the semester,” he murmurs out. The look of disappointment on Y/N’s face must be obvious because his eyebrows furrow in dejection. “It’s the safest way, okay? After that… after that, I’m yours.”
I’m yours. It echoes through her brain, making her heart thump rapidly in her chest. She feels it everywhere, but the hesitancy remains. 
“Promise me,” she whispers, pressing a wary hand to the expanse of his chest. “Promise me I’m not wasting my time. Promise me that you mean this.”
He can’t help it — before he can even contemplate the consequences, he ducks down to connect their lips. It takes her by surprise but she immediately kisses him back, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck to pull him closer.
Despite the reluctant context, the physical bond is anything but. Harry kisses her unhurriedly, like he has years to worship every bit of her lips. He dips his tongue into her mouth the second she grants him the opportunity, and her chest feels like it’s ready to explode when he squeezes her hip. His large palm easily finds its way to her ass and she whimpers breathily into the seal of his mouth. It’s the only thing that brings him back down to earth — a reminder that he’s no longer daydreaming but experiencing the real thing. He forces himself to break the kiss but leans his forehead against hers, keeping his eyes shuttered closed.
“I promise you,” he exhales, and he feels her nod. “I’m yours.”
. . .
Attempting to act normal around Harry is harder than Y/N had anticipated. 
In hindsight, the evening consisted of a half-assed confession and a rather… intimate kiss that nearly knocked her off her feet. If it had been with anyone else — someone her age, a fellow student or peer, maybe — she, of course, would be anxious over it. But the fact that she had to see him a day later in class was… well, somehow embarrassing. 
She contemplates her outfit for hours, wanting to seem cute and put-together without overly desperate. She was scared it would be written all over her face the second she walked in and sat at her seat beside his podium — "I made out with Professor Styles in his office a day and a half ago and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it for more than two seconds since it happened" may as well have been written across her forehead. 
When she finally does show up to class, Harry looks… well, he looks like his usual self. He’s wearing those wide-legged trousers that she thinks he must have in at least a dozen colors, matched with a button down and a sweater vest overtop. He’s standing at the podium with his back to the entrance as he waits for students to filter in, squeezing his bottom lip between his fingers. He’s reading something, Y/N’s unsure what it is, but when he hears the less than graceful clatter of her setting her things down at the table, he glances over to her and flashes her a smile. 
A smile.
“Hey,” he greets. His voice is low and gruff and if she hadn’t been looking for it, she surely would’ve missed it. But she doesn’t, and it instead sends a zap of lovesick energy thrumming through her body. 
“Hi.” she mumbles back, waving as she leans over to pull her laptop from her bag. 
That’s the extent of the interaction, but it’s far more than she’s ever received from him. Normally, when she arrives at class, he fully ignores her. She only began to take issue with it when she figured out she was growing feelings for him, but somehow the quiet utterance of hey feels like a public acknowledgement of what occurred just a day prior. In some crazy way, it seems like it’s just as open as grabbing her and smacking a hard kiss to her lips. She finds herself wishing he would as he begins today’s lecture on male writers in feminist discourse.
As written on the schedule, Harry’s taking the time to discuss authors like George Herbert, John Berryman, and Leo Tolstoy. Y/N doesn’t feel particularly drawn to any of those figures, though a few weeks back when she and Harry were discussing this unit, they did find a mutual appreciation for Jacques Lacan. He wasn’t originally in the lesson plan — Y/N remembers it vividly, because she can recall saying that he would be a great fit. Her heart had expanded in her chest with praise when Harry agreed. 
And yet… Harry’s standing up there in front of the lecture hall, waxing poetic in the dreamiest way possible, about Jacques Lacan.
“Lacan was incredibly controversial, so I don’t expect all of us to feel comfortable with translating his viewpoints to modern day psychology,” Harry explains as he hovers over the old, wooden podium, “But what I do want to dig into is his basic idea of the symbolic register. Does anyone know what that is?”
Yes, Y/N wants to say. It’s the concept that our existence as humans includes language, culture, and rituals. 
“Lacan came up with this idea that he thought was waiting for us the second we were born. He felt that the symbolic register encompassed maybe more artsy, culture-based facets, and that was one of the most important parts of the human existence. We won’t get too far into it because this isn’t a psychology course, and frankly, I could give a shit if you truly understand this or not.” The class, including Y/N, laughs quietly. Harry rolls his lips into a thin line to avoid a smirk from appearing.
When the huffed merriment tapers off, he continues. “What I want you to take away as writers is this: Lacan’s symbolic register essentially implies that our lives, from the very start, are swamped with uncertainty. There’s no path for us. As you write your characters, consider that. Lacan thought that life experiences, specifically lack and desire, were what impacted the course we go on.”
As expected, the class is silent. Y/N’s found that students are typically too nervous or intimidated to contribute to conversations during Harry’s lectures, and she’s been on the receiving end of many, many emails asking things that could have been resolved in class.
“Think about what your characters lack. What are they missing? What are they unable to receive access to? Is it a resistance to pleasure, to giving in?”
Y/N swallows harshly at that. She pretends like she doesn’t hear it, instead focusing in on typing a response to an email in her inbox. 
“And then, consider their desires. Their deepest, darkest wants. No one has to know them — in real life, no one truly knows our truest desires, anyway,” she swears her eyes squeeze closed at that, but she quickly snaps them open, “But use it as an exercise for this weekend. Don’t forget, second drafts are due on Monday. Class is dismissed.”
Y/N swear she feels a second heartbeat in her core as the lecture hall begins to trickle out with students.
. . . 
“I thought we were waiting until the semester is over.” Y/N blurts it out when she can’t focus on grading Ren Wei's draft. 
Slowly, Harry glances up from the stack of papers he’s currently grading. With confused eyebrows, he sets his pen down. 
“We are,” he says softly. 
“Then what were you talking about in class today?” She hisses lowly. She keeps her voice quiet even though the door to Harry’s office is shut closed. 
“What do you mean?”
Y/N sighs frustratedly and sits back in her seat. She avoids Harry’s confused gaze as she crosses her arms over her chest. He ignores the way it pushes her breasts up through the soft fabric of her sweater. 
“The whole lack and desire thing. You know you weren’t planning on talking about Lacan until I brought him up a few weeks ago.”
Harry’s throat bobs and she licks over her lips, quickly glancing back up to his face. She’s right — they both know she’s right, but Harry’s reluctant to admit it. He’s stubborn — he’s always been this way in relationships, and it tends to be one of his greater downfalls as a partner. Deep in the pit of his heart, he knows Y/N deserves better. She wouldn’t be worth putting his job or her status as a student in danger if she wasn’t.
“You’re right,” he finally admits as he nibbles on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry. It was out of line and I won’t do that anymore.”
She pauses for a beat. And then, “I thought maybe you changed your mind.”
His shoulders deflate and she suddenly feels embarrassed. It was a stupid thing to reveal, she decides, and she picks at the skin surrounding her fingernails as she mentally beats herself up for it. 
And for a moment, Harry contemplates it. He knows it hasn’t been that long since he told her they have to wait, but he’d be a ridiculous liar if he didn’t admit that she’s all he’s been thinking about ever since they kissed in his office. Nervously, he reaches across the length of his wooden desk and takes her hand into his. He intertwines their fingers together and gives her hand a small, reassuring squeeze, and she looks up at him through her eyelashes. It makes his heart warm.
“You know this is incredibly difficult for me, right?” he asks. Y/N shakes her head and he scoffs in response. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N.”
She blushes. “I can’t stop thinking about you either.”
“Yeah?” he chuckles, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. She nods. “When we kissed, it… it was so good, y’know? It just… it felt good.”
“I know,” she breathes. She squeezes his fingers lightly before retracting her own hand and placing it in her lap. She may look naive, but she's already decided that she won't let him have the upper hand – not when it comes to something she can actually have control over, like teasing.
The movement surprises him but he chooses not to acknowledge it. “But this is what we decided on, right? It’s better this way. It’s kind of like edging, hm?” 
His eyes nearly bulge out of his skull as she glances down at her phone to look at the time. 
“Anyway, I have to head out to class. Text me if you need anything, Professor Styles.”
She waltzes out of his office with a snarky, knowing grin on her lips, and Harry has to do a series of deep breathing to stop his cock from exploding in his trousers. 
. . .
Y/N Y/L/N is a complete and utter minx. 
Harry has no choice but to come to this conclusion because in the weeks that follow their agreement, he swears she does everything she can to try and make him break. The worst part is, he doesn’t even know if she’s doing it intentionally. But every time they’re in the same room, all he can think about is hauling her over his shoulder, locking her in his office, and stretching her body over the length of his desk so he can fuck her until she can’t even think straight.
And there’s still three months left of the semester.
Admittedly, nothing ever really happens between them. Despite the apparent and blatant flirting that occurs on both sides, they keep things surprisingly professional, even behind closed doors. For the first time in his teaching career, Harry is actually ahead of grading. For some reason, he feels as though it’s a testament to how well he and Y/N actually work together.
But then there’s the matter of her teasing, which drives him up a fucking wall — the cute little mini skirts she almost always wears, the batting of her eyelashes at students in his class, followed by the wide-eyed smile she flashes Harry as soon as she knows he’s seen it. She even out-smarted him on Ursula LeGuin the other day and, as dorky as it seems, Harry doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on in his life.
It’s a series of back-and-forth. When Y/N has to leave his office for class, he’ll thumb at her chin or her cheeks so she gets all flustered before she heads out. Later that night, she’ll text him an innocent question with some sort of “typo”:
can’t stop thinking about your lips
oops! list* not lips! your list of grades — it’s due next friday, right??
It’s a stupid, risky game that neither of them can stop playing.
Even when they’re sitting in Harry’s office that Wednesday afternoon, buried beneath piles of final drafts for the midterm paper, he can’t help but gnaw on his bottom lip as she sits across from him. She’s focused — the cute furrow between her brows is the primary tell — but every now and then she’ll bring her pen up to her mouth to bite on it or poke her tongue out to lick over her lips.
Despite the chill of the day, she’s wearing a wool mini skirt atop sheer black tights, and he hasn’t been able to stop glancing down at the soft skin of her thighs since she showed up to campus hours ago. He wants nothing more than to rip a hole in the fabric, pull her into his lap, and kiss her until she’s a whimpering, breathless mess. 
He’s so distracted that he doesn’t even notice the clock is steadily ticking towards 5 pm and, technically, Y/N should’ve left an hour ago. With wide eyes, he drops his pen on the pile of papers in front of him. 
“Shit,” he curses, “You should go. Your hours ended at 4.”
She taps her phone screen beside her, “Oh. I didn’t realize it was so late. I guess I got in the groove with grading.” 
“It happens.” He says understandingly as he leans back against his chair, stretching his achy back out some. “I’ll see you on Monday, then?”
She peers up at him through her lashes. “It’s 5 pm on a Friday, Harry. You should leave, too.”
He runs his tongue over his teeth. She’s right, especially since he’s been attempting to distract himself from his crush on Y/N by doing late grading sessions in his office. 
“Yeah, you’re right,” he mumbles as he grabs his large tote bag. “I’ll walk you out, if that’s okay.”
They both know that it’s perhaps a cross of the boundary they’ve been trying to firmly maintain, but how harmful could a walk be? 
Y/N flashes him a small smile. Silently, they each pack their things up, and she follows him out of this office as he locks his door. They walk side-by-side, Y/N nibbling on her bottom lip as Harry tries to resist the urge to grab the hand that he keeps accidentally brushing with his own knuckles. 
“Do you have any weekend plans?” She suddenly asks softly, glancing up at the taller male. 
He hums, “Nothing too exciting. Probably just gonna catch up on TV and reading. You?”
“The secret life of an English professor, hm?” Y/N teases and he chuckles. “I have to start prepping for midterms. Laundry, too. I guess nothing more fun than your plans.” 
He laughs and her stomach erupts into flutters as he holds the front door for her. She smiles in gratitude, but her steps come to a stop when she witnesses the state of the weather. 
It’s nearly a white out. A snowstorm must have barreled through while they were busy grading, because now it’s dark, flurries of snow instantly landing on Y/N’s eyelashes and jacket. 
“Y/N,” Harry appears at her side, “You’re not planning on walking through this, are you?”
“I-I don’t have a car.” She mumbles, stuffing her already freezing cold hands into her pockets. “I’ll be fine, it’s not far.”
“No, but I wouldn’t feel okay with sending you home in this,” he replies. She blinks when she feels his hand reach out to her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “Would you let me drive you home, please? Just so I know you get home safely.”
Her stomach turns. This would officially cross the student/teacher boundary, but he’s right — it’s frigid out, and she always hates walking home in the dark anyway. Swallowing tightly, she nods. 
“Yeah, please. I’ll take a ride.”
“Good,” he exhales with a nod, “My car’s just over in the faculty lot.” 
With the both of them slowly shuffling through the snowy ground, they eventually make it to Harry’s car. As expected, it’s covered in snow, but he turns it on and blasts the heat so she can sit inside while he uses a brush to clear it off. She picks at her fingernails as she watches him through the foggy front window, her chest continuing to grow with nerves. She knows that this is all she’s wanted for weeks — to be alone with Harry, outside of the confines of his office — so why is she so scared? 
Luckily, he gets in the car before she has more time to contemplate it. Blowing warm air into his cupped hands, he shivers dramatically. 
“Fuck, it’s cold,” he whines, making her giggle. “Something funny about that, passenger princess?” 
“No!” She exclaims with a laugh, “I’m sorry I didn’t help clear your car off. I’m sure that was awful.”
His eyes crinkle teasingly as he chuckles along with her. As he backs up out of the parking spot with ease, he presses the palm of his hand to the back of Y/N’s headrest, checking to make sure he’s clear. She wonders if he’s used to driving in the snow, but lets the question die in her throat instead of pushing the conversation. 
“Sorry, I didn’t ask where you live,” he says when he turns onto the main road. “I think you mentioned once that you’re not too far from campus?”
She nods. “Yeah, I’m on Maple. It’s a single-person house, I’ll tell you where to turn.”
“You live alone?”
She doesn’t think the question is meant to be inherently suggestive, but there’s something about his immediate response that has her teetering on feeling that way. Swallowing, she nods again.
“Mhm. Most of my friends graduated or moved away when we finished undergrad, so it’s just me.”
“No pets or anything? You seem like the type to own one of those bald cats.”
Y/N balks at his reply, a peel of laughter bubbling from her chest. “What?”
Harry’s cheeks warm as he slowly drives down the snow-covered street. He doesn’t know how to tell her that he thinks about what kind of person she is when she’s not around — he knows it probably sounds creepy, but it’s how he’s been entertaining himself in the meantime. 
“I just… feel like you’d like those things,” he treads lightly, shrugging his shoulders, “Is my assumption wrong?”
“Very much so. I’ve only had dogs,” she giggles, “Are there any other assumptions I should know about?”
His throat bobs. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” she quirks a brow. “Turn at the light.”
He flicks his right signal on, “I may have tried to figure you out a bit in my… spare time.”
He cringes, but the sound of her laughter quickly pulls him from his embarrassment. 
“Well now I have to know.”
“Fine,” he decides, finding himself drawn to her little game, “I think you prefer matcha or hot chocolate over coffee.”
“True, but that’s only because you watch me cringe every time you drink your stupid black coffee.”
Harry snorts, “Okay, fair. I think you’re a homebody.”
“Mhmm,” Y/N nods. “True. Go on.”
“You prefer chocolate to vanilla.”
“Strawberry, actually.”
He hums. “You read period piece smut for fun.”
Y/N lets out a loud cackle. “What about my personality makes you think that?”
“You just seem like the type to go to the romance section at the bookstore, but only buy dirty books that are set in the 1800s,” he replies easily, a smirk edging at his lips, “Am I wrong?”
She ignores the way her cheeks flair with warmth. “I’m not opposed to it, but it’s not the only thing I read.”
“Sure,” he laughs. She rolls her eyes before pointing to a house down at the end of the road. 
“I’m right over there.” 
Harry nods and pulls up in front of it. The snow is only worse on the residential streets, likely because there haven’t been many cars going through to clear the roads. She nibbles on her lip as she unbuckles her seatbelt and turns to look at him. 
“Thank you for the ride.” she says softly. 
“Of course.”
They stare at each other for a beat before Y/N tears her gaze away from him. She glances out through the front window, watching momentarily as snowflakes continue to beat down on the exterior of his car. 
“It’s not safe,” she mumbles breathily, facing him again. “You shouldn’t drive in this.”
He swallows. He knows what he should say: No, it’s okay. I should go home. We said we’d wait, remember?
But he doesn’t want to. Not when she’s dangling alone time, off campus, right in front of his face. He can’t resist her — he doesn’t want to resist her.
“Can I come inside, then?”
. . .
Y/N’s house is everything Harry would have expected it to be. 
She has two huge bookshelves that are overflowing with worn novels, Post-It’s and folded-down pages sticking out of nearly every page. She has plants and candles, cuddly blankets thrown askew over her couch, and a sink filled with half-consumed cups of tea. There are framed pictures and Polaroids tacked up on her fridge of people Harry assumes are her friends and family. He smiles gently as he passes by an image of her wedged between two older people who have some of her same features. It’s all very her, which means it’s all entirely too comforting.
“Do you want something to drink?” Y/N asks, nibbling on her bottom lip as she glances up at the man before her. It’s an unusual sight; one that makes her feel like she has to blink a few times to ensure she isn’t dreaming. 
“Not unless you’re willing me to make my ‘stupid black coffee’, as you affectionately referred to it in the car.”
Y/N blushes, “I don’t have any coffee here, but I can make you tea. Or hot chocolate.”
“Tea is good, sweetheart.”
The flush only deepens at the pet name. He’s not sure where it comes from — maybe easing into a relationship-type dynamic is easier than he thought, especially considering he’s been pushing it down since their kiss. He watches as she turns to face the kitchen counter, occupying herself with turning the kettle on and retrieving two tea bags and mugs. He wants nothing more than to hug her from behind, pressing his fingertips into her hips to squeeze them teasingly. To dip his head to the crook of her neck and press kisses along her delicate skin. He swallows and adjusts his trousers, willing the thickening erection tucked underneath to go away.
“How do you want it?” she asks, glancing behind her to look at him.
He coughs. “Sorry? How do I want what?”
“Your tea,” Y/N replies slowly, a small smile on her lips, “How do you want your tea, Harry?”
“Oh— um, however you take it is fine.”
She nods and busies herself with filling the mugs up with the boiling water. Once she’s finished, she slowly hands him the steaming cup. He smiles in gratitude, allowing their fingers to brush against one another in the pass-off.
“By the way,” she says lowly, blinking at him, “You’re doing a shit job of hiding your boner.” 
Her eyes crinkle in a smirk as she lifts the mug to take a sip of the warm liquid. Harry’s cheeks instantly warm and he stutters over his words, attempting to force out an apology. She lets him scramble for a moment before reaching out to curl her fingers over his wrist with a smile. 
“I’m just teasing you. I hope you know I don’t care.”
He huffs, setting his cup down on the dining room table, “Yeah, but I’m the one who told you we have to wait. And now I’m standing in your kitchen, getting hard over you making me tea.”
She giggles. “I consider that a compliment, to be honest.”
“I’m sure you do,” he grumbles, “You make me feel like a doped up, lovesick teenager.”
“Really?”
“Of course,” he scoffs, “Everything you do does something to me. Even if you don’t mean it. It’s ridiculous.”
“What do you mean?”
He sends her a knowing look and she grins. 
“You know what I mean, Y/N.”
“You know I’m not good at reading between the lines, Harry.”
He sighs. “You turn me on. Even by doing the stupidest shit— knowing more about me in certain subjects, wearing those cute little skirts… it all drives me insane. I’ve been trying to keep it together, but I can’t.”
“Then don’t,” she replies almost instantly, placing her mug on the table next to his, “I don’t want to wait, Harry. I feel… I feel so stupidly desperate for you. And I want this— I want you.”
“I know, but—”
“But in any other context, if we didn’t meet this way, there wouldn’t be an issue,” she points out stubbornly, “If we had come back to mine after a date, we’d already be upstairs with our clothes off.”
He can’t help the way his cock jumps at her words and he mentally groans. He wants to yell into one of those cute throw pillows on her couch, or maybe lay face down on the fluffy carpet in her hallway. 
“Listen, I’m sorry if I’m crossing boundaries, we can just watch TV or something—”
“Stop,” he cuts her off with a shake of his head. “Can we just… Can I just kiss you again? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
Y/N blinks owlishly. Surprise is clear on her face, but it doesn’t stop her from nodding her head. As corny as it sounds — and Y/N knows it’s corny — it feels like magnets being pulled together. It’s not a moment longer before Harry’s palm is pressed gently against her cheek, his lips brushing up against hers. She’s nearly salivating at the thought of closing the gap between them and yet, at the same time, her brain is melting with lust. 
This kiss, unlike their first, is riddled with want. It’s hurried and sloppy, teeth clashing and tongues dipping into each other’s mouth. Harry’s hand slips from her cheek and down to the back of her neck, giving it a small, testing squeeze. She presses her chest impossibly closer to his, eyelashes flittering at the warmth radiating from the button-down he wears. She’s desperate to feel him, to eliminate any boundaries or distances between them — for the first time, she’s sick of playing games. 
“Upstairs,” she pants out through swollen lips. He takes her bottom lip between his teeth and pulls playfully, allowing it to snap back in place, “Take me upstairs, please.”
He swallows and her eyes find his Adam’s apple, nervousness settling in her chest. He gives her neck another squeeze. 
“Are you sure?” he breathes. She leans up to wrap her arms around his neck and presses a gentle kiss to his lips. 
“If you’ll have me, I’m yours, Harry.”
“You’ve always been mine,” he mutters with his forehead against hers, “Show me the way, sweetheart.”
She grabs his hand in hers and lightly tugs him out of the kitchen. If she’s being honest, she’s fantasized of this moment for months now. She was never sure of how it would happen (the logistics never mattered in her daydreams), but having him here, standing in her bedroom, feels like some kind of joke her mind conjured up. 
But when he lays her back against the mattress, elbows digging into the soft tufts of her bedding, it feels a little like a hazy fantasy. 
When he parts her thighs and kneels down between them, pressing a smattering of kisses along her neck as his hands push the fabric of her thick sweater up, her labored breathing is the only anchor she has in reality.
And when he finds himself between her thighs, tugging her black tights down to reveal a sodden pair of underwear, a hiss sounding out from her mouth when he bares her center to the cool air of her bedroom, things begin to feel very, very serious.
“Is this okay?” he asks huskily. He’s since moved down to kneeling on the carpet of her room, his large palms parting the insides of her thighs. Every single move he makes drives her insane. 
“Yes,” she breathes, fingers gripping the blanket beneath her. 
He’s less calculated now that he’s received her consent. She instantly mewls the second he puts his mouth over her, licking through the wet fabric of her underwear. Her eyes roll back just from the muffled sensation, especially when he allows a low moan to vibrate from his chest. 
“Need more,” he mutters against the soft skin of his thigh as he pulls the material to the side. He inhales sharply at the sight of how wet she is, his fingertip gently tracing over the tip of her swollen clit. “You were hiding all this from me for months.” 
He states it as if it’s a fact — like she’d been doing it intentionally, when all she’s been doing is dreaming of the day he’d finally be the one to break. Through a shaky swallow, she parts her lips. 
“Didn’t mean it,” she murmurs, sitting up slightly to look down at him. It’s a heavenly vision — the image of the professor she’s been crushing on, on his knees for her in her bedroom. He sends a smirk her way as if he can read her thoughts (and maybe he can, she’s truly not sure anymore), and surges forward to dip his tongue through her folds, licking up the heady arousal dripping from her hole. It makes her gasp and reach down to grab his hair, a tight fistful of locks in her hand.
“Doubt it,” he says into her core. His fingertip continues tracing tight circles into her clit as he begins to flex his tongue inside of her, and Y/N’s back is arching against the expanse of her mattress from the wet, intoxicating sensations of it all. It’s nearly too overwhelming for her, especially given the sensitivity of her clit — but Harry can feel her tensing beneath his grasp, a delicious telltale sign that her peak is quickly rising. 
“Harry— oh my god—”
“I know,” he coos, replacing his tongue with two of his fingers. He presses against her g-spot and she gasps, grinding her hips down against his hands, “There you go, angel girl, cum on my fingers. That’s it, good girl.”
If his hands weren’t currently occupied, one would undoubtedly be wrapped around his length right now, twisting and pumping until he emptied himself to the sight of Y/N’s coming, pulsating pussy. It's better than any daydream he ever could have thought of — her moans are beautiful and whimpery, her body warm and pliant beneath his touch as she comes down. Sensitivity immediately takes over and she gently bats his hands away, panting out loudly from above. 
“Alright?” He asks softly, placing a light kiss to her thigh. He hears her swallow loudly. 
“Jelly,” she mumbles, “Limbs are jelly.”
That makes him chuckle as he sits back up on his knees. He hovers over the length of her body and smiles at her fucked out expression. 
“You’re pretty when you come.” He says before leaning down to peck her lips. 
“Yeah?” She asks teasingly, “Show me what you look like?”
Harry stills but she nips at his bottom lip playfully, “You didn’t cum in your pants just from eating me out, did you?” 
“Got pretty close to it.” He confesses, eyes falling shut as she continues pressing kisses to his jawline and down to his neck. 
She hums at the admittance as her hands rake down his chest, “Do you wanna fuck me?” 
“Whatever you want,” he swallows, the answer sounding far more submissive out loud than he’d intentioned, “Fine with… I’m fine with whatever.” 
“I want you to fuck me.” She says, looking up at him. “Is that okay?”
“That’s perfectly okay.” 
Y/N grins and begins to make quick work of shedding his layers of clothes. His button-down is the first to go, followed by his trousers and belt. Once he’s down to his briefs, she gently hints at wanting to climb on top. He has no reservations with that so he helps her straddle his thighs, watching as her eyes peer down at his covered length. 
“You look big.” She admits. 
He’s not sure if it’s meant to be a compliment or a nervous comment, so he silently issues a small squeeze to her hip. 
“Seriously,” she continues with a frown. “Other girls have taken you no problem?” 
This makes him laugh. “Generally, yeah.” 
“I don’t think it’s gonna fit.” 
Harry smirks. “This isn’t your way of telling me you’re a virgin, right?”
“No!” She exclaims theatrically, and that only amplifies his laughter. “I’m just… I’m nervous! You look really big Harry, seriously.” 
“Take me out then,” he instructs lowly and the tone of his voice zips straight to Y/N’s center, “I promise, you’re freaking yourself out over nothing.” 
She grumbles as he pulls his underwear down his legs. Harry kicks them off his ankles and she sighs as she takes him into her hand. He has to make an effort not to hiss at the feeling of it. 
“Still huge,” she mutters, “My hand barely fits around you, Harry.” 
“You’re making my ego insane, angel.”
She peers up at him, where his arm is tucked behind his head like he’s lounging the day away. She gives the head of his cock a small squeeze. 
“Do you really think it’ll fit?”
“Yes,” he chuckles, “If not, I’ll just go down on you for an hour and by then you’ll be open and wet enough.”
“Shut up,” she mumbles, the thought of him spending an hour of his time between her thighs almost being too much to fathom. “‘M gonna try to put you in.”
“It’ll be fine, sweetheart. Just breathe and take your time. We can do a different position—“
“No,” she quickly shakes her head. “Wanna ride you. This is how I envisioned it.”
Harry’s eyebrow quirks at that but his curiosity is quickly replaced by pleasure when she hovers her hips over his length. The warmth from her previous orgasm is radiating off of her and he breathes out sharply when she pushes the tip in, her fingertips covering the sight. Harry reaches out to move them. “Need to see,” he grunts. 
Her jaw drops open as she slowly lowers onto him. Neither of them speak — it’s all entirely too consuming; her getting filled to the brim and him being surrounded by the tightest heat he’s ever felt. When she finally sinks down to his pelvic bone, her eyelashes flutter. 
“Can you move?” He asks through a slightly clenched jaw, “Or— do you need me to—“ 
“I can do it.” She replies as she steadily attempts to move her hips up. “Oh, that’s a lot.”
“Too much?”
She shakes her head, “It’s good. Is it good?”
“It’s amazing.” He breaths out, gritting his teeth as she moves up and down. 
With his reassurance under her belt, it’s easier for her to find a bit of rhythm, even if she has to place her hands down on his chest for stability. He happily places his own palms on top of them, curling his fingers around her wrists to help her. 
“There you go,” he encourages, leaning his head back against the pillow as he watches her. “You look so beautiful, holy shit.”
She moans when she finally figures out a pace that hits that soft spot inside of her, eyelashes fluttering from the constant pressure. Harry moves his hands down to her hips to assist in the maneuvers, but mainly because he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get sick of seeing his touch on her skin. She swallows harshly when she lifts a hand to coax at her swollen clit, a wet gasp sounding from her lips. Harry’s gaze lifts from where they’re connected to see widened eyes. 
“What’s the matter? Are you okay?” He asks in immediate panic. 
She nods quickly and reaches out to grab his hand and place it over his stomach. 
He thinks he may pass out. 
Beneath the soft, dimpled skin of her stomach, he can feel his length bulging in her tummy. If he looks close enough, he can see the faint outline. It takes everything in him not to snap. 
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters as she resumes her pace of bouncing on his cock. 
“Told you you were— oh— big,” she says stubbornly, and if he wasn’t so overwhelmed with the current state of her body, he probably would have had a comeback. But right now, all he can focus on is not blowing his load inside her. 
“Need you to come,” he grunts. She nods eagerly like a puppy and he smirks when her fingers return to her clit, rubbing tight circles. “Need you to come so I can paint that pretty pussy, yeah?” 
“Yes,” she mewls desperately. Her movements get jerkier and sloppier, but Harry has no problem meeting her hips. He thrusts up inside of her to hopefully reach the same spot, though his worry is quickly wiped away when he feels her muscles contract, her face twisting beautifully. 
He can barely help her through her orgasm before he’s pushing her into her side. He’s no longer inside and his hand has switched to keeping her thigh up as he pumps himself, groaning at the sticky mess between them. 
“Wanna feel it,” she whimpers almost pathetically, “Please Professor Styles, cum all over my pussy.” 
That’s all he needs before he’s bursting at the seams, ropes of thick, white cum covering her. He’s a groaning mess and he doesn’t even notice that she’s running her hand through his hair, playing with it gently, until he has nothing left to give. With a final whimper, he lays back against her bed, completely spent. 
When they’ve both caught their breath, Harry turns back onto his side to face her. 
“You alright?” he asks softly. He’s nervous to reach out and thumb at her cheek or press a kiss to her hand. For some reason, he feels like the situation is too delicate right now and he’s at risk of fucking it all up.
Y/N hums, “Mhm. Are you?”
“I am.” he answers with a thick swallow. “Is it okay if I hold you?”
“Please.”
His heart jumps and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, tugging her into his chest. He leans down and kisses her hair. 
They sit in the silence for a bit, Y/N finding comfort in Harry’s constant breathing, the sound of his heartbeat. 
And then: “So you envisioned this?”
She bites at the smile on her lips before she bats at his pecs, “Shut up. I know you did too.”
Harry has no problem admitting that she’s right.
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stylessbean · 2 months
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Harry Styles Fic Recs: Smut
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Hello everyone! Thank you so much for 200 followers! Here is the long-awaited smut fic rec masterlist so I hope y'all enjoy 😏😏
Last Updated: 7/02/2024
Series
Personal by @shawnxstyles
Only Angel by @cupid-styles
Blacking out and breaking hearts (slowburn!) by @dont-call-me-baby-posts
teach me by @freedomfireflies
office neighbours (another slowburn) by @atlafan
baby honey by @narrycherries
One Shots
Wishing you were here tonight is like holding on by @guardarecheluna
private show by @stylesharrys
the long weekend by @gurugirl
tentmate by @purplekiwis
moans and elevator music by @pleasingforharry
manbun by @eveningepiphany
just friends that f*ck by @1800titz
don't stop by @justlemmeadoreyou
the pact by @harryslittlefreakk
intimacy by @goldengalore
rough day by @goldengalore
Y/N and Harry have been on a dry spell, but then they fuck by @jawllines
short straw by @adorebeaa
learn to knock by @eveningepiphany
bound together by @harrysonlylover
overheard by @0nlythrowharrybeaux
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pouty baby
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hslwt91 · 1 year
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Love On Tour, Los Angeles, Night XV
1.29.23
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fatiblogsworld · 2 years
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mood of the day: if I ever get feelings for someone, he'd be either old, nerd, or a murderer.
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wrongplacerighttime · 14 days
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fratboy!harry x you
hi hi! its been awhile. finally finished this after 3834273 weeks it feels like. its also my first reader fic so....hope you like it HAHAHA.... :)
the one where your friends introduce you to Harry, you go on a trip and things get interesting. featuring a lake house, hiking, and a cherry sucker.
wc: 5.8k
tw: smut 18+, spanking, choking, light dom!harry dynamic, brief clit slapping, brief face slapping, lil bit of cum play, size kink, breeding kink if you squint. idk if i missed anything but as always let me know if i did :)
cherry sucker
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Finding solace in the chirping birds and chattering on the street that could be heard from your open window, you stood in front of your closet, clad in a little white tank and baby blue undies, preparing your bag for a camping trip you and your friends had planned. Spring semester has concluded and this trip will commemorate the start of summer vacation. You daydream about the sun glistening off the ripples of the lake water, the smell of the grass wafting in the wind as the sun warms the earth while you pack your bag. 
While you were excited for summer, you wanted to get a head start on your reading for fall semester. You had a textbook or two in the bottom of your bag—poli sci books, because you had heard the professor was relentless with his lesson plan and you wanted to go in with no surprises. You hear the faintest footsteps down stairs, growing louder the closer they drew up the stairs. Your door swings open and Faye strides through, red hair flowing behind her at the pace she was walking. She comes up behind you, smacking your ass making you yelp. 
“Faye!” You squeal, clutching the cheek that was now turning red with your best friend's hand print. 
“I’m so envious of your ass, I just had to.” She falls backwards on your bed, arms sprawling beside her. “It’s just so tempting.” She giggles and you turn back to your closet.
“I’m so glad we actually have time to see each other now that classes are over. School’s been so busy I feel like all I’ve done is sleep and go to class.” 
“Is that why you have a fucking textbook in your bag?” Faye raises her eyebrow at your duffle and picks one up. “Russian socioeconomic structure? What even is this?” 
“It’s for Professor Sykes. I’ve heard he's brutal and I want to be prepared.” 
“You are not bringing this. You have a whole summer ahead of you to study.” Faye scoffs, pausing for a moment. “If you bring this book on this trip I’ll throw it in the lake myself.” 
“Then you’ll owe me $200. Besides, what if I get bored?” You cross your arms over your chest and Faye looks at you like you’ve grown another head. 
“There’s a lake! A lake!” She throws her hands up in the air, laughing at your determination. You bend down, opening your drawer and pulling out a skimpy yellow bikini to throw in your bag. “By the way, Josh is bringing a friend. His name’s Harry…Styles I think. Do you know him?” You shake your head. 
“Know of him, don’t know him though.” 
“Oh. Well he’s single…and kind of hot.” Faye giggles and you shake her head again.
“No thanks. I’m not really into the dating scene right now.” 
“No one said anything about dating. Just maybe for a little…fun.” This time, it’s your turn to look at Faye like she’s the one who’s grown another head. “Fine. If you don’t want to…maybe he’ll be our third.” She wiggles her eyebrows and you widen your eyes in horror at her suggestion of asking Harry to join her and her boyfriend in their sexual endeavors. 
Before you can get another thought in, heavy footsteps clamber up the stairs and it’s Josh, Harry in tow with a backpack slung over his shoulder and suddenly your room feels very small. Josh flicks his eyes to you, smiling and sitting next to Faye on your bed. 
“Pauly and Alex are on their way. We’re putting all the shit in their car and you guys are gonna ride with us.” He says, gesturing his finger between the two of you and you nod. The window open brings a warm breeze into the room, blowing your sketchbook pages until it lands on one with a drawing of a man. 
Not just any man…it was your ex. Your eyes flick to everyone and you rush over to shut it before anyone can catch it. It was an old drawing, and a hobby you hadn’t picked back up since things ended and you really didn’t feel like rehashing the breakup with Faye. Faye wasn’t the biggest fan of him, and for good reason after he cheated on you with the TA in one of his classes last semester. 
Harry stands in the doorway, chewing gum between his molars, his jaw flexing and glances around your room—the bedroom of a girl whom he’d never met, and it felt very personal…like he was getting a peak into who you were as a person. An overflowing bookshelf, handmade drawings stuck to a corkboard on the wall over the desk. Faye and Josh were talking in hushed whispers and he tilted his head to the side as he had the perfect view of your ass as you were turned around and facing your desk. He smirks at the red hand mark left there, and he could feel his cock twitching in his pants at the thoughts running through his head. He drops his gaze as you turn back around to walk towards your closet again. His eyes meet yours and you smile, a greeting showing you were just being nice, and he wonders if you always walk around half dressed in front of strangers. He clears his throat.
“Sykes next semester?” He asks, voice with a hint of an accent you weren’t expecting and you nod. 
“How’d you know?” He gestures his elbow towards your bag, the textbook on top of your clothes and your mouth forms and “O” and you nod.
“He teaches that entire fucking book every year. It’s such a snooze fest.” He pauses. “Do you like Russian literature?” You nod again, gesturing to your bookshelf filled with classics and fantasy and romance. You had a few authors on the shelf, but not as many as you would like. He brings his backpack around to his side, unzipping and reaching in. He pulls out a tattered book, crinkles in the cover and the corners turning up, all characteristics of a well loved piece and hands it to you. “Read this instead. A lot more interesting.” He smirks and your gaze drops to the words on the cover. A collection of poems by Anna Akhmatova. In the short conversation you were having you didn’t realize that you had been left alone with him. He smiles, a sly grin spreading on his lips almost like he knew he was about to be a menace. 
“By the way, blue looks good on you.” He flicks his gaze down before meeting your eyes again. You feel your cheeks burning instantly as he walks out the door laughing to himself as he stumbles his way down the stairs, leaving you to finish packing alone.
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The car ride to the cabin had everyone buzzing with anticipation. Faye had called shotgun, and you and Harry shared a look when she did. He smirked and you looked away and quickly climbed into the backseat. The entire ride you were consumed with a nervous energy that you couldn’t quite place. Harry had his hand splayed out on the seat beside you and when he leaned forward to talk to Josh, the tip of his pinky barely brushed your skin and you tried not to think about it too hard for the rest of the ride over.
It took no time for you to clamber out of the car and claim your room inside for the weekend. Tossing your bag onto the floor by the door, you flopped down on the fluffy mattress holding the book Harry lent you to your chest. You were fiddling with the cover when Faye waltzed in and leaned against the foot of the bed. 
“Get up. We’re going on a hike.” She said giddy with excitement and you cocked your eyebrow at her. 
“Think I’ll pass.” 
“Not an option. Everyone else is going.” She crosses her arms and leans on the doorframe. 
“I didn’t bring shoes for a hike.” You half laugh at her with a shake of your head and she narrows her eyes. 
“You can wear a pair of mine. Let’s go.” Faye gestures and you groan, tossing the book back onto the bed with a soft thud against the duvet. You pad down the hallway after her, slumped over feigning protest like a toddler and she hands you a pair of her sneakers once you reach her room. Slipping them on, you plait your hair behind your head quickly and messily as you find your way to the foyer where everyone is gathered and waiting to leave. None of them look thrilled either as they follow Faye out the door to the path behind the house.
The June sun was high in the sky and the only reprieve you were able to get from the heat was the occasional shade of the trees along the path. You and Harry had fallen behind, the rest of the group up ahead and through heavy breaths you would sneak glances from the corner of your eye as the sun glistened off the light sheen of sweat coating his shoulders and his chest. He had popped a cherry sucker in his mouth not long ago and you watched as he moved it from one cheek to the other with his tongue and caught your mind wandering to what his tongue might feel like running along the expanse of your skin. You walk in silence, hands brushing slightly from the uneven terrain and you want to apologize for repeatedly bumping him but you don’t. 
“Does she always make you do shit like this?” He huffs from behind you, stepping over a fallen limb.
“Unfortunately.” You grumble back, trying not to roll your ankle stepping over rocks bigger than the palm of your hand. 
Even though this hike was the last thing Harry wanted to be doing, he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed your company, though little conversation had been exchanged since the moment in your room. His eyes trailed over your body, noticing the bead of sweat rolling down your chest and his tongue darts out over his lips, wanting nothing more than to trail his tongue down the same path. He watched the way your thighs flexed as you stepped over limbs and branches and he thought about them wrapped around his waist, driving into you over and over while your fingers leave marks over his torso. He pulls his shirt over his head, unable to take the heat of the afternoon any longer and he tucks it into the waistband of his shorts. He’s noticed you watching him too, stealing glances out of the corner of your eye and biting your teeth into the pillowy flesh of your bottom lip. He’s convinced that he could do anything and you’d melt into the palm of his hand, so desperate to please him and be good for him. He smirks to himself as you divert your eyes ahead, away from his now bare torso and towards the ground. 
He looks at you briefly before his eyes flick ahead, and you don’t know that he’s judging how long it would take for your friends to notice if he pulled you out of sight for a moment.  He decides it’s worth the risk, lightly grabbing your arm and pulling you behind a nearby tree. You feel the bark against your back as he cages your head between his arms and you look up at him with wide eyes. All you can hear is the pounding of your heart against your ribcage at his close proximity. 
So close you can smell the cherry on his breath, hear the faint sound as the confection clatters against his teeth. Your eyes focus on the white stick poking from between his lips and he watches you. His hands dig into the roughness of the oak and his chest pressed against yours. Suddenly the heat of the afternoon feels suffocating. He brings his own hand to his mouth, plucking the stick from between his teeth and the sticky residue touches your lips. Upon instinct, your tongue darts out to collect, catching the sweetness and savoring it for a moment. 
“Open.” His voice is low and gravelly, and for some reason you find yourself obeying his command before you can even think too hard about it. Your lips part and you stick out your tongue in anticipation, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you and he hums. “Can y’hold this for me, puppy?” 
A heat swirls in your core, and without noticing your thighs clench together and a whine escapes your throat as you nod. Harry places the sweet candy on your tongue and your lips wrap around the stick slick from his own salivation. “Good girl.” He mutters, stepping away and creating space between the two of you. You snap out of the trance you seemingly had fallen into and scurry away, catching up to your friends and leaving him laughing behind you. 
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Nightfall comes before you have a chance to think about it. You had taken a quick nap after you returned from the hike and it was much needed, considering your mind was going haywire and you just needed a break from your thoughts drifting to Harry. It was quiet out here, you and Harry the only ones left sitting next to the fire Josh and Pauly had started a couple of hours ago. You were huddled up under a blanket, the air blowing off the lake making it feel colder than it actually was. Frogs were humming by the water and the crickets were chirping in the grass, the sounds of nature around you made you feel calm. You had the book Harry had loaned you resting against your thigh as you read the prose on the weathered pages. Harry had his head leaned back, fingers weaved together on his chest with his eyes closed. Occasionally you would peek over at him and he seemed tranquil. You weren’t sure why he was still here with you, but maybe he was just enjoying the fire like you were. You had purposely avoided him after the incident on the hike, the memory still causing an arousal to pool beneath the denim of your shorts and you tried like hell to push it from your mind.
“Let’s swim.” He states, pulling you from your thoughts. You raised your brow at him, a quizzical look. 
“I’ll pass.” You blow out a laugh and he turns his head towards you then. 
“Why? Faye and Josh are off somewhere, probably fucking, and Pauly and Alex are doing bong rips inside. Not really a fan of that…they're incessantly annoying when they’re high. So let’s go swim.” He says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as if it was the most sound choice of activity for this time of night.
“It’s cold, and I’m actually enjoying this book of poems you lent me.” You tell him, and because you’re not looking at him at that second you don’t see the way the corner of his mouth twitches into a half smile. 
“Anna Akhmatova is interesting. But you have all weekend to read it.” He turns to face you then, you catch the movement out of your peripheral.
“I also have all weekend to swim.” You tease him. He’s silent for a moment and you turn the page to read the next poem. He shifts in his seat. 
“Alright. I didn’t want it to have to come to this…” He says, sighing. He stands, making his way over to you. Before you can process what he’s doing, he snatches the book and throws it onto a neighboring chair. In one swift movement, he picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he walks towards the dock. You thrash and kick but it’s no use, not when he’s stronger than you’ll ever be. 
“Harry! Put me down!” You exclaim, laughing in the process and you feel his chest against your thighs. He doesn’t respond. “Okay! I surrender. I’ll swim with you. Please just don’t throw me in.” You try to reason with him and he stops, pausing his movements and taking in your words. He plants your feet on the weathered wood, and you look up at him with narrowed eyes as he smiles down at you, a crooked grin that had your knees feeling weak. “That wasn’t funny. I don’t have a swim suit on either.” 
“I guess that gives us a perfect excuse to go skinny dipping then.” He states as if there’s nothing wrong with that scenario. 
“Respectfully, no. I’ll swim in my clothes.” You counter back.
“Sweet girl, it’s nothing you or I haven’t seen before. Be mature.” He teases and you want to laugh, but you cross your arms over your chest, instinctively making yourself smaller. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of his shorts before looking back at you, noticing your hesitation and he stops. “We really don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He puts his hands on your arms, and you shake your head, looking out at the ripples on the surface lit by the moon. 
“No it’s—I’m not—it’s fine. I want to. I just haven’t really taken my clothes off in front of a guy in—since…” You pause, collecting your thoughts before looking up at him. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t know why I’m being this way. I think I’m just nervous.” 
“You don’t have to feel that way around me. Promise.” He smiles and turns back around, pushing his shorts down so you have a view of his bare ass. Your cheeks redden as you avert your gaze elsewhere, and he jumps into the water with a splash. You can’t see him, not until he pokes his head back up and shakes the water from his hair. “It feels great.” He covers his eyes with his hands. “I won’t look if you don’t want me to. Not until you’re in the water.” He says and you nod, and then realizing he can’t see you clear your throat. 
“Okay.” Your voice feels small. Hesitantly you unbutton your shorts, sliding them down along with your underwear and pulling the sweatshirt over your head leaving you bare and exposed, and you hoped and prayed that Alex and Pauly weren’t watching out the window. You drop it to the dock, your clothes and his making separate piles, taking a step towards the edge and looking down into the water. Here goes nothing, you say to yourself and leap in. And he was right, it really did feel great. It envelopes around you as you swim upwards and breach the surface, wiping your eyes and opening them. He’s there in front of you, a smile plastered on his face. 
“See, s’not so bad, right?” He asks and you shake your head again as you tread the water. And you both stay like that for a while, swimming and floating. He floats on his back and you try a little too hard to not let your gaze travel south, focusing on his face and how content he looks with his eyes closed. You’re too busy staring at the tattoos littering his torso when he says something you don’t quite catch.  
“Hm?” Your gaze flits back to his face and he’s smiling. 
“I said,"Do you like what you see?” He laughs and you can feel your cheeks redden because he caught you staring at him. 
“I’m sorry.” You apologize sheepishly and he swims over to you, closing the distance and you bite back a grin at the close proximity. 
“Don’t need to apologize, sweet girl.” He says, his voice low and he brings his hand up to thumb over your lips, parting them before his thumb runs over your cheek. “Be lying if I said I haven’t been staring at you all night.” He confesses and you think if you were nervous before, then you’re not sure what you’re feeling right now. It feels like a stampede of elephants is running through your belly as he runs the backs of his fingers across your cheek. You decide to just rip the bandaid off and go for it. Your hands find his face and you crash your lips to his, and he’s taken off guard but the next second his hands dip under the water and he pulls you into him, the warmth of your bodies melding together underneath the surface. Upon instinct, your legs wrap around his waist as you push your chest into him, causing him to tighten his grip on your waist, dimpling the skin beneath his fingertips. 
It was almost like neither of you needed to speak, once the kiss had broken you both swam fervently towards the dock. He hoists you up by your waist, quickly dressing just to go inside and get undressed again. He pulls you by your hand towards the cabin, and you say a silent prayer that your friends who were in here made their way outside. 
By the grace of some higher power, the house was empty and the air inside was cold and smelled of the aftershocks of bong rips and a half smoked joint. Harry pulled you down the hall, into his room, and shut the door behind him with a click of the lock. 
He smirks and he pushes you down into the bed, hair wet and sticking to the skin of your neck. He crawls over you after pulling your shorts off and throwing them somewhere across the room, slotting a knee between your thighs and instinctively you grind against him, gripping onto his biceps. He hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties and slides them down your thighs in one swift move, and you kick them the rest of the way off in anticipation.
“Been thinking about taking those off since I saw you prancing around your room in them this morning.” His voice drops an octave as he ghosts the tip of his nose along your cheek , tracing the outline of your jaw as you desperately move your hips seeking for any friction it would give you.  He pulls back, looking over your features and you can see his pupils blown from his own pleasure. 
“Look at you.” He coos, clicking his tongue behind his teeth. “Taking before I can even give anything to you, so selfish.” He purrs, and somehow the tone of it makes you stop, halting the movement of your hips. 
“No. Go ahead, angel. Wanna watch you get yourself off just from riding my thigh. Need it so bad, can’t even help yourself.” He coos, but his tone is condescending and you almost question him. He raises a brow, running a thumb over your cheek delicately. The harsh tone of his voice and the softness of his touch playing mind games with you. “Do it. Be a good girl.” He encourages you, and you feel like it’s a trap. 
“N-no. Want whatever you wanna give me. I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.” You pout your lower lip out and he thumbs over it, pulling it down before it bounces back into place. You like that he takes initiative, being dominant over you like it comes so easily for him. He can see the wheels in your mind turning and he cocks his head to the side. 
“What?” 
“Nothing. Just never done this before. Never had someone be…” You trail off, but he nods like he already knew what you were going to say. 
“I see. Sweet girl’s never had someone take control over her?” You shake your head. He rolls his lip between his teeth, eyes flittering around your face. “But you crave it, don’t you? Just wanna be a cock-drunk little slut? Wanna have someone filling you, telling you what to do?” His words penetrate your brain and your eyes flutter closed. “Answer me. Is that what you want?” He demands and you nod, faster than you ever have and he flashes his pretty smile at you. 
“Yes. Please.” Finding your voice, begging him. He shifts, pressing his thigh into your center and a whimper falls from your lips, the heat growing between your thighs. 
“Go.” He leans down, pressing his lips to your pulse point and trailing kisses down your collar bone. Slowly, your hips begin to move and you’re almost embarrassed at your arousal coating his skin, glistening in the soft glow of the lamp. You push the thoughts away, focusing on your pleasure as you feel his hardening length against your thigh, pressing into you. You reach down, palming him through the material before he grabs your wrist and pins it above your head. “Didn’t tell you you could touch.” He mumbles against your skin and you whine in protest. Your hips move faster now, and you’re so close. Just as you’re about to tip over the edge, he pulls away and your lungs deflate, a breath being taken away from you. He stands over you, pushing his shorts down and your eyes widen at the sight of him. You want to reach out and grab him, pump his cock with your hand but you refrain. He leans over you again, planting kisses down your chest and dipping in the valley between your tits, his nose ghosting over your skin. 
“Want you to tell me red if you wanna stop, okay? Green if you wanna keep going. Got it?” He asks and you nod. He peeks up at you through his lashes and cocks his brow. “Words, puppy. Can’t hear a nod or a shake.”
“Yes. I’m—yes. Got it” You’re breathless with your answer. He peppers small kisses over your navel, gripping your hips between his fingers as his head dips lower, kissing the insides of both thighs, trailing his tongue over your skin and purposely skipping over your weeping hole just to make you squirm under his grip. He parts you open then, collecting your arousal on his tongue and the wicked sensation makes your back arch from the bed, pushing your core closer to him and he forces you back down. 
“Uh-uh. Stay still or I’ll stop.” He mumbles, and a whine bubbles in your throat. He laps lazily st your core, circling and flattening his tongue over your clit as you try your hardest to keep your hips still. His fingers dimple your skin, digging into the muscle underneath. He knew he was gripping hard enough to leave small bruises in the shape of his fingertips, and he wanted to. Wanted you to remember his head between your thighs as you shattered just from the flick of his tongue against your sensitive bud. You’re a mess of moans and panting his name over and over. He pulls your clit between his teeth and your hips jolt upwards and he pushes you back down to the mattress. He pulls away, and your chest heaves at the loss of contact but a cry escapes your throat when he lands a light smack to your center, and the pain morphes into pleasure as tears well up in your eyes at the sting.
“Told you to stay still. Can’t follow simple directions, angel?” 
“M’s—sorry.” You gasp and he glances up at you, noticing your wet lashes and he props himself up on his elbows. 
“What's your color, sweet girl?” His tone is gentle, planting a soft kiss to the top of your thigh and peeking up at you from under his lashes.
“Green.” You answer eagerly and he smiles against your skin, crawling back up to level with your eyes. His lips find yours and you open, allowing him to push his tongue into your mouth against your own, the room around you melting away. It’s slow, sensual and full of desire. He doesn’t pull away as he lines himself up with you, the tip of his cock teasing your aching hole and you move your hips trying like hell to get him further inside. 
“So needy.” He mumbles against your lips and pulls your bottom one between his teeth, nipping gently. He pushes into you slowly, your mouth dropping open as he lays his forehead against your collarbone. “So tight, sweet girl. I don’t think m’gonna fit.” He pushes into you further, teeth marking your skin as he groans against your skin and you whine at the sting of him stretching you. 
“Fuck, Harry.” You whimper, he cages your head between his hands, holding himself up as his biceps flex and extend, the sinewy tissue underneath his skin prominent. He looks down between your bodies, where he's halfway sheathed inside your pussy and he chuckles, a breathy laugh that morphs into a sigh. 
“Pretty little pussy looks so pitiful like this. Can’t do it, puppy.” He pants, and you know somewhere in the back of your mind that he’s just playing a part, but it doesn’t stop the cry that escape from your throat as you beg him to fuck you. 
“Please, Harry. Need you. Want you so much. Can take it, promise. Please.” You look up at him with wide eyes and he admires you for a moment, taking in the pout playing on your pretty mouth that he just wants to kiss away, the tears welling in your eyes that he’ll wipe away if they fall. The need in your voice letting him know you’d do anything he asks of you in this moment. 
“Alright, I’ll give it to you. Gonna go slow til you’re all stretched out f’me.” He palms your thighs, hiking them around his waist and continues to fill you, your head lulling to the side as your eyes flutter closed and your jaw falls slack when he reaches to the hilt, balls resting against your ass as his head falls back. “So fucking good, angel. Look at me, wanna see those pretty eyes.” 
So you listen, do the best you can to force your eyes open as he starts to rock his hips into you, pulling out to the tip before filling you up again and again. He hikes your leg over his shoulder, kissing down your calf as he sets his rhythm, going deeper from this angle. His eyes never leave yours as he groans and nibbles on your skin, peppering small bites and then soothing with his tongue. He hits the right spot every time, and when your eyes finally betray you and fall closed, you feel a smack land on your cheek. Not hard, but just enough to sting and you whimper. 
“Thought you were a good girl.” He says through gritted teeth and he drives into you harder. 
“I-I am. Want to be good for you.” He grunts at your response, he pulls out and flips you over before pulling your ass up in the air so you sit on your knees with your face down in the mattress. He palms your ass, landing a smack to your cheek. He rubs over the spot gently, soothing as you push closer into his touch and he's climbing behind you, lining up and pushing back in and it feels even better from this angle. Hitting every spot just right and you swear you see stars. He reaches around you, pushing on your tummy just under your navel and wraps his other hand around your throat lightly, pulling you up. 
Your back is flush with his chest, skin sticking together from the light sheen of sweat coating both your bodies. One hand squeezing the sides of your neck and the other pressing still on your belly and he nips at your ear.
“Can feel me all the way in your tummy, can’t you? This is what you like right? Nobody’s ever had you like this have they?” He whispers and you shake your head. His hand finds yours and he brings it back to the spot just below your belly button. “Feel that? Feel me so deep in this pretty pussy. Gonna get you all full of me, fill you with my babies.” He grits and squeezes your neck a little harder, the corners of your vision darkening before he lets go and you take in a full breath, feeling high on him…and he’s all you know. His words, his hands roaming your body and his cock stretching you. 
“Harry, I’m so close.” You breathe out and he grunts, lips ghosting over your shoulder blade. 
“I know…can feel you squeezing my cock so tight angel. C’mon. Cum for me.” He encourages you and you shatter around him, pussy pulsing around him bringing him to his own release as he paints inside you. He wastes no time pulling out and you topple over from your legs feeling weak and he dips down behind you. You feel him dripping out of your hole, and his fingers spread you open. Pushing one inside with no warning, he fucks his cum back inside of you with his fingers and you hum, unable to make any other noise and he chuckles behind you.
“Like being filled like this? Look so pretty full of me, dripping out of you. Never gonna forget it.” He mutters, planting a kiss on the small of your back before standing. Finding the energy to roll over, he offers his fingers to you and you take them between your lips and taste the mix of both of you on his fingers. He curses under his breath at the sight of you, feeling his cock twitching back to life and he pulls them away to stop himself thinking about fucking you again and again.
You slept in his bed that night.
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The weekend ended all too quickly, and you were half asleep in the back seat of Josh’s car with your head resting on the window, holding Harry’s book on your thighs and fiddling wither cover, something you had become accustomed to as you read the prose on the pages or when you closed in while engaging in conversation. Truthfully, you didn’t know if you’d see him in that capacity again after this weekend and didn’t know if you wanted to go back to being strangers that passed each other in the economics building on campus. 
Josh pulled up to the house you and Faye shared, and Harry follows you out of the car. He retrieves your bag from Pauly’s car for you, carrying it up to your room and putting it down on your bed. You almost felt like you were having deja vu, the scene similar to one from Thursday afternoon, except this time you weren’t half naked in front of him and he wasn’t just a stranger in your room anymore. You look around, then to the floor before meeting his eyes and he smirks as he leans against your doorframe. 
“Here.” You hand him the book but he puts his hands up, shaking his head.
“Keep it.” He says, and you almost refuse but accept it anyway. He bites the inside of his cheek, shifting his weight and shoving his hands in his pockets. He steps closer, brushing your hair behind your ear as you look up at him. “Don’t be a stranger, angel.” 
“I won’t be.”
He leaves you there, standing in the middle of the room with his book clutched to your chest with a cheesy grin plastered on your face.
And you knew it wouldn't be the last time you saw Harry Styles.
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sushirrrry · 2 months
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wrangled
a harry styles one-shot. 14k words. cw: age-gap, sexual content, spitting, spanking, squirting, dirty talk, humiliation kink, coarse language, dom/sub kink
Forte Ranch.
Kettle Falls, Washington.
June Forte is the 24 year old daughter of Travis Forte– the owner of the largest bison ranch in eastern Washington. When she returned home from college, her wishes of becoming a teacher in the area land her with a few different jobs– one that also includes the family business.
It's not lost on her that when she starts noticing that a superbly handsome, older ranch-hand who introduces himself in a deep-posh accent as Harry Styles, that she seems to lose a bit of focus on the picture: make enough money to leave Kettle Falls for good.
But, the older man seems to keep running into her no matter how many times she tries to leave. Maybe, she recognizes, that it isn't a coincidence.
When Harry and June are one day left alone, the tensions are higher than ever. Once June gets a taste, her intuition starts to let her know that maybe seeing the dimples underneath the brim of the Stetson is easier to lean into rather than run from.
He's not letting her run away that easy.
"Goddamnit, Fury– let's go!"
She pulled at the lead; the rope pulled at her hands a bit when the horse continued to stand his ground, obviously more powerful than her.
A quick sigh, a puff of air to move some of the hair off of her face. June couldn't help but groan at the horse's stubbornness that kept him inside the confines of his stall.
She had a lesson in an hour now. Not that it would have been a huge deal— the family that she taught for were very laid back, but her need to follow a schedule made Fury's outburst quite annoying as it would take a bit of time to get him out now.
The horse-riding lessons that she had been giving were supplementing the cash flow through the summer. Next year, she would be starting a position as a teacher at one of the local schools in the area. June had gone to school in Seattle; it was the biggest culture shock for her when she arrived in the big city.
From growing up on the ranch to moving to the big city with just what she could fit in her dad's pick-up–she had loved every moment of it. She loved seeing the way that the traffic built up everywhere in the early mornings, the honking horns, the sleepy travelers in the coffee shops every morning.
It was a learning experience that she had been blessed with. But, in reality, her heart stayed in the eastern mountains; the smell of the fresh air every morning gave her such a high that she hadn't been expecting to miss with her whole heart.
Living on this ranch, in this small town, had been in her heart this whole time. She hadn't recognized how much of her she still had to learn.
When you're young, you want so bad to leave. Then, you see the rest of the world, and you find home so much more appealing. It feels secure, it feels like a place that you can come back to when you're finished exploring.
It's a place to relax. A place to replenish. A place to house your soul.
Now, she say her fighting with her horse who seemed to have the upper-hand.
"Fury, if you don't come on," She rubbed the horse's nose, giving him a look as he tilted up his head quickly. "You're being so stub—"
"Might wanna give him something to entice him."
The sound behind her makes June jump with a fright, a gasp escaping as she had been lost in her own world. There's a man standing on the opposite side of her now, unlocking the gate of the horse stall. She hadn't noticed him before, so she wondered how long he had been standing there watching her struggle with the ropes her hands. 
A chestnut mare stands, grunts softly in front of him as he looks back at her. June recognized the man, which didn't seem to happen often. The farm has lots of people coming through, many stay for weeks– months, maybe. The summer months are preparing for the winter; she knew that a lot more came around at this time of the year.
But she recognized him.
There wasn't a person who wouldn't.
The man's accent threw her for a moment– not realizing if she had heard him speak before. She mustn't have, or she'd know the low drawl of a foreign tongue.
But there's a few certain men that have been around for a bit. This man, in particular, she thought. He wears his hair longer, a bit down on his ears. He pushes it back into his Stetson, the chocolate curls have grown every time she sees him closer.
He has a soft scruff along his jawline that was really only visible up close; a white tank top that has seen better days when it was a pure white on the rack. June lets her eyes wander for a moment before she sees that he notices, a hint of pink painting her cheeks as she watches that he seems to go on about his day without another word.
Not to mention: if you stared at him in the heat of the eastern Washington sun, it was entirely too close to see the shade of green that his eyes shone. They practically became translucent at how luminous they became.
June was a bit taken; her hands adjust on the lead as she watched the man throw a bridle over the large mare's nose. He clicked his tongue to get her to follow, the mare following him out of the stall easily. June watched at how easy it was; she knew Fury was a bit hard-headed to begin with, so it couldn't have been that easy no matter what he had said to her.
As the man started walking away just a bit, Fury took a step forward which helped June aid him out of the stall. It threw her for a moment, her body moving forward to help lead the horse where he needed. He followed, though a bit slowly as he shook his head when she pulled in the lead towards the saddling. 
"See, told you," The man spoke once again, nodding his head a bit towards his mare, "Men are always enticed by pretty ladies."
He had taken the saddle off of the stand, throwing it over the mare's back. June's eyes stared at the way his muscles popped through the sleeveless shirt, pushing the heavy riding saddle up further on the horses back.
"Going for a ride?" The man spoke again, watching as June hooked Fury up to stand so that he was secured. June hadn't spoken yet, feeling her voice caught in her throat over the way that he had been a bit chatty with her.  Her eyes drifted over to him, knowing he had been talking to her again which elicited a response.
She bit her lip, pulling up on the loops of her jeans that hugged around the curve of her hips.
"No, I teach, actually." June commented, brushing down Fury's neck before pushing some of his mane out of his eyes.
The horse chewed a bit, making her smile as his lips tried to nip at her arm. "Have a lesson soon. He's the best with kids, gives them a hard time but it's good for them to learn how to be a bit more assertive. He listens when you're real strict with him, just not well."
"Really all the qualities of a man, huh?" The man smirked; they stood next to each other at the station before June looked over and he had started to move towards her. His hand outreached, his eyes truly on her now as they became closer with each step he took. "Harry Styles."
June swallowed back, her hand moving out towards his as they locked together in a moment. "June Forte. You're a worker here?"
Harry's eyes shift for a moment when he notices the deep blue of her eyes and the familiarity of her generational smile. His tongue flicks out to run over his bottom lip as he lets his eyes drag over her a moment. June squirms under his vision, her breath halted as he takes his hand away and their touch loosens.
"And this is your ranch, I presume." He speaks, his words standing in the air.
June shrugs her shoulders up as if his comment didn't mean much. "Not mine– well, my family's, so technically will be mine or my siblings someday. My dad's dream was to own it, and I guess now he does. Was my grandads, and my great-grandads. He built it, and it's just a family heirloom now. But yeah– we live up there."
Harry's breath baited for a moment, a small scoff of a chuckle leaving his lips as he moved back towards the mare. The mare stomped on the ground, his hand moving to comfort her outburst.
"Guess I don't need to be flirting with the ranch owner's daughter, then. May be a conflict of interest."
June raised a brow at his words, feeling a hotness come across her neck as she moved to throw the big brush through Fury's chestnut coat. She faced away from him now, her head turning to look over her shoulder at the way he continued to smirk at her.
For the first time in a while, June's sharp tongue felt dull. She didn't know what to say as she felt some hair fall into her face as she managed to push the heavy brush through the horse's coat.
"Never been a huge rule follower, though." He followed up, pulling the reins of the tacked horse; he walked backwards out of the barn with his eyes on June– the shape of her body only let his eyes fall down and around her curves.
A soft chuckle came from her lips as she heard the clicking of his tongue, guiding the mare out. "Easy, cowboy." She called back, in a surprising quip, "My ranch, my rules."
"So now you're the boss?" He quipped, "giving me mixed signals, June." Harry paused for a moment, giving her a moment to comeback.
"Let's just say I'm pretty close to the guy in charge." June tilted her head, "But I'd say that flirting with the boss's daughter isn't in your best interest if you want to stick around."
June watched the man quickly bite his lip as if he was stopping himself from another remark.
"We'll see about that one." He called back, his boots crunching on the gravel once again, his eyes staying on her even when leading the large horse out of the barn. "Might be the opposite effect if I'm lucky."
June bit her lip at the thought of him– wondering if he had seen her before. Her legs adjusted just at the thought of his low, raspy voice. She hasn't heard it before, but now all she could hear was his words in the back of her head.
"Hope you find a four-leaf clover out there, gonna need it." June said back, watching as he moved away, a wink flying back at her.
She huffed, looking at her horse before a shake of her head made her feel a bit dizzy.
Maybe it wasn't the head shake that made her feel that way.
***
The following morning, Fury continued to give June quite a time. He was a stubborn horse, but she knew that he trusted her and vice versa. June never felt that she had a problem with him, he had been her horse for over ten years now.
June grew up with horses, riding and watching them was in her blood. She loved riding and watching people become more comfortable as they rode more. It was a pleasure for her to teach young kids to be comfortable and confident while riding, especially when it taught discipline and hard work.
Nothing about riding horses was easy– she continued to learn that the hard way. It took trust, and lots of effort to make sure that the animal underneath you trusted every part of you. The hardest part was putting your life in their hands. But, it was always worth taking that chance.
He kicked a few times, the young girl that she had for the lesson this morning was mostly scared that she was going to fall off. June reassured her that she would hold his lead, but that she needed to be strong.
"When you're scared, he's going to be scared," June tried to reassure her, watching the young girl— her name was Natasha, she was around eleven. "You have to be in control of him, and he's going to respond to you. But we can end the lesson a bit early if you're feeling some nerves— that's okay, too."
Natasha gave June a look; she was unsure, and June could read all over it. However, Natasha pushed through some of her nerves, which led to June eventually letting go of the reins and letting the girl trot some laps around the outside arena space.
"You got it!" She yelled over, staying on the fence, her eyes lighting up at the girl's excitement over her accomplishments of getting the horse to where she wanted him. "Let's loop around one more time, and then bring it back to the center."
June pushed her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. The outside training grounds was a large area of the ranch, covered by trees and small patches of grass. She tucked some hair behind her ear that had fallen out of the messy bun she pulled at the base of her neck.
A small noise caught her attention as she started to make her way to the center of the arena to meet Fury and Natasha. June bit on her lip as she squinted in the early morning sun that was casting over the field down to the bison pasture. The gates had opened, watching the man from earlier in the saddle atop the chestnut mare.
His head turned to check that the smaller bison calves had made their way through to the other side of the fence.
"Shut 'em in!" He yelled, pulling at the reins of his horse before the other ranch-hand pulled at the metal gate on the other side.
The field sat opposite of the smaller training field that had been built for June's benefit; she absolutely loved teaching, loved the elements of getting young riders out on the back of a horse to feel the fresh breeze in their hair. It had been so therapeutic to her growing up when everything felt that it could have fallen apart at any moment— this was her world.
Growing up on the ranch had been a saving grace for her. It was the yin to the yang of the city that she had grown to love. She had never had the opportunity to fall in love with another place like she had with Seattle.
It didn't hurt that these were the kinds of views that she had, either.
June hadn't been paying attention as she heard her name being called; her head whipped around as she watched Fury stomp a few times and start to buck and push the young girl. June watched her expression as she held at the fence, watching the young girl struggle with the large stallion.
"Hold on, Natasha!" June yelled, sitting up on the large fence before she cupped her hands over her mouth, "Pull the reins real hard to the left!"
She could see the fear on the girls face as she tried to brace, tried to do what June had told her to. She wasn't strong enough to manage the horse as her foot slid from the saddle and her body flung to the side and off into the dirt of the ring.
June gasped outwardly with a few curses as she ran towards where the girl was flung off. Fury moved away now that she felt safe enough that she could grab her and move out of the ring. She felt horrible not being to stop it before it started, not reading the language of the horse before it was too late.
"Are you okay, sweetie?" June asked, the young girl sitting up on her elbows as she tried to brush herself off. "You're not hurt, are you? Nothing feels broken?"
She shook her head, the helmet bearing her fall as she seemed to just be a bit more traumatized than hurt. The adrenaline must've been moving through her as they stood up, June helping her as she looked around the ring to notice that the horse had made his way out of the ring through the gate she had opened, ready to lead them out.
"Shit!" June yelled out, her head moving around at an attempt to find the horse that had been trotting away. She tucked the hair behind her ear as she turned to look around.
"I'm so sorry," Natasha started, obviously in shock, "I-I didn't– I got scared."
June turned to the girl, shaking her head profusely. "No, no, sweetie. It's fine– as long as you're okay."
June took Natasha out of the ring, climbing up the fence and over to the grassy knoll. Her hands landed on her hips as she searched around for Fury who had gotten loose.
"Fuck," She whispered under her breath.
She didn't expect him to get so agitated. She hasn't had that happen before, which set her alert on high. Fury was the horse that she trained on, and without him, she couldn't hold onto her lesson schedule.
The next one was in twenty minutes, so she needed to figure out a plan on how to catch him.
The first part of the plan was to find the horse that had seemingly run away and out of the gate. Her attention moved back towards the young girl, who had taken off her helmet and seemed to have calmed down just a bit. She rubbed at her elbow that had a bit of a scratch.
"You head back to barn," She told Natasha, "If you see him, holler really loud for me. I'm going to go to the other fields, see if I can catch him."
The young girl agreed, making her way back down to the barns where her mother had been while she took the lesson. She would tell them what had happened, and to make sure they could catch him if he got around.
June started up towards the bison fields– the ranch handlers had been up there just a few moments prior to the incident, and she may have an idea of where the horse had run to. The property was large, almost three hundred acres of land. But, with the number of trees and wooded miles, it would be harder to catch him than it was with the open spaces.
The Forte ranch was surrounded by mountainous regions, which was good for the bison and the elk that were seemingly farmed in the area. June's family kept bison and yak, which was separate to the ranches out in the southwest. Their ranch was green and grassy, surrounded by lakes and streams with glaciers and chilly mornings.
The summer heat didn't always feel like summer, which was what made the mornings so delightful. It was June's favorite parts about the lifestyle of working outside, she felt like there was so much more to see and so much more to take in. It was her own sense of meditation.
"Hey," June called out to the two men sitting on the fences. "Did you see my horse run by? He threw my rider off and fled, and I didn't really see where he went."
The two men seemingly similar looked at one another before shaking their head, practically ignoring her as they continued to haul a few bales of hay into a truck that was backed up to the fence. "Sorry, hon, no."
June placed her hands in her back pockets before she stared at them for a moment. "Okay, well, he's black. Long white stripe down his nose, kinda pink on the end. His name is Fury, but he doesn't usually respond," She blinked a few times, starting to ramble as she thought for a moment, "Probably why he's being a pain in the ass."
She could tell that the men were seemingly uncaring for her request, so she sniffled out of awkwardness before her boots started to move her to the other end of the field.
A good thirty minutes flew by as she walked along the edges of the property, whistling softly for any sight of where the horse could've gone. The sudden sound of clicking made her head turn towards the wooded area; a strike of fear spooking her as she turned. It wasn't that she feared being on her own, but something about being vulnerable ate away at her.
Her heart instantly dropped as she saw two horses, one ridden and the other being held close by the familiar leather reins. The rider in question familiar as she felt her lips quirk up in a smirk at the look on the man's face. She released the breath she had been holding in.
"Think you're supposed to stay on the horse, not let him run away." The deep voice teased. He had been holding the reins of Fury while riding his own.
"He threw my rider," She told him, "I was trying to make sure that she was okay, and he ran off."
"She was quite young," He commented, obviously seeming a bit worried now. He slowed his horse down, the horse standing in front of June as she went to pet down the mare's nose. It crossed her mind that he had noticed her earlier, possibly been staring. "Was she okay?"
June shrugged, nodding. "No broken bones. Maybe a bit of broken spirit."
"You know what they say," He licked over his lip, "Gotta' get back in the saddle." It was then that a smile broke on his face, which halted her breath at the beauty of it.
She laughed at his dry humor, raising her brows. "They do say that, but I'm going to have to do a bit more training with him. He needs to be better for younger riders."
Harry threw the reins over his horse's head, June caught them in her own grip. She looked back up at him again with a small smile. "I appreciate your help– catching him and all that."
"Pretty good portion of my job," He told her, turning the horse a bit so he could face her better.
June had started to lead the horse back in the direction of where the ring and the barn were before Harry stopped her with his words.
"C'mon, hop on," He told her, shifting in his saddle, "We're almost a mile away. You don't want to have to walk."
June's eyes shifted a bit as she pulled at Fury's lead, walking backwards as she thinks about his request for a moment. It catches her off guard, but she shakes her head.
"I think I can walk," She assures him him with a chuckle. He sways a bit in the saddle as he starts after them, obviously going in the same direction.
"Didn't say you couldn't," He remarks back, June hears his tone and looks back instantly, watching his eyes lay on her. Her stomach dropped at the way his gaze felt; his words playing off the sharpness of his jaw, "Also wasn't looking for an answer, just action."
June eyed him for a moment, almost a stand off from her spot on the ground. She inhaled sharply before she bit the inside of her cheek. She didn't understand the feeling in her chest that had anchored its way down to a bit of heat. The authoritative speaking of his voice made her swallow.
"But what if I wanted to walk?"
June watches the twitch of his face when she denied him– when she didn't do as he asked. When she didn't succumb to his request; which, she was learning was more of a nice way to demand rather than request.
The man slipped off the saddle, moving away from the mare before he was now standing in front of June with her hair pulled from her face. The freckles on her nose were surrounded by a bit of sun-kiss, which the man took as a reward for being so close. His eyes trained in her for a moment before he noticed the hitch in her breath as they were toe to toe.
June subconsciously took a small step back before she felt the touch of his hand on her wrist. Her eyes stayed along the collar of the navy t-shirt that seemed a bit pulled at the collar. While a contrast to the white tank he wore yesterday, this accentuated the bronze of his skin from working out in the summer heat. The warmth of the summer sun has bronzed him, leaving the ink of his arms darker in contrast.
He took a package out of his back pocket, the cigarette between his fingers and dangling from his mouth now as his bright green eyes have a playful lift to them. She watches him teasingly as he lets it dangle from his tongue before placing one on her lip too, waiting for her lip to catch it.
She doesn't tell him that she only smokes when she can't sleep, or when she's stressed out by something her family has said. But she doesn't say anything, just sends him a smirk as they stand toe to toe. His fingers snap the lighter to his, hers next as he takes a draw.
"Anyone looking for you?" His voice was as smooth as leather as he kept his eyes directed to the way her cheeks sunk into breath in the smoke.
"Probably." She responds, drawing her lips between her teeth. She felt the stare down but folded as soon the dimple popped through the right of his cheek. "I have a lesson that should be starting."
He shrugged, "Your horse ran off, nothing you can do."
June went to speak, her head turning towards Fury before Harry looked down the gravel road towards the home– over a mile away like he had mentioned.
Her words got caught in her throat before she can respond, just putting the cigarette up to her lips before she licked her tongue over her bottom lip that had turned into a smile. June bites the inside of her cheek before she looks over Harry who's already moving away from her.
"What're you doing back here?" He asked her, his European accent ringing a bit different, "thought you moved to the city."
Her thoughts ran to the fact that he knew that much about her. She wondered if her dad had mentioned her before, or if he was just paying attention. Either way, her answer to him stayed true.
"I knew I wanted to work my way back here," June told him honestly, "I wanted to work back home. But I need to save some money."
Harry bit his lip as he held the reins of the horse, pulling his over just a bit to start back down the path. It was slow, but it was moving a bit. June knew she was late to her riding session, but she figured it would've been fine anyways– she wasn't going to let her students ride Fury at this point.
"You're young," Harry told her with a chuckle, as if he was trying to explain the world to her, "You've got to explore a bit before moving back home. How do you think I got here?"
June tucked some loose hair behind her ear, "How did you end up here, I mean? It's quite far."
"Five thousand miles, give or take." He tells her, walking alongside her now. They seem to be moving at a slower pace. Either way, Harry knew that he wanted to be next to her.
June took a last draw of her cigarette, throwing it on the gravel. "Way too far for me. I'd miss my family way too much."
Harry flicked the cigarette, the ashes falling a bit before he nodded a few times. "That's because you have a really great family," He looked ahead, chuckling a bit, which June caught before furrowing her brows. "I don't miss my family at all, truthfully. Not much to miss there. So, maybe I just don't get it."
June nodded a few times, understanding the implications and biting her lip at his words. There's silence in the air before she takes in a breath and pressed her lips together then, as if she's trying to find words to help alleviate a pressure that she added in. But, he speaks before she gets a chance to.
"I just think people maybe need to take a few more chances," He says, "Live a little more freely. What's the worst that can happen if you do what you want?"
"Well, most criminals live by that narrative," June tells him, which makes him laugh a little bit at her remarks before she looks at him with the blue eyes that he can't seem to fully grasp could be that color blue.
"Within reason." He adds, and he stops mid step before he watches as she turns to face him at his abrupt stop in the road.
June looks at him, a fluttering feeling in her stomach as his body moves, letting the leather reins go before he stops in front of her again. It's the proximity that sends her thoughts on a tailwind of what could happen next; the adrenaline pushes in her veins as she stares up at him. He's closer now than before, his head has dropped a bit so he can really look at her, but she's acknowledged that, pushing her chin up to make sure she can hear exactly what he's saying.
"Maybe it's the fact that I don't like playing by the rules, though." The smell of the tobacco was filling her nose as they stood so close. His eyes remained deferred from hers, watching the way that the lips and chin were pulling up, almost subconsciously.
"Seems a bit criminal, if you ask me." She teased, tilting her head a bit as she begged him to look at her. 
"I mean," He chuckled, letting his fingers move up to her chin as he took it between them to steady her, "It would be criminal to let you beg any longer. Bit pathetic to watch."
"Not begging." She pushed back, pulling her chin away from his grip, which tightened his jaw. She noticed the way that her defiance made him react, which sped her breathing up.
"Tell your body that, sweets," He bit, "I could say anything, and you'll react to it."
He licked over his lips, watching as she tried her best to stay calm, to keep her breath under control. Her lips were pursed, her stance was trying to stand off a bit, but he could see right through her—he saw that she was trying her best to stand on her own but knew that she would fold right then and there.
It was the game that Harry liked, he liked watching how she would react to him when he spoke to her. She was young, practically ten years younger or so, he could assume—she was so impressionable and the fight for dominance was almost sweet. Harry ached as he watched her try to stand him down and his eyes moved to her lips before they drew up to her eyes, watching the ocean waves of blue.
June pulled away, suddenly. She gave him a smirk before she clicked her tongue to have Fury follow her down the road.
"You think you've got me figured out," She called, looking back over her shoulder. "Not going to work with me, cowboy."
Harry bit the inside of his cheek, watching her walk away. His eyes fell to the way that she walked, seeing the swing of her hips as a tactic to use against him. But, he did what he needed to do. He followed close behind, watching her every move—the silence in their walk back not lost on him.
"Something enticing?" June teased, noticing the way that his eyes had danced over her curves from behind. Harry's eyes lifted just a bit, settling in her eyes before he sent a wink her way.
The silence on the walk back to the barns felt good; it felt understood. It's why they both smiled to themselves, neither one seeing the other.
***
"You think I can really pull him?" June looked at Shelby, "He's older– I don't know, Shel."
"You aren't even seeing the way he looks at you," Shelby said to her friend, taking a swig of her beer. He's not taken his eyes off of her, and somehow June knows that deep inside of her, but she can't bring herself to look back at him. She's a bit timid like that; a sharp tongue when confronted, but a tail between her legs when she thinks of it.
The next night, June had gone out with her friend, Shelby, for a drink. It wasn't lost on her that the town was small. Most everyone knew each other, which made the Friday nights out on the town hard to avoid people you didn't want to see.
You really needed to want to be there, or you would be seen by someone you didn't want to see. June hadn't even thought of it when they went out, that she could possibly see him there. After their encounter yesterday morning, June had kept her distance. Not in a way that she felt was stand-offish, but in a way that felt like she was trying her best to let him come to her.
Dating and flirting weren't new to her, but the idea of playing this game scared her a bit. He wasn't new to this; they weren't trying to figure this out together like she had experienced in college. He was older than her, he had experience with this game.
It scared her a bit, because she didn't know how to handle herself in this type of situation. She wanted to come across as confident, but she knew that he had the opportunity to make her fold.
"You need to be drunker," Shelby stated, pushing her half-empty beer to her, watching as June wrapped her hands around the bottle. It was warm to the touch, not fresh in the slightest. "Let's go to the bar to get more."
June looked at her friend after downing the rest before she fully understood what that meant for her.
Shelby had gotten up, which made June follow her. The strawberry blonde realized without another second to spare that she had walked into the lion's den– eyes were on her as she approached the countertop bar.
One pair of eyes, specifically.
At first, she hadn't recognized him. Without the hat and the dirt-ridden t-shirt, she saw the way that the denim jacket hugged his back. The curls had a bit of bounce to them, and her mouth felt dry as she tried her best to divert her attention away.
But they were almost arm and arm and she had wondered if he would notice.
Of course he had. The scent of cherries and lime only made sense when his attention turned back towards a person who had brushed against him now. He had seen her across the room as soon as she came in with her short skirt and boots. He noticed the way that her waist dipped in with the form-fitting top and the slight curl to her hair.
He sat with his beer in his hand, a rowdy few friends were next to him as he kept his attention on her. June felt heat down her neck as she tried to ignore the staring but started to enjoy the feeling of being seen.
"Two whiskey sours," Shelby leaned across the bar to ask for before June looked at her with confusion, knowing that adding a bit of liquor in the mix would either make it better or worse—she didn't know. Her friend smirked at her, watching the bartender start to assemble their drinks.
June kept to herself for a moment before she heard a stealthy voice next to her. The jolt of her head towards him even surprised her as she licked over her lips at the way that he was looking at her.
"You following me, doll?"
June scoffed; her sharp tongue ready. "You don't think I have better things to do?" She quirked her eyebrow at him; feeling the closeness of them as she stood, and he sat on the barstool under the dim light of the grungy pub.
"No," He shook his head, taking a sip from his bottle before he turned to face her now. She was practically between his legs, his knees on either side of her as she stood closer to him than she thought. "I don't think you do."
He looked the same as he had yesterday morning; he was clean shaven on his cheeks, a bit of scruff on his lip and a twinkle in his eye that was undeniable among the green. A denim jacket covering his shoulders and tattooed arms that were on such display this morning. The hair sat longer on top of his head, just enough to add the definitive addition of chocolate curls.
June could barely look at him without her knees buckling at the bar top. But she took the drink from the bartender with confidence, trying to anchor herself.
"Well, you're wrong." June tells him, taking ahold of the cocktail before taking a sip and trying to play hard to get. A game she knew– a game she played far too often.
Harry watched the way she popped her hip, knowing she did it on purpose.
"I'm never wrong," He bit back, still playful. His eyes met June's, and she didn't dare look away. "So, try again."
June cleared her throat, standing against the bar as she let a breath out. What she hadn't anticipated was the way that his bent knee fell behind her own, pulling her closer between his legs at the busy bar.
June went to speak, a small gasp leaving her lips as she placed her hand on his shoulder as she lost a bit of balance. Her hair fell into his face as she felt herself push away. The smirk on his face only made her blush as she pushed off from him.
"Go on," He urged, "Try again."
She raised her eyebrows, noticing her hand still placed on his shoulder. "What if," She cleared her throat, "It's you who is following me?"
Harry took a sip of his beer, lazily, eyes staying on June as he shook his head softly.
" 'Course I am," He bit his lip, "Who wouldn't?"
His honesty came across, making her feel a bit speechless when she looked at him. She downed a good amount of the whiskey drink quickly, knowing that the quicker it went down, the quicker she'd feel it.
"Looks like what I said about criminal activity seems to be true," She let the straw of the drink rest on her tongue as she looked at him, "You're a bit no good."
"Never denied it," He downed a bit more of his drink before he raised his brow at her, "But you keep coming back, don't you?"
Her tongue rested on the straw, playing with it a little bit as she felt the flirtatious spirit running through her. The cat and the mouse were at their height, now.
"Just gathering all the facts on why I should stay away," She told him, pushing her hair back off of her shoulder. The small top only leaving little to the imagination; Harry tried to hold it together as he swallowed dryly.
"How's that working out for you?" He asked, his hand making its way to her hip as he pulled her a bit closer. June took a step, finding her balance as she stared at him for a moment. He knew the look on her face as he had seen that look a few times before.
A part of him felt the words deeper, which initiated him to reach for his wallet.
"Mind if you let me drive you home?" His voice was thick with a dry, hoarseness that only solidified her position backing into his lap.
June practically melted at his touch, his hand on her hip as she nodded a few times before turning towards him then.
"Don't think that should be a problem." She muttered over the music playing across the bar.
June's eyes found Shelby who was standing at the bar, just a few people over before she winked at them. She moved away, just so that Harry could stand on his feet as she watched the man throw a fifty down on the counter to cover the drinks.
"Drinking fifty dollars' worth and then driving me home?" Her attention turned towards the man as he gave her a lazy smile. "Feels a bit dangerous to get in the car with a drunk stranger."
"Feel like it's my job to pay for you too if I'm getting you to leave your friend to come spend time with me, hm?" Harry walked backwards a bit, reaching for her hand before they reached the door to the bar. "You looked like you were having a good time. But I got something to show you."
Her hand fit into his, her breathing escalating just a bit at the way that he maneuvered her grip, making his stronger instantly as he led them back to the Ford pickup he sport around town.
"I was having a good time," She tells him with a bit of a flirty essence, one that held a bit of attitude as far as he was concerned, "And now you're taking me from it. Wherever you're taking me must be pretty good."
Harry bit on his lip as he sniffles, scrunching his nose at her comment. Her comment only pressing his buttons.
"I'd apologize but I don't know if I'm sorry." He commented, cocking his head.
"You'll only have to apologize if I'm left disappointed–"
When they reached the blue pick-up, his hands instantly grabbed at her hips. They pushed her body into the iron to hold her captive against the side of the truck. It wasn't hard enough to hurt her, but hard enough to ground her. She hoped there'd be a small amount of pain as a reminder of the moment.
"You're not gonna question me, are you?" He asked her with the softest voice; the threat in his tone only heightened her senses as she flinched at the way he spoke.
The inside of her thighs fluttered at his growl of a voice. "N-No," June answered, "No, no, never."
His lips brushed against the side of her ear, pulling his body away from her just for a moment before he nodded and found the moment to understand her.
"Good girl," He praised, moving his hands upwards to her waist. The slim part of her torso melted into a perfect hourglass figure. Her hips were wide and held his sight, but his hands loved the feeling of the curve.
June's breath halted at the way that he held her– at first with a physical grip so tight, and then an invisible string of persistence.
The small pub rested just on the outskirts, in the mountains, but just far enough from the ranch. The radio played lightly; the windows were rolled down as the horizon line were just baring a bit of light.
Harry had driven the truck up to one of the horse barns that sat just close to June's guest house, where she had been staying. It was a bit further on the property, but she drove past it almost every day.
"What are we doing here?" She questioned him before he opened the door. He went to the other side to help her out, taking her hand as she jumped down. He had taken her waist in his hands to help her, the touch of him on her was enough to make her breathing hitch.
"Have something to show you, I told you." He said, taking her hand in his as he led her back up to the darkened barn. When they arrived at the open door, he flickered on a switch that gave the large space a bit of light.
When they both walked into the small barn, the only lights were overhead, the sound of the crickets chirping filled the silence. June followed Harry's lead before she noticed that they stopped at the stall at the end of the row, down closer to the tack room.
"Here we are," Harry nodded, leaning his arms on the side of the stall gate. When June turned towards the mother horse and baby that were laying on the ground before them. She felt her heart melt at the sight of the small, brown foal that had two white spots on the top of its forehead.
"Oh my god," She gasped, watching as Harry smiled at her surprise. "Aren't they the sweetest thing?"
"He was born this morning," Harry leaned against the gate, watching the two horses on the ground before he turned back to June. The mare simply in awe of the small baby, seemingly tired as she laid next to him. "Needs a name."
"The ranch has a history of naming them after the stars, you know," June tells him, walking over to the little foal. His legs tucked under him, two bright white spots perfectly in the middle of his forehead.
June leans down a bit, hesitant not to scare him. Her hand reaches out to pet the small foal before she runs over hand over the white spots.
"Well, mum is Forager of Stardust," He tells her, keeping against the gate with his arms crossed, "So, we'll keep it in the family."
June starts to giggle as she turns back to Harry, eyes wide, "Ziggy Stardust– hands down, has to be."
"Ziggy Stardust? Alright, then. Sounds like a perfect name to me." Harry questions with a laugh; his smile becoming a bit more than the typical lazy one he likes to sport. June noticed that the crinkles by his eyes were a bit more defined, her nods insinuating her answer.
June turned back to the little foal before watching as his dark brown eyes blinked a few times with the lashes so long and fluttered. Her heart was built from the small creatures around the farm, the life that had been put into this lifestyle.
It reminded her of the sweetness; the parts of her life that continued to only get better the older she got and the more she enjoyed the peacefulness of simplicity.
This was it– this was the simplicity she craved. The rebirth, the gentle touches that reminded her of what life really was all about. She loved watching the ranch run on its own, watching as it grew everyday with small details.
Harry had moved towards a bale of hay that sat in the corner, taking a seat on it as he leaned against the stable wall. He watched June nuzzling the foal before she turned her head towards him again. He gave her a tilted smirk, dimple pressing into his cheek as he watched the nurturing love that nestled out of her.
"Did you grow up on a farm?" She asked, looking back at him before standing up from her spot. She managed to make her way through the tall stable hay before taking a seat on the bale with him. The small spot was snug, but neither of them seemed to mind.
"I did," He nodded a few times, "But it was a lot different. Sheep and goat, mostly. England is also a bit flatter, so it was a lot easier to ride than it is here. But I just figured that this would be a bit of an adventure."
"Think you made a good choice?" June asked, crossing her arms as her legs settled straight out just like his.
Harry raised his brows before he felt that he couldn't stop himself from smiling all the sudden. He wanted to believe that the few beers had something to do with it, hours ago now, but he knew that it wasn't. His eyes were downcast as he started to nod a few times.
"The views here are incredible." He answered, looking up at her, "But the scenery around here is good, too."
June nodded a few times, sniffling.
Harry decided to return the question, looking back at her. "Do you think you made the right choice coming back home? Assuming you liked the city, I guess."
June shrugged her shoulders, knowing that being home was always difficult in some capacity. She loved her family, loved the ease of being able to go places and knowing exactly what to expect. Home seemed to be a place that was easily accessible to her, all the time. Her family would always bring her back—she always knew that she could lean on them without an issue or judgement of feeling pressured to leave.
"I think I made the right choice to come home and to do what feels easy right now," She nodded a few times, "I think coming home from college is scary because you're like," She shrugged, "You feel like you don't have a direction anymore. You're in school practically your whole life—it's all you know. And then to think that you could go somewhere else and live a new life after that. It's just a lot. They're letting me stay in the guesthouse until I can get my bearings."
Harry understood, to some degree. But he was the opposite—if it wasn't new, it wasn't exciting. He wanted to see new things and to not see the same view twice. It meant that you weren't settled, even though the idea of settling wasn't bad. It was just different.
"It's probably good to know that you have a space in the world somewhere," He agreed, settling a bit, "I understand that. I didn't go to college, but I get that you want to feel like you're... you. And you're not having to reintroduce yourself to a new place or new people."
"My family knows exactly who I am," She smiled, "And that's what I want right now."
That was the truth—June wanted to just stay here until she was able to get her own place, maybe down the road. She could have the best of both worlds—one day she'd be able to live on her own, but still be able to stay connected to the place that felt so close to her heart. Teaching riding lessons was her only income, but it helped pay her loans and aided in her weekend ventures with her friends, specifically Shelby.
There wasn't much more she could have wanted now. Happiness seemed to manifest itself in the little things.
But, of course, after the small incident with Fury yesterday morning, she didn't know that she would have been able to trust him. It felt that there was more she could do about it, but she knew that his outbursts had been due to her lack of maintaining his trust and boundaries. He was also just an asshole half the time, and it wasn't something that she could put up with if he continued.
June sighed a bit, thinking of it when she noticed that Harry had taken interest in her sudden displeasure.
"What's wrong?" He asked. She blinked a few times, watching as he seemed to understand that her sigh was of annoyance.
"Well, I'm not going to be able to give anymore lessons until I can get Fury figured out," She shook her head, watching the man as he listened to her quandary. "I have to get him straightened out or I'll have to get another horse ready just to train on, and work with Fury until then."
Harry bit the inside of his cheek as he let his eyes move to the side, seeing if he would get the reaction he was looking for.
"Bet you're a real good rider, huh?" He teased, poking his tongue into the side of his cheek as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Probably give good lessons, too."
June pulled her lips into her mouth to keep from the smirk that was approaching, but she rolled her eyes instead. "What a line."
"I'm just asking!" He lifted his hands in defense as he chuckled out a bit, "Was maybe looking into some lessons to help you out."
Their outstretched legs bumped into one another as she pulled at bent knee up to hug into her chest. "I charge a hefty fee."
Harry shrugged, running his hand through his hair. The unruly curls were a bit out of control as he sniffled gently at the way that the hay tickled his nose. "I'll pay up-front."
June shifted her jaw as she licked over her lips. It was a bit dangerous, this game that they were playing. But she had an idea in her brain that she was going to take his advice.
What was the worst that could happen?
She sat up, back straight. Her eyes were downcast as she looked over at him, then. He didn't know how to respond to her stare before he felt the way that she pushed her knee over his lap. Her hands steadily placing on his shoulder as he looked up at her with a smirk that said all of the words that she desperately needed to hear.
"Alright, then," She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, "Let me give you a lesson or two, cowboy." Her hips sank into his pelvis, pushing gently with the added pressure as she took a seat like he had inquired for.
Harry sat up a bit straighter, watching as she straightened up, too. Her skirt flowed over her thighs as he let his hands place on the outside of her hip for helping her balance. A smirk coated her blushing cheeks as she tucked her hair behind her ear in a nervous habit.
"I'm already learning so much," He teased her, waiting for her to make another move. She thought she may have a grasp on how to approach him but became nervous as she started to take charge. It was evident to him as she settled into his lap, but he loved the initiative.
They faced one another and she bit her lip at the way that he talked to her. He paid attention to her, let his hands get to know her before he pressed further.
"Dare you to kiss me, though." He said to her, watching as she gave him a look of confusion. She chuckled at him, as she shook her head, but he just smirked, "No one can pass up a dare."
She did exactly as he had dared, pressing down so their lips met. It was like finding water in the desert as she immediately pushed forward, needing more as soon as she got a taste. Her hips rolled at the feeling of his hand making its way to the back of her neck, almost like he was guiding her closer. He was showing her what she needed without words.
The kiss allowed him to press his tongue into her mouth which elicit a whimper from her, his cock straining underneath the jeans that she had been pressing on. He followed, letting his own whimper strain out at the thought of her pressed against him. The skirt not allowing anything between them except the panties he imagined she'd have on.
Deepening the kiss, he pulled her hips forward just enough that he was allowing her hips to ride into him. The coolness of his belt made her shiver, her thighs immediately reacting to the touch.
"You wanna let me take the reins?" He offered, his voice deep and raw as he felt the closeness of them. Her back arched into him, his words giving her a break as she nodded fervently.
"Please?" She asked, practically pleading.
It didn't take any longer before he threw his arm around her, picking her up into his lap as he found the grounding of his feet. Swiftly, he held her up on his waist as she wrapped her legs around his middle, holding on as they pressed their way through the barn.
The small tack closet next to the stable was the closest they got before he threw open the door and led them in.
Harry threw her on the table, letting her sit as he continued to let his lips fall over her again and again. With her help, his hands pulled the denim off of his arms and back, pieces of clothing seem to fall off easily.
He gently allowed his hand to move to the inside of her thigh, pressing down a bit to gauge her reaction.
Her skin was hot, his eyes were down as he guided his hand to the place that she needed him most.
"Please, please," She continued to plead, his ears ringing from the way that she needed. It was so innocent and cute, almost like she hadn't any idea how badly he could wreck her.
"Turn around." He demanded, pulling away just enough to give her room to move. When she didn't, all he saw was a deer in headlights, watching him for a moment like she didn't know what he was asking of her. She swallowed, licking over her lips as she got to her feet.
Her slow movement initiated him to grab her by the hips to turn her around quickly. His hand pressed on her back, pushing her to her elbows on the deck of the tack room.
"When was the last time you were fucked?"
Her throat was tight just at the words that left his mouth; her breathing racing as she anticipated the quickness of this. She had been waiting for it; hoping he'd understand she had been quietly asking for this.
"Been a while," She answered breathlessly, her legs pushed apart as he stood behind her. The flow of the skirt barely covered over her ass before he pushed it up to reveal it all. "N-Not that long."
His eyes grew three sizes larger as he took in the detail of the black lace that lay over her milky skin.
Harry pulled himself down, letting his knees sink to the ground. His eyes were level with the lace as he quickly let his fingers rest on the waistband, pulling them off of her and down her thighs.
She gasped at the feeling, his eyes never leaving.
"Goddamn," He commented, his thumb pressing softly into her. She jerked forward at the initial contact, eyes shutting as she leaned into his touch. "Knew it," He chuckled, "Knew you'd get yourself wet for me."
His thumb moved out slowly, her reaction exactly what he wanted. She pulled back with him, wanting to be filled– he knew exactly where he needed to get her.
"Needy," He berate, his words having a bit of edge. Her eyes flickered open as she gasped at the feeling of his hand slapping the harness of her skin. His thumb removed as he spanked her again, lurching her forward. "So fucking greedy."
Her knees trembled at the feeling, left untouched as he stood behind her. The sound of his belt made her eyes shut as he undid the button on his jeans and smirked at the way she settled underneath him.
"Don't mind that we don't have a condom, right?" He asked, his hand moving to the reddened spot on her skin that she ached took feel again. He smirked, knowing the words he would say would only make her a bit restless. "Can wait if you really need me to."
Her head turned around, her lips a bit raw from where she had been nibbling on it.
"No," She shook her head, "No– no. I'm safe, we're okay." She pleaded, and his smirked lifted at her neediness.
His hands pulled on her hips to arch just a bit for him. June quickly felt the teasing way his tip pressed against her soaked cunt, her hands turned white knuckled as she gripped tightly onto the wood. It was just the feeling alone– she hadn't even seen him, but her anticipation was high.
"Just letting you know," He pressed the tip right into the softness between her, giving her a sensation of euphoria just from how turned on she had been. She let out a moan, her eyes shutting. "We play by my rules. When I say down, you go down. When I say suck, you suck. No backtalking. I'm giving you the best fuck of your life, so you listen to me to get what I know you want. Got it?"
He hadn't even given her a reason to moan, her words caught in her throat as she nodded with. A subtle whimper— the strawberry blonde hair flinging over her shoulder as he moved it away. His lips found their home on the back of her neck, sucking gently at the skin.
"You're going to be such a good girl, though, aren't you? You would never disobey me, huh?" He cooed; his lips continued to ravish at her hair line as she threw her head back in an ache to feel the pleasure he was offering.
June's hips moved back gently, but his hands gripped at her before she could push herself onto him. The slight action gave him a sense of power; his hand smacking onto the curve of her.
The cracking sound familiar to one of a whip— she gasped at the feeling, her eyes closing shut just at the pain that radiated in such a burning sensation.
"Fuck," She whispered, knowing that she was simply dripping at the need. She had never been in a position of such need— she had never needed someone to give her what she needed in such a way that it brought tears to her eyes just to think about it. "I-I'm sorry— I—"
"I'm not." He stated, his breath hot on her neck. A coolness laying underneath—the metal of the cross hitting at her shoulder when he grabbed her hips towards him. When he pushed in, it took a fluid motion before they both moaned out in pleasure. It was a shock of intensity that Harry had truly never felt before.
Sure, he'd been in this position before— but like this? He had been with beautiful women, seen beautiful things. But the enticing scent of wildflowers and sweet vanilla only flourished as his nose brushed the softness of her shoulder.
Harry tried to keep his composure— trying to follow the red behind his eyes, but suddenly feeling the urge to cum at any moment which made him a bit nervous at the quick build-up. It was exceptionally better than he had expected; he had been more turned-on than he had thought.
His forehead rested on her shoulder blade; the small strap of her tank-top the only small detail that was between his forehead and her skin. Harry bit his lip slightly as he wondered when he would be ready to pull out to continue fucking her into an oblivion that would send her to the stars.
But he felt incredibly, incredibly close to the edge just at the initial feeling of her. He grunted in a bit of frustration as he shook his head to try to clear all the thoughts that had gathered there. The curls of his hair fell into his eyes as he shook his head. His hands kneaded into the fleshy skin that curved over the small skirt that still rested on her thighs. He had just pushed it up enough to give himself access to what he really needed.
Focus, he thought to himself.
"You are so goddamn tight," He watched as her back arched a bit at his words. Her chin turned to the side, just enough where he could now see her side profile. Her eyes were shut, mouth parted in a small, dainty way. "No one's fucked you in a while, have they, darling? You lie to me?"
Harry pulled himself out just a bit, watching where they connected as he felt himself slip back in. The tightness surrounding him made his eyes clamp shut. She felt incredible to him on every level that he couldn't think of anything else that moment.
It was dizzying.
"N-No, not like you— not like this," June muttered. The way that her hands gripped over the table in the tack room was almost pain to her fingertips. "You're so deep, fuck."
The sound of her voice elicits a response of his hips bucking into her, the rasp and grunt of June's voice painted a beautiful picture in his memory.
"You like me deep like that?"  Harry licked over his lips, eyes moving down her body as he moved his leg to her thigh. "Pull this up on the table— go on," He urged, "it'll be good for you."
June felt the pat on her thigh, Harry's hands slid the remaining clothes down her legs to leave her completely free on the bottom. He pulled out for a moment to help her lift her leg, balancing herself as she felt suddenly empty without him filling her up.
Watching as she lifted her leg on the table, pushing herself up, Harry dropped to his knees as he took in what he saw. A certain hunger elicits his eyes as he grabbed onto the back of her thighs, spreading them apart. In an instant, she felt the spit on her already dripping cunt as his mouth attached to her almost like it was made for his lips to wrap around.
Her head drew back at the feeling of his mouth on her, the knot in her stomach was undoubtedly loosening as she felt the nudge of his tongue against her clit; the feeling of his nose gracing her. In the last twenty-four years, she had never been blessed with a partner that would have given her the opportunity to feel this way. She had never been with an older man before, either.
Maybe her innocence had been brushed away by the complete raging needs of his wandering hands.
Either way, she didn't know if she could get any better than this. The softness of his tongue with a stiff edge and control, the scruff of his upper lip taunting her as he spread her thighs further apart while his mouth took her from behind.
"Could ruin you in so many ways." Harry hummed, his tongue dripping from her arousal that coated it. "You want me to ruin you, doll?"
Her hair fell into her face as she nodded fervently, her hand pushing the locks away as she tried to catch a glimpse of him but leaned forward instead.
"Yes— I want you to ruin me, please." Her voice was a shy, timid tone but it held all of the power of her needs. He knew exactly what she needed, and he would gladly give her every bit of it.
Harry immediately felt the words go straight to his cock; the feeling of arousal only tempting him further and further. What was it about this girl that gave him such an issue? He hadn't always been so easy to please, but something about the way that she moved her hips, her small movements only made him want to be rougher.
A girl that didn't know what she wanted was always the best— it was the moment when she found exactly what she was looking for, but never knew how to express it that made him cum the hardest. Harry wanted to push every ounce of her until she was begging for it.
June lurched forward just a bit as he stood back up from his position, moving to enter her once again. The slickness of his spit mixed with her arousal created the perfect lubrication that guided his swiftly back into her.
Deeper this time— much deeper. He held onto her thighs, pushing his hips into her at a steadier rate as the soft hums of her whimpers started to go deeper and become significantly more adulterated versions of moans. He felt the way he slipped in and out of her like she had been made to pleasure him.
"Keep quiet," He urged, "You're going to get us into trouble if someone hears us."
"I want them to hear how good you're fucking me," She urged, a whimper coming out as he slowed his motions to tease her further. "Fucking me so good."
He leaned in a bit close to her ear, pulling back her neck as her body contorted to meet his needs. She was in his grasp, only moving in the way that he needed her to. His hand pulled at her throat; the coolness of his undone belt buckle was against her thigh as he pushed in completely to get as close to her as possible.
The moan that escaped her lips was cut short by the hand that cupped over her mouth, which only pushed her further.
"You're going to be quiet or I'm going to pull out, do you understand me?" His voice was deep, low, and cold as she shut her eyes to the sound of it. She felt the push of two of his fingers into her mouth, a surprise at first. "Brats get punished and I'm going to leave your little cunt wanting more if you don't listen."
June hadn't felt this way in years— there had never been a man to satisfy the needs that had been built up in this way. It really hadn't been that long since she hooked up with someone, but she had never felt this way in her entire life. She had never felt this full— this satisfied. It was extraordinarily rough— it was to the point where she hadn't ever known a pleasure like this before.
She couldn't have imagined this.
"You understand?"  He says finally; she hadn't recognized that he had truly been waiting for a response before continuing. She had concluded that his pleasure was aided with being in charge. June couldn't understand the way that she became extremely, unbelievably pleasant for him. A few more thrusts pushed her to the brink of extraordinary delight before she dipped her head at the throbbing feeling between her legs.
"I understand— I do, I do, fuck– fuck." She whimpered out, unaware of the way that his thrusts had pushed on her enough that her muscles involuntarily ached as her orgasm became all the sudden wet— a solid gasp releasing her lips as she felt him pull out just at the feeling.
Harry's eyes darkened to a color of coal before he watched her inevitably drip down her own legs, the sight only causing his own mind to fall to a place of filth and absolute insanity. The gushing liquid was only a sight that he never thought he'd see like that– especially from her.
The innocent act was truly just an act.
"Jesus Christ," He commented under his breath, a bit taken by the sight. He choked back for a moment before he looks at the way he left her cunt dripping with need over the dark brown boots that had pushed her legs open. "So, fucking messy, aren't you?"
He watched the way that June's breathing heaved for a moment before he let his hand run down her spine— almost like she had been a bit surprised, like she hadn't expected her body to do anything like that.
Harry paused for a moment, watching to make sure that she was okay. Even in the rough moments, he watched to see if she seemed alright— his head tilting a bit as he hadn't heard anything else from her. A small coax from his hand on the small of back made him pause for a moment.
"Hey," He spoke quietly, "You're okay, doll, hm?"
June felt extremely exhausted already, almost like her body had started to fail her with how her legs trembled in this position. Her head turned back to look at him, a small nod coming from her without any words as she tried to find herself back in the moment.
It was an odd feeling in his chest as he started to feel an ache that went from extremely vile— filthy as he fucked this girl against the tack closet desk, to a sense of vulnerability that he made have started to push her a bit further than she was ready for. She didn't know it until her body was giving her pleasure that she hadn't felt before.
In an attempt to aid in some relief, especially to the legs that shook a bit more than a small foal, he pulled June back to a standing position. Her confusion on her face was obvious before Harry grabbed her by the waist to place her on the end of the desk instead. The skirt that had been pulled around her thighs had been pulled down completely.
"Get you off your legs so I can finish you off without you falling out on me," He told her with a sly smile, "Anyone ever made you feel this good?"
He watched the girl— completely wrecked with a face of pure softness. Her eyes were dazed, her attention stayed on him as he she shook her head. He felt better that she was conscious, even if he had taken practically everything from her.
"I can tell," He tells her softly before he tucks the hair out of her face, "Sorry you've been so deprived," Harry comments, "Would've done it for you sooner, if I would have known. Good thing I know now, hm? Won't let this happen again, angel, promise.
The feeling of their lips presses together as June grabs at her thigh so that Harry can move into the position between her legs once again. His tongue tastes like tobacco, a hint of the gum that he had been chewing.
Harry pressed the tip of his cock back into her to finish what he had started. His muscles ached in his abdomen as he felt himself tense at the feeling through a few more thrusts as he faced her now.
"Feels so, so good," June's words had whimpered out of her, a bit surprising at how quiet she had been and started to become even more so. "I-I'm— it's— fuck. Please, please more."
Harry's hands had made their way to her hips, making sure she had been pulled completely to the front of the desk so that he could feel her deeper. His vision moved down to the place where they connected; a hint of heat on the back of his neck as he thought of the moment more intrinsically.
"C'mon," He coaxed, their noses brush as he lets his forehead rest against hers. His breathing hitched for a moment as he felt her hand move to grab at his bicep. "C'mon, give me one more. You can do it."
His hips snapped further into her; June breathed into his mouth with a hot gasp as she screwed her eyes shut at the feeling of his cock nudging at a place that elicit such a firework of intensity that she hadn't ever felt before. It didn't matter how many college nights, bar hookups, serious relationships— none of those had the control that Harry had over her.
This was a feeling that he had crafted to ensure that the other person felt extraordinarily vulnerable and taken. She recognized that she wasn't the first, and certainly wouldn't be the last. 
She was okay to just be his right now.
"Mm," She bit on her lip at the thought of what had caused her to be sent over the edge prior. She wanted to know what to ask for; she didn't know what she needed, but she was certainly going to try. "W-Want you to...to c-call me a slut," she said with a small voice, just heard between them. Her eyes had turned away from him with a sheepish-shy feeling. "Need it."
Harry paused for a moment before he let his hand move to underneath her chin, propping her up to look into his eyes. He needed her to say it to him— needed to see her embarrassed and shy, wanting him to treat her like a one-night rather than a forever.
"I only call it like it is," He tells her with a grin carved like a devil, "I just have to call you a slut so you drench my cock? Is that it?" He knew he had to push her further, get her to a place in her head where she felt sexy, where she felt loose to the point of unraveling. "Letting me fuck you in a little closet on your daddy's ranch— such a pretty little brat." 
"Fuck me," She whined, knowing that her words would travel if she were any louder. "I-I'm gonna–"
"Do it." He coaxed.
Just at the sound of his words, he could feel the way that she unwound herself— simply, he didn't recognize that his words really did have the effect. His lips part as he watched her body fully shake with a convulsion the wetness coated his front with a small spray of her. Drenching his clothes and their boots as they sat with gasping breaths, he stared at the way that her pussy reacted to him, wondering how his words affected her so easily.
She was wrecked.
"That's such a good fucking girl," Harry told her softly, pressing himself back in, nodding fervently as he reassured her. Her cry was let out of the feeling of sensitivity that came after her explosive orgasm.
His hand placed on the back of her neck, pulling her forward a bit as he snapped his hips harder into her so that he could reach a place of pure euphoria. He couldn't begin to replay the actions of her pretended innocence, wondering if he would ever get to see anything like it agan. "Not going to last—fuck."
In an instant, his muscles tensed with an aching feeling that pushed his hips deeper into hers. Harry's lips placed themselves on her neck, kissing at the spots with a gentle softness—he knew what he had been in for in this intense, heated hook-up, but his cock had found a ferocious love for finishing inside of her all of the sudden.
It was all encompassing.
"Shit– shit." He hadn't even thought of the repercussions of not having the condom but needing to be careless for a few moments of time. He fell into her grip, holding onto her softly as he felt their breathing becoming less heavy.
June's legs were wrapped around his hips like an anchor, her head sat heavy on his shoulder as he mustered up the courage to pull away. He didn't really want to pull out completely, knowing it felt too good to let his cock feel the tight confines of her walls.
He slowly pulled his hips back, letting the mess fall out with him.
"Oh, fuck." He muttered under his breath, watching the display of a horribly sexual sight. One that someone would pay money to see. "I've never felt anything like that."
The way that she breathed against the wall, up on the table. Her eyes were shut as she held herself up and wondered if her choices had been worth it. She blinked a few times, almost like her body was now shutting down after the intensity of their passionate love affair.
Harry waited for her to respond to him, to look at him. He watched as her chest raised and lowered, knowing she was still breathing, but seemed to be missing from behind her eyes.
"Hey," He pulled her back from against the wall, whispering to her sweetly as he felt himself breathing a bit fast, too. "C'mon, doll, we should go clean up. I think we can sneak out the back."
Her movements felt heavy as Harry tried his best to bring her back to her feet. When he felt that she was steady enough, he let go of her to place his jeans and belt back into place, watching her shakily redress herself. The quietness of the small tack closet didn't hinder them, as Harry placed a kiss along her cheek before he let his hands fall on the doorknob.
"I'll go first and then you can follow me," He tells her, watching her nod in agreement. "Front door or back door?" He asks, in reference to the small guest house that June had been staying in. Her breathing had finally fallen into place. The desperation of need still on her eyes, which only excited him to get her back alone.
"Back." She tells him, quietly. Using her words wasn't so bad, but her legs became a bit unsteady, so she held onto the table behind her.
Before he opens the door, Harry gives her a quick once over. His eyes land on her lips before he steps forward to leave a kiss along her pout, letting her sink into him once again. The taste of her instantly feeds him as he groans into the feeling.
It was about time he found the feeling everyone told him he should be looking for. It was a myth for so long, but just in the way that he lips melted into his was enough to make to him blush. Her hands in his hair at the back of his neck, the feeling of her nails along his jaw settled his need for the moment before he pulled back and gave her another peck.
"Don't be too long," He told her, "Don't want to have to wrangle you back to me." 
She smirked at his challenge as he opened the door to slip out. Her eyes shut at the way moved, closing the door behind him. A settled feeling in her chest only made her stumble back just a bit, letting herself rest on the table before she took in a solid breath.
Home had seemingly never felt so right.
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loveforbrave · 3 months
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girls be like “i know a spot” and then take you here
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