#1d smut imagines

[lilystyles]

you are in love.

written by @lilystyles

my masterlist xx & style masterlist

authors note PART FOUR!!! sorry it took so long to update, i think i'll have to do a fifth chapter to wrap up how i want!! please forgive me by enjoying all this filthy smut and hopefully more from me soon. i'd love some feedback or suggestions for part five so drop them in the asks angels. XX

brief description y/n is living her teenage dream, and despite the snow harry has never felt so warm.

warnings! slight age gap, smut (f! receiving, sex, daddy kink, slight choking, m! receiving, all the usual! romantic asf thoooo) kissing, mentions of drugs and alcohol abuse. (wordcount: 13k!!)

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

* * * * *

It was late on a Thursday night, and the evening sky was a dark blanket over the world. Everyone was asleep, including the sun.

Y/n’s street was silent. The suburban area was normally loud due to the streets of houses full of loud University students, but tonight, they had left it like a ghost town, and the evening air was eerily silent. Outside the large brick home, the stars twinkled above the streets and clean-cut yards. Tonight’s half-crescent moon shone down through Y/n’s big window as she slept peacefully in bed.

Her face was soft like a cherub, lips tugged in a pout, long lashes kissing at her cheeks. She looked beautiful, even now in the middle of a deep slumber as soft snores escaped her. Tonight, she had fallen asleep early at eight PM like a little kid, so worn out from the past few weeks, she’d had exam after exam, assignments due, and so many lectures to attend. She had one class tomorrow, her Psych class, and was mentally preparing to deal with the lunatic lecturer by having an early night. He was seriously unhinged, and a really harsh-grader.

Y/n had been dreaming of hazy roses and swirls of flannelette shirts, and oddly the smell of vanilla, mint, and tobacco overtook her senses despite being fast asleep, just moments before she woke up with a gasp. 

A chill ran up her spine, god it was freezing in here. Startled and still confused as to whether or not she was dreaming she opened her eyes. A loud bang on her window had been what woke her. 

Oh god! Is this like horror movies where the hot young university student gets murdered by a masked man? 

Her heart thumped wildly in her chest at the possibility. She sat up knuckling her eyes messily, and peering down from her window. On her knees, she was just tall enough to see what had made the noise, which was probably stupid of her to do. Because if it really was some axe murderer with a thing for sleeping girls they’d see her.

With a confused, tired smile, she realised it wasn’t a murderer. No, it was her boyfriend, Harry.

Looking over at her alarm clock it read 1:47 AM. She scratched her head looking down at him. He was standing down by the front yard, a red flannel shirt over his form, under a big football jacket from the Uni team, and considering it was freezing Y/n wondered how he wasn’t shivering in just those few layers. 

She thought for a moment that this would be a fond memory of him, one she might tell her children about her first proper boyfriend, her first love. The boy next door. She opened the window, leaning out, and instantly felt cold howling wind pelt her skin. 

“Styles! What are doing?!” She whisper-shouted. Not wanting to wake her roommates who were all probably awake studying for final exams anyway. 

She must be dreaming, because when he saw her this smile overtook his face, dimples popping and pink landing on his cheeks as he lifted his hand to show a bundle of red roses. A big pink bow wrapped around them and his tattooed hand gripped them tightly.

He looked like something of her dreams, she’d wished for a romance like this, spending nights cooped up reading about boys like Harry who made romantic gestures in the middle of the night. Wishing for a life all as magical as those fairytales. One full of excitement and passion, but also one that was real. She always felt real around Harry.

“Trouble, get some shoes on!” He whispered back lifting his arms dramatically, the jacket straining against his muscles.

She furrowed her brows. “Do you realise what time it is, Crazy?”

Harry smiled up at her, god he’d be the death of her, that smile. It made her stomach curl dangerously, butterflies rippling inside her. “Just get some shoes on, and something warm. C’mon, Baby, thought y’were a bad girl now.” He teased, thinking back to that night in the kitchen.

She rolled her eyes at him shutting the window, as she tried to quietly potter around her room. Finding her pale pink tracksuit pants on her floor, and a thick matching crewneck, she left her thin white singlet on underneath, putting on a random long-sleeve from the floor over it, and the knickers she’d gone to sleep in. Before digging around to find the Ugg boot that paired with the one in her hand.

When she was ready she snuck downstairs and outside. Harry perked up at the sound of gravel crunching. 

Y/n, god she was pretty. His heart thumped heart, heat creeping up his neck at the sight of her.

Hair in a long plait at the back of her head, skin all soft from her skincare, and a puddle of pink covering her, and despite the faux-frown on her face he knew she was excited to see him as he was to see her. He rushed over pulling her into a hug close to his chest. She smelled good, like the lavender spray she used on her bed for a good night’s sleep, and he planted a kiss on her head.

Picking her up in the hug and spinning her around. “Hi, Trouble.”

Feet off the ground she squealed quietly in surprise. He was so warm, and he smelt so good.

She looked up at him as he slowly placed her back onto her feet, arms still around his neck. Grabbing the flowers he offered to her as a pink rushed up her neck, “You are crazy, Styles, what are you even doing here?”

“I missed you, what was I supposed to do?” He said leaning down close, and Y/n brushed their noses together, before standing on the tips of her toes as she connected their lips. His firm grip on her waist fell to the curve of her plump ass. Squeezing her closer into his firm chest and warmth.

It was a chaste, gentle kiss, she hadn’t seen him since the weekend of that party. They’d called every day since though. 

When she pulled away, a big grin overtook her face, one of his hands fell into hers as he pulled her down to where his car was. Opening the door for her, he made sure she was tucked inside before gently shutting it and walking around the other door. Y/n noticed in his little cup holder her pink scrunchie was there and a strawberry lip mask she’d lost was sitting beside it.

She placed her flowers on the backseat. They looked like he’d stolen them from someone’s garden, in true Harry fashion, he had from their snooty neighbour.

Harry slid inside the driver’s seat and started the engine. It was freezing, the middle of winter, and if not for him she would never have stepped foot out into the bleak winter night. The car was warm already from him driving over.

“Are you some sort of pervert creep stalker or summat? What you got all this for, Styles? A shrine for me.” She said pointing to her little spot of things in the cupholder.

He rolled his eyes looking at her with a sassy expression. “Just returning them to my girlfriend, thanks,”

She was still getting used to those words slipping from his filthy rotten mouth. Harry noticed her flustered face and laughed. 

“What? Since I can’t tell everyone yet, I’m gonna boast as much as I can even if it’s just with you.”

She slid her hand into his as he drove down the street heading to, well, Y/n didn’t know where. With this boy? She’d never know what he had planned. “I can’t believe I have a boyfriend now,”

He giggled and stared ahead, but his hand squeezed hers. “Can’t believe I’m the lucky bastard. Was certain I’d never have a chance with you.”

Y/n let out a scoff. “You’re joking, you knew how much I fancied you growing up, Styles.”

He looked over at her. “Well, everyone fancied me.”

She slapped his arm, and he laughed. “Sorry, Trouble, but it’s true…anyway Em made it very clear I wasn’t allowed to engage with you. No matter how much I wanted to.”

She looked over him, in disbelief at what these past few weeks held for them. Harry Styles, her boyfriend was sharing his feelings with her, and it wasn’t even that weird to be with him. Actually, it felt pretty fucking perfect.

“So you chose to act like a foul-mouthed, prick?” She fired back raising her brows argumentatively.

He nodded, biting his lip and smirking, before looking at her for a second to see her face. “At least I got t’talk to you, and admit it Baby, y’pretty fucking sexy when you’re pissed with me.”

She scoffed at him. “And you’re dumb.”

He looked over for a second longer than he should’ve considering he was behind the wheel. “Don’t they say loves make you dumb, Trouble?”

Y/n felt her tummy curl. Love? Surely he hadn’t meant it like that. The car fell silent a soft eighties love song playing on the car speakers as Y/n melted into the leather passenger seat. She was tired, but the excitement of whatever Harry had planned had her too restless to nap. Anyway, it only took around 30 or so minutes of Harry cruising through windy back roads before the surprise was revealed.

She looked over at him, to find him already peering over at her. As she gasped out breathily. 

“...The beach?”

She looked out at the dark scene. The waves were deep, crashing, and wild. The reflection of the moon was a sombre scene across the almost black-looking ocean, and the chilly air made it seem all the more beautiful of a landscape. She’d been here before, many times. During most Summer holidays she would be invited to stay with the Styles at their beach house that was not far from here, maybe another two-minute drive or so. This beach held memories of countless afternoons sunbaking and reading, sunrises with Em, and a handful of beach bonfires mostly ending with Harry and Y/n taking care of Emma together.

She’d never been here during winter before, having never been here without the Styles to accompany her. It felt different now, and exciting to be here with just Harry. It was one of her fantasies. She’d had many nights where she laid awake in the twin bed of the beach house next to a snoring Emma dreaming of a romantic moment with Harry. Clinging to the crumbs of affection he gave her…a hand graze hers, a tug on her hair, a pat on the shoulder. She spun her own story of them being something but never imagined it would actually happen.

She turned to Harry, and once again she had to fight off the urge to pinch herself out of this unbelievably magical dream.

“What are we doing here?”

Harry smiled his hand landing on her knee, a welcome warmth during the cold of the night. “I was looking through m’camera roll and I found this photo of you and Em sunbaking right before I dumped a bucket of water all over y’both. Remember?”

She placed her hand on his admiring how large, veiny, and muscular it was. She’d always loved his hands. Tonight he had only his signet ring which was a family heirloom, on his pinky. She stroked it with her finger.

“Of course I do. Remember when we got our revenge?”

He rolled his eyes. “Was you’re idea wasn’t it, Trouble?

She grinned thinking back to the memory. It was a hazy blur of vibrant colours and laughs. That summer they were fourteen and Harry was sixteen, they’d all gotten up to lots of mischief that summer.

The whole time he had been obsessing over this girl who worked at the local cinema. When he’d finally managed to land a date, the girls had wreaked absolute havoc as revenge. He’d spent all afternoon picking out his outfit, fixing his hair to be perfect, and even shaved his slight stubble. The whole family teased him about how excited he was.

They’d been swimming in the pool when he came out to ask Emma if he could borrow her bike to ride to meet Cinema Girl at the ice cream shop. They’d been taking a break to sunbathe on the concrete in the sun when he came over to them.

Emma stood up and so did Y/n, they’d already devised their plan and were ready to take action. Y/n likes to pretend her interest in the ruining of his date had been all revenge-orientated but she knew deep down she was jealous of the curvy blonde surfer girl who was older than her who Harry had been drooling over. When Emma was the first to dive at him pushing him dangerously close to the pool, Y/n knew she needed to join her to knock his suddenly strong body into the water.

She remembers the way his hands clawed at her bare back, in hopes of pulling himself back up, but it was too late. He fell in with a big splash and an angry shout at the pair of them. Laughing so hard they clutched their stomachs when he resubmerged and the way the water fell over his head pathetically. The perfect curls on his head had been ruined, his white shirt soaked, shoes and all.

It was when he lifted himself out of the water absolute murder in his eyes that they finally fled the crime scene. Sprinting through the house and when his loud running was close by, they screamed heading through the front door. Y/n remembers running down the street in just a bikini, all wet, feet bare and as she squealed forgetting how fast Harry was when he wanted to be. Emma who was all legs and spindly back then was off miles ahead and was far from the pair of them. He’d caught Y/n with ease, arms coming around her waist and yanking her back.

“You are so dead, Trouble,”

It ended with him carrying her over his shoulder, hands dangerously close to her bum, and chucking her into the deep end of the pool. But she didn’t care, because after all that he cancelled the date and stayed in to watch Dirty Dancing with all of the girls. Anne, Gem, Em, and her. She noticed the way he smiled at the ending, and she dreamily contemplated if they’d ever have a movie-like dance scene.

She just smirked at him coming back to the present. “I was always the brains behind the operation.”

He eyed her, eyes hooded, “Y’think I didn’t know that?”

She felt herself blush. God, she had such a crush on her boyfriend.

“...Wanna go for a walk?” He asked, turning the engine off, and pulling her back to reality.

She nodded. “Of course. Do you have any other clothes to rug up?”

He looked in his backseat and grabbed a woollen blanket. “I came prepared for you.”

She smiled unbuckling her seatbelt as they stepped outside, the wind was freezing. Harry locked the car and walked around to her it was deserted here. Middle of the night, in the middle of English winter, so that wasn’t surprising.

He handed her the blanket and she wrapped it over her shoulders grabbing his arm and gripping his bicep. He leaned close to her as they walked down the beach. Sand slowed them down, as they walked slowly, listening to the waves crash.

Then she felt a cold speckle hit her face, and she looked up. “Styles, it’s snowing,”

“Oh, wow, it is.” He replied looking up at the snow, then down at her. Flecks caught in her lashes, and he leaned down to wipe them away. Cupping her face in his warm hands.

“You look so beautiful right now, Y/n.”

Y/n blushed, lifting her hand to cover her face. “No, I don’t I look all…sleepy,”

“You always look perfect, Trouble.” He replied, softly, his voice all gravelly. “Don’t hide from me.”

She moved her hands and he leaned down to kiss her. Hugging her close to him, and pulling her up to his lips, they kissed.

Snow fell softly onto them, as they cuddled closely to keep warm. Y/n wrapped them up in the blanket, and they fell into a deeper, more loving kiss. His tongue played with hers, and one of his hands moved to her hair and they melted together until all the air left their lungs. Forcing them to pull back and softly peck each other’s lips a few more times before Y/n rested her cheek near his beating heart.

They walked down to the rocks and back running and chasing each other through the sand, and snow, and god it was freezing, but being with Harry warmed her up more than any other mittens or jackets or fires could.

Jumping on his back and messing around dancing on the snowy beach for an hour, it felt like time slipped by in a wink. When it was around two thirty Harry decided to take them to the beach house for the night. He drove steadily only a street down the road and stopped out the front of this grand big old Victorian-style house painted a soft periwinkle colour, and Y/n felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her as she grabbed Harry’s hand and they stepped out of the car.

The street was silent, she could hear crickets and howling wind, as the snow speckled down onto them.

When they got inside the house it was cold — freezing, and the clothes hanging off their bodies were damp from the snow which made it even worse. As they stepped inside the cosy home it was dark, almost pitch-black but Y/n wasn’t scared because she could feel the heat of Harry’s body behind her following her inside, whispering softly in her ear. 

He grabbed her hand, and without turning on any lights he guided her upstairs to the upstairs lounge room. Even in the dark Y/n knew where they were going. It was like a library full of books floor to ceiling, and old antique possessions of Styles family, but it still had these comfy couches and a window seat to stare out at the ocean view. There was a golden-plated fireplace. Y/n remembers hiding away in here a few times when she couldn’t sleep, and sometimes Anne would bring her tea and blanket and kiss her head if she saw her inside. 

She had fond memories here, in this house, in this room. Some even with Harry, before he’d turned into a proper brooding teenage boy, they’d read Harry Potter and other fantasy novels stowed away in this room for hours during the summers. Emma wasn’t too fond of reading until she was older and could read erotica, which Y/n felt matched Emma’s taste quite well.

Y/n’s hand reached for the doorframe and Harry stepped inside first. It felt incredibly weird being here during the winter. But Harry’s warmth left it feeling like it was a romantic summer night.

He leaned down and began starting up a fire. Y/n admired the way he stacked the logs, his strong arms flexing as he did so, and he turned her. “Trouble, can y’get me some firelighters, please?” His tone was low like they had company asleep down the hall, even though they didn’t. 

The firelighters were downstairs, she nodded at him walked downstairs with his phone for a flashlight and hunted around for a few matches and firelighters. She found them easily, the layout of this home memorised in her mind, like every inch of the boy to whom it belonged. 

Pottering around, she made them each a warm tea to warm up. The kettled only took a moment to boil and she filled the mugs up to the bring. Some herbal thing Anne liked. The smell reminded Y/n of those late nights in the library room.

She carefully walked back upstairs her sock-covered feet so quiet on the hardwood floors. She found Harry scrunching up some newspaper and lighting it with a golden zippo from his pocket. She handed him the firelighters silently, and he smiled in thanks, noticing the two mugs of steam in her hands and motioned for her to sit down. She listened and sat down on the plush brown cushioned couch, and she watched him get the fire going and stood, grabbing some candlesticks from the mantle and lighting them. 

It would be a while until it warmed up the room, Y/n shivered placing the mugs down on a little coffee table, before grabbing the folded woollen blanket from behind her head and wrapped herself up in it. 

Harry joined her side and pulled her under his arm gently. He was so warm, and she melted into his side idly. Trying to shake the feeling this whole night was a dream and she’d wake up, fourteen in her twin bed, and none of this would have ever happened. But it was real.

He leaned down to capture her lips in his, his tender plush lips tasted of mint chewing gum and her lip mask, were real. The warmth spreading up her spine, the nervous race of her heart, and his chilled hands sliding up her back, were so real.Her feelings were the most real they’d ever been.

She kissed him back, with a rawness that was beginning to become familiar between them. The empty house filled with the noises of their soft gasps and sighs, and the gentle crackle of the logs burning away. Harry pressed closer to her, arms encircling her waist tightly. Holding her so close to him, as if he worried this was all a dream too and she’d slip away if he let go of her.

His chest was flush against hers, and Y/n’s hands tangled up in his messy hair to ensure he stayed right where she wanted him. Right here, forever if he’d let her. He was a welcomed warmth and the blanket slipped off their shoulders as the kiss grew more intense.

Their tongues clashed messily, and mouths parted like they were a source of oxygen for each other, soaking each other in. One of Harry’s hands moved to her hip tracing a familiar scar she’d got falling off a trampoline in his backyard. He remembers being the one to wait with her in the hospital while they stitched it.

His knee moved between both of hers, bumping them apart and pushing up closer as she began to fall back onto the couch arms still around his neck and hands in his hair. Moving down to lay on top of her she wrapped her legs around him. Hugging every inch of him closer to her. Her head was tucked up against one of the pillows on the couch, hips rocking against his as he hugged her tighter his hands sliding under peachy bum, squeezing the plump flesh there and sighing contently. 

“You are perfect,” Harry uttered, pulling back, kissing cheek and then her jaw. Pulling back again to admire her flushed face. His eyes burned into hers, as a tender look washed over him. “So fucking perfect, god, I could die happy knowing you’re all mine.”

And maybe it wasn’t I love you, but they both knew that’s what he meant. She smiled up at him, a grin, dazzling and toothy. The orange glow of the fire was just enough for him to see that beautiful smile and he melted at the sight. Was it too soon to marry this bloody girl?

He knew that whatever this girl wanted, needed, or asked, he’d do for her in a heartbeat. He was done for. That smile made him want to fall to his knees and kiss the floor she walked on. Her name was carved into his heart, in her soft handwriting, this was it. This was what he’d been waiting for. For her.

“Stay, Styles.” Was all she could muster, flustered and drunk on the taste of him. Her soft voice ran up his spine and he shivered, squeezing her tight.

“I’m not going anywhere, Baby,” He replied leaning down to nose at her neck shyly. Her hands slid under his shirt feeling his soft firm back to hold him here. Anchoring herself to him, she left her mark all over him and he felt his cock twitch. This girl had him wrapped around her little finger, and he didn’t even mind.

“Better not.” She replied breathily, as he kissed along her neck down to her breast nosing at his initial on her neck before moving to kiss along her collar bones.

“Take it off,” She muttered. His hands in no rush lifted off her first layer. Throwing the jumper down as he gazed at the dark long sleeve, tugging that off quickly too, and laughing when there was still another layer. It was the final one, a gauzy flimsy white singlet she was wearing. He could see her nipples pebbling at the cold air and the outline of her perfect body. “This too,” She said nodding.

His hands softly tugged it up off her and threw it along with the rest. Her hands tugged the hem of his many layers and he sat back on his bum to pull them off in one go, revealing his rippling muscles and perfect tattoos. The glow of the flames flickering against his body had a heat creeping between her thighs.

He was a total fucking sex god. She couldn’t get enough of him.

“Harry, you really are beautiful.” She said, all besotten, and the rotten-mouthed Harry Styles actually blushed red at her words. Blushed! A red rosy flush crept up his neck and cheeks, and he smiled shyly, mouth slightly parted.

He tried to find a teasing quip and for once fell flat because Y/n was already telling him to kiss her again, and that was enough to make him come back down, pressing their skin together. The feeling brought them both a comfort they hadn’t expected. Skin to skin, it felt like the closest thing to magic.

Both of them were still dressed in pants Y/n reached for his belt undoing it eagerly, as she never took her lips off his. Eventually, his pants were loose and Harry pulled back for a moment to tug them off messily. Y/n decided to do the same, leaving her in just a pair of silly knickers with cartoon fish on them.

Harry giggled thumbing at the pattern with his big hands. “You are so adorable, sweet girl.”

She smiled shyly blushing. “Shut up and kiss me again, Styles.”

So he did, and things began to heat up as Y/n rucked up against his hips more desperately. A throbbing heat, aching for some form of relief, seeking out his stiffening cock. She rubbed herself softly on his thigh whimpering into his mouth. Positioning herself to rub against him, and what was poking hard into her leg.

And he laughed softly at her neediness, moving his lips to kiss her neck again, resting his face in the crook there pressing even firmer against her. Not realising until now how much he craved to fill her sweet little pussy up. His cock stiffened at the feel of warm wet slick dripping from her cute goofy knickers onto him, and began to push against her. Moaning into her skin, smelling her, and letting himself be completely captivated by her.

She whined at the feel of him. “Harry,” She sighed, all breathy. God, he loved when she said his name, but he did like when she said pretty much anything in that breathy sort of way she got when she was being taken care of underneath him.

He moved back to place a peck on her lips, before travelling down her body, first capturing a nipple in his mouth. Sucking, biting, and teasing her. Loving the sounds that she made from his supple mouth. Whiny gasps of pleasure and wet kisses filled the air.

He kissed further down to her navel and along her hips, a teasing bite against her flesh that made her squeal and laugh, jolting up slightly. “Styles!”

He peppered kissings over the bite in apology, licking a long stripe across it. “Mmm.”

He travelled further down, near the hem of her knickers, at eye level with the gorgeous slick stain begging to be lapped up by him. He looked up to find her already staring down at him, and his hands moved to hips as he nosed at her warmth, watching her squirm from the soft touch. The heady and delicious scent of her perfect pussy filled his senses as he gripped the hem of her knickers desperately.

“G’na be a good girl and let m’take care of you?” He asked her, one of his hands moving up to stroke her cheek gently. Dragging back down her body slowly waiting for her answer, feeling the rise and fall of her breathing against his palm.

She nodded eagerly grabbing his hand and squeezing it. “Please, please, need you, Daddy,” She whispered sultrily.

“Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna take care of you, Angel.” He replied, moving his hand back down and tugging them down languidly, throwing them to the floor. Welcoming her with the sight of her pretty, wet, pussy. Lips splayed out like a flower in bloom. A pearly sheen coated all over her legs and Harry licked his lips at the sight of her. 

He was so hungry to taste her and lick into that pretty hole of hers. The low light of the fire cast a gentle light over her beautiful soft flesh and silky skin. Slowly inching his face closer and he guided her legs over his shoulders, heels landing on his back and thighs pressing to his cheeks, as his hot breath hit her pussy causing her to squeeze her eyes tight and her hands to clench the couch cushion, shivering. His nose bumped into her puffy clit, as he pressed a gentle kiss into her lips. 

She breathed out softly, hands moving to his messy hair to hold him there. He began to suck on her clit, causing her hips to jolt up in surprise. His big strong hands came up to push her thighs back toward her, folding her in half, and keep her still while he ate her like she was his last meal.

“Fuck,” She uttered, bringing one of her hands up to her mouth. Harry started by licking up all the mess she’d made between her pretty little thighs getting worked up from their kissing. Normally one to tease her a lot more, but in this moment, he just wanted her to feel the best she ever had.

He noticed the noises she was making were muffled, and not as loud as he wanted, and pulled back to find her hand over her mouth.

“Y/n, Baby, don’t keep me from hearing those filthy little sounds, please.” He said one of his hands grabbing at her wrist, and the begging tone had her dropping them to her sides and squeezing the plush couch.

She blushed bashfully, “Sorry, used to needing t’be quiet, H,”

He smiled at her. “Don’t worry. It’s just us…you and me.” Before moving back down, and tonguing her fluttering hole, his thumb came up to toy with her clit. When she moaned for him, back arching up, and heels pressing further into his muscled back he smirked against her. Pulling back for a moment to praise her gently. “Much better, sucha’ good girl f’ me, love hearing your lil’ noises.”

She whined when his mouth moved up to suck on her clit, and one of his long fingers made its way to stretch her out. It slid in easily, until he was knuckle deep, “Fuck, Daddy,”

He started to curl inside her and move, fucking her, and the noises that escaped her pussy and swollen lips had him fucking his hips against the couch, cock painfully hard. When he added another finger, he could feel the tightness as she squeezed around him. He had started to hit that spot inside her, and the way he was licking at her clit, and suckling on it, her toes were curling and her hands had fallen into his already messy hair. Nails scratching at his scalp and tugging on his hair when he did something made her body twitch involuntarily.

“Oh, yes, there,” She whined when his fingers curled and grazed that spot. “G’na make me cum, Daddy? Can I?” She begged.

He pulled back, fingers still going. “Cum for Daddy, Princess.” Before going back to lick into her again.

She did, one that snuck up her. Causing a surprised gasp to escape her lips. 

A white-hot wave flooded over her whole body, causing her to shake, pussy pulsating against him, and toes curling. Sparks snapping down her spine, as a mewl left her throat. Her hips stuttered, and one of her hands moved to claw at his shoulder. He hissed against her but he didn’t stop, and Y/n felt her legs tremble, and she was going to tell him to stop but he felt so good. Despite her feeling sensitive from her previous orgasm, his tongue had her closing her eyes, a heat growing once again, as she rocked her hips chasing that familiar feeling.

He was an expert at it, and it had taken him barely any time to become a master of her body, and knew exactly how to make her finish over and over.

He licked into her cunt, lapping up the tangy sweet flavour of her. Moaning loudly as he tongued her clit, he couldn’t get enough. If he could sustain from just eating Y/n’s sweet little cunt, he’d eat her for all his meals.

Only a few minutes later she was falling apart again, a mess, but this time she squirted all over him. Unexpectedly, she felt a different feeling crash through her, and she screamed out clenching her eyes shut and her legs came to clamp around his head uncontrollably. Harry’s eyes peered up at her one of his hands playing with her nipple and squeezing her soft fleshy breast. A wetness coating his chin and throat, god, she thought for a moment there she stopped seeing and hearing for a second, when she came back to Harry pulled off her with a popping sound and her legs fell limp on either side of him. 

His fingers slide out leaving her empty, he lifted them to his mouth and sucked off the last of her. Sitting back on his knees and watching her, hands still wrapped around her legs caressing them as they trembled.

She felt herself clench around nothing, thinking about empty she felt now, and how badly she wanted his perfect dick inside her. He leaned forward again, nose brushing her tummy, as he thumbed over swollen wet petals. Her cross necklace and chain with her initial tickled her skin as he got closer to her neck. “Fuck, it’s so easy to ruin this little pussy, Baby,”

He smirked at her shiver. “Haven’t even fucked you with m’cock yet, and you’re already a mess f’me, my sweet girl.” One of his hands came up to brush some of her stray hairs away from her face. “Hmm, so beautiful.”

She melted into his touch and took a few shaky breaths as he continued to play with her sensitive pussy and hair. “Daddy…” She shut her eyes. “Need you, please,”

He looked down at her tauntingly, hand stroking her cheek. As he hovered over her naked body. He looked edible. His lips were red and probably tasted of her, a devilish smirk crept over his face. And his body, ugh, she wanted to swallow him whole. 

“Need me, huh? What d’ya mean?” He teased her, and she pouted up at him. Using her foot to kick his bum in faux annoyance.

“Harryyyy!” She really had missed him, and she really did love this boy. Messy hair, rotten mouth, tattoos, long past of other girls, his habit of teasing her for everything. She loved all of him, and shes certain she always will.

“Babyyyy.” He said back, leaning down to kiss her neck some more, leaving a mark on her collarbone. Laying on her, boxer-covered cock pressing against her warm pussy.

She pouted some more. “Pleaseee.” Her long nails came up to her arms and scratched his biceps, they were so fleshy and strong, she felt so safe wrapped up in them. He smelt delicious, and she nosed at his neck. He smelt like normal — tobacco and vanilla but had a hint of something just Harry, a heady smell that coated his skin. She wished she could stay in this moment forever. Her thighs and legs came up to wrap around him and squeeze him closer if that was even possible.

He stopped his kisses and pressed his nose to hers, brushing them together. “Please what? Can’t help if you won’t be a good girl and tell Daddy what you want…” His thumb came up to rub along her bottom lip. “Hmm? Princess?”

She blushed, staring right into his green eyes, and melted into his palm. “Can you please, please, put that pretty cock inside me, Daddy? I need it. Haven’t seen you in a week. I missed you.” Pouting her lips, she lifted her nails to his sides, scratching along his muscles and tattoos. “Please. Wanna feel you. All of you.”

He shivered at her touch, he couldn’t believe his bloody luck, pretty little Y/n from next door was begging for his cock and she was all his. His pretty girl.

He kissed her, a long one, tongues dancing together playfully, “Such a good girl f’me, Trouble.” He said against her lips and kissed her some more. His hips rutted against hers, and she rubbed against him moaning and kissing him back lazily. He could feel his boxers getting damp from her slick.

He kissed her like that until she was squeezing him so tightly, and whining loud enough that he knew it was evil to make her wait any longer. He pulled back pecking her nose and then forehead, “Y’want me inside, Baby?” His veiny tattooed hand came up to rub her tummy absentmindedly thinking of how full she’d be of him, how he’d be in her tummy hitting all those spots.

She nodded biting her lip. “God yes. You want that too, right, Styles?” She said breathlessly canting her hips against his throbbing cock.

“Yeah, I really fucking missed you, Trouble.” He said, and he sat back on his knees again tugging his boxers off. His cock sprung up, bobbing against his belly, all swollen and hard for her. As big as always, she would never get used to the sight of him. Dripping in pearls of precum, and probably a bit of her slick. His prick was all veiny, big, and hers. Her mouth watered, and she was tempted to slip him inside her throat for a taste.

She hadn’t realised her mouth was hanging open, but when Harry laughed she came back to, “What?”

“You’d think I’d never fucked you before,” He teased, licking his lips.

She sat up, eyes still trained on his stiff prick, unable to look away. “Not my fault you’re abnormally large, Styles, it’s what gives you the right to walk around like you’re gods gift,” She paused hand coming out to give him a few lazy strokes, he hissed when her thumb ran over his leaking slit. “This perfectly crafted fucking dick. Made just f’me. Right?”

His head fell back, and his eyes squeezed shut, how could feel so close to coming just from her hand tugging him a few times? Christ. His hips started fucking into her hand desperately against his mind’s better judgement, this woman had him under a spell. “Yes, Princess, all of me is made for you.” 

She pressed their foreheads together and guided the tip to touch her. Gently pressing into her wetness.

He whined. “Y/n, mm fuck, Angel,” And slowly entered her, feeling her squirm at the size of him. Stopping when he was all the way inside her. He nosed at her throat and felt her arms and legs wrap around him tightly. “You okay?”

She nodded and kissed his cheek, “Yeah, Styles, I’m good. Move f’me.”

As he started to pump inside her at a slow pace, he could feel how wet, tight, and hot she was inside. He had to fight not to finish quickly. Moaning loudly, as her hands scratched into his skin.

“Mm, shit,” She whispered squeezing hers shut, despite the fact he was moving slowly his thrusts were still deep and hitting her g-spot hard, her body was relaxed from two orgasms, and she didn’t know if she’d last long.

“Feel good, Petal?” He asked.

She nodded bumping their noses together. “Kiss me, please.”

So he did, a deep kiss, and his thrusts unconsciously went faster. Hitting that spot rapidly, and she was moaning loudly against his lips, she pulled apart to let her fall down as she panted.

“I think you’re gonna make me cum, fuck,” She mewled, and the way her pussy clenched on his cock he knew she was telling the truth, one of his hands snuck between them and while still keeping the same pace he rubbed her puffy little clit and felt it throb at his touch.

“Cum, Baby.” He ordered.

Her legs tightened around his hips and she hugged him, shaking fiercely, and cried out soft calls of his name. And he felt a dampness shoot over his thighs and cock. She’d squirted again, and he kissed her at that.

“Good girl, so good,” He cooed, pumping her through it, as he felt his own orgasm not far off.

She kissed his neck. “Will you cum in my pussy, Daddy, please? Wanna be full of you.”

And the unexpected words that spilled from his mouth made his cock twitch, and heat pool in his stomach. “Yes, Princess, m’ close.”

His head fell into the crook of her neck and shoulder and he grunted, hips speeding up and becoming more sloppy all at once.

“Yes, Daddy, cum f’me. Mmm.” She moaned, and her pussy clenched on him. And he whined, hips stuttering at her words.

“Fuck, Baby,”

It was only a few more seconds of him pounding into her and he came, hard, a guttural groan left his lips and he fucked her until all of his cum was stuffed inside her. She whimpered at the feeling, and he fell on top of her tiredly, and she hugged him close.

He lifted his head up to kiss her, cock still buried deep in her. “I- you are so perfect, I wish we could stay like this forever, Trouble.” He almost said it — those three words, but he didn’t want her to get the wrong impression. He wanted to say I love you without her thinking it had anything to do with sex.

“Me too, Styles.” She replied smiling.

They kissed a long, unhurried kiss.

When they pulled back Harry shifted them into a different position leaving his softened prick inside her for a few more minutes. Not quite ready to pull out of her.

Her back pressed into his chest, and he wrapped his big arms around her waist, squeezing her nice and close to him. Stroking her head and peppering kisses all over her, she sighed softly into his touch and in a few minutes she was asleep.

Deep heavy breaths rose and fell in his arms, letting her rest like that for a few more minutes. When he felt his eyes start to droop too, he kissed her head and woke her up to make sure they wouldn’t be all sticky. She moved over and Harry walked to the bathroom. He came back with a warm flannelette and wiped her bits and legs, kissing the tender areas as he did. She whimpered at the feeling, and Harry made sure to peck her lips and whisper sweet nothings to her.

They got back onto the couch, deciding to sleep nice and close to the fire, Harry threw the blanket over them tucking Y/n into his chest, his back against the sofa, and hers against him. Hugging her so tight she wouldn’t be able to escape, even when he lulled off he held her like the most precious thing in the world.

The fire raged for a good few hours, and when they woke up a bit later to the alarm they set to make sure Y/n got back for her class in time. Harry helped her get dressed and fixed her hair, guiding her sleepy form to the car and letting her sleep during the drive back home. Making sure to take care of her, one of his hands resting on his thigh for most of the drive.

As they drove home the sun was rising and Y/n’s soft sleepy snores filled the car, Harry watched her sleeping with the utmost admiration.

“I love you.” He whispered to himself looking at her through tired eyes. 

It was around seven thirty when they pulled up to Y/n’s house. She sleepily knuckled her eyes, and they both looked ruined, having got only four or so hours of rest.

Harry woke her gently rubbing her shoulder. “Home, Baby,”

She groaned wiping her eyes and stirring. Before leaning over to him, “I don’t wanna goooo…”

He smiled at her and moved his hand to caress her head. “Want me to pick you up after your lecture? I’ll make you some food, and we can nap. Hmm?”

She nodded. “Sounds good, Baby,”

He leaned over to peck her lips and then unbuckled his belt to open her door for her and walk her inside. 

Hand in hers he walked her to the door, Y/n threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed him deeply as Harry’s hands travelled down to her peachy bum and squeezed it. Harry placed one final peck on her puffy lips and tucked his head into her neck spinning her around in a tight hug before plopping her back on her feet and kissing her hand that was joined to his before waving goodbye and heading back to his car.

What the two hadn’t seemed to notice was Emma’s peering gaze from behind one of the many big oaks. For once she’d gotten up early, made it to her six o’clock pilates class, and was actually on her way to walk with Y/n to their Pysch class, two large seasonal coffee cups in her hands and a cute little teal workout set on ready to triumph the day. This was probably the second time in the semester Emma hadn’t been hungover or slept in and was actually here to attend the lecture with Y/n. 

So of course Y/n hadn’t expected to see her best friend, and Emma of course had not expected to see any of that.

She had been whistling happily, chirpily walking two warm delicious smelling coffees and a hop in her step. The sun was shining despite the winter air, and she only had one more exam and she was done for the Uni semester! What was there to be annoyed about? And even though this Pysch lecturer was insane, at least she’d be with lovely Y/n who would definitely tell her all the answers to the quiz that was going to take place.

She’d been so excited to surprise Y/n with a coffee and a muffin and plan the many many many parties over their coming winter break on the walk to campus. But she’d immediately stopped in her tracks when she saw her brother’s car. What the fuck was Harry doing there? Maybe shagging one of Y/n’s roomies?

But when she saw Y/n step out of the car in her pyjamas, and all close to him, Emma knew. 

She watched them kiss and giggle and had to fight the urge not to throw up, scream, or cry. Instead of doing any of those things she froze and ducked down behind the tree hiding from Harry’s car as it drove off. 

Devising silently what to do with this situation, she sat down on the grass and waited for a couple of minutes. Catching her breath and calming down from the shock.

Before soon heading to knock on the door and pretend she hadn’t seen a thing, she decided it would be best to mull things over, despite the rage thrumming through her, she plastered the biggest smile she could and waited for Y/n.

Y/n answered, now changed into a fresh set of warm comfy clothes for the lecture. A cosy big knit and a skirt with thick tights under, and these tall boots. She had a brush in her hand and was raking it through her messy hair. 

“Oh! Em! What’re you doing here?” Y/n said, peering up owlishly, and smiling. Not having expected to see Emma of all people, especially so early. She only joined the class because Y/n was taking it and then never came to a single lesson this semester.

Emma raised the two coffee cups. “We still have Psych this morning right? I bought those new cinnamon roll syrup coffees, Babe. You said you wanted to try them.”

Y/n smiled, pulling her in for a hug, “Oh you’re the best come up, I still need to do my makeup and then we can start walking, yeah?”

Emma nodded a tight-lipped smile and followed Y/n up to her room. 

Now that Emma thought about it, Y/n had been happier than normal, and Harry had been more relaxed. Less of a grumpy old oaf, and much calmer. She hadn’t seen a string of people leaving in the morning and Harry coming down hungover. She hadn’t heard drunken stumbling inside, she hadn’t smelt the familiar potent smell of Harry smoking upstairs, and she hadn’t noticed his lack of appearance at most events where Y/n wasn’t. Not until right now.

God, how could she be so stupid!!! Was she blind? She didn’t know how she hadn’t realised. She knew Y/n had fancied him when they were younger, and Harry had their whole friendship, but she’d made it clear to both of them that she didn’t approve.

How had this whole thing slipped past her? Why were they keeping it from her? Obviously, she didn’t approve! How could she? Her brother fucked anything that moved since he was fourteen, a party boy, drugs and sex a part of his daily ritual. Parties every night, and a thirst for people that could not be quenched. 

Though she loved him he had many great qualities, he was and always would be the boy who came in wrecking all her friendships by shagging the girls and ditching them.

And Y/n was hers, her best friend, and she had warned him many times that he could not go there with Y/n. Y/n was untouchable, off-limits, and innocent. Y/n wasn’t a party girl, she stayed home reading or studying, watching cheesy old shows and calling her grandma every Tuesday during her break between lectures. Y/n was perfect and sweet. She had such little experience with boys and life.

The handful of interactions Y/n had with boys had been due to Emma’s involvement, having only been with two boys her whole life. Jeremiah from sixth form who she’d lost her virginity to, Keiran an Irish lad they’d met on their holiday to Greece during a Uni summer who Y/n had spent a few weeks with. They’d met up in a few different countries that summer and shared a short romance that ended when he went back to Dublin and Y/n to London. They’d mainly just kissed, but Emma managed to find out from Y/n that Keiran was particularly good with his mouth and had a thing for eating girls out, he preferred it to sex.

Emma had also hooked up with both of them. She had given Jeremiah a blowie a year before he took an interest in Y/n at a house party. In Greece, Emma had been the one to kiss Keiran on the dancefloor before moving on to his friend Jordon who was a rugby player for the Cork team when she realised Keiran was not a famous rugby player, only a builder. 

Emma never liked the idea of anyone taking advantage of Y/n, she was sweet, and she knew her brother had to be using her for a shag. Y/n would be of no use to him otherwise. Just another notch in his belt.

Harry would never be a boyfriend guy, and Emma knew Y/n wasn’t fuck buddy material she would get attached to a pigeon in the park if it ate enough of her crumbs.

Emma refused to believe Y/n could be as naive as to fall for it. Harry was masterful with his charm, and so was she. The two siblings chewed people and spat them back out. Y/n had always noticed the restlessness about them. So, Emma could recognise what they were, and accept that settling down just wasn’t in their nature.

As Emma watched Y/n place some blush on her cheeks in the ensuite, she walked over to where Y/n’s phone was charging. A few messages popped up on the screen.

Harry Styles🍒

You are so cute, show me your outfit for today.

Call me when you are done, Baby. Em should be at Zayns we can just chill. XX

Emma gritted her teeth and placed the phone down. 

She had to think of a way to stop this and prove what Harry’s true intentions were. He couldn’t possibly love her or care, there was no way.

The walk to campus was nice, the cold had turned to a crisp clear day, and as they walked through the main bustling part of campus they saw Niall and a bunch of his frat friends chatting by Lily’s Cafe, which was the best spot on campus. It had cheap coffee that tasted good and food that didn’t look like it’s gonna run away from you.

Y/n worked there in her first year, Zayn was a barista there so they had been heading there for free donuts before their lecture. Niall spotted them, he was in a backward cap and a cosy-looking oversized crewneck and sweats, he jogged over.

“Sexy ladies, what are we up to?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “What does it look like, we are here to get a jet to Dubai, we are obviously getting coffee.”

Y/n giggled. “Don’t worry, Ni, Em is not a morning person.”

Niall rolled his eyes. “What’s got you moody Em, Zayn ain’t as good in the sack as rumours say?”

“Shut up, Niall.”

Emma and Niall never really got along, they butted heads a lot, and Niall was one of the only people to stand up to her. He thinks the reason Emma hates him is because back in first year they’d come to a frat party and of course, he’d spotted them instantly.

Y/n had been in his pink flowy dress, her hair styled up in a sleek look, big gold hoops on her ears and she looked beautiful. Niall remembers working his way over to flirt with her and being rudely interrupted by Emma. She was fit too, with a black dress and an attitude, but she wasn’t Y/n.

He hadn’t known Emma was Harry’s sister, he should’ve known from the attitude and brooding good looks, but he hadn’t put two and two together until Harry walked over to tell the girls off for coming when he’d told them not to. 

Emma walked into Lily’s as Y/n stood next to Niall. 

“How are you, mate?”

Niall lifted his arm to wrap around her shoulder and pull her into his side. “I’ll be better tonight. Please tell me you are coming?”

Y/n sighed. “Oh god, what’s tonight?”

“Cops, robbers, and sluts party at Sigma Pi Gamma.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Peter’s frat. I fucking hate that prick.”

Niall laughed. “No one likes him, Babe,”

“I don’t know if I’ll go…” Y/n said absently, thinking about curling up with Harry watching Murder She Wrote and eating Chinese takeaway.

“You have to come, if you don’t I’ll have to deal with Paddy and his mates alone. I need you..bring Styles, I need my emotional support friends.”

Y/n smiled at him. Now that she thinks about it Niall was probably one of her closest friends other than Emma. Even though Emma always tried to talk down on him. “I’ll talk to him, Em probably already planned on dragging me there tonight. What are you going as a cop or a robber?”

Niall smirked cheekily. “I’m going as a slut obviously.”

“We’ll see if I can find a costume in time. I don’t think I have anything.”

Niall shrugged and they both watched Emma through the glass window as she curled up in Zayn’s arms. “I’m sure Emma will. She’s pretty much been to every party on campus since you two arrived. Even when she was sick last month I still saw her at Seth’s place, she’s sure to have a costume for you.”

“Why don’t you two get along?” Y/n asked after a moment of silence as they soaked in the rays of the sun that today provided, the snow had stopped.

Niall laughed. “Other than the fact she’s creepily obsessed with you? She’s never liked me. I think it’s ‘cause of that one time.”

Y/n frowned. Since when was Emma obsessed with her? Emma only really cared about herself, and Y/n felt guilty as the thought crossed her mind, but Emma really did only ever focus on herself. Her outfit, her hair, her looks, her current boy of the week. Her frown deepened, what one time?

“What time? Did you two hook up or summat?” Y/n asked curiously.

Niall burst out in a cackle. “Her? And me? Puh-lease kid. She’s so not my type.”

It was true, Niall liked softness…everyone he’d dated had been like gentle teddy bears.

“What then? Flirt with a guy she fancied?” Y/n questioned. Emma got pretty territorial.

“My flirting seems to be rather forgettable, Babe.”

“Huh?”

“Do you remember your first freshers party?” Niall asked.

Y/n thought back to her first party. She wore a flowy pink dress that Harry said made her look like fairy floss, and he’d been pissed that she even came out he didn’t like them drinking. 

“Sure, summer theme right?”

He nodded. “I flirted with you all night.”

Y/n laughed in disbelief. “You did?!”

Niall smirked. “Yeah, then both your guard dogs barked at me for it. You didn’t seem to notice though.”

Y/n giggled. As if Harry cared.

“Y/n that boy has been obsessed with you since forever.”

She rolled her eyes. “No way.”

Niall then in an instant pulled up a photo of the four of them on his phone. Niall, Emma, Harry, and Y/n at a party in the girls first year, they were all dressed up for Pride in rainbows and celebrating. Harry was mooning down at her staring as Y/n grinned under Niall’s shoulder.

“Look at the way he looks at you.”

Y/n smiled, blushing. “God, he’s so annoying.”

“He’s in love,” Niall replied, certain, and Y/n leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

“You are a romantic aren't you, Horan?”

To that, the boy ruffled her hair. “Maybe I actually believe in it now. Are you gonna help me with Paddy?”

She nodded, “Of course, mate,” 

This warm fuzzy feeling stayed with Y/n all the way to the Styles place. The day had turned beautiful so she’d decided to walk there. 

Emma had left to be with Zayn but they promised to see each other at that party that night. Apparently, it was impreative that Y/n come, and now that Niall had begged her she had no choice. 

When Y/n arrived at the flat she found Harry half asleep in his boxers on the couch doing a Uni assignment. Laptop on his lap and a blanket wrapped around him. He looked up at the sound of someone using the key in the door.

She stepped inside smiling at him. God, wasn’t her boyfriend yummy?

“Hey Baby, you walked?” He said happily and was going to get up to greet her but Y/n practically flew on the couch, dumping her bag on the floor and landing in his arms.

She nuzzled into his side and kissed his neck in a warm greeting. 

“Stylessss,” She mewed out, the weight of their practically sleepless night hitting her now as she melted into his side.

“Baby,” He sighed back, a hint of arousal melted down his spine at the way her lips kissed his neck ready to give her anything she asked. Jesus, this girl. His girl. She’d be the death of him. He’d spent half the night making love to her, and now she was doing this, and he was almost ready to go again and she’d hardly touched him.

Harry had to admit to himself that having a girlfriend, especially when it was Y/n was actually rather lovely. If you asked him a few months ago about his thoughts of relationships he’d say he dreaded the idea of being stuck with one person. The idea of being tied to only one, and feeling stuck, but now that he had his Y/n he didn’t feel that at all. He’d gladly stick to her for the rest of his life.

He was completely and utterly besotted with her, so when she looked up at him in her cute little way he knew he’d soon be agreeing to whatever she asked of him.

“Can you do me a favour?” She practically purred, fluttering her lashes and looking up at him. She knew he’d give in, he was a sucker for her eyes. He always talked about how much he loved them, her pretty bedroom eyes.

“What is it, Trouble?” He asked, his pupils already dilating at the way she pressed her hand into his thigh rubbing him with her soft hand. She really was trouble.

She fluttered her eyes at him once more. “I’ll give you anything you want if…” She paused licking her lips and leaning in closer.

“If I what, Trouble?” He asked, biting his lip and lifting his hand to push the hair that had fallen in front of her face away. “Hmm? What is it, Baby?”

She dropped the act, bringing her hands together in a begging motion, “If you pretty please come to this ridiculous party tonight to help Niall with Paddy’s mates? Plus Em was gonna drag me anyway, I need you with me. Pleaseeee!”

Harry groaned throwing his head back against the top of the couch, showing off his neck that was covered in marks from last night. He really had not wanted to anything but sleep and hopefully hangout with his girlfriend in peace.

“Babyyy, we were gonna have a nice night innnn, I’m so tireddd.” Harry whined out his hands covering his face, he’dalready planned a night of binging that silly show Y/n liked and kissing her, a lot.

She nods, pouting, and putting her hands on his shoulders rubbing them softly with her palms. “I know, Baby, I know, but if you do I promise you won’t regret it.”

He looks up, a devilish smirk crossing onto his face. “What will you give me if I do, hmm?”

She smirks back at him and leans forward to plant a kiss on his lips, they taste like toothpaste and strawberries. He must have been eating them before she got here. She lets out a soft little moan against his lips as his hands creep up under her shirt. God, she really can’t get enough of this boy. He’s just..ugh. Her need for him is insatiable.

His hands grip her tighter and he pulls onto his lap urgently. She giggles against his kiss and lets her hands mess with his gorgeous hair, her nails scratching the nape of his neck causing him to sigh out. She pulls back and begins to pepper kisses down his neck and shoulders, over his swallows tattoos and further down. 

“Please?” She asks, pouting her lips and fluttering her beautiful eyes at him. 

He looks at her, “Y/n, don’t do the face.” He’s almost begging because he wants to give this girl the whole world and more, for nothing in return.

She moves off his lap sinking to her knees onto the floor of the plush shag carpet, and she places her hands on his thighs, sitting between his muscular legs. She begins to caress his legs gently, her small delicate hands slowly travelling further and further up his bare legs. “What face?”

He throws his head back for what feels like the thousandth time. “God, Baby,”

She sits up a bit, tucking her feet under her bum, kneeling right before him as her hands travel to his waistband playing with it teasingly. He shivers under her touch arching into it subconsciously. “Should I stop, Styles?”

He shakes his head looking back down at her and biting his lip. “No.” Harry slowly moves one of his down to her face, he rubs warm skin, a big hand cupping her cheek like he’s done many times before. “Such a good girl, aren’t you?”

She kisses the palm of his hand in response and then moves forward to kiss his tiger tattoo on his muscular thigh. He lets go of her face moving his hand into her hair and pushing it back from her eyes. “So pretty, Baby,”

She blushes and then moves her kisses up along his other thigh and nipping at the milky flesh of the inner part of his muscle, leaving a little pink love bite that causes his breath to hitch and dick to rise in his boxers even more. Fuck. She was fucking made for him. No one had ever understood him and his body so well. Not like his Y/n.

He lets go of her face grabs her small hand in his brings it up to his waistband and puts it inside his boxers and she feels him. She slowly pulls his hard throbbing dick out with the help of his hand guiding her. As she lets go it springs up against his tummy and she shuffles closer and looks up at him.

“What do you want, Daddy?” She whispers. “My mouth or my hands?”

Harry smirks bringing his hand yet again to her face dragging a thumb across her glossy lips. 

“Mouth baby.” He drawls, as his hand slides down her throat gently stroking the side of her neck before drifting to her shoulder and pulling her even closer to him.

She leans down, her warm breath fanning against him, as her glossy lips graze his pretty pink tip. Then, one little kitten licks teasing against his glistening cock, and his hands instantly come flying down to her hair. Without much thought, he tugs it back out of her face so she can get to work on him just how he likes.

She purses her lips a trail of spit landing on his hard cock, dripping down all the way to his balls. She opens her mouth and then slowly takes the head of him in her mouth, sucking gently, causing Harry to moan. His thighs flex as he fights not to push up into the back of her tight hot throat.

As Y/n expertly starts to move up and down on him, he clenches his jaw letting out a deep grunt. The part of him Y/n can’t fit in her mouth she grabs with her hand that is already covered in slick from his messy tip. This causes Harry’s thighs to shake a little bit as his hips stutter into her mouth. She makes a choked noise bringing him out of the haze of pure bliss she’d given him. He doesn’t want to be too rough with her, but she’s making it hard.

“Sorry, Petal,” He says, a pinched expression covering his features as he looks down at her. “You just make me feel s’good.”

She has tears in her eyes as she takes him ever deeper, the sight in front of him is downright filthy. His pretty girl takinghis big cock in her little lips, choking and crying over it, all desperate to make him. He watches her, as her throat chokes around him. Y/n fights the urge to stop — her lungs begging for her to take a breath. Harry’s eyes practically roll back in his skull and he moans. 

“Oh, fuck, Trouble.”

She pulls up for a gasp of air, her hand still stroking him at the pace he likes, the trail of spit a mess on him and her hand. His tip is leaking pearls of precum, and his prick twitches in her grasp. Despite her only just starting he feels close, so close. Dangerously, so.

“You can be rougher if you want, Daddy,” She says breathily. “I won’t mind.”

He brings his hand to her face, “C’mere.”

She pouts. “But I promised to take care of you.” She says not moving from her kneeling position.

“I know Baby, and I’m so close to cumming. Pretty fucking mouth. All mine.” He praises gently caressing her head. “But I want you. Need to fuck you.” He asks pleadingly. “Will you let me, Angel?”

Y/n agrees at that and climbs messily onto his lap. He kisses her, with a deep passion that makes her tummy curl deliciously with want. Harry tugs the layers of her clothes off in a mess with rough hands. He’s wild, untamable, not stopping until she’s just in her cute icy blue bra and that skirt with the little tights that drive him wild. He’d always been a sucker for Y/n’s short skirts.

“Are you particularly attached to these tights, Trouble?” He says softly as he peppers kisses down her neck It is making it awfully hard for her to think straight let alone form a coherent sentence.

“Hmm, no, why?” She says breathily, eyes fluttering shut in his firm gentle hold.

His answer is one of his strong hands travelling over the curve of her body to her rounded ass, and clawing at the flimsy fabric until he has access to the pale-coloured knickers she was wearing and better access to her silky supple skin. She tugs his hair and kisses his lips hastily, too horny to care about her tights as he begins to toy with her already-dampened knickers.

She whines into his mouth pulling back as she drags her hips along his exposed, sensitive length. “Mm, fuck, Daddy.”

This causes Harry to falter letting out a deep groan. “You’re s’fucking beautiful. You know tha’?”

Y/n giggles in reply.  Slowly moving her hand from his chest down to in between them, she grabs her knickers pulling them to the side. She knows what she wants, and she’s going to get it. With her slick-covered fingers, she grasps his aching cock. It throbs with want against her palm, and she guides the leaking head to her entrance. She winces at the sting of him, and Harry watches her with hooded eyes as his hands massage her bum. He watches as Y/n slowly takes him inside of her.

The head of him nudging past her folds, her sweet pussy slowly enveloping the rest of him. When Y/n finally sinks all the way down she lets out a straggled cry, Harry groans into her ear trying to keep his pleasure at bay. “Oh fuck, right there.” She whispers into his neck, giving herself a second before she moves.

“You okay, Trouble?” He asks quietly brushing some hair from her face and kissing her hairline.

She looks up into his eyes and nods at him. “I’m good Styles. You?” She whispers back as the burning sensation melts into something of toe-curling pleasure.

He nods as a heart-stopping grin splits across his face and he leans close to place a few kisses on her lips. “I wish I could be inside this pussy, all day, every day. You know that?”

She whines and starts to move a little, grinding forward causing him to graze that spot that makes her eyes roll back, she gasps a little and Harry didn’t know he could be this fucking turned on. She repeats that motion a few times before finally getting her knees in the right position to start bouncing up and down on him. He watches her with those green eyes as Y/n starts to move up and down.

Her hands fly to his hair tugging it, as her lips clash against his messily. Feeling his lips on hers grounds her, her body shakes in pleasure as he grunts from her rough tugs on his hair which only sends shots of pleasure to her tummy. Why hadn’t she tried this position with him sooner? It felt so fucking good she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to last long. He’s so deep like this.

Harry’s hands move from her ass, travelling up her spine, ring-covered fingers gently dragging up her soft skin causing her to shiver, as they eventually fall back to her plush hips and help guide her.

As if he could read her mind, one of his big hands comes between them, right where they connect and he grazes her puffy clit. Pulling back from the kiss to tell her sweet nothings. 

“Keep going, Baby,” He encourages as she keeps up the pace. Making sure each bounce she gets him inside her deeper and deeper. His fingers are still persistent on her causing shockwaves of pleasure to wash over her.

Her hands move to his muscular shoulders and she wraps herself up in his embrace, her face right in his neck as she listens to the moans and sounds he makes. She squeezes her eyes shut and focuses on the rhythm until eventually she feels him pounding against that spongy spot inside her and she cries out involuntarily.

“Fuck, Daddy,” She says breathlessly as he brings her face up to meet his in a kiss. His big hand pawing at her warm cheek. His lips captured all the filthy noises from her mouth but did little to prevent the sounds that filled the room from quietening. Her wet pussy swallowed up his prick greedily, all wet tight and hot on him, as his balls slap against her ass, and their lips smack in a messy kiss.

He wants to stay in this moment forever. The perfect rhythm, like their bodies were always meant to be connected like. Asone. She pulls back with a gasp, her legs beginning to shake from pleasure and strain. “Atta girl,” He says. “Doing so good for Daddy, Baby.”

His hand slides to her throat gently caressing her neck, and she claws at his arm desperately. “I’m close,” 

And just like that all the control and slight dominance she’d had is gone out the window as she begs him to help her through it. Her hips stutter and her bouncing lessens.  “Please, Daddy, can I?”

He nods kissing her nose. “Need some help, Trouble?”

She nods desperately and his hand moves from her throat to around her waist and he holds her still hovering over him, he plunges inside her again but this time he’s the one in control. With no warning he begins to pound into her hitting the sweet spot inside her over and over, but harder than ever. She feels an overwhelming feeling in her tummy as her hole flutters around him.

“Daddy,” She whispers. “M’ guna’ cum. Please, don’t stop.”

Harry has the nerve to chuckle, despite how close he is too, that devilish grin covering his face as he watches her falling apart for him. “Come on Angel, cum for me. Be Daddy’s good girl and cum.”

As his words melt down her spine she cums, just like that. Her eyes squeeze shut and she sees a golden haze of warmth behind her eyelids, the feel of her release is like a crack of thunder as his merciless thrusts inside her do not cease when the peak of her orgasms snaps. She throws her head back and shivers uncontrollably, thighs shaking as she takes him.

Harry continues, and when she finally manages to pry her eyes open and meet his gaze she feels his thrusts go sloppy. She leans in to kiss him, an overwhelming sense of safety and comfort in this bubble fills her mind, and when she pulls back she smiles. 

“Cum, Daddy,” She says. “Wanna feel full of you.”

He moans, his eyes pinching shut, and that's when she feels him shoot inside her. She sighs contently letting him ride the high of his orgasm before they slowly melt into the couch. She didn't dare move yet, even though he’d gone soft. When he opens his eyes she brushes some of his mused hair back. “Kiss me, Styles,”

He leans in, a smirk cast over his face, before pecking her lips.

She smiles at him. “So…what are we wearing at the party tonight?”

He sighs throwing his head back in defeat. He knows he’ll be going, those damn puppy dogs and her little pouty face. He begins leaning in and nudging his nose along her neck. She giggles at the feeling.

“What's the theme?” He drawls.

“Umm..cops robbers and sluts?” Y/n says softly.

Harry looks up at her. “You should go as a robber, Trouble.”

Y/n smiles, puzzled at that comment. “Why?”

He smirks placing one of his hands on his chest. “You’ve stolen my heart,”

She leans in and kisses him. “Good luck getting that one back, sap.”

THANKS FOR READING!!!! XXX

[silkpagess]

Out of Office, into you

Summary: Y/N lands her dream job and definitely does not plan on falling for Harry Styles — her charming, too-handsome coworker with rolled-up sleeves and a knack for ruining her concentration. What starts as harmless flirtation over office coffee runs, late-night texts, and passive-aggressive Google Docs turns into romance and a very unexpected ending. She was just trying to survive her probation period. Now she’s wearing his sweater.

Content Warning: Light smut scene.

Word Count: 11,308

If Y/N had a pound for every time someone told her how “lucky” she was to land a job at Maven & Moore, she could’ve retired before even walking through the front doors.

Instead, she stood in the middle of their marble-tiled lobby—portfolio tucked under one arm, nerves simmering beneath a very carefully chosen cream blazer—reminding herself she belonged here.

The agency was sleek and modern, buzzing with creative chaos: voices bouncing off glass walls, interns speed-walking with coffee trays, and the faint smell of eucalyptus diffuser oil that was trying (and failing) to mask the scent of collective burnout.

She was five minutes early, but she liked to be early. People noticed that kind of thing. Especially in a place like this.

A receptionist with blunt bangs and effortless cool smiled at her. “Y/N Y/L/N?”

“That’s me,” she replied, bright and breezy.

“HR will grab you in a sec. In the meantime, here’s your welcome kit—badge, laptop, schedule… and a company pen no one ever uses.”

Y/N laughed softly, slipping the folder under her arm. She didn’t care about the pen. She wanted her desk. Her first meeting. Her first opportunity to prove that she wasn’t just another hire—she was the hire.

And that’s when she noticed him.

Harry Styles. 

She’d heard about him in whispers during her interview rounds—strategist turned creative lead, impossible to hate, stupidly charming. But no one had mentioned he was hot.

Of course, she’d never admit that aloud.

Short brown curls, neatly trimmed. White T-shirt under a dark overshirt, sleeves rolled just enough to show forearms that looked too good for someone who probably spent most of his day typing. He was deep in conversation with someone, hands moving as he spoke, but he glanced over just long enough to meet her eyes—and smile.

It was subtle. Polite.

But curious.

“Hey,” said a soft voice behind her. HR had arrived. “Ready to see where the magic happens?”

Y/N gave one last glance at Harry and followed the woman toward the elevator.

⸻

The seventh floor was less sleek than the lobby and more chaotic—in a good way. Desks arranged in near-symmetrical clusters, walls pinned with half-finished campaigns and color palettes, the occasional potted plant trying to stay alive under industrial lighting.

They weaved past clusters of people already in meetings or arguing over font sizes.

“Your team lead is Harry,” HR said, motioning toward a desk near the windows. “You’ll be working closely with him. And—”

“I know who he is,” Y/N said, a little too quickly.

The woman smiled like she knew something Y/N didn’t. “He’s… sharp. But collaborative. And you’ve got quite the resume—everyone’s excited to see what you’ll do here.”

No pressure.

⸻

Y/N tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as the HR rep left her with a cheery “Good luck!” and disappeared into the chaos. For a moment, she just stood there, blinking at her new desk.

It was… perfect. Sunlight pooled across the light wood surface, a sleek monitor already set up beside a few branded notebooks and—why not—a tiny succulent in a too-small pot. She sat down gingerly, unsure if she was allowed to, and traced the rim of her coffee cup just to keep her hands busy.

“Morning.”

Her stomach did a dumb little flip. She looked up—and there he was.

“Hi,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t come out weirdly high. “I’m Y/N.”

“I know,” he smiled. “I read your portfolio last week. You’re good.”

Oh. She tried not to beam. Tried even harder not to let that weird, fluttery warmth crawl up her neck.

“Thanks,” she replied. “I mean… thank you. I’m excited to be here.”

“You’ll fit in just fine.” Then he nodded toward his desk—adjacent to hers, naturally. “We’re seatmates, by the way. If I’m typing too loud or swearing at my inbox, just throw something.”

“Got it. Stapler or pen?”

He grinned. “Surprise me.”

⸻

The first week passed in a blur of logins, introductions, and cautiously making sense of company Slack channels with names like #meme-dump and #fontfights. But through all the buzz and buzzwords, Harry was there. Not hovering—never that—but orbiting close enough to feel like a safety net. An annoyingly good-looking, absurdly competent safety net.

He helped her navigate the folder system during her second morning, leaning over her shoulder with a half-eaten banana in one hand and pointing at her screen. She was hyper-aware of his cologne—clean, sharp, and vaguely citrusy—and the way his laugh rumbled low when he said, “Okay, no, ignore everything that says ‘Final_v3_Revised_REAL_FINAL’—those are all lies.”

By the end of the first week, they had a rhythm.

Harry was focused and fast—too fast sometimes, tossing out ideas that made her brain spin just to keep up. But he never made her feel behind. If anything, he seemed to enjoy her questions, even when she doubted herself. He’d tilt his head, lips tugging at the corner in that half-smile she was starting to recognize as his version of you’ve got this, and say, “Okay, walk me through what you’re thinking.”

He actually listened.

She learned his habits quickly. Mornings meant iced coffee—black, no sugar. He always stretched before meetings, standing up and doing a lazy twist at the waist that made his shirt ride up just enough to be distracting. His desk was somehow always clean, save for a few random objects that rotated weekly: a stress ball shaped like a brain, a tiny pink disco ball, once even a framed photo of a goose in sunglasses.

“Is that… your goose?” she asked.

“It’s aspirational,” he deadpanned. “His name’s Todd.”

The second week was when the teasing began.

Soft at first—little quips, exaggerated sighs when she disagreed with a design choice, mock horror when she said she’d never seen The Godfather. He’d roll his eyes dramatically and say, “You’re lucky you’re clever,” or “That’s borderline offensive, Y/N.”

One Thursday, she brought in homemade banana bread. He took a bite, closed his eyes, and moaned just loudly enough to make the nearby intern snort with laughter.

“Jesus,” she muttered, cheeks flaming.

“I’m expressing gratitude,” he said, mouth still full. “This is an emotional experience.”

The rest of the team adored him, of course. But there was something different about the way he was with her. It was subtle—no lines crossed—but it was there.

He saved her a seat during team huddles, even when others were scrambling. He remembered how she took her tea. He walked her out on late nights, hands in his pockets and easy smiles that lingered when they said goodbye at the corner.

There were moments.

Moments when their eyes held for just a second too long. When his fingers brushed hers while passing a printout. When she’d catch him watching her across the room with something unreadable in his gaze—like he was trying to solve her, piece by piece.

By the third week, her coworkers had started noticing.

“You and Harry,” Sarah from the art department said casually over lunch, stabbing a fork into her kale. “There’s a bit of a… vibe, huh?”

Y/N choked on her water. “What? No. No vibe. We just work well together.”

“Mmhmm.” Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Right. That’s what they always say.”

Y/N tried to brush it off, but her mind replayed the way Harry had leaned over her earlier that morning, hand braced on the back of her chair, murmuring about a slide change while her pulse decided to drum in her ears.

It didn’t help that they texted now. Mostly work stuff. Memes. Occasionally a “You see this shit?” followed by a screenshot of some client’s over-the-top email.

Okay, sometimes a good morning or don’t forget your umbrella—looks like rain.

She told herself it didn’t mean anything. That she was imagining things. That this wasn’t that kind of story.

But then came week four.

A Friday afternoon. Almost five. The office thinning out. She was finishing up a brief when Harry appeared beside her, chewing on a pen cap like he didn’t know how distracting that was.

“Wanna help me choose a playlist for the client dinner next week?” he asked. “They’re young, rich, and impossible to please.”

“Dangerous combination,” she said, standing to stretch.

He tilted his head. “You’re not doing anything, are you?”

“I’m working.”

“You’re scrolling through fonts.”

“Which is important.”

“Which is pointless. Come on.”

So they spent the next twenty minutes arguing over songs—her trying to convince him Phoebe Bridgers was dinner-friendly, him making a case for Sade. He queued up a slow R&B track, and as the music filled their corner of the office, something thickened in the air.

It was quiet. Just the two of them, dusk falling outside the windows.

And then he looked at her. Really looked at her. Not with a smirk. Not in that teasing way.

Something softer. Warmer.

“I like working with you,” he said.

Her breath hitched.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

He smiled. That real one—the one that crinkled at the corners.

If she hadn’t said what she said the following week… maybe things would’ve gone differently.

But she did. And everything changed.

⸻

It happened on a Tuesday.

Tuesdays were typically uneventful—somewhere between “still recovering from Monday” and “not yet caffeinated enough to look forward to Friday.” The kind of day you just endured. But this one, unfortunately, stood out.

Y/N had arrived ten minutes late, thanks to a torrential downpour and a very dramatic umbrella collapse in the middle of Lexington Avenue. Her shoes were soaked. Her hair was in that annoying state between damp and frizzy. She trudged into the office with the grace of a drowned squirrel.

Harry, of course, was already there. Dry. Perfect. Typing away like a storm hadn’t just swallowed half the city.

She dropped her bag, muttering under her breath. “You’d think someone who’s always five minutes early would at least pretend to be human on rainy days.”

He glanced over, smiled, and said, “You made it. That’s all that matters.”

She groaned. “How do you always look this pulled together? It’s very ‘main character in a bookshop who also solves crimes on the side.’”

Harry tilted his head, the grin tugging at his lips. “You think I solve crimes?”

“You’d have a trench coat. And a mysterious past.”

He smirked. “Don’t forget a tragic ex.”

“Oh, definitely,” she replied, already laughing.

The morning carried on as usual—meetings, edits, half-eaten breakfast bars. Their team had a major pitch scheduled for the afternoon, so nerves were high, but so was the energy. Harry, as the lead, carried the meeting effortlessly. He always did. Smooth, confident, completely in control of the room without being arrogant about it. Even the clients seemed charmed—leaning in, laughing, nodding too enthusiastically.

Y/N watched from beside him, impressed, as always. Maybe even a little too impressed.

⸻

Later that afternoon, the creative team gathered in the lounge for a quick regroup. Someone had brought muffins, there were soft drinks sweating on the table, and Harry—fresh from a meeting—was leaned back in a chair, sleeves rolled, the top buttons of his shirt undone.

Everyone was a little punch-drunk from the long hours. Conversation bounced around, people cracking jokes, poking fun at themselves.

Someone said, “You two are basically the dream team now. Give it a few more weeks and we’ll all be obsolete.”

Harry smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the robots treat you kindly.”

Y/N, flushed from the compliment and still riding a weird high from the day, laughed and said, a little too loudly, a little too easily:

“Please. People listen to you because you’ve got that voice that makes everything sound like it matters. I could say the same exact thing and no one would even blink—you say it and suddenly it’s strategy.”

She meant it playfully.

But as soon as it was out there—hanging in the middle of the room—she felt it.

The shift.

A few people laughed. A few looked down at their phones. But Harry’s face didn’t change right away. He smiled—sort of. But not the way he normally did.

There was something about the way he blinked once, slow and deliberate, before saying, “Wow. Thanks for that.”

He didn’t sound angry. But he didn’t sound amused, either.

She opened her mouth to respond, to explain, to soften it—but he was already standing, brushing muffin crumbs off his trousers.

“I’ve got a call,” he muttered, to no one in particular, and left the room.

⸻

The fallout was subtle.

Not immediate. Not dramatic.

But she felt it the next day.

He still greeted her. Still responded to questions. Still made notes in the shared doc they were editing. But it was all… different.

He didn’t nudge her coffee mug toward her like he used to. Didn’t ask what she was listening to when she wore headphones. Didn’t drop sarcastic commentary during team meetings just to make her laugh.

Everything was suddenly crisp. Clean. Professional.

It was like the light had dimmed between them.

She spent the rest of the week overanalyzing. Replaying the moment. Rewriting her words in her head until they no longer sounded like a jab.

It had been a compliment, in a way—she’d meant that he was compelling, that people gravitated toward him, that she noticed. But it had come out like an accusation. Like she was reducing his skill to tone and charisma instead of craft.

And Harry, for all his confidence, didn’t take kindly to being dismissed—even unintentionally.

⸻

By Friday, she’d all but given up on trying to fix it at work. Harry wasn’t cold, exactly—but the warmth was gone. The inside jokes, the easy rhythm, the small moments where he used to look at her like she was actually seen? Gone.

So naturally, she did what anyone does when they’re spiraling: She called her two best  friends and asked them to meet her at a bar.

They picked their usual place. Ava was already there when Y/N arrived, sipping something neon out of a glass shaped like a lightbulb.

“I got you the second-least sugary drink on the menu,” Ava said, holding up a glass. “The least sugary one looked like cough syrup.” 

Y/N took the drink and slumped into the seat. “I said something stupid.”

“That’s kind of your thing, though,” Ava said brightly. “Be more specific.”

Before Y/N could respond, Clara slid into the booth like a woman on a mission. She was already peeling off her scarf and dumping her massive tote onto the floor.

“Sorry, sorry—I got cornered by that guy from my gym who thinks we have a connection because we both own water bottles. What’s happening? Who’s dumb? Is it you?”

“It’s me,” Y/N said, taking a long sip. “And it’s bad.”

“Ohhh, good,” Clara said, cracking her knuckles. “Tell me everything.”

Y/N hesitated, then groaned. “I kind of… made a joke about Harry. In front of the team. Like, during a casual moment after a meeting.”

Clara raised a brow. “Define joke.”

“I said people only listen to him because of his voice.”

Ava blinked. “Like… his actual voice?”

“Yeah. Like, his vocal cords. The way he talks.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Oh, babe,” Clara said gently. “That’s a tiny bit brutal.”

“I know! I meant it in a compliment-y way! Like, ‘your voice is compelling, you're charismatic’—but it came out like I was saying he doesn't have to actually know anything because he sounds hot while talking.”

Ava winced. “That’s rough. Accurate… but rough.”

“It was a joke!” Y/N protested. “You know the kind of joke you make when you're tired and riding an adrenaline crash and your mouth decides to go rogue before your brain catches up?”

“Oh, like the time Clara told her cousin she had a ‘very confident nose’ at her wedding?” Ava offered.

Clara lifted her glass. “It was objectively bold.”

Y/N let her head fall onto the sticky table. “He looked at me like I kicked his childhood dog. And now he’s just… normal. Like painfully polite. It’s like I got demoted to coworker.”

“Well, you are coworkers,” Ava pointed out.

“Yeah, but I was, like, coworker-plus,” she mumbled into the wood. “There was banter. There was eye contact. He brought me coffee once and remembered I don’t like the syrupy stuff.”

“Damn,” Clara said, biting a fry. “That’s practically intimacy.”

“So now what?” Ava asked. “Are you gonna apologize or just emotionally decompose in front of him until retirement?”

Y/N groaned. “I don’t know. I keep thinking about how close we were to something. I could feel it. And now it’s like I slammed a door I didn’t mean to.”

Clara studied her for a moment. “Do you like him?”

Y/N paused. “I like working with him.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

She sighed. “I don’t not like him.”

Ava leaned forward, eyes lighting up. “Okay, so here’s what you do: you ask him out.”

“I cannot ask him out.”

“Why not?” Clara demanded.

“Because we work together! And I’ve already embarrassed myself!”

“Perfect,” Clara said. “Start from the bottom. Nowhere to go but up.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I,” she said, dipping a fry in ketchup. 

Y/N stared at them both. “And if he says no?”

Ava shrugged. “Then he says no. It’s not a Greek tragedy. It’s just a guy.”

Clara leaned back in the booth and looked at her like she was tired of being gentle. “Y/N, come on. You’ve been tap-dancing around your feelings for a month. You clearly like him. And he liked you too—until you made him feel like he was some shiny toy with a good voice and nothing else.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Y/N muttered.

“No one ever does,” Clara said. “That’s why it sucks.”

They were quiet for a second, the music from the bar pulsing low around them. Someone at the next table was aggressively describing a break-up in full detail.

Then Ava leaned in, her tone softer this time. “Okay, listen. You made a dumb comment. It happens. You’re not a monster. You’re not doomed. But if you keep sitting in this guilt spiral like it’s a beanbag chair you refuse to get out of, you’re gonna waste something that could’ve actually been good.”

“I don’t even know what it was,” Y/N whispered. “I just knew it felt… different.”

“Then tell him that,” Clara said, matter-of-fact. “Tell him you said something dumb. Tell him it came out wrong. Tell him he matters to you—even if it’s just as a friend, or whatever the hell this is. But don’t just let it fade away because you’re scared of looking messy.”

“I hate looking messy,” Y/N said, frowning.

“I know,” Ava said. “You love the illusion of control. It’s very chic.”

“But—”

“Y/N,” Clara cut in. “No more ‘but.’ Just text him. Don’t plan a speech. Don’t write a script in your Notes app. Just be a human woman who said something weird and wants to make it right.”

Y/N slumped deeper into the booth and sighed dramatically. “God, I hate when you’re both right.”

“Drink up” Ava said, pushing the glass toward her. “And text him before you overthink it so hard your thumbs fall off.”

—

Back in her apartment, the night felt too quiet in that way city nights sometimes do — muffled cars passing outside, the low hum of a neighbor’s TV bleeding through the wall. Y/N stood in the doorway for a second, coat half on, bag sliding off her shoulder, feeling like her body had arrived home before her mind did.

She dropped everything on the floor. Didn’t bother turning on more than one lamp.

Her makeup was smudged, but she didn’t check. Her hair smelled like fried food from the bar, and her socks were damp at the heel. It had started to drizzle halfway through her walk home — of course it had.

She changed into her oldest sweatshirt — the oversized gray one that said “Property of No One” across the front — and sank onto the couch like her bones weighed more than usual.

Her phone was already in her hand. She didn’t remember picking it up.

She stared at Harry’s name.

For a while, she didn’t type anything. She just let the screen glow against her face while her thumb hovered, frozen, like maybe he’d magically know she was thinking about him. Or regretting every sentence she’d said to him all week.

Then, finally, she typed:

hey. i think i owe you a proper apology.

She paused. Watched the cursor blink. That didn’t feel like enough.

i didn’t mean what i said the other day to come out like that.it sounded flippant but it wasn’t. you’re actually…

She stopped. Groaned.

Deleted the whole thing.

Rewrote it:

hey. i’ve been thinking about what i said the other day. and i hate that it might’ve come off the wrong way. i know i made it sound like you get by on charm, but i hope you know i’ve never thought that.

That felt better. Maybe.

Then she deleted half of it again. Too long. Too heavy. Too much.

She let her phone fall to her chest and stared at the ceiling. There was a crack up there she kept meaning to patch. Or maybe it was just a shadow. Either way, she didn’t move.

Eventually, she sat back up and typed:

hey. i feel like i owe you a drink or an actual apology that isn’t in front of ten coworkers. if you’re around next week… maybe we could fix that.

She read it over three times.

Then hit send.

There was no dramatic sigh. No tossing the phone like it burned her. Just a long, slow exhale as she set it down on the coffee table and pulled her knees up to her chest.. She just sat there, heart heavy and fingers twitching, hoping he still saw her the way he used to.

Hoping it wasn’t too late.

—

Y/N woke up before her alarm.

She blinked at the ceiling for a few seconds, not quite ready to face the day but too alert to keep pretending to be asleep. Her mouth tasted like the drink from the night before and her back ached slightly from falling asleep on the couch again, curled into the same throw blanket she always used.

She reached for her phone out of habit, thumbing through the usual—news notifications, a calendar reminder she’d ignore, an unread email from a store she didn’t remember subscribing to.

And then, at the top of her messages:

Harry Styles 1:43 AM

Her thumb paused. She tapped it.

you don’t owe me anything but yeah I’d like that

A second message followed:

next week’s wide open. name a day.

She read it twice. Then again.

No dramatics. No “let’s talk” or “what you said hurt.” Just… neutral. Still, it didn’t feel cold. It felt like he was giving her the option to move things forward without making it a thing.

It was more than she expected. It was… actually kind of perfect.

She sat up, rubbing her eye with the heel of her palm, and muttered, “Okay.”

The apartment was too quiet, so she turned on the kettle and stood barefoot on the cold kitchen tiles, scrolling through potential bars nearby. Not anywhere too fancy—that would look like she was trying too hard. Not the dive near work either. She’d run into someone from the office, and the whole point was not to make this a watercooler topic.

She made toast, added too much butter, and leaned her hip against the counter while typing her reply.

how do you feel about tuesday? somewhere low-key. i promise to behave this time.

She stared at the last line for a second. It felt light enough. Honest, but not clingy.

She hit send.

Then she took a bite of her toast, still slightly warm, and set her phone down on the counter without waiting for the little “read” checkmark.

She’d figure out the details later.

But Tuesday? That was something.

—

The weekend came and went, but Harry never really left her mind.

She kept it together. Ran errands. Cleaned her apartment like she was trying to wipe her brain clean, too. Pretended to be annoyed when Clara asked for updates every six hours, and avoided Ava’s “so have you planned your outfit yet” texts entirely.

She didn’t spiral. But she did think about him. Often. And especially when she didn’t want to.

By Monday morning, she’d half convinced herself it was fine. Normal. Just drinks. Just Harry. Nothing to freak out about.

Then she saw him.

—

She was walking toward the kitchen with her mug in hand—already mentally preparing herself for the weak office coffee—when she saw him rounding the corner.

He was wearing one of those outfits that somehow looked unintentional and perfect at the same time: navy trousers, a white t-shirt under a dark cardigan, and a lanyard he never actually needed but wore anyway. Hair slightly messier than usual, eyes sharp but calm.

They locked eyes for a second.

And then he smiled. A real one. Not the tight, clipped one from last week. Not forced, not tense.

Just… easy.

“Morning,” he said, stepping aside so she could pass.

“Morning,” she replied, matching his tone—cool, casual. No big deal.

He held the kitchen door open for her and followed her in. She was painfully aware of the two feet of space between them. Of how normal this was. And how not-normal it felt, knowing tomorrow night they’d be sitting in a bar alone and trying to be honest again.

“How was your weekend?” he asked, pouring himself a coffee.

She shrugged lightly. “Quiet. Tried to do laundry. Failed.”

Harry chuckled. “Strong effort, though.”

“What about you?”

“Visited my mum,” he said, stirring his coffee. “She made me take home leftovers like I hadn’t eaten in three weeks.”

Y/N smiled, distracted for a second by the image of him sitting in a kitchen somewhere warm, fending off Tupperware with a half-hearted protest.

“Big week?” she asked.

He looked at her then—really looked—and said, “Not until tomorrow.”

Her breath caught for just a split second. But she held steady.

“Right,” she said, soft. “Tomorrow.”

He didn’t say anything else. Just gave her the smallest nod, like he was confirming they were still good. Still on the same page.

And then he left the room. It made her stomach flip a little. Not in a bad way. Just in the okay-so-this-is-really-happening kind of way.

—

The next day, she found herself in front of her closet at 5:40 p.m., half-dressed and whispering curses under her breath. Nothing looked right. Everything felt too try-hard or not enough. She wasn’t trying to impress him, but she didn’t want to look like she’d come straight from work either.

Eventually, she landed on a black knit top, a leather jacket, and the jeans that actually fit her the way she liked. Comfortable. Sharp enough to feel put together, soft enough to feel like herself.

She didn’t overthink it.

Well—she did. But she still left the apartment on time.

—

Tuesday, 7:06 p.m.

Y/N got there first.

She always did, mostly because it gave her control. Over the setting, the nerves, the awkward hello. She chose a small table in the back near the window—far enough from the bar to hear each other, close enough to the door that she didn’t have to pretend she was doing something else while she waited.

Her phone stayed face-down on the table. Her drink—gin and tonic, no frills—sat half-finished when he walked in.

She looked up and felt that little jolt. The one that had started happening more often lately.

Harry had on a dark sweater, black coat draped over one arm, and that same kind of quiet confidence he wore so naturally, like he wasn’t trying at all. His hair looked freshly pushed back, a little messy at the ends, and the gold chain at his neck caught the warm bar lighting just enough to be annoying.

He spotted her immediately.

“Hey,” he said, smiling as he slid into the seat across from her.

“Hey.” She mirrored the smile, unsure what to do with her hands, so she adjusted her sleeves unnecessarily. “You found it okay?”

“Did a loop around the block like an idiot first, but yeah.”

There was a beat of quiet while he looked over the menu. She studied his face briefly while he wasn’t looking—he looked a little tired, but relaxed. Comfortable.

A server came by and he ordered a whisky neat. Simple.

“So,” he said once they were alone again, resting his forearms on the table. “No work talk, right?”

“Right. Fully banned.”

“Can I at least ask how your day was?”

She grinned. “Only if you want a very detailed play-by-play about me arguing with a printer.”

“Tempting.”

Conversation started slow—small things. What she was reading lately. A movie he watched twice in one weekend out of boredom. It wasn’t tense, but there was still a strange politeness between them. Like neither of them knew how far they could lean in just yet.

Eventually, she took a sip of her drink and leaned back, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Okay,” she said. “Let me just get this part out of the way.”

Harry tilted his head. “The part where you apologize?”

She made a face. “Yeah.”

He nodded slowly. “Go on then.”

She smiled despite herself. “I really am sorry for what I said last week. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

“I know you didn’t,” he said, not looking away.

“It was a dumb thing to say.”

“You’ve said worse.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “Have I?”

He shrugged, his mouth twitching. “You once called me ‘a walking Pinterest board for rich introverts.’”

She burst out laughing. “That was objectively accurate.”

“Still hurtful,” he said, mock serious.

“I thought you liked being called mysterious.”

“I like being called brilliant,” he replied, grinning now. “Or at the very least, devastatingly handsome.”

“Oh my god,” she laughed, shaking her head. “There it is.”

“There what is?”

“That thing you do. Where you say something cocky but somehow get away with it because your delivery is so smooth.”

“Is it working now?”

She tried not to smile. Failed. “A little.”

Harry leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand. “That’s good. Because I was actually kind of nervous about tonight.”

“You were?” she asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” he said simply. “Didn’t know if this would be weird. Or if you’d show up just to cross it off your list of regrets.”

She paused. “I thought you might not show.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“I don’t know. You were… different last week.”

“You made a weird comment. I sulked about it. Then you texted me, and I realized I’d rather have one awkward drink with you than spend another week pretending like I don’t miss our conversations.”

Her heart skipped. Just once, but enough to notice.

“Oh,” she said softly. “Well. I missed them too.”

He smiled again—softer this time. “Good. Let’s not mess it up again.”

“No promises.”

He lifted his glass. “To a fresh start?”

She clinked hers against his. “To pretending we’re not both weird about feelings.”

He laughed into his drink.

And just like that, the tension finally cracked—melted under the ease they used to have, the banter slipping back into place like it had just been waiting for one of them to say the right thing.

—

The change didn’t happen all at once.

There was no grand declaration, no dramatic pause in the hallway while someone said I think I like you. It was slower than that—quieter. But it was real. And Y/N felt it.

Especially at work.

The morning after their not-date date, Harry walked into the office with two coffees in hand—hers already made exactly how she liked it—and dropped it on her desk without a word. Just a smirk. She looked up at him, slightly suspicious.

“Is this a peace offering or a bribe?”

He leaned against her desk, took a sip of his own coffee. “Neither. Just wanted to give you something that wouldn’t get me in trouble with HR.”

She laughed, cheeks warming. “Well. Thank you. I’ll only report you if it’s decaf.”

That became the pattern.

Little things. A muffin on her chair. A sticky note doodle left on his monitor. Her pulling his headphones off without warning, only to find him already smiling like he knew she was going to.

At meetings, he sat next to her every time. Sometimes too close. Once, she caught his foot nudging hers under the conference table. She glared at him. He winked.

They weren’t trying to hide it exactly. But they weren’t announcing anything either. Mostly because they didn’t know what this was. Not yet. But it felt like something.

And outside the office? That was changing too.

They texted now. All the time.

It started with casual stuff—TikToks, screenshots of unhinged client emails, memes with captions like you this morning in the kitchen. But then it shifted.

Late night: HARRY: still awake? Y/N: debating if eating cereal at 1am makes me a genius or a gremlin HARRY: i vote genius Y/N: you would. you love chaos disguised as charm. HARRY: that feels like a compliment Y/N: ...it wasn’t HARRY: still taking it

And then there were the lunches.

The first one was spontaneous—she’d had a horrible morning, and Harry had caught her glaring at her screen like it had personally betrayed her. Without a word, he grabbed her coat and said, “Come on. We’re getting real food.”

Now it was routine.

Sometimes they went to the café two blocks down where the barista knew their names. Other days, they grabbed takeout and ate it on a bench outside, their knees bumping lightly as they unwrapped sandwiches and talked about everything except work.

He asked questions—real ones. Not just polite filler. Stuff like what kind of kid were you?, what scares you the most but also secretly thrills you?, have you ever been in love?She dodged that last one.

But she asked things back. She wanted to know the small stuff. What his sister was like. Why he always smelled like cedar and oranges. How he got into this industry at all.

And now, they had another date planned.

Set for Friday.

Not just drinks. Dinner this time. Somewhere cozy, tucked away in the West Village, with low lights and too many candles.

He’d picked it. Told her it was “low-pressure.” Then followed it up with: but i might wear a proper shirt, just in case you bring up my tragic introvert wardrobe again.

She was nervous. But not in a bad way. In a something’s unfolding and I don’t want to mess it up kind of way.

At the office on Thursday afternoon, she caught him looking at her from across the room during a meeting. Not intense. Not dramatic. Just... there. Quietly steady.

And when the meeting ended and people began to file out, he stayed behind.

Walked up to her. Close enough to make her heart tick a little faster.

“Tomorrow,” he said, low and easy.

She raised a brow. “Still on?”

He tilted his head, smiling. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

—

The place he picked was small, tucked into a quiet West Village block, glowing with warm light through the windows and smelling faintly of rosemary and wine. It felt relaxed, cozy. The kind of restaurant that didn’t need to be loud to be cool.

Y/N spotted him at a corner table near the back, nursing a drink and scrolling his phone. He looked comfortable there, legs stretched a little too far under the table, one hand resting on the rim of his glass.

He looked up before she could say anything. His smile appeared instantly—soft, a little crooked, and warm enough to make her stomach flip.

“Hey,” he said, standing as she reached the table. “You made it.”

“You sound surprised.”

He shrugged. “I was half-convinced you’d flake just to maintain the mystery.”

“I’m not that unpredictable,” she said, sliding into the seat across from him.

“Mm. Jury’s out.”

There was a moment where his eyes lingered—not in a heavy way, but in a way that made it very obvious he noticed what she was wearing. The corner of his mouth twitched, but he didn’t say anything.

The waiter came and went. He let her choose the wine, teasing her about pretending to read the menu like she wasn’t going to pick based on the vibe of the label.

Conversation flowed easily—Harry had a way of keeping things light without letting them turn shallow. He asked about her week. She asked if he’d ever gotten around to fixing the broken drawer in his kitchen he’d been complaining about. He hadn’t.

But somewhere between the second glass of wine and the plate of shared pasta, something shifted.

He leaned in a little closer when she spoke. Not dramatically—just enough to make it feel like her words were meant only for him. When she reached across the table to grab the salt, he didn’t pull his hand away right away when their fingers brushed.

And once—just once—he let his hand rest on the side of the table, close enough that her knee grazed it.

If he noticed, he didn’t say anything.

If she moved her leg slightly closer… well, he didn’t move his hand either.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he said after a beat.

She looked up at him, surprised. “Am I?”

“A little. Thought maybe you were nervous.”

She smiled into her glass. “Why would I be nervous?”

He shrugged, mouth curving. “Because I’m very charming and slightly annoying. That combination tends to throw people off.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re more subtle than that.”

“I can be,” he said, tone a little lower now. “Sometimes.”

The air went still for a second, like the moment hovered somewhere between teasing and something else. But then the waiter returned with the check, and Harry leaned back again, letting the tension settle without pushing it.

When they left the restaurant, it was still early enough that the city wasn’t completely quiet. The streets were lit up, but calm. She walked beside him, hands in her pockets.

He didn’t grab her hand. He didn’t pull her close.

But his shoulder bumped hers once, gently. Then again, intentionally.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” he said after a while, voice quiet now.

“You’re welcome.”

They stopped at the corner, waiting for the light to change. He turned slightly toward her, looking at her fully now. His eyes were soft, but direct.

“I like this,” he said. “You and me, like this.”

Y/N felt something warm creep up her neck, but she didn’t look away. “I like it too.”

They stood there for a second too long.

Then he smiled again—smaller this time—and nodded toward the direction of the subway. “Can I walk you to the station?”

“You’re not trying to get me to come home with you?”

He raised an eyebrow. “What kind of man do you take me for?”

“The kind who flirts with his coworker for a month and finally asks her out?”

“I’ll have you know,” he said, gently bumping her arm with his, “I was professionally respectful for a solid three weeks.”

“Impressive,” she teased.

“I thought so.”

And as they kept walking, their arms brushed again. Neither of them moved.

—

Group Chat: “Chaos Committee 💅🔥🍷”

Clara: Sooo How’d it go last night?

Ava: Yeah don’t make us guess We were very respectfully trying not to text you during the entire dinner window 🙃

Y/N: Appreciate the restraint Also: it was nice Really nice, actually

Clara: Ugh You’re being vague You like him

Y/N: I do. I’m trying not to be annoying about it But yeah

Ava: Okay but give us something What was the vibe? Better than the first one?

Y/N: Yeah Way less awkward He was calm, funny, kind of... quiet but not in a bad way And he looked really good Wore that green shirt again

Clara: Oh. The shirt. The rolled sleeves shirt

Y/N: Yup Forearms out Rings on And the waiter definitely thought we were already together

Ava: As they should

Y/N: He was kind of extra warm last night Little touches here and there Like when I reached for my glass and his hand brushed mine Or how our knees kept bumping under the table and he didn’t move

Clara: So the tension was doing push-ups under the table Got it

Y/N: Basically He said “I like this. You and me, like this” Then immediately acted like he hadn’t just said something that made my brain stop functioning

Ava: That man is running a very calculated long game Respect

Clara: So… what happened after dinner?

Y/N: He walked me to the train Talked the whole way Lightly roasted my Spotify taste Then gave me this soft smile and told me to text when I got home

Clara: ...that’s it?

Y/N: Yup No kiss No lingering hand on the small of my back Just a really warm goodbye and the sense that he’s waiting for something

Ava: Waiting for you to make the next move maybe?

Y/N: I don’t know He’s so good at walking right up to the line and stopping Like he wants me to notice it but doesn’t want to cross it without me saying yes

Clara: Honestly I hate how respectful that is

Y/N: I know It’s actually making me lose my mind

Ava: Okay but you’re into it

Y/N: ...I’m very into it

Clara: So what now?

Y/N: I see him Monday And I’m pretending like it’s just another normal day And not like I’ve been thinking about his hand brushing my knee for 12 straight hours

Ava: Good plan That always works out great for people

Y/N: Shut up

—

Monday – Office, 10:42 a.m.

Work was work.

Emails. Edits. Slack notifications that piled up faster than she could read them. But Y/N couldn’t focus for more than fifteen minutes at a time without remembering the way Harry had looked at her Friday night. Or how he hadn’t kissed her. Or how she kind of loved that he hadn’t.

She was scrolling through a doc when she sensed him before she saw him—there was always something in the air when he walked by her desk, like her body clock recalibrated itself.

“Morning,” he said casually, appearing next to her chair with a cup of coffee and that effortlessly smug smile.

“Is this for me?” she asked, accepting it anyway.

“I figured you needed it,” he said, then leaned down slightly to whisper, “You were frowning at your screen like it owed you money.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling already. “Thanks.”

He didn’t leave right away. Just hovered at the edge of her desk for a few seconds, eyes scanning her face like he was trying to read something there.

“You want to eat together later?” he asked.

“Sure” she said “Meet you at the elevator later?”

“Sounds like a plan”.

—

Monday – Lunch Break

“Are you gonna judge me if I order two things off the specials menu?” Y/N asked, squinting at the little chalkboard propped up at the edge of their table.

Harry leaned back in his chair, half-smiling. “I’d only judge if you didn’t. What kind of monster comes to a place that smells like heaven and doesn’t over-order?”

She grinned, setting the menu down. “Alright, good. Just wanted to make sure we’re both mentally prepared for me to have a post-lunch food coma at my desk.”

“Can’t wait to watch you pretend to be productive while slowly falling asleep mid-email,” he said, stretching his legs out under the table until they accidentally brushed hers.

Neither of them moved.

They were tucked into a small two-person table by the window of the Italian place Harry had suggested—a quiet spot with sun spilling through the glass and just enough hum from other tables to feel private. The food smelled ridiculous. Garlic, butter, rosemary… 

When the waiter left with their orders, Harry glanced at her across the table. “You always get that serious when you read menus?”

“Yes,” she said. “It’s a high-stakes decision. This is lunch. I have to live with it for the rest of the afternoon.”

“That’s true. It does define your mood for at least three hours.”

“Exactly.”

“I respect that.”

She sipped her water and watched him tilt his head slightly, like he was studying her. “What?” she asked.

He smiled. “Nothing. I just like seeing you outside the office.”

She blinked. “We text constantly.”

“Yeah, but that’s different. In person you make these little faces when you’re thinking—like right now, you’re trying not to smile.”

She covered her mouth with her hand, failing miserably to hide it. “I hate that you notice stuff like that.”

“I’m very observant.”

“You’re very smug.”

He raised his glass to her. “Also true.”

The food arrived a few minutes later—her pasta, his risotto—and they both took their first bites at the same time. Harry made a soft sound, not dramatic, just satisfied.

“Okay, that’s a throwback,” he said, sitting back a little.

“What is?”

He gestured toward his plate. “Risotto. My mum used to make it almost exactly like this. Creamy, garlicky, winey. I haven’t had it like this in years.”

Y/N raised her brows. “What happened, did she stop loving you?”

Harry smiled. “No. I just haven’t had anyone make it since I moved out. It's not exactly the kind of dish people whip up on a whim.”

“I do.”

“You make risotto?”

“Mushroom risotto. With wine. Sometimes thyme, if I’m feeling fancy.”

He stared at her, amused. “That’s dangerously specific.”

She shrugged. “It’s one of my go-to ‘I swear I’m a real adult’ meals. Feels impressive but it’s mostly just stirring and committing to the bit.”

Harry looked at her, eyes narrowed slightly like he was considering something. Then he said, slowly, “So when are you making it for me?”

Y/N blinked once. Twice. Then gave a small smirk. “Wow. Not even a subtle lead-in. You just jumped right to the invite.”

“Gotta keep up with you somehow,” he said, smiling easily now. “I’m not above being fed.”

She paused, then: “Friday?”

His expression softened, surprised but not caught off guard. “Yeah. I’d really like that.”

Y/N raised her brows as she twirled a bite of pasta. “No allergies? No weird food trauma I should know about before I commit to this dinner plan?”

Harry laughed, sitting back in his chair. “None. I eat everything. Except olives.”

She gasped. “What? Olives are elite.”

“They taste like brine and betrayal.”

“I’m still putting them in the salad,” she said. “You’ll deal.”

He pointed his fork at her. “You say that now, but you’re gonna be weirdly invested in whether I like it or not. I can already tell.”

She rolled her eyes, smiling. “I just don’t want to waste my good cooking on someone with broken taste buds.”

“Then you’ll have to find out if it’s worth the risk,” he said, voice low but playful, like there was a dare tucked into the words.

Her eyes held his for a beat too long. She looked away first—barely.

They both went back to eating, but the quiet between them wasn’t awkward. It was charged in that new way. Comfortable, but close to something else. Their legs brushed again under the table. Neither of them moved.

He went quiet for a beat, watching her as she gathered the last of her pasta onto her fork.

“I’m excited for Friday,” he said, almost offhand, but his eyes were too steady for it to be casual.

She looked up. “Who said it was a date?”

Harry smirked, didn’t miss a beat. “Me. I did. Mentally. While you were talking about thyme like it’s a love language.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard—and laughed. “Wow.”

“I stand by it,” he added, casually wiping his hand on a napkin. “You invite me over, cook for me, maybe pour me a glass of wine… that’s textbook date behavior. Page one.”

She tried to keep a straight face but failed miserably. “What if I burn it?”

“Then we order takeout,” he said, standing, grabbing both their receipts. “And it’s still a date. Just one with a fun plot twist.”

Y/N rolled her eyes as she followed him toward the door. “You’re annoyingly sure of yourself.”

Harry glanced back at her, holding the door open. “No,” he said, voice low but smiling. “I’m just sure about you.”

She froze for half a second. Then stepped past him, heat blooming in her chest and creeping up her neck.

He walked beside her all the way back to the office, hands in his pockets, like he hadn’t just said something that would replay in her head for the next four days straight.

They stepped into the elevator together. Just the two of them.

It was quiet inside—soft hum of motion, the faintest trace of cologne in the air. Y/N stood beside him, arms folded, eyes on the glowing numbers overhead like she hadn’t just invited him over for a dinner she now absolutely could not mess up.

Harry, on the other hand, was perfectly relaxed. Leaned casually against the wall, side-glancing at her with a look she pretended not to notice.

“Friday,” he said softly, not looking away.

“Seven,” she replied.

“I’ll bring the wine.”

“Good,” she said. “That’s your only job.”

He tilted his head. “And yours?”

She raised a brow. “Cooking. Obviously.”

He smirked, slow. “No. I mean your real job.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes slightly. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s my ‘real’ job?”

Harry let the pause stretch just enough to feel it. Then said, low and playful, “Try not to make me fall for you over risotto.”

Her stomach dipped. Hard.

She opened her mouth—maybe to reply, maybe to deflect—but the elevator dinged before she could say a word.

He stepped out first, like he hadn’t just dropped that and walked away.

And she followed, entirely aware she was already failing at that job.

—

7:03 p.m.

Y/N wasn’t nervous.

That’s what she told herself as she adjusted the straps of her top for the third time, checked the risotto on the stove for the fifth, and glanced at her phone for no real reason at all.

She wasn’t nervous. She was… anticipatory. Which was worse.

The apartment smelled like sautéed garlic, wine, and rosemary. Her playlist was low, something warm and rhythmic playing in the background. She’d cleaned. Lit two candles—not too many. She was wearing jeans and a simple black tank top that looked casual from far away but a little dangerous up close.

At exactly 7:06, there was a knock.

She wiped her palms on her thighs, walked to the door, and opened it—

—and forgot how to speak for a second.

Harry stood in the hallway, wine bottle in hand, coat open over a navy button-down that was just fitted enough to hint at the lines underneath. Sleeves rolled once, casually. Hair pushed back. Rings on. Slight scruff on his jaw like he hadn’t bothered shaving for the occasion, and it somehow made him look better.

“Hey,” he said, smile already tugging at his mouth. His voice low and smooth and a little too warm.

Y/N opened the door wider, trying to look unaffected. “You’re late.”

“By three minutes,” he said, stepping in. “You gonna punish me for it?”

She turned to walk back to the kitchen before he could see her smile. “Don’t tempt me.”

Harry’s eyes followed her. “Already am.”

She ignored that. Barely. “Wine goes on the counter. Glasses are in the cabinet to your left.”

He slipped off his coat and hung it on the back of a chair, the motion unhurried. His sleeves shifted higher, showing the veins along his forearms, and it was ridiculous how aware she was of every single movement he made. Like her whole body had decided to tune into just him.

He found the glasses without asking, poured two, and brought hers over like he’d done it a hundred times.

“Smells incredible,” he said, glancing at the pot on the stove. “Didn’t realize this would be a full sensory experience.”

She took the glass from him, their fingers brushing. “Didn’t realize you’d show up looking like you belong in a perfume ad.”

He tilted his head. “Is that a compliment or a threat?”

“A little of both.”

He leaned against the counter, swirling his wine lazily. “You’re already nervous.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. I can tell.”

She sipped her wine. “You’re very confident for someone about to eat food I made unsupervised.”

“Oh, I’m terrified,” he said, smile curling slowly. “But I’m also a risk-taker.”

“Really?” she asked, stepping just a little closer. “What kind of risks are we talking?”

Harry’s gaze dropped, briefly, to her mouth. “Ones that involve very pretty women in tank tops inviting me over and pretending it’s all casual.”

Y/N’s heart stuttered.

But she covered it with a dry, “You’re awfully chatty for someone who’s supposed to be quietly impressed.”

“I haven’t even tasted it yet,” he murmured, leaning in like he might say something else.

But he didn’t. He just reached around her—close enough to brush his chest against her shoulder—and stirred the risotto with one of the wooden spoons she’d left on the counter.

She didn’t move.

“You’re doing it right,” he said, still low, still close. “Good technique.”

“I’ve had practice.”

“I can tell.”

There was a pause. Just long enough to feel the space between them shrink.

Then he looked at her, and his voice dipped just slightly, deliberate now:

“You know this is a date, right?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is it?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. It is. And you’re doing dangerously well.”

Her throat went dry.

The spoon was still in his hand. The risotto still simmering. But everything between them had gone still—warm, weighted, suspended between polite flirtation and whatever the hell this was becoming.

“I haven’t even served it yet,” she said quietly.

Harry’s eyes didn’t leave hers. “Doesn’t matter. You’ve already got me.”

Y/N held his gaze for a second too long, heat blooming low in her stomach. But she didn’t let it tip yet. She reached out and gently took the spoon from his hand, turning her focus back to the risotto.

“You’re lucky I like feeding people,” she said, stirring.

“Lucky’s one word for it.”

“You’re also distracting.”

“Also one word for it.”

He sat at the kitchen table while she plated the food, watching her with that unshakable calm, fingers tapping against the stem of his wine glass. When she finally set a bowl in front of him, he looked up and said, very simply:

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me until you’ve tried it.”

He took one bite, then another—no dramatic noises this time, just that slow nod of approval, the kind that made her chest tighten.

“I hate how good this is,” he said through a smile. “Now I can’t even fake critique you.”

“You weren’t going to anyway.”

“I was, just to keep you humble.”

She grinned, settling across from him, and they ate in a rhythm that felt natural. Familiar. They didn’t fill every silence. They didn’t rush the conversation. He asked how she got into cooking. She asked what kind of kid he was at school. He told her he was quiet. Kind of nerdy. Read more than he talked.

“But you’re so…” she paused, waving her fork at him, “you now.”

Harry smiled. “Still kind of nerdy. Just taller.”

They finished eating slowly, in no real rush. Conversation drifted, low and lazy. Harry told a story about getting lost on the Tube as a teenager and ending up an hour outside of London. She admitted she once cried in a grocery store because she couldn't find the right brand of olive oil.

When the food was gone and only half the wine left, Y/N stood with a stretch and started clearing plates.

“You cooked,” Harry said, getting up beside her. “Let me clean.”

“You can help,” she said, stacking dishes. “But don’t think you’re getting full dish duty just because I made risotto.”

“Worth a try,” he murmured, brushing against her as he took the plates to the sink.

The touch lingered—his hand grazing her hip on the way past. Not overt. Not rushed. But purposeful.

She handed him a glass, and their fingers met again. This time neither of them looked away.

“You’re quiet,” she said, filling the silence with something safe.

Harry tilted his head slightly. “I’m trying not to say something reckless.”

Her heart fluttered. “Like what?”

“Like how long I’ve been thinking about this. About you.” He turned slightly, drying a plate without breaking eye contact. “Since the first time I saw you that day in the office. You walked in like you belonged there. That little nervous smile. I was done for.”

She didn’t move, just held his gaze. “That’s not reckless.”

“It is if I tell you I wanted to kiss you before I knew your last name.”

Y/N blinked slowly.

Then she set the towel down, stepped closer, and looked up at him.

“You’re really going for it tonight.”

Harry’s smile was slow and sure. “Trying to make up for lost time.”

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she kissed him.

Soft at first, but immediate. Like they’d both been holding it back all night and finally decided to stop pretending. His hand cupped her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek, while his other arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her flush against him.

She sighed against his mouth as his tongue brushed hers—slow and unhurried but thorough, like he meant every second of it. Her hands slid up his chest, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt.

When they finally pulled apart, just slightly, she caught her breath and whispered, “We should take this to the bedroom.”

He blinked, lips parted, eyes dark.

“Yeah?” he said, low and rough now.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

He didn’t ask twice. He just followed.

And the second they stepped into her room, everything changed.

—

The door clicked shut behind him, and the quiet deepened. The only light came from the hallway and the faint glow of the city through her windows. Harry stood there for a second, eyes on her like she’d just undone something in him.

Then he crossed the room and kissed her again—deeper now, slower, like they finally had permission to feel everything.

She let her hands roam, slipping beneath the hem of his shirt, fingertips skimming over warm skin and firm muscle. He hissed softly through his teeth when she tugged the shirt over his head, dropping it somewhere behind them.

“God, you’re…” she breathed, letting her gaze fall over him, eyes hungry and soft all at once.

“Say it,” he murmured, thumb brushing her lower lip.

“You know exactly what I was going to say.”

He smirked. “I like hearing it anyway.”

She kissed down his neck, tongue brushing the curve where his shoulder met his collarbone, and smiled when she felt him shiver under her mouth.

He didn’t just touch her—he held her, his hands sliding over her back, her sides, her hips, like he couldn’t decide where he wanted her most. His fingers dipped under her waistband, pausing, waiting for her nod before easing her jeans down slowly.

Once she stepped out of them, she stood there in nothing but her tank top and underwear, heart pounding.

Harry looked at her like she was already undoing him.

“You’re dangerous,” he said.

She tilted her head. “Why?”

“Because I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured, stepping closer, brushing his mouth over her jaw, “and now that I have it, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

“Then don’t,” she whispered.

He lifted her gently—just enough to lay her back on the bed—and followed, crawling over her with slow purpose. Her tank top came off next, tossed somewhere beside them, and when he looked down at her, he stilled.

His hands traced her bare skin like it was something delicate. Not hesitating—just taking his time.

“Still with me?” he asked, voice rough and low.

She nodded, eyes locked on his. “I’m not going anywhere.”

That was all he needed.

He kissed her again, mouth moving over hers with quiet intensity, hips pressing against hers as his hand slid between her thighs, not rushed, just there, warm and solid and deliberate.

Every touch was a question, and every breath she gave him was an answer.

By the time he eased her back into the pillows, lips brushing her throat, her shoulder, her chest, she wasn’t sure where she ended and he began. His name slipped out of her in a whisper, soft and urgent, as his mouth trailed lower—lips against her skin, tongue slow and teasing, every movement sending sparks through her like aftershocks.

He moved with patience. With purpose. With a kind of reverence she hadn’t expected, but felt all the way down to her ribs.

And when he finally pulled her into his arms afterward—bodies warm, tangled, skin still humming—he didn’t say anything right away.

Just ran his fingers up and down her spine, slow and steady, anchoring them both in the quiet.

Then, almost too softly to hear:

“I’m really not going to be able to stop thinking about you now.”

Y/N smiled into his chest.

“Good,” she whispered. “That makes two of us.”

—

​​The first thing Y/N noticed was warmth.

Not sunlight, not sound—just heat, steady and solid behind her, an arm draped heavy across her waist and breath moving slowly against the back of her neck.

She blinked her eyes open. Her bedroom was quiet, soft light filtering through the curtains. Everything smelled like skin and her lavender laundry soap and something distinctly him.

She shifted slightly and felt him move behind her—just the barest reaction, like his body didn’t want to lose the contact.

Then came the voice, low and sleep-rough.

“Morning.”

She smiled before turning. “Morning.”

Harry was already watching her, eyes soft, hair a total mess, the faintest smirk on his lips like he couldn’t believe this was real. He brushed a hand over her shoulder gently, fingers trailing up to her jaw like he needed to confirm she was still there.

“Didn’t dream that, did I?” he asked, voice still scratchy.

She shook her head. “You were definitely here. There was risotto. There was wine. There was…”

“A lot of things,” he offered, still grinning.

Her cheeks warmed, but she didn’t look away. “You stayed.”

“Yeah,” he said simply. “Wasn’t planning on leaving.”

They lay there for a moment, quiet again. His thumb moved lazily over her hip under the covers. She could feel the way his legs tangled with hers, warm skin brushing everywhere.

She wanted to ask what this meant. If they were different now. If they were going to try to pretend it hadn’t happened at work on Monday morning—but then he leaned in and kissed her forehead, soft and slow, and said:

“You know I’m not going to pretend this didn’t happen, right?”

Her eyes met his.

“I don’t want to pretend either,” she said.

That was it.

Not a relationship talk. Not labels. Just honesty.

Just this.

“Good,” he whispered, voice still sleep-warm. “Because I was already planning breakfast.”

She laughed. “You’re confident.”

He rolled onto his back dramatically. “I just gave the performance of my life and made sure you didn’t burn the risotto. Let me have my moment.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And charming.”

She leaned over him and kissed him again. It was slow, languid. The kind of kiss that didn’t go anywhere, but still promised everything.

Her hand slipped into his hair, and his arm curled back around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest again.

—

They stayed in bed longer than planned.

The risotto dishes were still in the sink. Her hair was a mess. His shirt was missing. They didn’t care.

Harry made coffee while Y/N stood barefoot in the kitchen, wearing one of his sweaters—something he must’ve tossed into his overnight bag, though she couldn’t remember when. It hung loose on her frame, sleeves too long, fabric soft from wear.

“You can’t just look like that and expect me to focus on pouring,” he muttered as he handed her a mug.

She took it without breaking eye contact. “I like how quickly you folded.”

He sipped his coffee with a lazy smirk. “Folded the moment I walked in your door last night.”

They ate toast over the sink. Talked about absolutely nothing. She told him her neighbor leaves passive-aggressive sticky notes in the laundry room. He told her he once accidentally wore mismatched shoes to a client meeting and no one noticed—still one of his proudest office wins.

And then, too soon, it was time for him to go.

He stood by the door, keys in one hand, the other still lingering at her hip like he hadn’t decided whether to pull her back in or let her breathe.

“I’ll see you Monday,” he said, voice low, unreadable.

She nodded. “We’ll pretend to be normal.”

He leaned down and kissed her once—soft, careful, like he didn’t want to wake whatever spell they’d slipped into.

But before he pulled away, he whispered, “Just so you know, I’m already thinking about the next time.”

Y/N smiled, her chest tight in that restless, breathless way that meant she already was too.

He left.

The apartment was quieter now. Still warm, still full of him, but quieter.

— 

After he left, the apartment was quiet.

Y/N wandered back to the kitchen, barefoot, still wearing his sweater. She poured herself a second cup of coffee even though it had already gone cold. Leaned against the counter, staring at nothing in particular.

There was a dish towel still hanging crooked off the oven handle. A candle burned too low on the windowsill. A wine glass tipped slightly in the sink.

All signs that last night had really happened.

Her neck was still warm where he’d kissed it. Her body ached in that good, quiet way. And every now and then, her mind would flash to the way he’d looked at her—right before, during, after. Like he knew something she didn’t.

She took a sip of coffee and smiled to herself.

It was funny.

She didn’t think this was how it would go. When she started the job, when she’d met him this wasn’t in the plan.

She didn’t think it would turn into late-night texts. Or pasta. Or him, standing barefoot in her kitchen like he belonged there.

She especially didn’t think it would turn into this quiet kind of happiness. This soft, steady warmth that hadn’t faded even after the door clicked shut behind him.

She shook her head to herself, grinning.

“I really didn’t see that coming,” she murmured into her mug.

But somehow, that made it better.

[daisyblog]

Risky Fun

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN and Harry have a little fun on the boys tour bus and get caught by Niall.

warning: sexual theme, oral (m receiving), smut, caught

Based on this request.

Craving each others touch and a moment alone to explore one and other, Harry and YN had snuck back onto the boys tour bus in between soundcheck and the show.

Harry was pleasantly surprised as he laid down in his designated bunk and YN wasted no time in reaching for his belted jeans, her smaller hands undoing them with ease.

“Someone’s eager!”. Harry gave a lazy smirk as he felt his lower half become harder with anticipation.

“Might wanna say that to your dick bubs!”. YN sent back a larger smile as the more she fumbled with his jeans, the longer and bigger his length grew.

Before Harry could return the quick whit, he felt the warmth release down his long length with ease and as he dared to look down, he was met with YN’s gentle strokes and her pink tongue swirled around his tip.

“Oh fuck…feels so good!”. Harry moaned into the air above him as his head voluntarily tilted back to meet the plump pillow. His fist traveled down and met with YN’s head to hold her ponytail tight.

As YN twirled her tongue with ease around the tip, leaving a path of wetness behind, her hand stroked up and down his length with rhythm.

“Oh yeah…uh fuck me!”. YN felt a pang at her ego rising and Harry continued to echo his moans with a grunt.

Knowing her wet tongue had teased Harry enough, she gently slid his long thick length down so it met the back of her throat causing her eyes to sting and his hips to buckle.

“Oh my fucking- your mouth is heaven”. Harry complimented as he took a shaky breath, feeling his thickness pushing its way down her tongue. Getting ahead of the feeling, Harry buckled his hips up to quick causing YN to gag on his length. “Shit…fuck…m’sorry babe!”.

Despite the worry in Harry’s voice as he panicked he’d pushed the moment too much, YN caused a whole new feeling inside him. “I liked it…do it again!”.

“Fuck me…you’re going to be the death of me!”. Harry dramatically announced into the air around them as he lolled his head back in search for comfort.

As YN’s mouth returned to her movements of licking and sucking his length, Harry moaned loudly without thought that they were only a few feet away from the others.

“Your moans are so fucking hot!”. YN spoke as she brought her mouth up for a break before her lips and nose met with the base of Harry’s stomach.

“Oh yeah….fuck…fuck…oh…oh…YN…yeah…I’m gonna cum…”.

In between Harry’s grunty moans, YN froze as she heard a familiar accent. A thick Irish one to be exact. “Fuck!”.

Harry’s ears quickly tuned into the noise coming from the other side of the curtain that kept them hidden.

YN could feel her cheeks rise with embarrassment as they heard Niall’s voice and loud contagious laughter. “Fucking hell lovebirds…you can hear you from the car park!”.

“Fuck off Niall!”. Harry was frustrated that their moment had been interrupted and the sound of his bandmates voice was enough to kill the mood.

“Oh yeah…feels so good…fuck…fuck…oh yeah YN!”. Niall mocked Harry’s moans before a teasing chuckle followed through the bus.

YN had made her way to lay next to Harry, knowing their moment alone was over. “Horan…kindly fuck off! You cockblock”. She felt Harry chuckle lightly at her honesty.

“Oi watch your mouth Tomlinson…or I’ll go and tell Louis what I’ve just heard!”. The couple knew Niall was teasing them, the comment was just banter but the heavy gulp in Harry’s throat spoke volumes at how worried he was about him spilling the information.

“Don’t test me Horan!”.

Tag List:

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[lazysoulwriter]

good boy - harry styles.

It wasn’t something you planned to say. It just slipped out, rolling off your tongue like it had always belonged there. Harry was sprawled out on your couch, his head resting on your lap, eyes closed as your fingers lazily ran through his curls. The soft glow of the TV flickered against his skin, but neither of you were paying attention to the movie anymore.

“You’re all relaxed, aren’t you?” you murmured, your nails gently scratching his scalp. A small hum left his lips, followed by a contented sigh. “Feels nice.”

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest at the way he melted under your touch. His face was soft, peaceful, and utterly at ease. Then, without thinking, it came out—soft, teasing, affectionate.

“Good boy.”

Harry’s eyes snapped open instantly, and you felt his whole body tense slightly against you. His lips parted, but he didn’t say anything right away—just blinked up at you, like he wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it.

You froze. “What?”

His brows furrowed for a split second before something else took over—a slow, lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Say that again.” Your cheeks warmed, realizing the effect those two words had on him. “What, ‘good boy’?”

His breath hitched just barely, but you caught it. “Yeah. That.”

You tilted your head slightly, studying him, testing the waters. “You like that?”

He swallowed hard, fingers twitching against your thigh before curling around it, his touch firmer than before. “Maybe.” Your smirk grew, and you leaned down, your voice dropping into a whisper just for him.

“Good boy.”

This time, you didn’t miss the way his fingers dug into your skin, or the way his breath stuttered. His eyes darkened, something flickering behind them—something deeper, more intense.

"Careful, love," he murmured, his voice lower now, rougher, thick with something unspoken. His fingers trailed up your thigh, slow and deliberate. "Keep saying that, and I might have to show you just how good I can be."

Your stomach flipped at the implication, heat curling low in your belly. You raised a brow, pretending to be unfazed, but your voice betrayed you—just a little breathier than before.

"Oh?" You dragged your nails through his curls again, tugging just slightly. "Is that a promise, Styles?"

His smirk deepened as he sat up, shifting so that his face was mere inches from yours. His eyes flickered to your lips before meeting your gaze again, a silent challenge dancing in them. "Not a promise," he murmured, voice like honey, smooth and slow. "A guarantee."

[strawberriesandhotmen]

Late Night Shenanigans

a/n: I absolutely adore getting requests from y’all, this one is from the lovely @purplekimijks. I’m so sorry this one took me FOREVER. I am pulling shit out of my ass I fear but I’m still pleased with this one. By the way, as usual, y’all are cooking with these asks. Making me feel some type of way 😘I think I only mentioned Louis and Harry specifically, but the others are obviously there in spirit, as we know. (also I know the gif isn't blonde Niall, but he's just so cute I had to use it)

pairing: fratboy!boyfriend!Niall Horan x fem!reader

CW +18 smut: swearing, basically pwp sorry not sorry y’all, reader is NEEDY but who isn’t for this man, things escalate quickly from the get go lmao, softdom!Niall (mainly in the beginning), public sex ish (everyone is asleep), exhibitionism if you squint (like really hard), let me know if I missed anything y’all

word count: 1.7k

This fucking bunk. You felt like a damn cave diver, imagining yourself trapped between two sheets of stone as you ran out of oxygen to breathe. The Devil’s Ass Crack seemed like a fitting enough name, given the close-as-fuck quarters. The only thing missing was a camera.

You really shouldn’t be complaining. Despite the aggravating sleeping conditions, these buses were actually fairly luxurious. They held whole living rooms, for fuck’s sake. More than that, what girlfriend gets to accompany her boyfriend on tour without anyone batting an eye? Probably a few, but you felt lucky nonetheless. 

You found your thoughts shifting from irate to giddy as you imagined Niall, his adorable little Irish self fast asleep in his shitty bunk. He was incredibly precious, in any and all situations. 

You began to recall the night before last, his hands all over you, his lips following close behind. You remembered his whispered praises in your ear and the way he touched your hair, those pretty blue eyes boring into yours as if begging you to never leave.

Soon, it became too much. You couldn’t take it anymore, being six feet apart from him. The distance was an annoyance, the location a minor inconvenience. 

You climbed out of your bunk, attempting to be as quiet as you could and thoroughly failing as you tripped over an amp someone had left in the middle of the bus.

Dammit Louis.

You cursed under your breath as you clutched your stubbed toe. Fucking men.

You blinked hard as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, fumbling around until you reached Niall’s bunk, suddenly offended as his was slightly more spacious. That annoyance faded quickly, though, as you realized the use you could make of that extra room.

After pulling back the curtain, you not-so-elegantly climbed on top of him, holding back a giggle when his eyes fluttered open into a confused expression.

“Is that you, love?” He whispered, squinting adorably as he tried to discern my facial features.

“No, it’s Harry.” You replied sarcastically, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see. He let out a dramatic sigh.

“I told you we can’t keep doing this, man. The lads are starting to get suspicious.” Your jaw dropped in a momentary lapse of common sense, and you smacked his chest as aggressively as you could in the cramped space. He laughed louder than he should have at this late hour, quickly clamping his mouth shut and switching to a quiet snicker.

“Don’t worry, love. I’m only joking.” He assured you, his hands now sliding up your thighs to grip your hips. “What brings you to my chambers?” You giggled at the tease despite yourself, laying your head on his bare chest.

“Wanted to be with you.” You mumbled, absently tracing your finger along his toned stomach.

“Oh? Is my princess lonely?” He smiled, moving his grip to your waist now and giving you a light squeeze. You only nodded against hom, relishing in the feeling of your bodies pressed together, of your legs straddled over his thighs. You could feel the thin material of his boxers along your inner thighs as his hands slipped under your sleep shirt, humming at the realization that you were only wearing panties.

“Dirty girl.”  He husked against your ear, smirking. His fingers toyed with the lace adorning my hips, sliding under the material and back out. “These the ones I got you?” He asked, and you nodded again without looking up. “That’s my girl.” He praised, and you could practically hear the smile on his pretty pink lips.

“You have good taste, Ni. In both women as well as underthings.” He let out another snicker, bringing his hand up to card his fingers through your hair. After a moment of comfortable silence filled with only the sounds of your breathing, Niall slowly and carefully shifted your position so that he was now on top. “What does my princess need, hm?” He hummed, his lowering fingers silently suggesting filthy things. “Need you to ask me for it, love.” You whined a little in flushed embarrassment, squirming beneath him.

“You already know, though.” You protested stubbornly, throwing your arms around his neck. He chuckled at your resistance, teasingly sliding his hand under the hem of your shirt (well, technically his shirt; you stole it). You wiggled again impatiently, drawing a ‘tsk, tsk, tsk’ out of him.

“You know the rules, pretty girl. Use your words.” You clenched your thighs together as his tone grew deeper, huskier. That sexy-as-fuck accent only made it better. His calloused fingers brushed against the underside of your breast, drawing a pretty little gasp from you that only excited him more.

“Need you, Ni.” Your words escaped you in a whine, the pathetic sound sending a jolt straight to his half-hard dick. Dragging his thumb across your pebbled nipple, he gave the rosy bud a pinch in a way to scold you.

“Specifics, love.” You huffed out in sexual frustration, tightly gripping the sheet beneath you.

“Inside.” You forced out, ignoring the way your ears grew hot in embarrassment at your neediness. It was truly pathetic, the manner in which you were behaving, but how could you not? This was Niall, for fuck’s sake. The man of your dreams, practically your fucking life force. 

You also chose to ignore the shit-eating grin you could just make out on his face, clearly displaying how pleased he was with your obedience to the ‘rules.’ They had never been distinctly laid out, per say, but given the dynamic between you, these guidelines were understood. Following an amused chuckle on his behalf, Niall leaned down to pepper kisses along the shell of your ear, his breath tickling your sensitive skin.

“What princess wants, princess gets.” And fuck you if those words didn’t nearly make you come undone on the spot, the sheer decision in his tone drawing another pool of arousal out of you to your already ruined panties.

In one swift motion, your (his) shirt was gone, your torso bare for him with only those useless panties to shield the rest (not that they were doing a great job of that, either).

“So pretty, baby.” He muttered between kisses on your neck, soon migrating to your collarbone and then your chest. And shit, he loved to play with your perky tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers and sucking like they gave him life. 

While he occupied his mouth up top, his hands groped your hips and thighs, clearly growing impatient at the scrap of soaked fabric that still served as a barrier. He yanked them down to your ankles in one decisive motion, allowing you to kick them away before he descended upon you once more. He allowed you no time to process what was going on, impatiently ridding himself of his boxers and letting his stiff length smack against his stomach.

Fuck, you needed him.

Evidently, he needed you too, because without giving you a moment to think, his tip was already bullying its way into your dripping hole.

“Ni, fuck…” You trailed off, gritting your teeth at the delicious stretch you felt as he slid deeper, inch by inch. The moment he was up to the hilt, you let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding, immediately beginning to pant as he pulled back slowly.

The pace he set was ruthless, unrelenting. Both of you were quite aware of the time constraint, and you couldn’t afford to drag this out for very long. He slammed into your g-spot with every snap of his hips, his pelvis smacking against your pulsing clit. He’s too fucking good at this, you thought. 

His breath was coming in harsh pants, that rasp just audible above the sounds his actions were creating.

“Fuck, princess, feel so good around me.” He groaned against your neck, and you felt his cock twitch against your walls when you let out a pretty moan in response. You were being quiet, but probably not quiet enough.

“Faster, please…” You pleaded, desperately chasing that release as you held onto Niall. He obliged with immediate intensity, and you were surprised the both of you hadn’t yet toppled out of the bunk. You felt that knot in your stomach begin to grow to an unbearable amount, and with the way your plush walls clenched around his cock, Niall knew you were close.

“That’s it, love, let me feel you come around me. Fuck, want to see how pretty you look when you come.” His words were your undoing, your breath catching as you held back a moan when your back arched, your nails digging into his back. Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, lasting a beat longer than you had remembered the last one lingering. You let out a squeak as he continued pounding into you, now chasing his own release.

“I know, princess, I know. I’m almost - shit - almost there.” And not three thrusts later, he was coming on your stomach, hot ropes of come shooting out to paint your sweat-soaked skin with white. He collapsed on top of you, holding you close as both of your breath’s slowed to normal.

“I love you so much, baby.” He murmured, pressing soft, tender kisses to your neck. You smiled, your eyes half-lidded, and you thought you may finally get some sleep.

“I love you too, Ni.” You chuckled to yourself, thinking back on what had just happened. “We really need to stop with these late-night shenanigans.” He let out a little giggle at your choice of words, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before pulling back to smile at you.

“Not a chance, princess.”

[eveningepiphany]

pirates gold, H.S series part 4

series masterlist

my masterlist<3

summary: another day on the ship with your captor turns into him teaching you a thing or two about the pirate life. but as controversy’s of your past come up, somehow the captain and the princess wind up back in his bed- with anything but sleep on their minds.

warnings: mentions of violence, talk of unconsensual past experiences (not descriptive!) swearing, SMUT: f!rec oral and fingering, m!rec oral with slight edging, p in v penetration, dirty talk, lots of sex, anyways oopsie enjoy

a/n: i genuinely can’t believe how long this took to write and publish. thank you all for your patience, i like to think the sex they have makes the three million year wait worth it. can’t wait to hear what you all think<3

———

Nothing can prepare a person for realising they don't know themselves as well as they thought.

There's a mixture of disappointment, shame, dread. But sometimes, deep down—despite not ever admitting it to oneself— there's can be an element of excitement.

Not always, but occasionally. There’s that moment of wonder, who really am i?

It’s a bewildering spiral of good and bad feelings, you hardly know left from right, or up from down.

Rarely did you do things for yourself purely for the sake of it. Back at home there was someone for everything, not only to do things for you, but to make sure you weren't stepping out of line.

You couldn’t experiment. No finding out who you are deep down. There was never the chance for self discovery.

Now, you’ve landed in a situation where somehow you’re supposed to be more trapped. Yet you don’t think you’ve ever been more free.

No more straight posture at the dining tables of the banquet hall, being left to sit with a cautious mouth for hours upon hours. Engage in colourless and dull conversation while you imagined freedom.

Funny to think of it now… the picture in your head. Neatly pulled back hair. A spotless dress without a hunch of what was past the waters you stared out at every night. It was like trying to explain what something tasted like, yet having never tasted it yourself.

You knew nothing of freedom.

Not until you felt the sea nearly swallow you, the wind whip your hair a mess, the heart in your chest pounding as you ran out of Sintir— a place you’d only ever seen on a map.

Indulging in late night caressing with a pirate, something that selfishly bled into early morning, in his own bed. Hands on bare skin, hands in hair, hands wherever they could feasibly touch without crossing some sort of invisible line. Definitely not something that would’ve flown back in Kelna.

Yet that is exactly what you did a few days ago, and your head has been a complete mess since. After you stooped as low as to beg the Captain of this very ship to stay with you, he did just that. For how long, you dont even know. Long enough a crew mate of his was rapping his fist upon the locked door, calling out in bemused annoyance.

“You're either so hungover you cant move or tied up in there by our supposed-to-be prisoner.”

The heave of his chest underneath your head is ingrained into your memory. A strong huff, perhaps annoyed, but something you hope was from sadness. A regret for having to leave at any point, for not being able to stay forever.

"Free of any ties, Tanner. Just... tired." He calls back, tone rather harsh.

You'd moved yourself off him, "I'm embarrassed i didnt think to do such a thing."

The quip lacked all venom it used to, and you scolded yourself internally. You were screwed.

---

The days since were as bipolar as the weather at sea. You craved him, his touch, his voice of silk. It was like a drug. But you knew better for yourself.

After the hangover wore off, and the reality of what you had done set in. You forced distance between the two of you. He saw it coming, even he played along with it.

You two never stopped the game. You just went from a chess piece on his board to being the person opposite him.

Meant to be playing to win.

Up on deck, now the sun has come back out, everyone is saying the good weather is to return from now. Unsure whether to trust it— like many other things on this ship. You keep your gaze trained on the distance, where the waves ripple and swell. There is still a gusty wind, but the sun is hot on your skin.

Slowly, you chew on the fish roll you made in the kitchen with Zayn. He is a gifted cook, you on the other hand, are far from it. Used to it ‘being done for you’ he'd scorned playfully.

He'd shown you a few things this past week, stuff you feel envigored learning about. Knowing how to live independently for yourself is freeing, just as you knew it would be.

Wiping the crumbs off the sides of your lips with the back of your hand, you wonder how you are to go back to living the way you used to.

Before you could spiral into that rabbit hole, someone interrupts.

"Y/N." Harry said, his tone unreadable.

Tearing your gaze from the far horizon, your eyes met his.

The purple silk top covering him today has a typical amount of ruffles for a fashion heavy pirate. He looks tragically good in purple.

"Yes, Captain." You kept your own voice level.

The past week your walls have gone back up, albeit, haphazardly. You still struggled to stay on your side of the bed. And the few brief moments the connection between the two of you has festered in the air, and you’ve allowed it to linger.

Or better said, the moments you didn’t have the strength to resist it.

Like brushing past him in the kitchen yesterday, his hand coming to your waist as you attempt to squeeze through the gap. He wasn’t holding you, but you stopped dead in your tracks.

For but a second you both sucked a breath in. No longer than that, and then you cleared your throat and pushed past him.

Either way, he's noticed it, obviously. Feeling like he should regret the night after taking you into Sintir. But he selfishly cant.

He can’t regret it when the sensation of your skin is burnt into the pads of his fingers. No part of him is strong enough to forget the way your body felt pressed against him, leg thrown over his waist and curled into his chest.

Yet, despite all of that, back to the game you both went, head first. Your bickering was more contained, but his title of mean pirate was attempted to be restored in your mind.

Maybe he couldn’t forget the imprint of your skin against his, but he did love a good game.

Who was he not to feed into that?

A chuckle rumbles in his chest, “Captain, aye? We back to that are we. Two can play at this game Princess.”

The name makes your stomach stir, a small punch of adrenaline tingling in your limbs. How far can you push this before someone gets hurt?

He leans down to you, the blouse is loose on him and falls at the front. He’s eye level with you but your gaze locks onto the view of his chiseled chest between swirls of purple fabric, the tattoos you can vividly remember tracing with your fingers.

His tan skin is glistening between his pecs… a light sweat over him, making your mouth dry.

Suddenly his hand lifts your chin, “my eyes are up here, dove.”

“Don’t be disgusting.” You scoff, despite being caught in the act.

“What is it you want. Why are you pestering me?”

“Such a princess thing t’say, that im bothering you. You’re on my ship, need I remind you.” His fingers tap your cheek with a smirk.

“Need I remind you, that’s not to any choice of my own.” Your voice is indignant, and you pull your chin from his grasp, turning your face away with a scowl.

He’s pressing your buttons, winding you up exactly the way he knows how.

“Well, I haven’t heard much about how deeply y’long to be back home.”

It works a charm, because you’re quick to snap back at him.

“That is none of your business. And frankly I would rather keep that matter to myself than share it with the people who are responsible for kidnapping me.”

He loves hearing your accent when you argue like that, the pompous royal tone returning briefly to you. So stuck up, said always like a challenge.

Letting out a breathy laugh, his hands suddenly coming to under your arms. He hoists you off the floor like you’re but a parcel of feathers, standing you upright.

“Won’t you leave me be!” The raise in your voice causes a few crew to turn their head at the scene.

“‘M trying to make y’useful ‘round here.” He chides, his hand snakes down to one of your wrists, a smirk pulling at his lips.

The feeling takes you back to the first day on the ship merely weeks ago, when that was the only way you got around.

His hand wrapped around the rope tied around them.

You think back to when you threw yourself off the ship, When he swam out to retrieve you, when his hips pinned you to hull of the ship and he cut the ties free.

“Instead of jus’ leeching our supplies,” his voice draws your attention away from the tan hand wrapped around your wrist. “And laying around not carrying y’weight.”

“Maybe you can just starve me then. That way I won’t be taking away from your precious supplies.”

“So much sass on y’today,” The smirk that comes across his face is devilish, walking you over to the bass of a mast, “c’mere”

He pulls you infront of him, his chest to your back. Forcing himself not to take any notice to your figure, the white blouse covering your top half and the black fitted pants that are tight around your bottom.

“See this rope, how it’s worn?”

Your head turns over your shoulder to catch his eyes, and your heart lurches in your chest as you clock how close his face suddenly is to you. The green in his eyes is captivating in sunlight. With his captivating eyes burning into you, his mouth is still holding a smirk.

You give a swift, forced nod, but you’re not even looking. You’re pretty sure you haven’t even blinked.

This causes a laugh to bubble from his chest, suddenly he’s leaning in.

What the fuck?

Your brain is racing as his body leans towards you, and face is inching closer.

There is no way he’s about to kiss you.

Suddenly he’s placing something in your hands, and his body is going back to its original stance.

He was handing you the rope.

Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, and he’s surely seen the flush that’s spread across it. It’s making you overheat, and your lungs are rising up and down in your chest ten times as fast compared to just five minutes ago.

What is wrong with me?

You snap your gaze down, hoping that your hair falls enough to cover your flaming cheeks.

“It’s…” your voice falters— great— you’re so embarrassed right now.

“Princess, has a cat got your tongue?” He chides with sarcasm.

“It’s frayed, feels weak, yes.” You nod hastily.

“Good girl,” he watches you purse your lips at his silky praise, and focuses on purely the amusement riling you up stirs in him. Not any of the other emotions that arise.

“Y’gonna help me replace it.”

“Like hell i am. Do you want your ship to fall apart?” You scowl, there is no way you can do that without something going terribly wrong.

“That’s why I’m teaching you, y’could do with a bit of hands-on work.”

Your eyes trail up to what the rope connects to, it’s holding down a part of the sail, helping to pull it taut.

“Taking this off won’t do much since we aren’t on too rough of waters, so it’s a good time t’change it.”

He steps a few feet away from you and retrieves a wad of fresh intact rope. A lot of it too, metres upon metres.

Your body remembers the sensation of it wrapped around your hands and your feet with a slight shiver.

“Firstly, we’re gonna untie and remove the old one.”

“Harry, I don’t know what im doing.” You whine, wishing to be anywhere but here, immediately frustrated.

He tuts, dropping the pile of new rope down next you both, “Zayn did tell me y’were bad at this.”

“Excuse you?” You scoff, shocked at his audacity. Slightly offended.

He steps back behind you, ushering you forward so you’re close to the metal bar that the worn tie is wrapped around.

“Told me y’don’t like being bad at things. Don’t like not knowing how to do stuff.” His voice is smug, like that is a fatal flaw.

“I—“ you’re so annoyed right now.

“I am not!”

“Y’defensiveness only proves m’point.”

You don’t even know what to say to him right now. Truthfully— ego aside— you don’t know if that’s how you get. You have gone laps around the sun without knowing this kind of stuff about yourself.

In defiance, you don’t admit this to Harry. But you stay silent as his hands reach for the knot in front of you.

“Now, princess. Look at this.”

“I’m looking.” You huff.

“Where do you think we’re gonna start untying this, what kind of knot do y’think this is?”

“I have half a clue of what kind of knot this is, Captain.”

“This is a water bowline, angel.” The words mean little to you, but your stomach does a weird squeeze at his confident words, the way his accent makes the word angel sound.

“I’m going to guess this loose end here,” Your right hand extends out, tugging at the few inches of rope that extends out the middle of the knot, “has something to do with untying it.”

He smiles at the way you’re starting to soften at the idea of what’s happening. Yes, you’re still standing tense and your tone is still veering on irate. But you’re indulging, playing along at the least.

A small sense of pride bubbles through him, “Smart girl, it does.”

“You’ll see these knots everywhere on the ship, in many different forms. They’re nice and secure, can take a lot of tension but aren’t hard to tie or untie.”

“This here,” his fingers trace a loop in the top of the knot, “is what you’re gonna pull on first.”

You grab it and he brings his hand to your waist. The action makes you flush as you try and focus.

“Fold it forward, this is gonna loosen it against the standin’ end of the rope.”

You don’t know what that means, but you pull the part he’s directing you to towards yourself, applying a bit more pressure when you see it needs it.

He hums in approval, and your lips purse together, “Now that loose end, feed it out of the wrap in the middle there.”

You do that, and he reaches forward to add tension on the upper section of the rope as you now use both hands to untie the rest of the knot— unhooking it.

“Tha’s it. Now we can replace it, and I’ll show you how to tie the knot.” He takes the old rope and figure 8’s it around a metal hold, so it’s still holding the sail.

He sees your curious eyes at his action, and explains, “We could cut it, but just incase it’s better to have it handy until y’know you’re ready to replace it.”

You nod, and he grabs the fresh rope and sets it up for you.

Grabbing your hands, he walks you through the process first himself, then he unties it to make you do it.

You curse for the first few minutes as you try to tie it properly, but once he guides you again, you’re staring at the tied knot.

“There you go, look at that princess. Jus’ tied ya first water bowline.” He comments proudly, and you can’t help but smile.

“Thanks…” you feel good, accomplished.

“I’m gonna secure it in the eyelet up there now, y’stay down here.”

He leaves you down there. All while you watch him bring the sail in, so he can reach it from the mast. Rope tied to his belt loop, he unties the old one and lets it drop.

You’d stepped back so it could fall without nearly taking you out by the head. Staring with hardly enough shame as Harry worked his fingers to create a new knot through the eyelet of the sail.

His brow furrowed in concentration, unbothered by the metres between him and the deck of the ship as he balanced entirely unsuspended.

His strong thighs are tensed as he holds himself stable, black pants look good on him.

He cut the excess rope off with a dagger and climbed down with ease. Unbelievable how good he can look doing something like that.

Once he’s back down, he walks over to where you stood and admires the new rope alongside you. You aim to pretend you hadn’t been checking him out the whole time.

Nudging you with his shoulder, “And who said princesses couldn’t learn pirate things.”

“I’ve learnt plenty of pirate things.” You state.

“So, what are you, more princess or pirate then, dove?”

With a frown your eyes slant to him, trying to search in his gaze the motive behind the question. So many tricks are up his sleeve, he never fails to remind you that.

“I’ll leave that up to you.”

His eyes scan your face, flickering over you. A tick of silence, and then he curtly nods, “Well, they say practice makes perfect, so don’t think we’re done yet.”

He intends on spending this afternoon with you, regardless of what other things he should be doing.

“I thought it was my turn to teach you something.”

“What? Like how to manage my table manners?”

You can only roll your eyes.

And to be fair, you did plenty of that as the blue sky bled into sunset.

“No, you dolt. If you picked up that fork first they’d barrate you on the spot.”

“Whatever,” he’d sighed, “I find getting your hands dirty with a good meal is the only way to eat something.”

The evil smirk on his face as he’d said that was all telling.

The two of you did both lots of thinking and lots of talking. Lapsing between periods of comfortable silence and discussion.

A part of you wondered if this was his tactic to pry your guard back down. You hated yourself for letting it work, the fact you somewhat allowed him into the works of your brain again.

After finishing the last rope he wanted to replace, you’d stretched out your shoulders.

"Do y'feel accomplished?" His own arms reaching above his head.

"I feel productive, which is rare that happens.”

He starts walking in the direction towards the communal quarters, in presumption that you'd follow.

You do just that, wasting no time matching his pace.

"Thanks. For showing me." The words are hard to push pass your lips, they're clunky and almost shy. But they pack the same level of meaning.

He stops the few steps in front of you, right next to the wall of the communal quarters. He turns around so his full front is facing you. The sun has dipped below the horizon of the sea, the warm golden hour glow sinking with it.

Now it's lingering in that space of inbetween, where it’s not quite dark, but not light enough to class as sunset still.

You can almost relate.

His green eyes have pinned you to a stop as well, your hands falling to the front of your white blouse. The wind is toying with the loose material, gently, your fingers ring the ruffled bottom that cuts off midway down your ribcage.

He's been forcing himself to hold his eyes strictly to your face, not anywhere near the sweetheart neckline thats dipping to show the swell of your chest.

Can’t believe I bought that for her and thought I’d be able to not stare, he thinks internally.

"You dont have t'thank me." He answers truthfully. Despite the fact he may have mocked your lack of gratitude he wholly believes you did him a favour today.

"You showed me how to do something. Something useful, and practical." You remark cautiously, watching your tone doesn't give away too much sentiment, "I cant tell you the last time i've had that."

"Y'can read right?" he chuckles, stepping forward.

"I went to school Harry."

His eyes rolled playfully, finally breaking off you, making you feel like you can suddenly inhale again.

"What do they even teach you there."

"Table manners, exactly the knowledge I so kindly imparted on you earlier." you dryly joked, despite it being entirely true.

"How to talk, how to act, what to do, what not to do." You sigh as you think back on it, walking to go lean against the wall.

"Ooo” he hums, intrugied, "what not to do?"

You prattle off the first ones that come to mind, "Dont get caught lying, it brings dishonour. Dont curse, it displays immaturity and impurity,” a pause, and you scoff— one drilled into any royal in the court, “dont engage in any premarital relations."

His pupils are the only part of him that reacts at the mention of the third rule you listed, they dilate and almost shake with the intensity he’s staring at you with.

A shrug of your shoulders, "That one gets surpassed all the time though.”

At your words, his brows twitch, he thinks you're talking about yourself. The look that passes over his face is unmissable. You can't pinpoint the exact emotion, and honestly, neither can he.

You are old enough to make your own decisions, he reasons. Old enough to decide if you want to...

His brain crafts a million different scenarios. They flash past faster than he can keep up with. Lingering heavily on whether or not it was consensual.

You had spoken about how men in Kelna acted around you. Whispering disgusting things, touching you. He thinks they’d be people similar to Garret, dirtbags who would’ve forced anything if they wanted it bad enough. The thought makes him livid, to his very bones.

"You look worried." You comment ambiguously, toying dangerously with the curiosity surrounding his reaction.

When he doesn’t reply, you take it a step further,

"Does my value decrease if i cant be labelled as a pure, untouched little angel?" Your tone is sarcastic, but the second the words fall from your mouth, he reacts.

His whole body tenses where he stands, and he steps closer to you.

"Y/N." A stern but bordering protective voice comes from him, a way he’s not spoken before. "Do not ever talk ‘bout yourself like that on this ship, or I swear..."

His throat tightens with anger, voice faltering and eyes fluttering with tension. A hand grabs the wall you're standing near. Knuckles white as his fingers dig into it, "I swear t’god, it makes me want to break something."

"If somethin’ happened to you in that fucking ring of psychotic royals—” He spits it out like the thought disgusted him, “You're a human being, not a slab of meat."

It’s not often he feels the need to genuinely punch something. Someone. But right now anyone that has ever done something to you is on his immediate black list.

In the back of his brain, he recognises that in your eyes he’s equally a bad person for what he’s done to you. He stands here a hypocrite.

Furious at anyone whose ever hurt you, yet being the very person that’s holding you somewhere against your will.

The tension rolls around in your stomach, almost making it ache with the sudden anxiety. You’re so utterly confused with how to feel in this situation you force your mouth to move,

"For the record, i was not talking about myself." The clarification comes out meek despite trying to keep your tone unbothered.

He doesn’t attempt to hide his feelings, face contorted into a sneer, “Wouldn't put it past those pigs."

“No one did that to me.” You amend again, this time, your own tone stern.

“Alright Y/N, what did they fucking do to you then?” His question forces you relive every unwanted advance you’ve had to uncomfortably sit through.

Every ‘accidental’ hand placement, every provocative comment directed to you, every situation that made bile from your stomach rise into your throat.

Somehow, you find it in you to argue back, even though you don’t believe Kelna is even a shred better than a ship of pirates, "Its not like im safe in your world either."

It’s clear this is his tipping point.

The heart in his chest clenches and his body is moving before he can register it.

Because suddenly, the space surrounding you is being entirely filled, he grabs you with his hands. There’s not a sliver of violence in it at all, but it does make you jump.

Regardless, he sinks his hands into your hair. He can’t help it, curling them gently into the soft strands at the nape of your neck.

Despite how pissed he is, his touch is nothing but gentle.

It causes you to shudder, unsure if it’s out of unease or somehow a little bit of pleasure— the feeling his ringed fingers graze across the nerves that typically lay behind your hair untouched.

They ping around in your muddled brain, electromagnetic signals making you light headed. It’s overwhelming, how did this even happen?

Even with the soft touch of his fingers, the look behind his hard gaze makes your skin prickle with goosebumps.

“I…” you try to make words, yet nothing comes out. Hands against skin are all you can make sense of.

It’s tangible, they’re there. If your strip everything else away, it’s just someone holding you.

Someone touching you softly. Someone who you—deep down, no matter how hard you try to feel otherwise—are okay with touching you.

You can swallow that pill. If only you could make it that simple, of course.

“Harry.”

One thing he’s learnt since having you around is that he can’t handle the way his name sounds when it comes out of your mouth.

Especially not with that whined tone. When it falls from your lips like a plea.

He can’t seem to find the words either. Your feet are planted between his and your own hands are braced on his hips.

“Dove, y’can’t keep bloody doin’ this to me.”

“I’m not doing anything to you,” his hands slide to your face, they cradle your cheeks, “Harry im just standing here. I’m telling you the truth.”

His face feels so close to yours, you swear you can feel the breath that passes through his lips meet your own.

Intimate almost, if you think about it hard enough.

“I don’t care about that, I care about you.”

“You can’t do this to me!” You whine, pushing his hands away, stumbling back. Breaking that connection by force if you have to.

You don’t remember how you ended up like this, with your blood pulsing in your ears and your chest heaving so hard your ribs could break.

Exasperated, “I am fine! I am okay!”

He is at a loss for words. You are so complex, so intricate. His curiosity for you deepens, even when he thinks it can’t anymore.

“I do not need any kind of pity, there is nothing to pity!”

“They made you not trust people.” He says with disgust.

You cant believe he can say that when he literally kidnapped you. And although he’s right to a degree, this experience hasn’t been great for your trust issues either.

“This world made me not trust people.” You gesture out to the ship around you, in sheer disbelief, “I’m standing on a fucking boat in the middle of nowhere because nothing is okay!”

Yelling against the wind, “Because the only thing people care about is themselves, and what they can gain from exploiting others.”

“I am a fucking object to everyone I’ve ever met.”

A part of his heart cracks hearing this, he has to physically restrain himself from stepping closer to you.

Space, give her space, his brain urges him— despite his physical body begging to do the opposite.

“Y/N,” his voice attempts to stay level. He watches your reaction.

Like a timid yet fired up animal, your hair is being thrown by the wind, pupils wild.

“There’s nothin’ i can say that will justify any of this. I know tha’.”

“There’s not.” You snapped, eyes threatening an emotion you can’t imagine letting out around him.

Crying is another thing frowned upon in the court, not unless the circumstance is so dire it warrants it.

You think for a second that you’re going to have the strength to pull yourself together, but suddenly, a wet and salty tear slips past your waterline.

The humiliation inside you that followed the single tear that just slid down your cheek would be enough to crush a grown man.

You knew he’d seen it, your face is flaming with embarrassment.

“This— this conversation is over.” You curtly reply, voice worn as you force out a tone reserved for Kelna.

The way you’re speaking to him like an associate causes him to move, “Y/N, stop—“

But your feet are suddenly moving, “Do not follow me.”

The warning is clear, he hesitates into a stop. Debating what to do.

Give you space or force you to stay in his company?

The conflicting thoughts on his face are clear.

Yet he swallows, and nods.

Then you turn around and walk away.

———

He forced himself to wait an hour. An excruciatingly long one.

After he watched you walk away, he went into where his crewmates were. Predicatably, they were sharing pints and throwing darts. The room was warmly lit, filled with chatter that echoed inside the dark wooden walls. A few of the boys asked where you were as Harry passed them. He could only lie.

“Tired after working.” Was his chosen reply, hoping now was the time more than ever that the crew just took his word for something.

“Probably the hardest she’s ever worked aye?” Tanner drunkenly joked to him, patting his back and throwing another sip of beer back.

Harry had to refrain from shooting him a look. Despite it being something he’d likely say himself, right at that moment, all he felt was worry for you. Even a shred of defensiveness, but that’s a feeling he has to shove down for the moment.

Making way to the cupboards that held their fair share of staple pirate beverages, he pulled a metal flask out and leaned against the bar top.

He forced himself to act as though he was unbothered, and that he was interested in the games of darts unfolding.

However his brain was heavily preoccupied,

Is she okay? Did I do the right thing letting her have time to herself? Is she mad at me?

Questions ran on loop, running a hand through his curls he struggled to reason with himself.

A hand was placed on his back, that interrupted his spiralling thoughts as he sipped at the flask of whiskey. A short sideways glance revealed his blonde haired crew mate.

“Y’seem off.” He quietly remarked.

Niall, often unserious, was surprisingly good at knowing when something was up. And even better at handling it discretely.

Due to that, Harry let out a short sigh through his nose before admitting a shred of truth.

“May have struck a cord with her.”

“Go too far with something, mate?” He asks quietly, curiously.

“No,” he frowns, unsure if he’s insinuating something else, he quickly clarifys, “was talking about the courts, got her upset.”

Niall’s blue eyes dart to meet his captains. Allowing a curt nod before looking back out to their crewmates that are fake tackling eachother over a stolen swig of beer.

“Y’checked on her yet?”

“Givin’ her space. She’s not too happy w’me at the minute.”

He lets out a light snort, “Good choice. Unless she’s thrown ‘erself off the ship, then t’was a bad one.”

“Ha-ha.” He fake laughs and rolls his eyes at Niall, taking a moment to swallow down the anxiety that’s built in his throat.

He can’t avoid stressing about you.

After a few ticks of silence, Niall clears his throat,

“Jus’ careful wit her. For both your sakes.”

He adds on with a pat on the back, “here if you need cap. It’ll be alright.”

Anyone else he would’ve been annoyed for saying that, but Niall is probably wiser than Harry himself. So his advice is taken with gratitude.

“Thanks mate. I’ll be careful.”

After another half hour, he’d had enough of the ill feeling that stirred in his stomach.

He left the room to find himself outside in the now cold but still windy air. It took a second for his gaze to adjust to the darkness, immediately scanning the deck around him for you.

Without any sight of you, he checks all the places he can think you’d be. His room, the cells, the kitchen.

His heart doubles in pace every time you’re not in a place he thought.

Coming out of the kitchen, his quickened pace. Starting to walk along the deck that leads him along the perimeter of the boat.

As he gets closer to the stern of the boat, he feels genuinely sick.

What if you had—

“Y/N!” He gasps without any thought the second his eyes spot your silhouetted frame.

You’re leant against the edge of the boat, staring out into the black water that swirls beneath the ship. He thanks the stars you’re not in it right now, given he was starting to think the worst of the situation at hand.

He doesn’t give you any time to talk before his long strides are invading your personal space. Warm hands coming to your cheeks, turning them to inspect your face for any damage, as though you are some kind of treasure to him.

“Im sorry.” He immediately begins.

“I shouldn’t have pushed m’luck.”

Your eyes scan his, taking in his face as his hands have come to rest in the crook where your neck and shoulders meet.

You still haven’t said anything, which isn’t working in his favour because his words are filling the silence, becoming more risky with each passing second.

“Jus’… the idea of something like that happening to you made me…” his thumbs stroke upwards along the valley of your throat subconsciously, “makes me fuckin’ sick.”

Your lips part as he begins to spill things he probably shouldn’t. Swearing that he can probably feel your pulse in your neck where his fingers lay.

He can’t stop now, “hearing you talk about y’self like that, like y’an object... I know I am no better than any average person in the Kelna courts for what I’ve done to you. But I promise you that I’d take a dagger to my own hands till there was nothing left of them before I ever let something of that nature happen to you…”

A deep breath and he shakes his head, “Not without your permission, darling.”

He doesn’t even care what that’s insinuating. Never does he want you under the impression he has control of you in a sexual regard.

The thought of you even believing that made him sick.

The air around you feels pressurised, and it’s like you’re about to spill even more out to him.

“I am being held captive, yet I’ve never felt more fucking free. How fucked is that?”

He is silent to your admission, shocked into it almost.

“You don’t understand how it feels to go from having to watch your every move, every word, just to stay alive. You are loved with conditions.”

Your voice suddenly heavy with anger again, “People cannot be trusted, everything is always two-sided, no matter what they say to portray otherwise.”

His hands have slipped from you, you’ve started pacing the deck and throwing your own hands out as bouts of sheer outrage wash over you.

“Here, god— you’re atleast half fucking honest with me. I don’t have to conform to any stupid rules to how I speak or sit or dress. I can swear at you, and you only raise the stakes.”

He can’t really fathom that you’re not speaking less of him. That you’re admitting that the life you lead on the ship as a hostage is better than as a princess.

“And I go against every promise I made to myself when I woke up here. I would let you do anything to me, Harry. Do you not understand that? How hard that is to live with everyday?”

“y’implying a lot right now…” he answers.

“You have my permission!” You spit out, pissed off now. At him, for being so charming and handsome that you’ve wound up as the lamb that fell for the lion. And pissed at yourself for being so unable to halt your snowballing emotions for him.

You’re self aware enough to know you’re an idiot, yet you’re still in the same position nonetheless. You’re also going to blame it your lack of education on how to handle sexy pirates that kidnap you for ransom money.

All the same, you’ve come aware that you’d let him do anything to you. You’d do anything to him.

God forbid the day you would do anything for him.

You’re terrified because whether or not this is some kind of fucked up situation of Stockholm Syndrome, you’re too deep in it to turn back now.

“Fucking Jesus Christ…” he curses to the sky, stepping towards you where you’re pacing.

“I hate you, you know! For putting me in this position.” You point at him, stating with contempt once you lock eyes.

“Y/N. Stop.” His voice has dropped several octaves. The wind has urged the curls that usually sit pushed back to fall over his eyes and forehead. Standing over you, his gaze is pinning you to the spot.

His brows are furrowed in an unreadable expression, but you don’t care. Right now, everything you have is about to go on the line.

“Stop what? Telling you that there’s something going on with me— with us here?” You gesture between the two of you.

“Am I meant to tell you that I—“ His hands come to your waist and urge you backwards against the edge of the ship.

The low of your back is pressed into the wooden beam, something you should be scared about realistically, but his hold around you is tight.

“Don’t fucking say it.” He says, “whatever you’re about to say, keep it to yourself.”

“Can’t handle the truth, Captain?”

He tips your chin with his hand, bringing your head on an angle to look him in the eyes, “You won’t be able to handle what comes after that, Princess.”

You’re unsure when both of your breathing became short and laboured. His panting chest made your head physically spin.

“What? Are you gonna put me down in the cells, hang my by the chains on the walls?”

His exhale stutters out of parted lips, “Don’t even joke about that.”

“Ignoring your problems does nothing, Harry. They keep getting bigger while you hide from them. Out of sight out of mind doesn’t work the way you think it does.”

Your frustration easily spreads to him, pushing him closer to a point neither of you can come back from.

His hands grab yours suddenly, they wrap around your wrists and hold them tight between you both. Like he’s grasping for any element of control he has left before everything spirals.

“There is no problem here, Y/N.” He whispers into your ear, voice stern, “do not make one.”

The tension between you both is absolutely palpable, his body is so close to yours it’s spinning your senses haywire.

“So we what? Go back to your room and act like nothings going on… I go get into your bed, and I let you wrap your hands around me like it’s just— it’s just…”

There’s not even a word for it, your voice trails off. His breath hot against your ear, and his one hand still tight around your two wrists.

Fuck it, fuck this, you think.

You turn your face to his, noses bumping.

It’s like the pull between your lips is so strong it’s easier to give in than put an inch of distance between them.

Your body squirms against his. It’s making him wild, he needs you so bad it’s going to break him.

“Not doing it.” He pants out, voice so deep it sounds like he just woke up.

“Not kissing me?”

“Nope.”

“Im giving you permission.”

“Numbing your problems doesn’t make them go away. Feeding into them only makes them worse.” His eyes fluttered shut, brows in a deep frown as he holds himself back with every part of his being.

“So you admit there’s a problem.” Your voice sounds dignified.

The metaphor of your situation has taken on a nickname clearly, and you’re not sure if it’s helping at all.

You nudge your nose into his again, his head falls into a tilt. His mouth so easy to access…

A dance between you ensues. Your mouth moves forward but his moves back.

“It’s so wrong…” he whispers, tongue jutting out to wet his lips. They’re left parted open, air escaping and fanning onto your own.

“I want to rip your shirt off your body right now, how’s that for wrong?”

“if I kiss you, Y/N,” he begins, breath stuck in his throat, “I’ll never be able to send you back.”

And how wrong is it for you to admit that’s beginning to become exactly what you want.

A stretch of silence, and you finally just lean into him. The second your lips meet his, your whole body melts.

Air empties out of his lungs in sweet relief, he swears for a moment he feels so lightheaded that he’s dreaming this whole moment up.

The hand wrapped around your wrists slides off and finds refuge on your waist. A voice in his subconscious is selfishly begging your own soft fingers to touch him wherever they can.

It appears words are suddenly useless to you both, and all that’s important is the kiss that is finally happening.

The meaning behind it weighs like a tonne of bricks, yet somehow makes it all the better. It shows in the way his mouth moves against yours like velvet, kissing back into your upper lip like he’s desperate for you.

He still recalls the first time he caught himself thinking about kissing you.

You were down in the cells, playing the waiting game after pushing him one step too far. It’d been over a day since he’d pulled you out of the water you’d thrown yourself in.

The sun was hot on his skin as he thought of your fully soaked body that he pressed into the hull of his ship. He remembered looking up to your lips as he untied your bound wrists.

They were glossy with water from the sea.

As he thought about, he only could imagine tasting them. Kissing over the salt water until they no longer shone with ocean drops, but with his saliva instead.

He had to physically shake his head at himself. Blaming it on not having been laid in so long.

Didn’t take long to release that was far from the problem when it came to his unseemly attraction to you.

A deep whine sounds from your chest, drawing him back to the present, and he pushes his body as far into your space as it can. You’re physically pinned against the edge of the ship. Theres not a care in the world at the endlessly deep swell of water thats just past you.

You don’t even remember when tongue started getting involved, nor when exactly you worked up the courage to lick into his mouth.

It’s hot, so hot.

His body feels like it’s on fire, and your hands feel that tangible warmth as they slide underneath the purple silk covering his chest.

That heat isn’t just budding in chests, it’s striking hot between legs. Only growing worse by the minute.

“My fuckin’ god…” he groans into your mouth, hands squeezing the swell of your chest.

“You taste devine, angel…”

His words make you tipsy. You smile and kiss him harder, letting his hands roam your body like you’ve never touched eachother before.

Despite the nights he’s dragged a delicate touch along your back and the skin over your waist, it’s nothing compared to this. It’s like you’ve never felt him before. The way his tongue glides against the roof of your mouth skilfully, and firm yet gentle hands are palming the flesh between your ass and thighs.

He’s wasted no time roaming and squeezing every inch of your skin, even over clothes he’s desperately trying to commit it to memory. Rubbing over the swell of your ass like you’re the only thing in the world he wants this bad.

“Harry.” There it was, his name.

The way it falls from your kiss swollen lips in that same pretty plea that sends him spiraling every single time. Yet it was so, so different in this moment.

Sheer pleasure courses through him, and he pulls your leg up to bracket his hip, letting him push himself closer into you. Imagining what lay between the peak of your thighs.

Wishing to see the state of you, wondering if this situation has worked you up to the same extent as him.

You can feel him, every inch. Every hard slab of muscle is pressed into you, warmth radiating off him like rays of the sun.

“My name.” He murmurs into your lips, “Say it again.”

His kiss trails down your neck, sucking gently over your pulse before licking a stripe back up your throat. His saliva leaving a hot, wet trail behind.

“Harry, please… more.” You don’t even have to try, the words all come from your mouth like it’s your only purpose.

His prick is swollen in the black trousers he’s in, shamelessly being pushed into your thigh. The feeling, it’s like heaven. You don’t have any single other way to explain it.

He’s behind layers of clothing and he’s pretty sure this is better than any sex he’s ever had.

Your little experience with genuine sexual interactions has not stopped you at all. And reflecting on every past experience of a sexual nature, they fall incomparably flat to this.

Despite the majority of them being unwanted advances, even the few you engaged in— mostly with random strangers at ballroom parties— were nothing to this.

They took place in dim hallways and in secluded gardens, the kisses were always slimy, laced with the intention of taking anything from you they feasibly could. You always stopped it when you released you felt no desire to go further.

This, however, was happening because no matter how hard you both attempted to deny it, you both wanted it. Wanted eachother.

And this time, all you felt was desire.

Your hand comes down to suddenly cup the bulge of his cock between you. He moans at the feeling, rocking into your palm shamelessly.

“Fuck— I could come jus’ like this. Against your innocent little hand…” he curses into your neck, making your mind swirl with his lustful and dirty words.

“Tha’s no fun though.” He amends, swollen lips coming up to your ear, “Not when I could take you back to our bed…”

Our bed… your hazy brain notes, trying to commit it to memory as his tongue drags lightly over the shell of your ear.

“I could leave your hands free, so you could lace them into my hair. Pulling on it like I know you would while I lick into you, Angel.”

“Or would you prefer them bound up against the headboard? Just as we’ve always joked, all tied up. At my mercy.”

“Please… Harry.” Your whole body feels like it’s been set alight, the pulsing between your legs so intense it made your knees weak.

“Please what, dove? Or you don’t care? As long as someone is looking after that pretty place down here, hmm…”

His hand meets the fabric between your legs, both of you now rutting into each others palms.

You can’t help but whine, “it hurts… Harry. Fuck…”

He shakes his head, leaning in to kiss your lips. He can’t believe you’re so worked up you’re telling him its physically hurting you. He thought it was just him, with his cock so hard he is bordering on being in pain.

“Cmon,” he starts to pull you back, your body leaving the dangerous edge of the boat.

But you hardly can figure out how to walk, almost like a little spring doe. Knees struggling to function.

He picks you up effortlessly by your thighs, wrapping them around his waist. Your arms naturally draping over his broad shoulders, tangling into his messy brown hair.

You whine and push into his chest without any thought. Attempting any kind of friction you can, causing his to laugh. His eyes finding yours, “you’re so needy you’re grinding against my chest…”

His long legs make quick distance across the boat, out of the cool wind and through the winding halls below deck.

Thankfully not running into a soul as he enters his room with you, locking the door swiftly behind him.

The second the latch flicks in place, his lips are back against yours. The kiss is sloppy and desperate, open mouths pushing against eachother like you’ve been apart for weeks.

You’re moaning into his mouth as he squeezes your ass in the dark room. Walking over to his bed, still holding you against him as he climbs atop the mattress.

He lets your back drift down until it meets the plush comforter, but your legs still elevated by his. Ass against his thighs, and his erection tightly pushed against you.

He follows your lips the whole way down, hands rolling up and down your body, lingering against your breasts as he nicks your bottom lip with his teeth.

“This okay?” He breathes out, making sure you’re alright.

“Yes…” You nod, responding without even a second between his question.

He soaks up the feeling that swells in his chest as you consent to him. You said it without an ounce of hesitation. He’s almost feeling honoured.

“This is on your terms, my Princess… you tell me to stop and I stop.”

My. Your brain struggled to compute his possessive words.

My Princess.

You drag your hands up his back, sliding them all the way to his cheekbones.

Your eyes find his.

They lock with intensity. Green gaze piercing into your soul.

Silence ticks over between you, only filled by the panting of your breaths.

Your thumb slips down to his plump lips, pulling down his bottom one. The pad of your finger tracing over its fullness, dipping into the wetness that coats it.

He allows it, eyes fluttering at the gentle yet seductive touch.

He is so gorgeous.

When your thumb is wet with his saliva, you bring it back down to your mouth. He watches you, the action so small yet so utterly filthy as you draw your finger into your mouth. Taking it between your own lips and sucking it clean.

Once you draw it out of your mouth, you keep your big eyes looking at him, “You have my permission, Captain.”

He curses at your words, and they kick him back into gear. His body folds over yours again, meeting your lips with his— fuelled with a fever that makes his head spin.

He tastes like whiskey, and you feel simply drunk off of it. You want to drink him up. He is the warm, tingly feeling in your throat after throwing back a shot of the brown liquor.

His mouth moves down your neck again, kissing and licking as far as your clothes will allow. He gets to the very top of your chest before the fabric gets in the way. Having half the mind to just mouth over your nipple anyway.

But, it’s the satisfaction that’s to come with stripping it off of you. The very clothes he bought.

Fingers shuck the material up over your chest, and your arms lift up instinctively to help him get it off. He’s surprised to see you were without a bra.

There you lay, arms up above your head, back arched against the mattress, and your beautiful chest on display for him.

“Oh, dove… you are a work of art.” He coos, hands immediately coming to run against the soft skin of your breasts.

He stares intently in the dark, suddenly asking, “Can I light a candle?”

His voice is hasty, “I can see you, but not s’well as I would if there was a bit of light.”

“Want t’see your skin coated in that warm light,” he leans down, voice dropping into a whisper, “and so I can watch y’nipples harden when I wrap my mouth ‘round them.”

You nod quickly as you speak a desperate yes, squirming at the idea.

It would be unfair for you also, not to see his chest and tattoos while you two did whatever this was together.

He pecks a chaste kiss over your lips.

“Thank,” kiss.

“…you.” another gentle kiss.

He slides upright, struggling to tear his eyes off of you as he fumbles for a match to light the candle on the sconce mounted to his wall.

You hear the match flick alight, and the room suddenly being cast on a golden glow as he brings the flame to the wick.

Discarding of the match, he wastes no time coming back to where you lay— hair fanned out underneath you. He stands at the edge of the bed, staring breathlessly at you.

He had hummed the second he saw you—properly saw you. Your cheeks are flushed red, beautiful brows upturned into an expression of sheer want.

“Let me take yours off,” you gesture with your eyes to his own shirt, “please?”

“C’mere then.”

You bring yourself up, knees to the edge of his bed. Your hands lift the purple fabric over him, and suddenly the tan, chiseled skin you eye off so often is finally yours to freely touch.

Tattoos and muscles, fine hairs and freckles, he is the embodiment of beauty and sex.

You run soft hands over his abs, the muscles almost rippling as he feels the skin to skin contact. Throwing his head back, he groans into the tension filled air.

Hands wrap around your bare waist, pulling you flush against him, chest to chest.

He follows through with exactly what he’d said moments earlier, kissing a trail down to your breasts before wrapping his soft mouth around the peak of one of them.

Wet and hot, his tongue sucks and swirls until you’re moaning embarrassingly loud. You react like you’ve never felt someone like this before, because truthfully, you hadn’t.

Your spine arches, pushing into his mouth and lacing your hands around his neck.

He pulls away, smirking at the hardened nipple he’s looking after, while you catch your breath.

“My turn.” You whispered, and despite your legs feeling like jelly, you kiss your own way down his chest until you meet his defined pectoral muscle.

Your lack of experience doesn’t show, you’re so eager to please him it makes you only confident. You lick against the warm skin of his chest, lulling your tongue over his own nipple— something a girl has never done to him before.

“Fuck—!” He bites out, teeth clamping down onto his lower lip.

You pay some attention to it before trailing up his shoulder, sucking the skin above his collarbone. Biting against it and making sure to leave a mark.

He slaps lightly at your ass, still covered in tight black pants, just as he is.

“You are so filthy, dove.” His voice lilts, dripping with honey,

“Who would’ve known… to look at you, no one would know you’re the kind of girl that’s going to wrap her hot little mouth on any skin she can.”

“Innocent thing you are, ready to do anything, hm?”

His nose nudges yours so he can get better access to your mouth, kissing into it again.

Merely minutes since he last had his lips on yours, and it feels like the first time all over again. It strikes and stirs hot in your stomach. Making you arch into him again, pressing your chest against his.

“So needy… you must be soaked…” his thoughts spill from his lips out loud.

“Panties that I bought you are probably wet through by now, little cunt all weepy for something it’s never had.”

“D’ya want it, baby?” His sultry voice asks.

“Harry, I want it, I want you.” You plead, and he unbuttons your black pants.

The zipper is pulled down by him, and he slides his hand in between your legs. Cupping over the fabric, it’s almost hot to touch.

“So warm in there, I can feel y’clenching around nothin’.”

He rubs softly over you, and you moan out, rutting into his hand.

His lips kiss you hot and slow as he runs tedious circles over the top of your panties.

Once you’re moaning and arching into him, he slowly retracts his hand out, “get in the middle of the bed.”

You follow his instructions moving to lay in the centre of his mattress as he shucks his pants off.

He’s in nothing but boxers as he climbs above your legs, “No one else has ever made you come, have they?”

His green eyes lock with yours,

“N-no.”

“No one’s ever wrapped their lips around your swollen clit and sucked until you finish against their tongue? Or fucked their fingers into you until you are almost crying?”

You can’t even verbally answer, only able to shake your head side to side.

“Mm, okay,” he hums, lowering down to kiss your belly as he slowly pulls your pants down from your legs.

A smirk rises on his lips as he kisses below your navel, “Then I take it no one’s ever pushed their cock into you?”

Your cheeks were burning as you squeezed your thighs together, only in black lacy panties that he bought you.

“Alright baby,” he smirks, “look at you then, in this little pair of black underwear I got ya. Did you think about what was going through my head as I picked them out?”

“Never thought I’d be privledged enough to see y’in them.”

The warm candle highlights the goosebumps that have already prickled over your skin, each kiss he’s pressed to your bare body has made them spread like wildfire.

He takes his time to tease you, lips lulling over your lower stomach, tongue tracing the upper band of your underwear.

This continues until you’re begging him for anything, “I can’t— h— fuck… Harry.”

Your speech is slurred like you’re half awake, “Please touch me.”

“I am touching you.” He stated, green eyes flickering up to yours, face with devilish intent.

“More…” was the only word you could sigh out to him, unable to hold eye contact with him for longer than a second.

His hand comes to the back of your knee, pushing it up so your legs spread. He licks a slow, pleasing stripe against the dip between your thigh and where you want him the most.

Your hips jut upwards, and his fingers trace over your centre above the fabric covering it. As you whine wordlessly into the comforter, he tucks his finger into the edge seam of your panties. Pulling the elastic back and letting it snap back against your skin.

Not enough to hurt, but enough for the vibration to ripple through your core.

“Jus’ say the words, dove.” He murmurs, kissing over where your clit is.

“Take them off.” Your own hands start frantically pulling the sides down your thighs.

“Tha’s my girl.” He taps over where he just kissed with his thumb, laughing at your attempt to get them off, helping you get them all the way down. Tossing them over his shoulder, leaving them somewhere behind him to be dealt with later.

His eyes finally lock onto your bare body. Entirely naked.

How badly you want him is evident, and his fingers immediately move to run down your dripping centre.

“You…” he speaks, voice raspy and dripping with desire, “are a fucking angel.”

“Prettiest little cunt I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Fuckin’ hell. The things im going to do to you if you’ll let me.”

The second they glide down you, grazing over your entrance, all conscious thoughts and conscious movement disappear. Almost like a magic trick. Suddenly everything you do is automatic, like your breathing or your heart beating. You have no conscious play in it.

This includes the words coming from your mouth.

“Finger me.” You moan shamelessly, clenching around nothing as he touches you.

He almost groans at your request, “Mm, well I gotta stretch you out, hey?”

Taking a few moments to rub over you slowly, he eventually slides his middle finger into you. It glides in so smoothly. Even just the idea of his hands touching you this way has you completely melted, your back arching off the mattress as he moves in and out gently, the subtle rolling inside you enough to send you insane.

“C’mon dove, let me taste.” He pushes your legs open wider.

No part of you registers what he’s saying until his lips attach to your clit, licking over your arousal that’s spread entirely over your core.

“God!” You cry out as he flicks his tongue and curls his finger, the combination heavenly.

It’s bliss for him just watching you, the way your body reacts to every little touch he administers.

Another finger pushing into you and you’re already a mess around his hand and mouth. At whatever point he thought you couldn’t get any wetter, he was entirely wrong.

“Y’gushing around me, baby. Two fingers and you’re clenching like you could finish jus’ like this— so tight too.” His words are spoken against you, and the vibration just makes you fall deeper and deeper.

“Feel so good, Harry.” You moan out, hands finally finding his soft curls. Wrapping around them and tugging his face into you.

The scene is erotic. Pink lips against you, fingers pushed into you. Same tan arm holding onto your leg that you’ve stared at many times before.

His cock is aching while he does this to you, hearing you whine his name like a broken record as he picks up the intensity. Tongue and fingers forming a rhythm, one that quickly is building an intense heat in the low of your stomach.

Sitting up, he removes his fingers without warning as he repositions himself. You immediately miss the feeling of him inside of you, somewhere in the back of your head wondering how you’re ever going to go without the sensation.

It blips suddenly to wondering what the fuck you’re both going to do after tonight… something that would make you overthink into a deadly spiral usually. But it’s quickly forgotten about again when he rests on his knees between your spread legs, and pulls your ass up onto his thighs.

Your legs are spread open completely, he has a view of you he’s only ever dreamed of. Your wet glistening cunt in front of him, entirely his to please tonight.

You’re still babbling out his name like a mantra, mixed with a few different sighed words. Varying from “please” to “fuck” to “touch me”.

They get lodged in your throat when you watch him dip down and lick along you completely. Spitting onto your clit once he gets to it.

Fucking filthy.

You loved it.

His free hand reaches to touch your chest, rocking his tongue against you. Mixing spit and arousal together over your swollen core.

“Taste so fuckin’ good.” He moans into you, flicking his tongue over your entrance.

He’s eating you out so damn well you want to suck him off desperately in attempt to thank him.

It doesn’t take long before the same hand that was pressed into your breast, tweaking your sensitive nipples his sliding back down along your waist.

“Three,” he murmurs into you, “reckon you can take that like a good girl?”

“Yea… yea!” You eagerly nod, your own hand coming to squeeze your breast, “need to feel you.”

“You are so fuckin’ dirty… beggin’ t’take more n’ more of me.”

He holds the back of your thigh as he works to push in a third finger. This one burns, you never put more than two of your own fingers inside of you. And compared to his— size wise— they don’t measure up in the slightest.

The pinch you feel is a mixture of pleasure and pain. But your body registers the sensation that feels otherworldly as you stretch around him.

“Harry!” You whine out, hips stuttering as he slowly curls his three fingers inside of you, “Holy shit.”

He moved feverishly, showing clearly how bad he wants you to come. He wants to watch you entirely unravel between his touch.

Everything is starting to build up in your stomach, the pressure twisting and clenching. Your hand comes up to your own hair, fisting through it at the intensity.

He pumps his fingers in fast, quick movements, curling them quickly inside of you as he watches in complete awe at your bodies reaction to him. Your back is arching, lips whining out beautiful sounds, a light dusting of sweat shines between your chest.

“Taking it so well,” he murmurs, leaning down to attach his lips to your clit as he continues fucking you with his fingers.

The second his tongue swirls over you, you realise you’re about to loose it.

“H-harry—“ the sheer desperation in your voice tells him all he needs to know, along with the pulsating of your entrance.

“Don’t stop…” pleading to him, “i— im gonna come.”

He smiles against you, sucking harshly as you start to squirm and pant underneath him.

“Want to watch it,” he presses a kiss above your clit, “want to watch every second of it.”

You nod feverishly, head starting to spin and body starting to feel like it’s floating.

“Are you gonna show me, dove? Show me just how good im making y’feel?” His voice is seductively low.

“Don’t want you holding back, I want to hear you.”

“Harry.” The thrust of his hand is beginning to tip you over the edge, his words only bringing you closer.

He leans his body over yours, mouth coming to kiss over you. Trailing up your chest until his lips meet yours.

The kiss is open-mouthed and desperate as you moan into it.

You want his fingers as deep as they can possibly fit into you, and you suddenly are verbalising this, “harder, deeper, please…”

“Want it rough, baby. I’ll give you rough.” He chuckles against you.

All the sudden, his pace quickens, and he’s pushing them in and out of you at a rate your brain can’t even keep up with.

The feeling of the palm of his hand slapping against your clit makes your whole body seize up, you cry out in pleasure as he talks in your ear.

“Cmon, let it all out baby.” He coos, voice soft compared to his movements.

Your moans are loud and stuttered out at each thrust. Starting to shake as your stomach tightens, “Please, please!”

His movements don’t falter for a second, and suddenly your orgasm hits you like a train. Whole body shaking as you clench around his fingers.

He even moans as he feels you finish, imagining how it would feel to have your cunt squeezing his cock instead.

You cry out his name so loud it echoes through his bedroom, all while he rocks his fingers through your orgasm.

“That’s it angel,” palm hitting your clit to make you clench again, drawing out the pleasure, “fucking gorgeous…”

“So beautiful, letting me watch your face screw up as you came all over my hand.”

“Can’t wait to have my face down there someday.”

The thought makes you writhe against him, “maybe later, hm?”

“I’ll get my tongue inside of you, play with that pretty clit until you do that all again… finish on m’face.”

He’s dirty talking you as you come down, and even when he finally draws his fingers out of you, you can’t help but want more.

Unsure if it’s just him telling you all the stuff he wants to do, or just how badly you want him in general, you realise how worked up you still are.

Not often would you orgasm and still be craving more, but right now you swear you could be doing this all night with him.

His soaked fingers run up between your chest and come to his mouth. His green eyes finding yours as he sucks them clean, humming as he tastes you.

“Fuck me—“ a sudden burst of energy comes to you, hands coming to push yourself to sit up. During it all, you’d slid off his lap and back down onto the mattress.

“Let me suck your cock.”

He’d straightened upright along with you, sitting back on his knees as he had been earlier.

His brows shot up in surprise as you suddenly had this new found energy, “baby— you haven’t even fully come down yet, just have a moment.”

“Harry.” Your gaze snaps to him, “im going to suck you off until you decide you’re going to fuck me, okay?”

“I need you to fuck me.”

“Jesus Christ.” He curses, throwing his head back. His cock is aching, and he can’t even imagine saying no to that.

“I’m gonna struggle not to finish the second you wrap your lips around me, princess.”

“You can hold it, captain. I want to taste you.”

It doesn’t take you long before you’re pushing him backwards, making his legs stretch out as you kiss him quickly.

He hums into your mouth as you palm at his briefs, squeezing the fabric over his hard cock.

You move to pull his briefs down his thighs, listening to him groan once he is finally out of the tight confines. Pulling away from his warm lips, you look down between you.

Jesus Christ.

Of course the Captain was heavily equipped.

The tip of him was flushed and swollen, you just knew how well it would fill your mouth. He was the embodiment of pure sex. Everything about him.

“Can i?” You glance up, looking at the way his plump bottom lip is taken between his white teeth.

He nods quickly, fluttering his eyes as he pictures the mental image of what you’re about to do to him. How much this is about to fuck him up.

Not having to imagine long. Your body sinks down, knees pushing back on the comforter as you half lay between his legs.

“God—“ he draws out, you haven’t even touched him, but the sight of you is enough to make his head spin.

Your bare ass and the arch of your back is all he can pay attention to as you rest on your elbows between his thighs.

“You look so…” he struggles to find the word, and the thought will never be completed. Your hands wrap gingerly around him, and although you’re unsure how to go about pleasing him, you waste no time licking along the underside of him.

“Fuck!” He spits out immediately, hips flexing upward at the touch.

Lips wrapping over his head, you just go with what feels natural, sucking the tip gently, careful not to nick him with your teeth.

“Y/N.” He sighs out your name, letting you envelop his senses entirely.

He doesn’t know how long he’s going to be able to hold out from finishing in your mouth. He’s already feeling that tightness spread across his abdomen, and you haven’t even been on him for a whole minute.

You hum around him in response to your name, hands sliding up his thighs and meeting the muscles of his chest. Selfishly you palm over the hard slabs, watching his brows furrow in pleasure as you slip further down his length.

Hollowing your cheeks you suck around him, moving up and down gently as his hand laces into your hair.

“You… your mouth is like fuckin’ heaven.”

“Could sit here all night with that thing wrapped around me.”

You revel in the idea, saliva dripping down his cock as you draw back up to having only his tip between your lips. Gently pulling off to talk, “I’d do it.”

He feverishly lets his head fall back, pulling at the hair he’s got between his fingers.

“You’d be a good girl and warm my cock all night with that mouth of yours?”

You nod as he leans down to pull your face up to his, kissing your lips without shame of where they’d just been.

He slides his tongue into your mouth, drawing across your bottom lip, “Another night baby. You wanted me inside of you, so you’ll get that.”

“A little longer on you, please.” You whine, wanting to please him with your mouth just like he had for you.

The briefs hanging onto his thighs get pulled all the way off before your body leans back down, kissing over his length and sucking harshly at certain sides of him.

Who is he to say no to you.

Licking along him, you drag your tongue over his tip before sliding your lips down him again. This time you move faster, and he is trying to keep his thoughts controlled as you fill your mouth with as much of him as you can without gagging.

“Good girl,” he moans, watching your ass rise and fall with each bob of your head.

His prick is practically dripping with your saliva, and he don’t think he’s ever felt a better feeling in his life.

So good that he can only go so long before he’s swearing, and pulling at your hair, “Fuck— Y/N I’m going to come if y’don’t stop.”

You hum around him, having half the mind to just keep going so you can taste him fully. Somehow he finds the strength to hold it off, “No, baby, take your mouth off— please.”

You slide off him with a pop, looking up at him with swollen lips.

The sensation of your mouth trailing up him had him teetering on the edge of his high, “Fuck,” his hips stuttering against nothing as his head is thrown back. Attempting to push down the feeling he was so close to giving into.

Its so hot. Watching his frown get deeper as he screws his eyes shut, all the hard muscles on his body tightening.

His hand comes to his hair as he pulls on it, the orgasm he was so close to was finally receding. You’d just unintentionally edged him.

“Y’so fucking horny.” He pants, “can’t even wait to have me inside you.”

He lifts you up by your arms and pulls you on top of him, chest to chest. You can feel his length curving against your ass as his lips come down to suck on your nipple. Licking over it harshly without mercy.

“Want you to fuck me senseless, Harry.” You moan, back arching into him as you grind down against him, arousal practically dripping down onto his cock.

“Please,” you begin to beg as he works over your breast. You can’t seem to stop the words flowing from your lips, “I want you so bad.”

His mouth moves off your hardened nipple, looking you in the eyes, sighing out a deep breath.

You search his unreadable gaze, and there’s a sudden blanket of silence that falls over you both. Maybe a hint of realisation has set in, in that what you’re about to do is irreversible.

“I jus’ want y’to be sure.” He says, sobering the intense moment.

“Think about it for a moment, okay? Just take a second.” He kisses your cheek, hands rubbing delicately on your back, “I don’t want this to be something y’regret.”

You nod slowly, pursing your lips as you genuinely take the moment to consider everything. You are about to fuck a pirate. Which isn’t even the worst part.

Still, even as you think about the situation, and all the potential repercussions, you can’t find it in yourself to want to stop.

“I know we don’t know where this is going, and we both know we shouldn’t be doing this.” You speak quietly.

He hums in agreement, his pink lips pursed as he lets you talk, “but… no. I still want this.”

“And I rarely ever get to make decisions for myself… so thank you for letting me do that.” You say, voice sounding certain.

“Don’t thank me for that, that should be your right.” He states, brows furrowed.

“Shh, let me thank you anyway.” You nudge his nose to the side, kissing him gently. Lips clicking as you both take a moment to do just that.

“I think i have condoms,” he begins.

A laugh bubbles from your chest at his uncertainty, “You think,”

Shaking his head in a sort of amusement, “I haven’t used them in a long time, dove. I don’t bring girls in here.”

“Yet here I am.”

“Yet here you are.” He hums, hoping you pick up the underlining statement in his words. You are special. Much more than just a girl he’s got in his bed for the night.

“Wanna feel you.” You whispered, implying you don’t want to use anything. And honestly, your whole body ached to feel him for the first time without a condom on. Especially since you knew it wasn’t an issue with it.

“The court mandates us to have a rod…”

He frowns, “what do you mean?”

“So I don’t get pregnant before I’m married. It’s fine it’s reversible… they can take it out. They do it to most girls incase we start fooling around behind their backs.”

“Fuckin’ Hell. I hate them.” He spits, “Always controlling other people bodies.”

“If you’d prefer to—“ the sentence doesn’t even make it out of your mouth before he interrupts,

“No baby, that’s your choice.“ His tone is entirely certain, not wishing to have any influence on your decision.

“As long as you don’t have some kind of pirate STD, i wanna feel you, harry.” You tease, but tone still genuine.

It causes him to laugh, “No STD’s here.”

“Alright, good.” You nod, mouth forming a grin, “I trust you, if you trust me.”

His green gaze searches yours, and you feel the weight of your words for a few seconds until he breaks the silence, “I trust you.”

Nodding, you bring your lips back to his. Giving him a chaste kiss of appreciation that he smiles into.

But now that you’ve committed, that sense of need is rushing back into you. But this time, it’s like the flood gates are open, your movements starting to get quickly eager again.

That gentle kiss quickly turns heated as you grind down over his length, excited he gets to feel you skin against skin.

He mutters into your mouth, “Perfect baby, every inch of you.”

Immensely tired of waiting, your voice whines out a plea, “Fuck me harry, please.”

“M’gonna fuck you, don’t worry.” He whispers, grabbing your hips and flipping you around. Leaving your back pressed into the pillows as he pulls your waist to his.

He looks down at you, hair fanned out and big eyes looking at him with parted lips. His own gaze dips to the supple flesh of your tits, inexplicably excited to watch them bounce as he fucks you.

You can’t help but take the opportunity to commit his stance above you to memory, the muscles of his tan chest and the dark ink of his tattoos. The thought of scratching your nails along his laurel adorning hips…

He can’t take you staring at him like that. He leans down to pepper kisses along your neck— finally grabbing himself, a hiss coming from his teeth as he rubs his tip along you and over your clit.

“Tell me if it’s too much okay?” He says, lining his head up to your soaked entrance.

You sigh out several words of agreement, clutching his shoulders as he slowly starts to push into you.

With how turned on you are, and his early preparation with his fingers, his tip slides into you with some ease. There’s still some tension as he pushes in, “Relax, dove…”

His voice is so deep. He’s still clutching onto every ounce of his control, praying he can hold himself together when he hears you whine as you’re being stretched out by his cock.

“I won’t last long if you keep squirming like tha’.” He screws his eyes shut, holding you still by the hips.

“Fuck—“ it feels so different to anything you’ve ever felt. He curves into you like it was fate, like every inch of him was tailor made to you.

“Deeper, go deeper please…” you beg, nails scratching at the messy curls on his head.

His brain works on overdrive to process the fact he’s the first person to ever do this to you. That you’re experiencing this with him for the very first time.

Virginity is a tacky term for him, in the pirate world it’s regarded as the best thing you can take from a girl. The way it’s treated disgusts him. But the only thing for him that’s important is that your first experience is the best he can give it, and that you feel safe— treasured even. Exactly how you should.

“Takin’ it so well…” He sighs out, finally all the way inside of you.

“Kiss me, Harry.” You say, and he wastes no time leaning down to capture your mouth.

Kissing him with his cock fully pressed into you is an entirely different experience. As your tongue glides against his lower lip, he stutters his hips inside of you. Hand coming to play with your clit as he starts to move gently.

You roll your body against his uncontrollably, wrapping your hands into his hair to pull his lips further into yours.

“Feels so good—“ you groan into the corner of his lips, the stimulation you’re getting feels like it’s coming from all angles. Like you could float away.

“You feel so good. So tight around me, Y/N.” He thrusts a little harder as he speaks, moving back down to kiss you. It’s also harder this time, both your tongues clashing against each other as he starts to build a pace between your legs.

He can feel how coated he is with your arousal, your cunt only growing wetter as he ruts into you.

“Do what you want to me.” You pant out, your body aching for anything he’s willing to give to you.

His green eyes are almost swallowed entirely by his pupils, “Fuck.”

“Can y’take it rough y’think?” He asks, nose bumping yours as you hold eye contact.

You nod feverishly, and it causes his head to throw itself back as he starts to work himself into you harder. Taking the opportunity, you bring your lips to suck against the arch of his throat.

He never wants this to end. He wants to take you like this all night. Change locations, fuck you on the floor, against the wall, bent over his bed, even with you pressed into the counter of the bathroom so you can watch it all in the mirror.

His throat is vibrating as he moans, you can feel it against your lips. You’re licking over his tan skin with your tongue, swearing you can feel the beat of his pulse underneath.

You start to loose yourself in him again, hands drawing down to scratch against the muscles of his chest as you clench around his cock. He is captivating at the best of times, even when you’re 5 feet apart you can get swept up by him.

It’s like a hold down under a wave, you can’t get up above the surface long enough to catch a breath. You don’t know what way is up or down, you’re spinning and all you can feel is him, he is the water glistening with rays of sun that fully surrounds you.

Now amplify that by a hundred and maybe that begins to cover how he feels while he’s inside of you.

Moans start bubbling out of you with each thrust, you feel him hitting that spot inside of you everytime he ruts back into you, balls slapping against your ass as he gives you himself exactly how you’d asked.

He moves his hand off your clit and grabs your hips, angling them up, pulling you flush against him. Entirely rough as he fucks into you at a slightly new angle, this on its own sends you wild.

Your back arches off the bed, crying out as he slams into you, your wet cunt taking him as deep as it allows. Squeezing around him so hard his jaw is going lax, curls on his head sticking to his forehead.

“Good girl,” he groans out, “taking my cock so fuckin’ well.”

“Knew how good this would feel. M’gonna want you all the fucking time.” Slapping your ass, he keeps the filthy words coming from his mouth, “Gonna be bending you over any chance I get, angel.”

“Please…” you nod feverishly, “Need you all the time, need your cock.”

His tattooed arm comes from your hip and runs up along your side, hand cupping your bouncing tits. Squeezing one of them, he then trails up your neck and coming to cradle your jaw. His thumb slides past your lips and presses into your wet mouth.

You don’t need him to even tell you, you just suck on it, letting saliva pool around his warm finger that’s rubbing circles against your tongue. He draws it in and out, rubbing over your plump lips and tracing a line down your chin. Eventually coming to flick his thumb against your nipple— your own spit coating it.

All of this, and you start to feel the pressure build in your stomach, of course you couldn’t last long as he fucked you like this.

“Harry!” His name started to come from your lips over and over again. Legs beginning to shake, heart racing in your chest.

“Gonna come?” he grunts out, “this sweet pussy gonna come around my cock? Drip all over it?”

You cry out as his body pounds against you, his hands guiding your hips into the movement as your eyes physically can’t stay open. You swear stars are beginning to explode behind them.

They squeeze shut as your whole body almost stops working. Your heart and lungs feel like they completely seize as you hang onto the peak of your orgasm for a breathless moment.

“Fuck—“ he hissed out, feeling how tight you’ve gone around him, “I’m gonna finish with you, cmon baby.”

His fingers come to quickly rub over your clit— a few fast, tight circles, and that is all it takes.

Your moan reverberates around the four walls of his room as you come for the second time, bouncing against his cock as your whole body writhes in your climax.

“Harry, I’m coming!” Your voice is pitched so high, half whine half cry as you state the obvious. As if he missed the fast clenching of your entrance around him.

“Fuck— fuck, im—“ He can’t get the sentence out as his cock starts to pulsate, his balls tightening as he realises he’s about to follow along with you.

He gives a final, deep and hard thrust that brings him to his orgasm. You feel the heat of his come inside of you as the movements of his hips become sloppy with each squeeze of his cock.

The strength of his climax is only amplified by you edging him accidentally earlier, he feels this in his bones.

“Yessss—“ The feeling of him emptying out in your cunt is like heaven, “give it all to me, Captain.”

“Want all my come huh, fuckin’ filthy thing?” He rasps, body hunched over at the heat still bursting through his whole body.

You both ride out your highs with eachother. Hands coming to touch eachother all over as your bodies begin to slow down. His palms skate over your breasts, and your own fingers run up and down his tensed arms. The two of you start to stop shaking and squeezing as the high of your orgasms naturally close out.

The sound of panting is all that fills the room. Breaths laboured and exhausted.

“Baby,” he says, sounding entirely out of breath, “took me so good.”

He leans down to kiss you gently, and you whine against his lips, unable to find the words for anything that just happened.

Slowly, you make out with eachother. Tongues licking gently along lips and against one another. An entirely different sort of intimacy from the sex you just had, and a silent form of a thank you as he slides his cock out of you.

He groans into your mouth as he does it, feeling sensitive as he slips out of your warmth. He pulls away to look at the state of you, something he’s not willing to miss.

The sight was something he wish he could capture forever— no matter how filthy it sounds. Your pussy is swollen, all fucked out as his come is starting to drip out of you.

You watch him stare, a prideful smirk on his lips at the mess he’s made of you. Chocolate curls over his forehead, cheeks and lips flushed a warm red, and his tan skin glistening in a sweat.

Looking at him is like looking at a painting.

He longs to lean down and clean you up with his mouth, but it’s clear how exhausted you both are, so he gets up instead— despite you begging him to stay, he kisses your forehead, “Just getting a cloth to clean y’up. I’m coming back.”

Running water over a washcloth in the bathroom, he comes back out to wipe the fresh and damp material over you. You whine at the touch, the area sensitive from two intense orgasms. Despite the dirty nature of it, it makes him smile softly.

Tending to you after he’s fucked you breathless is almost half the treat. Watching you smile back at him, how content you look. Knowing you’re safe in his company.

Once you’re cleaned up, he chucks the dirtied cloth back in the bathroom to be dealt with later, not wasting any more time and coming to lay back down with you.

“Thank you.” You whispered, now that your brain is clearing you’re becoming unsure what to do now. Do you act as normal? He senses your sudden unease like instinct, wrapping a hand around your waist and tugging you into his chest.

“Don’t be shy, y’fine dove.” He kisses you again, hand running over your side comfortingly, “just had m’cock in you, no room left for that.”

You nod into the gentle kiss he’s giving you, pressing your body to his as you feel less anxious now he’s affirming everything is okay.

As you both lay with eachother, softly touching skin, you wonder what this will change. How the after effects of this will alter the future.

You’re hyperaware standing on top of a precipice of change. Despite wishing you could act naive, and attempt to believe that everything can go back as it once was— you know that will never happen. It’s something you’re both excited and terrified of. But in this moment, with the way the captain of this ship is holding you, touching you, kissing you— you can’t help but feel like everything is going to be alright.

———

taglist:

@saturnheartz @slap-me-harry @ilovehsstuff @ameerakane20 @matildasatellite @harrysslut7 @sunflowersey @styleswiftie @anotheryoutubefanpage @straightontilmornin @oknothanks26 @closureesny @angel-upon @brother-lauren @maddie7writes @tenaciousperfectionunknown

let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for the next part<3

another a/n:

wow!! so hello

mini catchup on me being absent for literally half of last year!! 2024 I was sooo busy with my studies, but you’d all be proud since I pulled some really good grades last year, so my absence in creative writing field on tumblr did have a reason and at the very least paid off. but I missed posting soo much and I’m so happy to be back. unbelievably grateful for how many messages and inboxes I got about my writing over last year as well, I love you all so much.

i literally can’t believe it’s been so long since part 3 of pirates gold was released. really left yall high and dry😔 hopefully not after this part, I swear this is the longest piece I’ve ever wrote on tumblr, so I hope you all have enjoyed it. I have plenty of plans for part 5 in my notes app so yall keep ur eye out for that.

thank you for not only reading my silly authors note, but for reading this next part. your support means the world, and I am planning on being much more active this year so get excited for heaps of oneshots and other tidbits.

much love to you all, stay safe and hydrated I’ll see you very soon!!

P.S ALSO IM SO SORRY FOR ANY TYPOS I MISSED💔 I have reread this as much as my brain will allow me the last week, I will be making edits over the next little while to fix those mistakes but hopefully there’s not too many x

[katelovesit]

pop$tar

[paulyenvol6]

Unsatisfied

Harry Styles one shot that is basically just smut without plot. Enjoy :)

Contains: adult content (only read if you're 18+), smut, fingering, oral (f & m) receiving, p in v, unprotected sex, soft and mean dom Harry, submissive reader, A LOT OF edging, aftercare, fluff

Wordcount: ~2.00k

Masterlist

Harry sat on the edge of the bed, y/n standing in front of him.

"Take your shirt and pants off, love, and then come here."

She pulled her shirt over her head and then placed it on the dresser, knowing that Harry didn’t like it when she just threw the clothes on the floor. Then she took off her pants. Harry unshamingly regarded her exposed chest and the rest of her body, that was only covered by a thin pair of panties.

"Good girl," he whispered and y/n felt herself getting wetter every second. She approached him and Harry tapped on his thigh.

"Sit," he spoke and y/n sat on his lap, his right thigh between her legs. He petted the hair out of her face and stroke her cheek.

"You haven’t been very good lately, have you?" he whispered.

"I haven’t."

"I haven’t what?" "I haven’t, sir," she quickly corrected and looked at him with her sweetest expression. Harry lazily ran his finger over her covered cunt and pressed his digit against her clit. Y/n shrieked and grabbed his shoulders. He rolled his eyes in response and grabbed her chin.

"It almost becomes boring, sweetheart. Do you want me to fucking punish you? You’re always so needy for me and want me to make you feel good but you can’t behave."

"M’sorry," she whispered and looked down.

"I know you are. You’re gonna prove it."

He pushed her down on her knees in front of him and grabbed her chin once again.

"You’re gonna be my good girl?"

Y/n quickly nodded. "I will, please let me make you feel good."

"Hands behind your back. M’gonna fuck your mouth. And I don’t want any complains or tears. Y’know your safe word and gesture?"

"Yes, Harry. Red and tapping your thigh three times."

"Good. You’re gonna use it if you need, you promise? Don’t wanna hurt you," he asked with a serious look on his face.

"Yes. I promise."

Harry nodded and then ran his thumb over her buttom lip. He was so hard and needed a release so badly. He opened the zipper of his pants and got his cock out. Y/n bit her lip but didn’t dare reach out to touch him so she just watched him, shivering from excitement.

Harry ran the tip of his cock over her lips and then pushed inside of her mouth. He sighed at the feeling of her warm mouth around his cock and started to thrust in and out. He hit the back of her throat which made her gag and Harry soothingly touched her hair.

"Good girl. Doin‘ very well f’me."

His other hand held her hair and made her keep still so he could fuck her mouth. It didn’t take him long until he felt the warm feeling building up in his stomach. He pulled y/n off his cock and stroke his cock, keeping him on the edge.

"Where am I gonna put my cum, mhm? Think you deserve to swallow it?"

She looked up to him submissively. "It’s up to you, sir."

He chuckled and made his decision.

"Open," he growled and kept going up and down his shaft with his hand while his tip was inside her mouth. He came and y/n felt his cum shooting down her throat. She choked but Harry kept her still with the hand that was inside her hair.

"Fuck. Fuck, baby," he moaned and closed his eyes in pleasure.

When he had released every drop he felt his breath slowing down again and he pulled y/n, who had been licking him to clean him off his cock. Her lips were covered with cum. Harry ran his thumb over her cheeks and then leaned down to kiss her.

"You were very good, love."

"Thank you, sir."

He smiled and then sat up again. "On the bed."

She quickly obeyed and laid down on her back, excitedly waiting for what was going to happen now. She pressed her legs together to get rid of the pulsing heat between her legs that had gotten worse while she had sucked him off. Harry noticed it and chuckled.

"So fucking desperate. Open your legs f’me."

It was uncomfortable but she did as she was told and Harry crawled between her legs and spread her wider with his underarms. He could clearly see the dark patch on her panties and he once again pressed his finger against her clit. Y/n whimpered and tried to close her legs around him, but Harry forced her open again.

"Stay open, m’not gonna say it again."

He played with her clit for some time and then pulled down her panties. As he regarded her bare pussy he licked his lips.

"So fucking pretty."

"Please Harry," y/n whined and shifted on the bed. Harry smirked.

"God, I love when you beg me."

"Please, I need you," she whimpered.

"What do you need, honey? Use this pretty mouth and tell me."

"Need t’feel your mouth," she whispered and Harry stroke her cheek.

"There you go. Not that hard, is it?"

She shook her head and Harry slowly leaned down to kiss her right above her pussy. He kissed his way down until he softly pressed his lips on her clit and then licked from her hole up to her clit. His eyes rolled back at the taste of her and he softly sighed.

"Could stay here forever," he mumbled and greedily licked into her while his finger played with her clit.

"Harry, fuck. So good," she whined. He switched to licking her clit with his tongue in small circles and the girl arched on the bed.

"Harry," she cried out and dug her nails in the sheets.

"I know baby. S’alright I got you," he whispered.

When he saw that she was about to come, as her walls tightened and her panting got heavier he suddenly stopped his movements and raised his head from her pussy. Y/n immediately looked up with a suprised look on her face.

"What are you doing?" she asked with teary eyes.

"Spread your legs," Harry ordered and took a condom from the nightstand.

"Why wouldn’t you let me come?" she asked, her legs pressed together.

Harry looked at her and stroke her cheek.

"Cause I didn’t feel like letting you come."

Y/n pouted and her lower lip slightly trembled.

"Quit the whining, y/n. Maybe I’m gonna let you come later. Now spread your legs."

She did as she was told, still pissed but Harry knew it would stop soon. He stroke his cock a few times and then ran the tip through her folds, stopping at her clit. Y/n whimpered and Harry could sense that she was already so messy and her mind was far away from the edging. He aligned his cock with her entrance and slowly slid in. She was so wet that there were no problems but he still gave her some time to adjust.

Then he started thrusting into her. His hand immediately wandered to her clit, rubbing it in small circles and y/n fell apart under his touch.

"Harry," she moaned and grabbed his shirt.

"Yes Baby, I know."

"M’gonna cum," she whined and Harry’s hand immediately left her clit. Tears welled up in her eyes and she desperately clung to his shirt.

"No, please keep touching me," she cried and took his wrist.

In response he flipped her over so she was on her stomach and he started fucking her from behind. After a few minutes his hand went between her legs again to rub her clit, a touch that y/n welcomed even though she was scared that he’d stop again before she’d come. And he did, when he could sense that she was close he stopped his movement again and y/n turned around to look at him.

"Harry, please let me come, I need it so bad."

"No, but keep begging, I like that a lot," he answered and roughly smacked her ass.

"Please. Please, I’ve been good, haven’t I?"

"If you were good you’d shut up now."

She closed her eyes and looked to the wall again. Harry then stopped his movement inside of her and pulled out. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but suddenly she felt his tongue on her pussy again. He kitten – licked her clit and she felt like she was in heaven on one side but on the other side she found him incredibly mean. He licked her cunt as if it was his last meal but then once again stopped before she could come.

This time he didn’t immediately do anything after he was done so y/n turned around to see what he was doing. He stood next to the bed and opened his shirt. When he saw the tears on her face, he came up to her and cleaned her face with his thumb.

"Sweetheart. It’s alright," he spoke while soothing her hair.

"No, s’not. You came but I didn’t," she whispered.

"But m’not done with you yet."

"You’re mean," she pouted and Harry grabbed her chin.

"Watch your mouth, baby. M’still the one in control here."

"Yeah you are, that’s why you don’t let me come."

"If I were you I’d be good now, so the chances that I’m gonna let you come are higher. Understand?"

Y/n nodded and Harry ran his thumb over her lips.

"Turn around."

She lay on her stomach again and Harry lifted her hips so she was forced to be on her hands and knees. He didn’t waste any time and pushed into her again. He fucked her at a quite fast pace now and his touch on her clit met his thrusts.

"M’gonna cum, Harry, please let me," she panted after a while and he soothed her ass.

"Hold it, darling."

"I can’t please."

His hand traveled to her boobs and he played with her nipples. "You’ll have to."

Her whole body was shaking and she grabbed the bedsheets.

"But it’s so hard, please, I – "

Harry quickly pulled out of her and stopped his movement before she could come and she cried out.

"Harry, I - " "Give me your hand," he ordered and when she didn’t move he reached out and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her hand to her back and moved it to his cock. He made her form a fist and started fucking her hand and y/n was too fucked out and powerless to complain about the edging.

"Fucking hell," Harry growled and released. Most of the cum painted her back and some landed on her hand as well. He threw his head back, his heartbeat fast and loud in his ear.

"God, baby."

It took him some time to recover from his orgasm and then he grabbed her hips and carefully laid her on her back.

Now it was time to take care of her, he really had been mean to her. He removed the tears on her cheeks and kissed her gently on her lips.

"Such a good girl. M’gonna make you feel good now, I swear. M’gonna make you come, okay?"

She weakly nodded and Harry kissed his way down to between her legs. He didn’t waste any time now, he just wanted to make her come. His lips wrapped around her clit and he softly sucked on it while his tongue flicked it. After a few minutes her legs started to tremble.

"M’gonna come," she whimpered.

"Yes, come f’me, sweetheart. Come in my mouth."

Her orgasm was overwhelming and she cried out his name. Her hands grabbed his locks and she pressed her legs together around his head. Harry licked her through her orgasm and then when he had squeezed every moan and sigh out of her he laid down next to y/n, pulled her to him and caressed her hair. Then he got up to clean her. Y/n was half asleep and looked at him through half closed eyes.

"It's alright, love. I'll be done soon and then you can sleep."

After Harry had cleaned her pussy, he brought away the washcloth and laid down next to her.

She was asleep already and Harry soothingly ran his hand over her back until he was in the lands of dreams as well.

[nialls-golf-putt]

You Say It Tastes Like Candy

Niall thinks you just woke up in a really really good mood. He's in for a hell of a ride.

c/w: face riding, a hint of come eating and blowjobs ;) just a fluffy silly little smutty bit

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You rolled over in bed, burying your face under the duvet. The sun was shining in your face. Why was- Niall must've forgotten to pull the blackouts last night, you realised sleepily.

And no matter how much you tried, you just couldn't fall back asleep. Stifling a yawn, you sat up in bed, watching the sunlight pouring in through the sheer curtains.

Niall was still fast asleep, curled up sideways with his head on his hands, knees bent with his hair falling over his forehead. You pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, brushing the hair back. "Morning, Ni." You whispered, to which he grumbled something sleepily, turning his back to the curtains, and also- you.

So much for a romantic morning. Shaking your head to yourself, you pulled the covers off, ignoring his sleepy protests as you settled between his legs.

"Niall," You said in a soft sing-song voice, pressing kisses along his thighs, fingers playing along the waistband of his boxers.

"Mmph?" He mumbled sleepily, head now buried under his pillow.

Wasting no time, smirking to yourself, you slowly pressed your lips to the bulge through the thin fabric, eliciting an instant response from him (which you couldn't make out either, but sounded suspiciously like 'no fair babe').

Thank god for morning wood, you chuckled to yourself as you left open-mouthed kisses along his hip bones, following the trail of hair and tugging at the elastic with your teeth, to which he quickly obligingly raised his hips.

Men. You couldn't help but chuckle against his skin, goosebumps spreading at your warm breath as you pulled down his boxers, Niall bending one knee to help it off, spreading further to give you the space you needed.

You kept your eyes on him, smiling slightly to yourself as you dipped your head down, tongue darting out in kitten licks along his head, already angry red and weeping with precum.

You flattened your tongue, savouring the bitter feel of it, licking a broad stripe up from his balls, pausing at the spot under his head you knew he loved, keeping your tongue pointed as you drew patterns along the silky skin.

"Babe-" He whined softly.

"Mhm?" You asked, not taking your mouth off of him, pressing featherlight kisses along the underside of his cock, tracing the vein on your way up.

"'S today somethin' I'm forgetting-?" He asked groggily, lifting his head up slightly to look down at you before breaking off with a loud moan as you ducked your head down, swallowing him down halfway before popping off. You slowly wrapped your fingers around his now slick length, giving him a few slow firm pumps.

"Not that I know of." You hummed, hollowing your cheeks as you took him in again, hand wrapped around the base, squeezing gently.

"Bloody hell- 'S a damn good way to- fuck- wake up, then." He choked out as he looked down at you, his breath coming out in sharp gasps already, pupils blown wide.

You hummed softly around him, knowing it drove him crazy when you did, fingers dancing along his balls teasingly as you kept up the slow movements. His fingers were in your hair in no time, gripping tightly at the nape of your neck as he guided you, doing his best to not buck his hips up into your mouth.

"Fuck- Your mouth feels so fuckin' good, princess," He groaned out, grip tightening on your head as he held you down for a few seconds, letting out a string of expletives as he hit the back of your throat.

"That's it, fuck, you're so pretty when you're on your knees- oh, bloody-" He broke off with a deep moan, his hands gripping your hair so tightly you were certain you felt it pulled at the roots.

You couldn't help but smirk at his reactions, your grip on him tightening, enjoying the way his body responded to every flick of your tongue and touch of your hands. You glanced up at him, taking in his hair already clinging to his forehead, eyes scrunched shut, his lips parted with silent moans before you quickly popped off him, wiping your chin with your palm.

"Hey!" Niall protested immediately, his eyes flying open. "Princess, what the fuck?" He whined, all but pouting at you as he made grabby hands towards you where you were sitting back on your heels between his legs.

"I was so closeee." He said, making puppy eyes up at you but you shook your head, crawling towards the headboard. His eyes watched your every move, biting his lip to stifle a whimper as you pulled off the tshirt you wore to bed, leaving you clad only in your panties.

"Be patient, Ni." You said with a small smirk. "Good things come to those who wait," You said with a soft laugh, echoing what he always told you when he was in a teasing mood, leaving you whining and frustrated. It felt good to be on the other side for once.

Ignoring his grumbles, you slowly pulled off your underwear, smiling inwardly as you saw the glimmer in his eyes for a second as you straddled his waist. "You just had to ask, babe-" He started cockily, and you giggled as you saw the smug expression slip off his face as you slowly moved up, carefully putting your knees on either side of his shoulders.

"Oh"

That was all he said for a few seconds, his hands gripping your thighs, eyes riveted to your face.

"Get to work, Horan." You said with a soft laugh, wiggling your hips playfully.

He raised his eyebrow, face still turned up at you.

"Don't make me ask again, Ni."

"Do I atleast get to know what I did, cause there's always-"

"No. Later." You said, biting the inside of your cheek to stifle your smile.

"Yes, ma'am." He said, chuckling softly before he took a deep breath, wasting no time at all as he flattened his tongue, laving it along your slit, humming at the taste of your arousal. He darted along the sides, licking up stripes with his tongue pointed, pulling you down onto his face, his nose brushing your clit.

"If you're gonna sit on my face at least do it properly." He mumbled muffled against you, and you bit your lip as you felt the vibrations through you.

He kept his grip firm, fingers digging into your thighs as his tongue moved with finesse, darting along your swollen bud, teeth grazing against it for a second as you let out a loud moan, bracing yourself on the headboard, your hips grinding forward instinctively.

He groaned at the movement, urging you on, the vibrations causing you to whimper even louder, lightheaded already as he moved his tongue just the way you liked it, mumbling muffled praises against you.

"Niall, fuck, I-" You bit your lip, letting out a sound between a whine and a whimper as he teasingly let his tongue circle your entrance, dipping in just enough to leave you desperate for more.

His hands traced up your sides, cupping your breasts as you moved against his tongue, his stubble scratching ever so slightly at your skin. He pinched down on a nipple, rolling the hardened nub, moaning in satisfaction against you as it pebbled under his touch.

He kneaded at the flesh desperately, his other hand firm on your waist as his tongue finally slipped into you.

You gripped desperately at the headboard, the only thing grounding you as his hands danced over your body, playing with your arse as he built up a steady pace, his tongue fucking into you deliciously, curling it just right to press against the right spots, his nose nudging your clit every so often as you could feel your thighs starting to shake, the familiar knot tightening in your belly.

"Ni- Babe-" You whimpered out, trying to form a sentence as he squeezed at your flesh, fingers digging in and you instinctively leaned back, hand trailing along his abs, following the trail of hair as you grasped him, precum dripping down his entire length as you began stroking him in time with his tongue, his moan sending shockwaves through your body.

You couldn't even control the movement of your hips, grinding shamelessly against his mouth. Niall reached up, tracing his path along your breasts and waist down to your ass before giving you a firm smack, the sheer surprise of it more than anything sending you over the edge, waves of pleasure passing through you, your toes tingling as you rode out your orgasm, feeling like your knees were giving out on you.

Vaguely, you were aware of his own hips jerking against your hands, his warm come splattering all over your hand and his stomach as he caught his breath against you, tapping your thigh after a few seconds.

Chest still heaving, you slowly climbed off him, flopping down next to him. You brought your hand up to your mouth, licking off some of the warm come before holding it out in front of his mouth, trailing your damp fingers along his lips as he quickly captured your fingers in his mouth, making quick work of it, pressing a kiss to the fingertips before he let go.

You slowly lifted your head up, wiping your arousal off his glistening chin with your palm, chuckling slightly to yourself as he caught your hand, licking it clean again. "You're insatiable, Ni."

He laughed softly, trailing kisses up to your wrist as he looked at you. "Can't deny the allegations."

You exhaled softly, closing your eyes as you laid down beside him again.

"You know," He said, his voice hoarse. "If that's your idea of being all strict and punishing me, I wouldn't mind you punishing me daily."

"Shut up," You giggled, fondly swatting his chest.

"Can I at least now know what i did, though?" He asked, pulling you into his side as he carded his fingers through your hair.

"You forgot to pull the curtains last night." You murmured, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

"That's it!?" He said, with a soft incredulous laugh.

"What do you mean that's it?" You asked, unable to not laugh along. "The sun got in my eyes and woke me up- And then you turned your back to me when i tried to be all sweet and wake you up."

"Oh no no- Don't give me that." Niall said playfully. "There were no sweet intentions behind waking me up- It was all personal vendetta- 'I woke up so now he will too'."

"Was not!" You protested, laughing.

"It so was."

"There'll so definitely be a round two for that." You said, fake stern, giggling slightly.

"Get some breakfast in me, princess, and I'll do it twice." Niall grinned.

"Oh you're so on"

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A/n: Send an ask if you wanna be on my taglist <3 reblogs and comments hugely loveddd and here's my masterlist!

[eddiesxangel]

Stockholm Syndrom | Eddie Munson x Succubus!Reader

cw: contains darker themes so if you don’t feel comfy don’t read it. obsessive behaviours, mind control, magic, religion (nothing specific) demon!reader, cnc? (the demon controls Eddie in a way) seduction, submissive Eddie, female!demon, descriptions of the reader as a demon, p in v, oral, mild suffocation, dirty talk, cream pie, cum eating, biting, breeding!kink? (Idk reader needs cum to survive)

WC: 3.7k

Eddie was abruptly awoken in the middle of the night and felt like something was off. He looked at the clock and saw that it was exactly 3:33am. He felt a burning sensation all over his skin like he was being pricked by tiny needles. He checked his temperature, but it was normal. He felt like his clothes were suffocating him and had an intense urge to take them off. They felt unusually tight and itchy as if they were made of a different material. Eddie couldn't shake the feeling that something was different, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

As Eddie slowly regained consciousness, he noticed a peculiar smell lingering in the air of his room. It was a heady aroma, almost as if a candle had been blown out, yet none had been lit in his room for quite some time. He couldn't quite put his finger on the scent, but it was unusual and piqued his curiosity. As he lay there, his senses slowly coming back to him, he found himself increasingly intrigued by the mysterious fragrance.

He shuffled in his bed; taking his clothes off, he noticed a dim red light glowing from his closet. The more Eddie stared, the more he became hypnotized.

He wasn’t scared like he should have been. It was way too similar to the gates of The Upsidedow, but Eddie knew this was different. He felt a strange calmness and urge to go closer. He sat up, swung his feet over the edge of the bed, and suddenly everything returned to normal.

The shock in temperature jolted Eddie back into the confines of his warm bed. The February air seeped through the thin window pane of the new trailer that was graciously given by the government when his uncle was split in half during the “earthquake.”

He immediately went back to sleep, essentially forgetting about the whole experience until it happened again the next night.

3:33am, hot skin, smell of smoke, warm red light filling the closet, the need to discard his pyjama pants and boxers, but once he stood it all went away and Eddie was none the wiser.

For a week, this kept repeating, and it was no different tonight. 3:33am, hot, smoke, naked, but only this time Eddie stayed put in his bed. He had a feeling, seeded deep within him, not to move.

Eddie dared not to move, staring intently at the closet door. The trailer was empty but him; his room was dark, with only a faint red light inside the closet illuminating a small area around it. As he watched, the dim red glow started to grow brighter, casting a deeper orange hue throughout the room. The sight completely captivated him and couldn't take his eyes off the radiant light. He was so engrossed that he almost forgot to blink, and he continued to watch as the glow inside the closet continued to intensify.

Dry eyes travelled across the ceiling and down the walls, following the warm glow. Eddie's heart raced, but he wasn't panicked; he was excited to see what would emerge behind the sliding doors. Then, a shuffle emerged as if the clothes hung in the rack were being moved.

Eddie watched intently, waiting for something to happen. It felt like hours when it was merely seconds.

Then, out of the glow, slowly, the closet door slid inch by inch, your hand wrapped meticulously around the edge of the door, smirking to yourself that this silly little man finally let you out of your confines.

Your long, pointed, black nails tapped one by one against the plastic of the door before pushing it open with little effort, making the door rattle and shake against the track.

Typically Eddie would have let out a scream at the sudden loud noise but your aura was calming, almost soothing, like he didn’t have control over his emotions.

A sudden rush of blood traveled from Eddie’s heart to his cock, he hasn’t even seen you yet but all he could think about was how unbelievably turned on he was all of a sudden.

Eddie’s breathing increased as he watched the closet intently. He was frozen as his naked body lay there, cock growing hard by the second, but he knew he shouldn’t touch himself, not yet. If he waited, he would get rewarded. And god did he want to be rewarded.

You thought you’d teased your little play toy enough that you slinked one leg out, you were barefoot, lacquered black toes nails were the first thing Eddie saw, next was your dark red skin. Your smooth, thick leg stepped out from the door, and then your wide hip that bore only a dark loin cloth came into view.

You’ve waited, watched, and studied him for days to ensure he was the right fit.

You liked them slightly inexperienced, needy, desperate; you knew you could get him to beg for it, to feed you. The life of a succubus is not easy, especially for you when you have a certain type.

Eddie watched intently as you slowly exited the closet, fully showing yourself to your next target.

“W-who are you?” Eddie scanned your body, your long hair was covering your large breasts and the loin cloth was only covering so much of your middle. He was so transfixed on your naked skin that it took him a second to see your face, your beautiful face.

Your skin was a deep red; you had two blackened horns that curved up and over your head. Blacked-out wide eyes and full black lips. You opted to keep your wings and tail hidden as they would only get in the way.

“You’re asking the wrong questions, big boy,” you purred.

Eddie agreed as he took in your swollen breasts and thick thighs, your scary but intoxicating attributes, Eddie’s wet dream. He was but a stupid boy, mere human in the presence of a…you were… well Eddie had no idea but you were everything out of his wildest fantasy.

“I’m Eddie,” he introduced himself.

This made you giggle.

“I know you who you are Eddie” you purred again, slowly making your way towards his bed, your eyes locking in on what you needed from him most.

Eddie watched as your snake-like forked tongue licked your blackened lips, catching the white fangs that resembled that of a vampire’s.

“Why are you here?” Eddie spoke confidently.

“You want me to tell you? Or would you like me to show you?” You crawled onto the bed on all fours and hovered over the human. His wide eyes didn’t blink, and you moved above him. Your sharp pointed nail traced his alabaster skin on his cheekbones. A shiver ran through Eddie as this creature above him seduced him into submission.

“S-show me” he stammered.

“Good boy” you smiled showing your sharp teeth before taking his mouth on your own. Your leg swung over his hip to rest your naked pussy lips on top his already painfully hard length that was laying flat against his stomach.

A loud groan escaped Eddie’s throat as he moaned into your mouth. You rocked your hips over his cock only three times and before Eddie knew what he was happening, he was cumming.

“Oh my god oh my god” he was so embarrassed, how could this be happening?

“Mmmmm, that didn’t take long to get what I wanted.” You smirk before slinking down his body to collect the white hot cum that was leaking across his bare abdomen.

Eddie watched as your long wet tongue collected his seed, and he swore he was about to cum again just watching you enjoy yourself.

“I’m sorry I- I- I”

“Don’t worry big boy, l’ll be back for more” you wipe off the corner of your lip and walk back into your tiny portal without another word.

"Wait! What? Who?" Eddie stood up to chase after you but you're were gone.

What the fuck just happened? Eddie came from a make out and a dry hump and you, then you just disappeared?

-

The clock read 8:26am, causing confusion to Eddie, who was taken aback by how quickly time had passed. He wondered if he had dozed off and immediately awoken or had never been awake?

However, the only plausible explanation was that he must have had an exceptionally vivid dream. The kind of dream that felt real, right down to the last detail. The kind of dream that leaves you questioning what was real and what wasn't. Eddie couldn't shake off the feeling that he was still in the grips of that dream, and reality was just beyond his reach.

The whole day, Eddie couldn’t focus. His thoughts were all about you; he was consumed by you. Whatever you were?

Eddie had been gripped by a feverish obsession, unable to tear himself away from his room. He spent his days in a state of constant vigilance, scanning every corner and every shadow, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Each morning, as soon as he woke up, he would rush to the closet, tearing through the clothes in a frenzied search for any sign of your presence. He tore apart the shelves, looking for hidden doors, false walls, any clue that might lead him to you. But despite his tireless efforts, he found nothing, and his search continued without end. Everything was underwhelmingly ordinary.

Disappointment flooded Eddie as the hours passed, and you didn’t show up. But Eddie held onto hope that you would come back.

Wayne eventually started getting worried by day three when Eddie didn’t leave the room.

Three days and you weren’t back. He was held prisoner by his own thoughts and memories of you. He was convincing himself that it was just a vivid dream, but something in the back of his mind he knew was real.

He obsessively drew every exquisite detail of you, capturing every curve and line with care. He eagerly incorporated you into his Dungeons and Dragons campaigns, weaving your seduction into the magical world he had created.

As he worked to clean up the garage where he spent his days, he often found himself lost in thoughts of you, imagining your body and the sound of your voice. He couldn't resist the urge to doodle you on the workstations, bringing you to life in his own small way. He even started writing song lyrics about you, even though there was very little to go off of. It was like he couldn’t escape; you were a shadow holding him hostage. You were a whisper telling him he would never get away, and he didn’t want to.

You were now his whole world and he would do everything to try and get you back.

Eddie had been stranded in your world for three long weeks. He spent every night trying his best to stay awake, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. However, despite his best efforts, he would eventually succumb to sleep, and every morning, he would wake up feeling disappointed and frustrated.

The passing days seemed endless, and Eddie grew increasingly desperate to find a way back to his regular life. His friends noticed a change in him, he was adgitated, not wanting to talk to anyone, he only wanted you back.

Tonight was no different, Eddie watched and waiting for the light to guide him back to you. But he was exhausted, hardly getting any sleep for the past three weeks. He passed out on his bed extra early, not even seven in the evening and was out like a light.

3:33am. Eddie gasped awake like all the other times, he smelled the burnt out candel, the room temperature changed. Eddie stripped himself of all his clothing as quickly as possible and lay still, hoping and praying to whatever dark angel that you were to come to visit him once again.

The room's glow brightened as you passed through your realm to Eddie's. You could hear his heart pumping faster as you got closer. You missed your little toy, but your hunger had been satiated, and you wanted to be greedy; it was fun to tease this human.

"Did you miss me?" You ask as you step out of the portal.

"Yes," Eddie quickly answered, sitting up against the headboard.

"Good boy." You praised as you saw he was already hard for you, not that he had much choice.

"What are you?" Eddie bravely asks.

"I'm a succubus, isn't it obvious?" you cock your head.

"What's your name?" he questions as you approach the bed.

"Nice try, you're smart Eddie, you know I can't give you that." You sit on his lap like you had that first night.

"What can I call you then?" He watches you trail your sharp claws along his chest as you hypnotize Eddie with your beauty.

"Don't worry about that" you cup his chin in your dark crimson palm, tilting his head up to yours so you can taste his lips. No human before him had tasted quite like this. You've been around for thousands of years, but something was different about this one.

"What do you want?" Eddie pulled away breathlessly.

"For you to stop talking. I'm starving." Your forked tongue licked a wet strip up from Eddie's collarbone to his ear before Eddie spoke again.

"But I thought you said you were hungry?" he stupidly asked, like he was about to get you something from the kitchen.

"Exactly." you deadpaned. Annoyed that he was still questioning what was happening.

Oh.

Most men you find and haunt are more than ready and willing. You thought this one was. You watched him fro weeks waiting for your return, making sure he had become obsessed with you, and he had. But now he was prolonging his own pleasure, and you were getting hangry.

"I want your cock Eddie. Will you give it to me?" your saccharine voice pleaded as you ground your bare wet warm pussy over Eddie's cock.

Eddie found himself agreeing immediately without thinking about what that could mean.

"Good boy." You grip eddie's wrists, making sure not to scartch him with your claws before bringing his hands up your your full perked breasts. You flipped your long black hair over your shoulders exposing your nipples to the man benieth you.

"Holy shit," you hear him whimper under you.

"Oh, yes, Eddie, touch me" You fling your head back at the feeling of his hard cock graze against your clit, rocking your hips along his cock just like the last time.

This time, you may have placed a little spell on Eddie for him to last longer. You needed to have fun too, It has been too long and you were only a succubus after all, you can't help yourself.

"Oh my god youre so amazing" Eddie praised.

"We havn't even started yet, hunny" you cooed as you pressed his face into your breasts while still grinding your hips down on his shaft trying to chase your orgasm.

You stick your thin tongue in his mouth and explore his taste more. He was smoky just how you liked and earthy and a little minty.

Thank god your little spell worked because if you were on your brink of coming undone Eddie sure would’ve been long gone by now and your fun would have been over before it had started.

“Mmmmmmm Eddie you’re making me feel so good” you praised as his hands explored your body.

His calloused fingers graised your deep cherry skin, he timidly groped a fist full of your ass before you let out a moan of pleasure as his hands explored more of your body, tugging at the only piece of clothing you wore it slipped off effortlessly.

“More,” Eddie moaned into your mouth.

“You want me to sit on your face, pretty boy?” It was like you could read his mind… maybe you could.

You tuck his wild hair behind his ears before he excitedly nods his head yes before laying back for you.

“Anything for you” Eddie was at your mercy, all he wanted was to please you, to worship you, to have you, all of you.

“Mmmmmmm, my sweet, sweet boy,” you swing each knee around Eddie’s head so they are planted beside each ear.

Eddie wraps his hands around your plush thighs pulling your full weight onto his face and you don’t feeling an once of guilt about suffocating him. What a way to go.

Eddie couldn’t believe how you could taste so good, so sweet. It was a miracle he hadn’t come already, an act of god…or demon.

“Fuck you’re good at this for a human” you hummed as your pelvis grinds into on Eddie’s lips. His tongue was working wonders as it entered in and out of your tight hole. You were riding his face, and he was loving every minute of it.

Closer and closer and closer, you were feeling the waves of pleasure consume you, your orgasm gushing into Eddie’s tongue as he lapped at you like a wild animal who hadn’t seen water in weeks.

After a moment of taking in your bliss you sit up off Eddie’s face giving him a change to breathe.

You hear a gasp of air as your thighs unravelled from Eddie’s face. You look down to make sure you didn’t accidentally kill him but when you looked down his eyes told you he wasn’t experiencing anything but pure bliss.

He deserved a reward for pleasuring you so well so you crawl down his body to return the favour.

“Oh god!” Eddie cries as your serpent tongue forked around the head of his leaking cock.

“We don’t speak of him,” you pop back up fully serious.

“Nonononono I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Eddie pleaded reaching out for you before you could disappear, you forgave him. He didn’t know, he was a silly little human and you were still starving.

“I forgive you” and you do by showing him how your warm wet mouth could take all of thick cock. For a human he has the prefect sized cock for you. Not so small and you know it would fill and stretch you so good, you couldn’t wait.

Incoherent murmurs were leaving Eddie’s mouth as you bobbed, licked and lapped at his hard length.

“Fuck! Oh, baby! I'll never leave if you keep holding me this way…. Oh, shit, look what you’ve done to me…” Eddie didn’t even know he was speaking as he was so drunk over you. You could tell he was a blubbering disaster so close to coming. No matter how much magic you had over him, the power of an orgasm was always stronger.

“How do you want me, Eddie? Tell me”

“Don’t care” He shook his head no.

“You want me to ride you? You want to show me how man you are by having me under you? You want to fuck me so hard and fast my face will be imprinted into the mattress? You wanna stick it in my ass?” You trail your fingers down to your clit, getting wet again, just thinking about all the fun ways you could have with Eddie.

“All of the above!” Eddie grabs you to get closer to him, so he can kiss you. Everything within Eddie is telling him to ravage you.

“Don’t worry my pet, this won’t be the last time you see me, you taste too good to let go just yet” you twirl a tangled chocolate wave around your talon.

“Thank go-odnees” eddie stuttered and you smirk at your silly human before pushed him down, needing him now. Your hunger ravished you; it was taking over your control.

Eddie shuffles quickly before guiding your wide hips down over his weeping cock. He watches as your hot red pussy envelopes him like you were made for it. And you were. Your body can shape itself to be made for whoever you are with.

“Made f’me” Eddie moaned as your hot wet demon cunt slips over him, wrapping him in the most pleasure he has ever felt.

“You like my tight demon pussy baby?”

“Fuckin squeezing me so good!”

“You gunna let me milk your cock big boy?” your pussy flutters around his bare cock.

“Yes, fuck yes, please, I need to cum in you.”

“Stuff me full, baby!” You picked up the pace as you started bouncing up and down on his cock.

Eddie was hypnotized by the way your breasts bounced up and down as your magic was starting to wear off, the need for Eddie to cum was all consuming.

“Need your cum!” You cried as you throw yourself forwards to sink your fangs into Eddie’s neck as you broke the spell, his hot deep spurted up deep inside you.

As soon as his cum hit your cervix, your own orgasm unleashed, forcing you to cry out as your pussy fed. Your body suctioned up every last drop from Eddie, draining his cock dry.

“Holy shit” Eddie lay there, breathless even if you’ve done all the work.

“Good boy,” you sit up to go. You got what you came for.

“Don’t leave, I love you.”

“Oh my silly, silly boy” was the last thing you said before disappearing into thin air.

Eddie couldn’t believe what just happened. He lay in bed, drained in all aspects, for hours. He was dazed and confused and not in the way he usually was.

The only thing that broke him out of the haze was the knock at the door of Wayne asking him to help him out front of the yard.

Eddie's eyes flickered open, feeling disoriented and a little confused. He tried to brush off the strange interaction with you as if it were just a very vivid dream. He slowly exited the bed, stretched his arms and legs, and went to the bathroom. The cold tiles of the bathroom floor sent a shiver up his spine, but he couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that was lingering in his mind.

Eddie turned on the shower, letting the water cascade down on him, washing away the last remnants of sleep. He lathered up with soap and shampoo, taking his time to enjoy the warmth of the water. After he was done, he reached for his toothbrush and toothpaste, scrubbing his teeth clean until they gleamed.

As the steam cleared from the mirror, Eddie glanced up and froze. There, on his neck, were two small puncture holes that he couldn't explain. It was the only evidence that last night had actually happened.

He belonged to you, his Dark Angel.

Tags: @seexyyprincess @xxbimbobunnyxx @voyeurmunson @impmunson @mayaluvzyou @quinn-munson @ali-r3n @tlclick73 @thepurplelovewitch @asimpforthe80s @stretchedoutonthegrass @starksbabie @ghost-proofbaby @goosterroose @thewayitalknj @hellfirehottie420 @peachysink @lofaewrites @catherinnn @dirtyhellfireclub @hereforshmut @lovinnscarletknight @basicanti-socialb-tch @hsllfirescoops @munsonsbtch @douxiesaurus @taintedcigs @splendiferous-bitch @florabells @thorfemmes @dirtyhellfireclub @remuslupingf @mouthfullofmunson @oneforthemunny @fallenxcherub @lolzskye @bamquinn @seductiveplumber-blog @yourlittleangel7777 @lesservillain @cuddle-calum-luke @munsonology @lizzylynch1 @american-idiot-jpg @take-everything-you-can @gravedigginbbydoll @purplehazed-h @corrodedcorpses @penguinsandpotterheads @urhoneycombwitch @allthingsjoeq

[chaoticloving]

18

harry styles x reader

warnings: mentions of sex

summary: y/n tries to take a pregnancy test without harry finding out, but of course, he does.

a/n: not trying to speak it into existence but lowkey one of my fave tropes is pregnancy scares 😭 i’ve been dying to write this

Harry was leaving in nine days.

Nine days until her boyfriend leaves for his first world tour. And at this moment, while Harry was out in last minute rehearsal, Y/n was sitting on her bed, looking at the ceiling, wondering why the hell she hasn't had her period yet.

Pregnancy was the first thing that crossed her mind. How could it not be?

A part of her doesn't want to ever take a pregnancy test. She doesn't want it to be real. She can't be pregnant at 18, and she knew Harry shouldn't be a dad at 18 too. So would she even tell Harry is she was pregnant?

She was heavily considering it, accept the fact she's pregnant and not telling the father, who will forever be her love.

Y/n and Harry met in secondary school and the relationship bloomed from there. And when the couple found out that the One direction tour was set in stone, they were scared to be apart from one another, so it was about a month after the announcement that they decided to loose their virginities to each other. Of course before this they had already done some things, they just realized that they wanted to do it, soon, before they were apart for several months.

From there they fucked like rabbits. The love shared between them, along with the knew found pleasure, fueled their excessivness. And, now that Y/n was thinking about it, it is more than likley that Harry forgot a condom some time.

"Fuck." Y/n groaned, turning around on her bed. She looked on her bedside table and saw that she had less than an hour until Harry should be back at the hotel they were sharing in central London.

She got up, grabbed her bag, and sprinted out of the hotel room. When she entered the elevator and the doors closed, the weight of what she was doing finally landed on her.

Would she tell Harry? She couldn't. Harry shouldn't be tied down like this at 18. And his carrer, taking off! He wouldn't even have time to care for a child, not the way a parent should.

A small part of her remembered the pre-x-factor days, where Harry told her he would like to be a dad. He said he wasn't ready yet, then at 16, but he wanted to help create a happy home.

But he's not ready yet, and quite frankly, neither is Y/n.

The doors open and she sprints out the hotel lobby, hood up and sun glasses so no one gets a sneaky picture of Harry Styles rumored girlfriend getting a pregnacy test.

She went to the nearest Tesco, grabbed a congradulations card along with the test just so the cashire wouldnt be as judgy.

In less then twenty mintues, she was sitting on the toilet seat, waiting for the five minutes to be up. She didn't notice the tears forming in her eyes, scared for the future. One without Harry.

"Hey babe!" Harrys voice echoed throughout the hotel room. Y/n jumped up and grabbed her test, putting it in her pocket, and grabbing her phone.

Y/n put on a smile, leaving the bathroom like she was doing the walk of shame. "Hey."

"You alright? You look teary-"

Y/n's alarm went off, making Y/n jump and rushed into her pocket to get her phone out to turn it off, but when she put the phone back in her pocket, the test fell out.

Harry and Y/n just stood there for a couple of seconds looking first at the blue test and then they met each others eyes. Y/n's had tears in them, now trickling down her face; Harry's, though, were confused. His eyebrows were scrunched and anyone could see this mind working to understand what that test is, and what it means.

Y/n raced down to get it, to know what the results were, but Harry's reflexes were quicker. He grabbed the test and saw the little screen.

"What." He paused, taking a deep breath. "What does a minus sign mean?"

Y/n started crying. Not happy tears, but not sad. Harry wrapped his arms around his love.

“Hey, hey it’s okay.” Harry cooed. He tried his best to remain calm, but he saw his life flash before his eyes when he saw that stick—he couldn’t deny that he was feeling uneasy himself. “How long where you thinking that you, we, were—“

His voice trailed off, not sure if he wants to say it.

“I dunno, few days?” She guessed, sniffling a bit and clutching the test that was now in her hands. “I didn’t want to say anything…”

“You should, you always can.” Harry assured. “I mean, I can’t believe you thought you were pregnant and I just left to rehearsal like nothing was the matter!” His raised tone was at himself, angry he didn’t notice something was up.

“Don’t say that.” Y/n sighed.

They were holding each other for a bit which only ment Y/n could think of what happened in the past few minutes.

“H, can I admit something?”

Her voice was soft, more together, but still had a death grip on Harry’s arm.

“Always.”

“If the stick was positive, and I was pregnant.” She paused, not sure if she wanted to tell him. “I couldn’t…make you a father at 18.”

“Love you know I support any of your choices-“

“No, not like that.”Harry gulped, unsure of the next words out of his girlfriends mouth. “I don’t want to hold you back from who you can be. And I think this scare was a wake up call. You need to find out who you are-“

“But I do know.” Harry interrupted. “I love being with you. A baby wouldn’t change that even at 18. If I’m understanding what you’re saying, I’d look for you, and the baby.

“I am not Harry Styles without you.”

“H.” Her voice trailed off and she gave him a quick kiss before tightening their hold on one another. “Even with all it the fame?”

“When I have sold out tours, I’ll always be looking for you in the crowd.”

[lilystyles]

wildest dreams.

part two of style, written by @lilystyles

my masterlist & style masterlist

authors note the very requested part two of style. i got lots of asks & reblogs & comments asking for more of style!H so i decided to write one for y'all. thanks for all the love on it. also there was one ask i got with the idea of y/n going on a blind date and i LOVED it so thank u anon 🩷

brief description y/n and harry start to see each other more and more. but it's a secret, things get complicated when emma sets y/n up on a blind date. harry doesn’t like it one bit.

warnings! slight age gap, SMUT (f!receiving, fingering, daddy kink, missionary, riding, very slight breeding kink, no condom, all the good stuff) sexual tension, mentions of drugs&alcohol abuse. wordcount: (around 15k words)

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

* * * * *

Harry arrived at Y/n’s massive and buzzing share house almost twenty minutes before eight.

He’d parked his car nearby and quietly realised to himself on the walk up the driveway that he’d never actually been inside the sharehouse before. He had dropped her off a fair few times and picked her up a handful from here but Y/n preferred to come stay at his place. He couldn’t blame her, Niall’s place was similar he lived in one of the frats nearby campus. His room and the house were disgusting and Harry much preferred his clean quiet house with his sister. Even though Harry was in a frat too, he lived out of the house. The only reason those guys had welcomed him into the frat in the first place was because he was on the Uni soccer team and he was really good. His room was turned into a storage room for alcohol, dartboards, and bongs. Harry had hooked up with a few girls in there regardless of the lack of bed.

He felt a funny feeling in his tummy walking up the driveway, since when did he get nervous? He’d been with so many people he didn’t think that existed for him anymore. But this was different, this wasn’t just anyone this was Y/n. His Y/n. The girl from home.

He looked up at the house biting his lip, Y/n’s place certainly wasn’t as trashy as Alpha Chi Sigma, thankfully. Hers was a little ways off campus it was this old run-down brick house with two stories and eight rooms. It was jam-packed with students and actually threw quite a few parties, known on campus for its great big backyard and one of Y/n’s roommate Mike's weed brownies. Y/n didn’t care all that much when parties happened, she’d either invite Emma and they’d have lots of tequila and end up asleep in Y/n’s room, or she might even invite Harry and his mates too just for fun. Otherwise she just locked her room and escaped to the library or the Styles’ place. 

As Harry reached the big red door he knocked loudly and a short girl opened the door before his knuckles had even retracted back to his side. He recognised her from his Economics class, he thought. She was in some pyjamas and looked up very confused.

“You're not the Chinese guy.” She said eyeing him annoyedly, groans escaped the mouths of others inside, and he could understand their disappointment. “Who are you?”

This made Harry feel suddenly rather guilty for not being the Chinese delivery guy and he frowned, “I’m Harry, ‘m a friend of Y/n’s?”

“Upstairs third door to your left.” She said shortly opening the door wide enough to let him in before promptly sitting back down on the couch with a bunch of other students, they were watching what looked like a Japanese horror film. 

Harry shut the door behind him and made his way upstairs quickly, Y/n’s roommates didn’t seem all that friendly, he hoped was going in the right direction. As he reached the top of the stairs he heard music coming from one room that sounded like a rave and knew that definitely wasn’t Y/n’s room, he heard people chatting away in another, and when he was at the third door he saw a small sign on the door that said ‘Y/n’s Room <3’. He smiled at the familiar neat handwriting that was on so many birthday cards in his collection, and knocked on the door, with a few quick taps.

He heard some shuffling behind the door and it wasn’t long before the door swung open. There she was, his Y/n. Even though he’d only seen her a few hours ago it felt like a long time ago now. How did he already miss her?

“You're here early, Styles.” She said surprised checking the time on her phone in her hand. Harry didn’t seem the type to show up early, and normally he didn’t Y/n knew that about him from years of experience. He was even late to his own birthday parties and if you asked a single person who had hooked up with him they’d say he was always late when they invited him over. Just his way. He wasn’t a timely person.

Harry smiled down at her form, she looked much more rested than this morning. She had taken a nap for a good portion of the morning and a long shower cleaning every inch of herself, she felt very rejuvenated now. The warm water had soothed her aching muscles and small bruises that littered her body from last night. She’d washed off all the sweat and alcohol that had sweated out of her this morning, and her hangover had eased, thank god. She had taken some aspirin for her head too and drank lots and lots of water. 

She looked so soft and cosy, the golden light of her room hit her face, showing all the angles of her calm expression. She was wearing this matching tracksuit set that was a blue almost grey colour, and some fuzzy pink socks Emma bought her for Christmas last year. Her hair was freshly washed, dried, and styled in her usual way. Her beautiful face was bare of makeup only some moisturiser that smelt really good, and her lips were covered in a glossy lip balm.

“Wanted to make a good impression, Babe.” He said smirking. 

Y/n let him join her inside shaking her head, it was very unlike him to be on time and she’d expected he would arrive around 8:30 instead of 8. He placed his bag of snacks and DVDs down onto her little bed taking in the space. 

Her room was so her, she had this big mattress on the floor that took up most of her room. Her sheets were mismatched shades of pink, blue, and lavender and she had about a dozen pillows. She had lots of fairy lights strung up, posters, and photos covering her walls. Her mattress and little desk by her window near the back of the room took up most of the small space. But if she had picked a bigger room that meant having a roommate so she didn’t mind all that much.

It was quite neat in here. She had all her desk organised with her laptop and textbooks. Her cupboard had somehow miraculously shut despite the large array of clothes stuffing it. She had a candle burning that smelt like cinnamon cookies, but underneath the candle was the underlying smell of her. Whether that was her laundry detergent or something that was just her, Harry didn’t know, but the smell brought him great comfort.

He shrugged off his big thick coat too, the day had turned into a windy-rainy one and he wanted to stay warm, but Y/n’s room was very warm inside. He was in an ashen grey hoodie with red flannel over the top, some black jeans and sneakers. His hair was unruly as always but he looked extra good today. He made himself comfortable on the bed grabbing a pink bear and cuddling it to his chest playfully. He dwarfed her bed with his tall form, and he looked so funny sitting in her bed. Harry Styles, sex god, player, and party animal, with a rotten attitude, was curled up in her bed. She almost wanted to take a picture to show people, but she knew she wouldn’t be telling a soul about him being with her tonight.

“I’ve known you for years I already have all the impressions needed, Harry.”

He looked over at her from her bed. “Yeah, but you’ve never seen me on a date before, have yeh? I can be wholesome.”

What? This is a date? 

Y/n blushed deeply, if she’d known that this was a date she would have dressed a bit nicer. She was just in some joggers and a hoodie, but to be fair to her they were her nice ones. The ones lacking ice cream stains and holes. Harry had seen her looking like a hungover mess, he’d seen her in the middle of the night at the library, he’d seen her with the flu, and she never looked bad even at her worst.

“This is a date?” She asked looking down at her sock-covered feet.

She’d been dreaming of this day since she was a kid when Harry had helped her when she fell off her bike and scraped her knee. She still remembered the day vividly, it was something she thought of every time they all went home to Holmes Chapel for the holidays or summertime, and they drove passed the playground. She still had the scar their on her right knee, even now. And she remembers Harry putting the bandaid on for her and kissing her knee to ‘take the pain away’. Every time she felt the little bump or saw the lighter patch of skin on her knee she thought of him kissing it. She’d stopped crying after he’d done that and from that day on, her heart belonged to him. 

She thought if they ever did somehow end up together on a date, that’d he would take her for a drive or they’d go to the cinema. Something normal. Maybe even a romantic stroll somewhere or something wild like skinny dipping. But instead here he was in her room making himself at home in her little bed where she’d spent hours thinking of him; before her eyes finally allowed her to sleep.

He laughed at her shy expression, patting a spot on the bed beside him for her to sit. “Wasn’t I obvious about that?”

She sat down beside him, laughing at herself she didn’t know much when it came to dating, she’d only had two or so boyfriends. She’d tried the one-night stand thing once but it wasn’t for her. She didn’t know dating etiquette. So she was all stiff beside him now feeling even more nervous than before he’d arrived. This whole thing with Harry frankly didn’t feel real, she’d liked him for so many years and only now was he starting to show similar feelings toward her, it honestly tripped her out a lot. It would be like your celebrity crush showing up at your door with flowers, a bit of a dream, right?

“Not to me.” She said looking at him. He smelt deliciously good beside her, and she wanted to devour him.

He looked over at her with the same eyes he’d given her in the kitchen when she’d comforted him, all soft and molten like an ice cream on a hot day. As he lifted his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, she leaned into his touch, his hand was so warm and smooth against her face. He was so gentle with her and she felt her mind flashback to last night for what felt like the millionth time when his hands were all over her body. Though they’d been a bit wild, he was always gentle with her unless she asked him otherwise.

“Well I’m sorry, but this is a date, is that alright with you?” He asked, nibbling his bottom lip to contain a smile. She was just so cute, sitting there in front of him like a doe-eyed little thing. You’d have thought that she barely knew him with how she was acting.

She nodded. “Fine by me.” 

“Good to hear, Baby.” He sighed at her because she still seemed very nervous. He didn’t know how to comfort her other than touch. “Why are you so far away? You know I don’t bite, not unless you ask me to.”

She looked over at him, “I’m just nervous, I guess. If my fourteen-year-old self could see me now…”

She didn’t finish her sentence.

This made his heart swell. “You're nervous around me? Even after everything we did last night?”

She shrugged like that was an obvious conclusion. “Well, yeah…of course.”

This made him throw his head back laughing, like a little kid. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous too. S’okay to be nervous. But don’t worry it’s just me. Nothing special.”

That made her feel better, she looked up at him, a smile cracking on her face. “You're nervous too?”

He nodded. “Of course I am. I’m on a date with a gorgeous girl, I’d be a fool not to be.”

Y/n pecked his cheek in response, her lips smearing against the tiny stubble on his cheek, as she quickly moved away and opened the bag excitedly to see the things he’d brought. He brought snacks as requested all their favourites (peanut M&Ms, popcorn, and a tub of Ben & Jerry’s) along with a few DVDs. The one he had been raving about was in there and she grabbed it putting it on the very small telly she had by the end of her bed.

Harry explained a story about how he went to three different grocery shops to find the peanut M&Ms because apparently, the world was in a shortage today. This made Y/n want to kiss him because he’d gone to all that effort knowing Y/n’s favourite movie snack was M&Ms. Whenever they went to the cinema she always got them, and the three of them would go a fair amount. They loved going late at night and talking loudly in empty cinemas about how cheesy the films were. 

She looked at him from the edge of the bed. He’d kicked his sneakers off into the corner and he was resting on her bed, head lying on her pillow, a knitted blanket over his lap. He looked very comfy and at ease, and honestly, he was. The smell of her bed was comforting and the soft tone of her voice was soothing. Y/n had a way of driving him crazy, usually when her attention wasn’t on him, but a way of calming him instantly when their eyes met.

“You hungry? I want pizza.” She asked brows pinched in thought.

He nodded grabbing his phone to call them. “Sure. Joeys?”

“I think I want a ha—”

“Hawaiin with no pineapple, I know, you freak. Who doesn’t like pineapple?”

“Me.” She said. She’d never really noticed how observant Harry was until now. He knew her pizza order, he knew she liked peanut M&Ms, he knew her chamomile tea brand, and he knew she liked popcorn extra buttery. Which happens when you have history like they do, but she never thought he cared that much. So what if she knew he liked pepperoni with extra spice? She was obsessed with him for most of her adolescence, that made sense. But why did Harry know that? She was the obsessed one.

“Hey mate, yeah can I get a large Hawaiin no pineapple please, and large pepperoni extra spicy, and a loaf of garlic bread too thanks.” He said into the phone. 

Y/n told Harry her address in a hushed tone and he parroted it to the pizza guy on the phone. The pizza would arrive in 20 minutes from now, so Y/n joined his side happily and hit play on the telly. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder so she could rest against his side, and it all felt very domestic. Her cheek was resting against him and she felt her eyes drooping even though she’d already napped today.

Y/n normally cuddled with Emma and watched movies on her shoulder while Harry brooded on the leather recliner and complained when the girls picked a rom-com of some kind. But she saw him cry during The Notebook last month. He always said Spiderman was his favourite movie but she knew it was actually The Notebook.

She felt guilty at the thought of her best friend, and a pang in her tummy. Normally if a guy had even made eye contact with her Y/n was blowing up her phone with every detail, that’s what best friends are for. But she couldn’t tell her about Harry. They’d stop being friends. Emma and Y/n had many friends who had come and gone because of Harry, she didn’t blame any of them for shagging him. He’s always been attractive and shaggable, but she knew better than to get with him then and she didn’t know what had done it but lately, he’d just been irresistible last night and right now. 

Maybe back then she just had more self-control. Y/n remembers a girl named Cami the most. She and Harry hooked up once drunkenly at a party Gemma had thrown while Anne and Robin were away and the next morning Emma and Y/n walked in on her giving him a blowie. Cami was then banned from any other sleepover. Which was a shame because Cami was super nice, it made Y/n wonder if those years of friendship protected her from Emma’s harsh banishment or if that didn’t count. 

“What are you thinkin’ about?” He asked her playing with the strands of loose hair resting against his arm.

She looked up at him away from the telly she’d zoned out on. “I- Em.” She said.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I knew it would be something you’d be thinking about.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I just- she’s gonna hate me, H. I want you, but you know I can’t.”

Harry knew Emma was Y/n’s number one person and they were basically like sisters, Y/n was a part of his family, though he’d never seen her in a particularly brotherly way. She came on holidays overseas with them, she was invited to family dinners, and they’d even had a Christmas Eve together a few times in the past couple of years. And that wasn’t something he would ever try and get in the way of, Y/n being there was what made him want to attend. Because he loved that Y/n was a part of his life in that way and he’d grown up with her, he loved having her around. He cherished those moments and even though he didn’t act like it, he would miss her when she wasn’t there. Last Christmas Eve she was with her Grandparents and he’d hated playing Scrabble without her.

She had no idea of any of his true feelings. Which was his own fault, he knew that, he was purposefully rude to Y/n to keep her at arm's length, and acting like she didn’t exist to try and suffocate his feelings from her. Emma was behind that, ever since he could remember he wasn’t allowed to share Y/n. Emma was always reminding him when his eyes lingered on her longer than they should, that Y/n was Emma’s best friend, off limits. And despite how he felt about her he’d listened to keep Y/n out of the drama of Emma’s wrath. 

But Harry cared for Y/n very deeply and he wished Emma wasn’t so weird about it. Why couldn’t they both just share her? And anyway, it was Y/n’s decision, not Emma’s. She wasn't a toy she was a person, who made her own decisions whether or not Emma approved. Normally Emma’s judgement was the only thing Y/n needed to make a decision, but when it came to Harry she had to disagree.

And anyway, she seemed pretty happy to be wrapped up in his arms right now, despite knowing what trouble it would cause if anyone found out. She knew it was wrong to lie, and hide, but she didn't think it was wrong be around Harry. That's what felt right.

“I know she doesn’t like people getting involved with me.” He began, “But that’s only because they always get hurt by me and it becomes a whole thing. But I would never hurt you.”

His reassuring words made her feel better but she looked up at him, with one more worry. “How is this any different than you and Cami, Lacey, or Tiffany—” She was about to continue her long list of girls but he cut her off.

“Because you're the only one for me.”

Y/n was about to ask him what he meant by that but the doorbell rang. “That’s probably pizza.” 

She sat up and left before he could say anything else. 

She was happy to be with him and she enjoyed his company and his cuddles but this whole thing scared her a lot. There were a lot of risks in going down this path with him and she was painfully aware of all the risks, she knew every single one and the reason she hadn’t gotten with him before now was because she knew it was dangerous for her to get involved with such a gorgeous devilish creature. 

Don’t get her wrong she trusted Harry with her life. But that doesn’t mean she trusted him when it came to his relationships. He’d never had a girlfriend, all the girls thought they were his girlfriends but he never saw any of them as more than a shag. Which is fine, but she knew she couldn’t be satisfied with just a shag. Her heart was too soft for that boy to only want his dick.

When Y/n came back with the warm pizzas burning her hands Harry was sleepily cuddling her bear in bed and she felt her heart melt and let her thoughts melt away too. They ate the pizza in bed and all worries were washed away as they distracted themselves with Y/n’s favourite film. When Harry Met Sally. 

Harry remembered the countless times this movie was on at midnight when he came downstairs to see Y/n asleep on his couch using it to tune out Emma’s snores.

Her eyes stung with sleep as she watched tonight, it comforted her, and the smell of Harry and the gentle sound of his heartbeat lulled her to sleep. She fell asleep quickly into the movie and Harry only noticed when he was getting no replies from her during his complaints about how cheesy and unrealistic this movie was. When he realised she was asleep right there on his chest he stopped talking and moving; wanting to let her sleep there. He grabbed the knitted blanket from the bottom of their legs and brought it to just below her chin. 

Kissing her forehead before focusing back on the movie. He thought Meg Ryan was pretty fit and the gentle breathing of Y/n was calming, it wasn’t long until he fell asleep too holding her very close to him. Not a worry about being caught, or oversleeping, just enjoyed the warmth of her body and the soft breaths that hit his neck.

It was a couple weeks later until Harry saw Y/n again and he hated to admit it to himself that he missed her, more than he’d ever missed anyone and it had just been a few days. She wasn't even his girlfriend, and she was already driving him up the wall.

She’d called him that afternoon and it brought out something in Harry he’d never expected to find within himself.

Harry was not a jealous person. He wasn’t possessive at all. Never had been and he never thought he would be. It just wasn’t who he was. He always thought it was because he just never had those feelings within him, he just didn’t care. He thought jealousy was stupid. What good came from it? Jealousy never accomplished anything.

He didn’t care if the people he’d been with had moved on or gotten with someone else, one time a girl he’d had a bit of a fling with for the Summer ended up hooking up with his best friend and he truly didn’t care. Like at all. They expected him to get angry, shout, or stop talking to them at least. But he didn’t he just shrugged and said something about how he understood. He found someone else to spend the night with quickly after their conversation, and when someone brought it up he completely forgot it had even happened, which shows how little he cared.

He just never got jealous, and it was something he felt was beneath him. Since he saw sex as such a casual and easygoing thing to him, he felt like he belonged to everyone and no one all at once and so he saw people as all the same. It was all just a blur of people and feelings. He was lucky, he never got sad after sex or disgusted he just felt a release, left, and that was that. He didn’t like to chat all that much, he was a fuck and leave kind of guy. If the person really needed a cuddle or some aftercare he wouldn’t just leave right away but he knew cuddling usually meant feelings growing, so he tried to avoid that at all costs too. Which to some was just awful to be around, and he could understand that too. Sometimes people wanted a connection that wasn’t just compatible kinks or sexual chemistry. Something deeper, love, burning lust, tenderness. That’s not to say Harry wasn’t a good lover, he was great no matter the person he could click well with them. He made them feel like they were the only two people in the world, but there was still a bit of a shadow to his love-making that made the people know that’s all it was.

Just a fuck, just a kiss, just an orgasm. Nothing more, nothing less.

He’d heard or read about people having sex that felt like fireworks or magic or something ridiculous and sappy and he’d thought it was all blown out of proportion. Sex was more primal and animalistic to Harry. It wasn’t something otherworldly. It was like eating, sleeping, or breathing. It was just a natural human experience and urge, and people needed it to survive a healthy life. It wasn’t tied to any emotions, just like eating a sandwich at lunch. Wasn’t anything to be ashamed of either.

And it certainly wasn’t ethereal, or at least it wasn’t until Y/n.

He hadn’t felt so connected with someone like that ever. In conversation, in sex, in life. She understood him, she accepted him, and despite their differences, it worked. And god, when they had sex it was just so time-stopping. Touching her was like touching heaven.

His jealousy, his attraction, made him realise he liked her. Like actually liked her, and that if this was what liking someone was that meant he never had before. He’d never liked anyone except her. 

He’d never wanted to date someone, take care of them, and be with them without having to do anything. Just be together, you know?

Harry wanted to date Y/n, take care of her, and just be with her. The unfamiliar feelings rolled through his skin like a tidal wave. All these feelings were new to him, and it meant he didn’t know how to act. It was overwhelming and he didn’t know who to confide in.

Because now all of a sudden he was a jealous person? It just didn’t make sense. None of it did. 

When he found out Emma had set Y/n up on a double date with her and Zayn, Harry was not one bit okay with it. He couldn’t have cared less if someone he’d been with fucked his best friend in front of him, but the idea of someone thinking they could talk to Y/n made his skin crawl. Someone getting to touch her like she’d let him, someone getting to kiss her sweet lips, whisper filth in her ear? He hated it. He hated the thought. 

Jealousy burned his skin like wildfire and he didn’t know what to do. He knew Y/n wasn’t his girlfriend, but they’d been on a date now which meant more to him than any other interaction with any girl he’d ever had. It had been a perfect first date that eventually led to her falling asleep in his arms and him playing with her hair as he memorised every freckle on her face. They both woke up the next morning with a giggle and she walked him to his car her hand in his, and to his surprise kissed him against the hood of his car. It was enough to have him dazed and wanting more, her lips smeared against his excitedly with an innocent giggle. When she pulled away she whispered a breathless goodbye and he hadn’t seen her since.

They’d called a few times and chatted until the early hours of the morning about anything and everything, and he’d seen her at his house a few times. But he wasn’t allowed to act how he wished because Emma was always there, he’d always call Y/n when she was home complaining about how he wished things were different. But since neither of them knew what was going on yet they knew it was best to not tell her.

Y/n didn’t want to go on this double date. She couldn’t think of anything worse. Zayn’s friend Peter was a notorious prick on campus. He was just straight-up horrible and so jarring on the senses. They’d met here and there and Niall hated him too which was enough for Y/n to know everything she needed about the bloke.

Y/n was pretty sure no one liked him, not even Zayn. But Y/n agreed for Emma’s sake. She knew Emma really liked Zayn (or so she said) and this was one of ‘the only ways their date would happen’. But that didn’t make her not want to go any less. She called Harry as soon as Emma left her place to get ready. 

He answered on the third ring.

“Hi, Baby.”

She could practically hear his smile. Things were going well for them. She thought the shift from whatever they once were to this would be awkward but it was easy. They were still teasing, and rude, but the words hardly had any edge anymore. Even when she swore at him it felt like a kiss and now when he stared at her Y/n noticed the softness in his eyes. Had that always been there?

“Hey, Styles.”

He sighed softly sitting down on his couch, “And to what do I owe this pleasure, Y/n?”

“Some bad news.”

He sucked a breath, “What’s wrong?” His voice melted into her spine, and he sounded worried. He was thinking the worst, and though this was pretty shitty it was nothing like he was thinking. He hoped she was okay.

“You know I like you, right?”

He nodded but forgot she couldn’t see. “Yes, I like you too, what is it?”

“I’m sorry, H, but I didn’t know how to say no without blowing our cover…” She said avoiding saying it. She didn’t know how he would react. He’d been so lovely, she didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“Spit it out, Trouble.” He said.

“Emma begged me to go on a double date so she could be with Zayn.” She said pinching her eyes shut and practically wincing on the other line.

“And what did you say?”

“I said yes, I’m sorry,”

Harry felt a pang of jealousy rush into his chest unfamiliarly. But he didn’t want to make her feel bad. He knew she hadn’t meant to hurt him. She sounded so guilty over the line, he was just glad she couldn’t see him. He was embarrassingly jealous. He felt winded as his hand moved up to his chest, squeezing where the pain was. Normally he always knew the right things to say, but he struggled to find the words. He was just pissed.

Emma, totally got in the way time and time again. It’s like she was out to sabotage them. He wanted to tell her off, but he knew better. Y/n would be mad if he did that.

“It’s fine, we only went on one date.” He said, but it didn’t come out like he wanted. He wanted to sound aloof and fine. But his voice came out forced.

Y/n sighed, he was right they had only been on one date. But she felt that it had meant more to her than any other dates she’d been on. And she was sure it would mean way more than this stupid date. “I know. But I wanted to tell you that I don’t like Peter. I hate that guy actually, he’s a fuckin’ prick….” 

Harry despised Peter. Even more now. He got to be with Y/n all pretty in public on a date, Harry knew no one would treat her as well as he could. Harry knew what she wanted. What did Peter know?

“...But Emma asked me. And if I’d have said I was seeing someone else, involved in something serious, she would have drilled me like a Russian spy. You know that it’s very surprising for me to be seeing someone, she wouldn’t have let it go.”

Something serious. His heart swelled despite it all.

Harry let out a small laugh, “It’s okay, Y/n, really.”

“I don’t want to go, but it’s only for a few hours. Can I call you after?”

This made him smile, despite how pissed he was she was so cute. “Yeah, ‘course.”

“Okay, good, well I have to get ready, Styles, talk soon.” She said.

“Bye, Trouble” He hung up and his hands itched to do something. But he knew he couldn’t do anything he’d just have to wait for her call. The whole thing made him antsy. 

Just as he hung up Emma walked through the front door. She was holding some shopping bags.

“What are you up to?” He asked. They looked like clothes and shoes.

She looked over with a smile. “Me and Y/n have a double date.”

He acted surprised standing up, “Oh yeah? With who?”

“Zayn and Peter.” She said walking to her room and Harry followed, wanting to know more details he’d been too afraid to ask Y/n.

“When?”

“Tonight, at seven,” Emma replied quickly hands looking through her racks of dresses, eyes far from Harry who had sat himself on her bed.

“Where?” He prodded.

She looked over, “What is this? 21 questions? Why do you care?”

“I’m not allowed to be interested in your life? Gosh, forgive me caring, Em.”

She rolled her eyes. “I thought we’d grown out of the protective thing?”

“I just worry about you two. Boys are pigs.”

Emma sighed. “You would know.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“We’ll be fine. It’s just at Andy’s Burgers. It’s super close to Y/n’s place. And your friends with those guys, you know they aren’t serial killers.”

His lips curled in disgust as his jaw clenched and defended himself. “Zayn is fine. Peter is not my friend at all. I hate him. He’s such a stupid twat. I don’t understand why would Y/n go out with him.”

Emma turned around her hands landing on her hips. “Because he’s hot and he’s supposed to have a big dick.”

This made Harry’s jaw clench hard. Peter better not try anything with Y/n, or he’d rip that dick off. “Why would Y/n care about something like that? Doesn’t she like guys with actual brain cells? Doesn't sound like her.”

Emma squinted, her brows pinching. “Like who, mate? It really is none of your business, Harry, we don’t question your awful taste. Anyway, I don’t see why you care? Y/n can get with whoever she wants.”

This made Harry’s stomach curl. No, she couldn’t. She could only be with him. He wanted her all to himself. No one was worthy of her, not even himself, but at least Y/n wanted him. She didn’t want Peter. She’d just told him he was a prick, she couldn’t want him.

Harry didn’t want anyone else, and he’d turned down a plethora of women and men since that night with Y/n in his bed. He’d avoided telling her that, to avoid upsetting her. He sat up, annoyed and beginning to feel his mind go on a loop of bad thoughts of Y/n with other people. Y/n kissing another boy. God, it made him feral with rage.

He shook himself out of the images pooling in his mind. “Whatever, I’m going to Niall’s. If you need me call me. Don’t let them drive you home if they’re drunk or summat.”

She nodded. “Thanks, H.”

He nodded getting up and leaving. “Bye, Em.”

“Catch ya.” She said. 

Harry grabbed his phone, wallet, and keys and left. He was gonna blow off some steam with Niall. Anything to get his mind off Y/n sitting pretty beside that dickhead ginger Peter. Thoughts of Y/n drifted to the back of his mind as he played Mario Kart with Niall and talked shit about Niall’s new boyfriend Paddy, Niall met his mates last night and they’d been proper twats to him and Paddy tried to gaslight him later on when they got back to his flat. Niall ended up leaving in a fit of rage. Harry tried his best at giving advice, he wanted to confide in Niall about this whole Y/n thing but he knew it could blow up in his face. Not that he didn't trust Niall to keep it hushed.

Y/n’s thoughts however were on only Harry, she would do anything to be on a date with him right now. They could be sharing a milkshake and talking about music or their days, honestly with Harry she would be happy to watch paint dry, his company made anything infinitely better. He was fun, he was cheeky, and she could be herself.

But no, she wasn’t with Harry, she wasn’t having fun at all. And she could hardly be her normal self one bit. She had to be quiet and polite when all she wanted to do was roll her eyes and spit out what a dickhead this boy sitting in front of her was.

She was sat beside the stupid prick Peter sipping down this actually quite delicious peanut butter & chocolate shake that was new on the menu and munching on some fries to keep her lips and hands busy while he talked her ear off. She loved the food here. She and Emma came here all the time to study and eat their body weight in their fries which have this great chicken and spicy salt flavouring on.

She just wanted the date to be over. He was so dull. The only thing he’d talked about the entire date for the past hour was him. His father’s business, how he could’ve had a career in Hockey if he didn’t injure his knee in his final year of school, and then making jokes about his ‘big’ dick and laughing like the complete and utter Tory he was. Which Y/n knew was a load of crap because one time he’d sent it to Emma during their first year of Uni and it wasn’t horrible but it certainly wasn’t some magical penis like he was saying.

Even just by looking at his face, you could tell he had no idea where the clitoris was. (Harry knew where it was blindfolded and you could just by the cocky look on his gorgeous face).

Y/n honestly thought it would’ve been less painful to slam her head between a door repeatedly. Zayn and Emma were hitting it off from the other side of the booth. They were leaning in closer, giggling, flirting. She was happy for Emma, really she was, but she didn’t see why she or Peter had to come. They added nothing to this date.

She was thankful when dinner arrived, it meant the date was almost over. She dove into her burger eating quickly so she could make an excuse to not talk or look at Peter. She hoped if she finished quickly the date could end quickly too.

“Are you girls going to that party on Saturday?” Asked Zayn taking a sip of his strawberry shake.

Emma looked at Y/n swallowing her mouthful of cheesy fries. “That’s the one at Harry’s Frat. Niall’s idea.”

Y/n nodded, she’d only go if Harry did or Emma really wanted her there. “Oh, dunno. Maybe.”

Emma smiled. “It sounds fun. I love costume parties.”

Y/n sipped on her shake and looked down at her lap her phone had a message from Harry on it. She’d check when no one was looking. She thought it was cute that he was checking on her.

“Hate those guys though. So cocky.”

Y/n looked up and without thinking scoffed, staring him down. “Who Harry and Niall?”

Peter looked over. “Yeah. Think their god’s gift because their football team’s the most supported at the Uni. Bunch of twats.”

“Can’t be any worse than you.” She said, and Emma was surprised eyes widening from across the table, Y/n’s words held a bite. But she knew that despite Y/n’s soft timid nature, she did not put up with people saying rude things about people she cared about. She was generally a calm, soft, and kept to herself kind of person. But if someone said something she didn’t agree with she always spoke up. “At least their only point of conversation isn’t about their less-than-thrilling cocks and daddy’s money.” She rolled her eyes.

“Calm down, Babe. It’s a joke. We are all mates here.” Said Peter.

Her brows furrowed as she looked at Emma, why wasn’t she saying anything? If someone had said something about either Y/n or Emma to Harry he probably would have punched them without even thinking. And Niall too, Y/n remembers one time some guy smacked Y/n’s ass at a party and Niall had to be pulled off him by three people.

“Are you dumb? Niall is our best friend and Harry is Em’s brother, you really think we aren’t going to be annoyed if you talk shit about them? Who do you think you are, huh?” She said turning to look at him.

Emma diverted the topic to something else and eventually, when Peter and Zayn were talking about Hockey, she made a signal for Y/n to follow her to the loo. Y/n was still pissed, and very ready to go home, she felt herself stewing in the corner her rage burning up under her skin. She didn’t understand why Emma hadn’t said anything, and that frustrated her more. She really hoped Emma was devising a plan for their escape but when they stepped inside the bathroom Emma stared at herself in the mirror reapplying her lip gloss she said something Y/n very much did not want to hear.

“I know Peter was a dick, but did you really have to have a go at him?”

This made Y/n even more annoyed than before, she’d only come on this fucking date for her and now she was complaining about how she acted when Peter was the one acting like a prick. Y/n didn’t see why she was at fault.

She and Emma never argued, Y/n didn’t like this. Emma was always on her side, even if Y/n had been in the wrong Emma would always be on her side. And anyway, she was protecting Harry and Niall. Not just anyone. She didn’t go out of her way to make the conversation turn into her having a go at him.

“Yes. I did. I only came on this date for you so that you could be with Zayn. Which you could’ve done without me and Peter. He’s awful, and you two could’ve just gone and done something on your own I don’t see why I had to be here.” She said, arms folding and Emma watched her. 

“And you know I don’t like when people are rude about our friends.”

Emma nodded. “I know Babe, sorry. I just didn’t want you to feel left out. You never go out with guys, I didn’t want to make you feel bad if me and Zayn start dating, you know?”

Y/n’s brows pinched, she was acting like that wasn’t Emma’s fault. Every boy she’d ever liked other than Harry, Emma had stolen or taken away. It’s like she wanted Y/n to be all hers. Not that it bothered Y/n much, if she couldn’t have Harry should didn’t want anyone anyway. 

“I don’t care about boys.”

Emma sighed grabbing her hand. “I know, but it wouldn’t hurt to put yourself out there, Babe.”

“Okay, sure, I see your point. But Peter? Really?”

She laughed. “Yeah, your right, he isn’t really your type. But he was the only available one on a Friday night.”

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. “Yeah, wonder why.”

Emma tucked a strand of Y/n’s hair behind her ear. “Can I ask you one last favour?”

Y/n frowned eyes sharpening. “I’m not shagging him.”

Emma laughed tossing her head back. “No, not that.”

“Then what?”

“Can you get a lift home with Peter instead of me? I invited Zayn over, Harry’s gone to Niall’s for a bit. I need a good shag, and I need it now.”

Y/n sighed, a big groan leaving her lips. “Fine. But please make this date end soon. I don’t want to miss Murder She Wrote which starts at 9.”

Emma laughed. “Okay Grandma, don’t worry you’ll be tucked in bed in 30 minutes I can guarantee it.”

They stepped outside the loos walking back to their table and Y/n sat down on the side with Peter, sitting as close to the edge as possible. While the three were wrapped up in conversation Y/n quickly checked her phone she had a message from Harry still waiting for her reply.

Harry Styles 🍒 

Call me as soon as you're home. Miss your voice.

This made her smile to herself, hearting the message before returning her attention back to the table. The three of them were talking and Y/n felt herself zone out staring out the window. Rain was dripping down against the windows. She was just thinking of Harry, and internally screaming at the fact she wasn’t on a date with him right now. He had become more clingy than she’d expected over the past few weeks, he called her a fair amount and they snuck talks in private when they could but they hadn’t had a chance to go on another date yet. The way he was so kind and clingy to her was honestly shocking, normally he was the best at a fuck and ghost. She assumed he’d do the same, which she knew she’d just pretend to be fine with and then probably lose her shit when she saw him with another girl.

But nothing had been as explosive as she thought it to be, and that was probably because Emma hadn’t the faintest idea. 

By the time everyone finished their meals Zayn and Emma made a dash for it. Leaving their money on the table with the cheque. Zayn paid half and Peter paid the other. Emma kissed her cheek and patted Peter’s shoulder before the two raced away, giggling. Y/n was cranky at the fact Emma had only thought of herself the whole night and sighed leaning back into the seat of the booth. More than ready to leave.

Y/n frowned to herself as Peter seemed totally intent on keeping her there for a bit more of a chat. 

She tried to be polite about needing to head home. Making up some project she needed to do, but Peter’s hand slid onto her knee and she felt disgust crawl up her spine. She felt uncomfortable.

“Maybe we could just pop into the loos then, I bet your into that kinda thing. Can tell."

Y/n’s jaw dropped and she pushed his hand off quickly, she tapped her phone and Harry’s number dialling instantly. He was in her favourites. She needed his help, she knew he would come. She brought the phone to her ear.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She said lips curling in anger.

Harry picked up on the second ring. “Hi, Baby.” He said, raspy. There was lots of noise, he must’ve been in the car driving home.

Peter grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. “C’mon, don’t be such a prude. I paid for your dinner. You owe me at least a blowie.”

Harry, spoke over the line into her ear. “Y/n?”

She snatched her wrist out from his rough palm. 

“Get off me!” She shouted and grabbed the last of Emma’s milkshake from the table and threw it onto him. He flinched at the cold milkshake hitting his skin, his Ralph Loren polo was now caked in thick pink liquid, and his ginger hair was now soaked and dripping down over his eyes as he gasped. 

“Bitch!” He shouted, wiping his hand over his eyes.

“Fuck yourself, you pathetic fucking prick.” She shouted pointing her finger at him. Harry had heard the interaction and his fingers curled against the steering wheel, knuckles turning white from his grip. He put his foot on the pedal. He was already turning the car around in her direction.

“Sorry, can you pick me up please, Harry? Peter’s a creep, I need you.”

“Of course, hang tight I’ll be there soon.”

Peter was shouting at her like the pathetic baby he was and some waitresses came over to help clean up the mess she’d made by throwing at him. 

“Sorry,” She whispered to the cherry-haired girl who came over with a cloth and spray. The girl just laughed as Peter rushed over to the manager who had come out at the sound of the ruckus. 

“It’s okay, he seems like he's a bit of a knob.” She said looking over at Y/n. 

“Are you alright?” The blonde waitress asked from the other side of her.

“Yeah, he’s just a handsy asshole,” Y/n explained.

It took only a few minutes before the doorbell rang above the entryway door and Harry entered the restaurant. He looked dishevelled and his eyes were wild as he stepped inside. His hair was wet from having walked from his car to her, the thunderstorm outside had soaked him. The top of his grey hoodie was speckled in rain, and his eyes were all stormy and this dark green that Y/n melted over. He made his way over to her and she felt herself forget for a second why he was here. 

She was just happy to see him.

“You okay?” He asked and she nodded, feeling relief flood her tummy. Harry always made her feel safe. He’d always felt like her protector even growing up. She remembered one time at her school dance some boys were trying to get Emma and Y/n in their car, they were drunk as skunks and she remembered Harry racing over and Y/n’s whose eyes were glassy with worry and he actually rubbed her arm. Then he drove them both to the party and made sure they were okay the whole night. He’d made her feel safe then too.

He rubbed her wrist, almost the same as that night at school. His thumb stroked it softly, as his eyes darted from hers to Peter who was still there. Covered in a milky pink drink, and swearing angrily.

Harry made his way over to him and grabbed him by the collar, in a rush of anger. He was bursting with anger and Y/n watched him surprised in her spot by the waitresses. She watched silently, expecting Harry to just tell him off. But he did more than that, Harry’s fist connected with Peter’s face and it made a slap, and he fell back onto the counter of the register with a bang.

His nose was bleeding upon the impact.

“If you ever touch her again I’ll fucking kill you. You hear me?” The calmness of his tone was actually chilling and Y/n felt herself tense up. Harry pushed him again. She knew if she let him he’d stay and pummel him for the rest of the night.

She walked over quickly and grabbed his arm softly. “C’mon, let’s just go. Can’t beat his awfulness out of him.”

“‘Can try.” He replied but ultimately he listened, pulling her into his side and they both apologised to the staff as they exited the restaurant. Harry’s hand slid into hers and she followed him to his car it was raining bad, big fat droplets hitting their faces as they walked steadily to the car. He opened the door for her and she slid in, he shut it when she was all tucked inside. The rain was coming down heavily and when he plopped in beside her he didn’t start the car, his hair was drenched and his eyelashes were thick with water. His face had turned soft again. He watched her for a beat. “Are you sure you're okay? I can go murder him if you want.”

She was silent for a second before turning to face him, she looked beautiful even with her frown. “Harry’s it’s fine. Can you just take me home?”

He nodded. She looked tired and frustrated, and in turn, this upset him. Y/n was too sweet to be treated like this. He wouldn’t let anything like that happen to her when he was around. He’d take care of his girl. The drive to Y/n’s house from the burger place really wasn’t far and she normally would’ve walked home if not for this heavy downpour of rain, and she had wanted Harry to be the one to comfort her. When Harry’s car pulled up outside the front of the house she looked over at him.

He was waiting for her to say she’d call him later and kiss his cheek but she didn’t. She looked up at him and sighed, bringing her hand up to push a loose curl away from his forehead.

“You wanna come up?” She asked.

He smiled. “You sure?”

She smiled bigger. “Yeah, come on.”

He turned the engine of the car off and just as Y/n went to open the door he said, “Wait.” 

She listened, watching as he bolted out of his side of the car to go to her side and open the door for her. She giggled at the gesture. Harry really wasn’t what people thought. 

He held his hand out for her to grab and she grabbed it as he helped her step down. The rain was heavy but neither of them seemed to care all that much considering they were both already soaking, and walked slowly up to her door. His hand was warm in hers and she shivered into his side. The rain had brought a chill to the air that nipped at her skin.

She unlocked the door and stepped inside pulling him in with her. The house was nice and warm, they’d been lucky enough to have an old fireplace still built in. It warmed the front rooms and meant their heating bill was much less since they only had to take care of a few small rooms. Harry followed her down the hall. 

This was the second time he’d been here, so now he knew where her room was he followed less nervously. The house was practically empty tonight beside from a few people in the living room and kitchen. Everyone must’ve been at one of the frat parties. She opened her bedroom door and they kicked off their shoes and socks that had gotten all soggy. 

Y/n shrugged her small pink coat off and put it over her desk chair. Harry stayed sort of stagnant behind her. Running his fingers through his hair. 

“Are y'cold, H?” She asked gripping the hem of her top, her back was facing him as she lifted it off. Revealing her lacy pink bra and bare back.

He felt his eyes widen and cheeks heat up. She yanked her jeans down and revealed a pink g-string that matched. It had bows on it, and it was all girly and pretty. Suddenly the wholesome urge to take care of her turned back into something a bit less wholesome. His cock twitched as she bent down to take her socks off. He had a great view of her plush perfect body. His hands flexed by his sides, and he looked down at his feet, did she want him to look?

She turned around running a hand through her hair, “Styles? You okay?”

She looked like a fucking dream.

He nodded looking up. “I- Yeah,”

She giggled. “What’s wrong?”

He rolled his eyes sighing, a smile remaining on his face. His cheeks had dusted in a soft pink that was unusual for him and only made Y/n more inclined to tease him. Roles reversed.

“Don’t play all dumb, you know you're fucking gorgeous. And I can’t exactly concentrate when you look at me like that.”

She walked closer to him as her hands slid under his hoodie and thick cotton t-shirt, hands grazing his skin. Her hands were cold, and he hissed slightly but made no movements to step back.  

“Like what?” Her eyelashes fluttered up at him. 

“Like that.” His hands slid around her back and down to cupping her ass in his big hands and bringing her closer to him. Their height difference had him bending down, ready to scoop her up into his arms.

She moved her hands onto his shoulders and pushed herself up on the tips of her toes, lips close to his. “Kiss me.”

He leaned down connecting their lips together. She pulled him closer, whispering against his lips. “‘M cold.” 

He leaned into her touch, she was gripping him tightly against herself. He pulled his arms away from her to lift his jumper off. She gripped the hem of his t-shirt and pulled that off too. His tattoos filled her vision and she wanted to bite and suck and lick and touch every single one of them. God, he was just gorgeous. And honestly, being able to kiss him was more pleasurable than any other experience she’d ever had. Kissing him alone was something she could do for hours. When Harry just looked at her that alone was more breathtaking than anything any other boy had done. To have him here in her room, kissing her, holding her, well it was everything she’d ever dreamed of. If her fourteen-year-old self knew she’d probably faint, scream, cry, and go into shock.

Her hands slid to his hips and gripped the button of his jeans, as his hands found her cheeks and kissed her again. She yanked them down a little bit revealing the fern tattoos she loved so much. She remembers him posting on his Instagram when he’d gotten them, Y/n practically choked on her water when she saw them. He was just walking sex. She wasn't any better than him, completely filthy in that head of hers.

He started walking forward and leading her back to her bed. She sat down on the mattress eyes wild looking up at him. His bulge was right in her eye-line and she smiled up at him, and she grabbed him to join her. He slotted in perfectly into her arms and his hips pressed into the thin string that was covering herself. He wasn’t ashamed that his cock was already growing in size in his pants, and he gently pressed it against her in hopes of some relief to his aching balls.

She sighed breathily into his mouth at the weight of him on top of her, she kept pulling him even closer. Their chests pressed into each other, and Harry was so warm, and Y/n was so soft. He could’ve stayed like that all night, in her arms.

He pecked her lips one last time as he pulled away to kiss along her chest. The little necklace she always wore that Emma had bought her was around her neck. It was the first letter of her name. His finger ran along it, stroking her upper chest.

“Should get a H.” He said before nibbling into the plush flesh of her tits. They were so warm and soft against his face. If he wasn’t so needy for her he’d just rest against them and sleep, smelling her delicious scent of that clean soft scent she always smelt of, it was so comforting to him.

She smiled and softly ran her hands through his hair, her legs were still wrapped around his back. “Why?”

He looked up, and suddenly all those emotions of jealousy and protectiveness were back rushing through him and making his hands squeeze her hips tightly. “So people know you're mine.”

This shocked her a bit and Harry was nervous for a second, he had revealed quite a bit of feelings in that moment and distracted himself with her neck. Kissing along her sweet-smelling skin. His lips were so gentle against her like he was afraid she’d break.

“And then what would you wear to show who you belong to Styles?” She said. Her voice was raspy and breathy from his kisses. His head snapped up and he smirked wickedly. 

“Well, why don’t you mark m’back with your nails like last time, and leave some bruises on m’neck until we can come up with a permanent solution?”

She smiled and felt her pussy throb at the thought. After the last time Harry was between her legs she’d ended up with bruises on her thighs, hickeys everywhere, and she was so sore it hurt to sit all day. She’d told him one night on the phone and he’d lost his mind over it. Loved the idea of Y/n being marked up from him, sore from their sex, unable to sit without thinking of him.

"Sound good, Princess?"

“Okay.” She replied content with his answer. Her lips formed in a pouty kissy face and he came up to press his into hers for a long peck, she smiled when he pulled away. How could he be so cocky and rude but also so soft all at once? He moved his way back down her body and kissed her hips sucking a spot into her left hip. His hand rubbed her stretch marks along there and kissed over the now bruised mark he’d made.

He moved further down until his mouth was right against her pussy. His nose brushed against the material as he looked up at her. “Gonna let me take care of you?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He smiled. “You’re such a good girl f’me. Perfect lil' thing.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

He loved when she slipped into that state of submission and obedience because normally, despite her calm presence, she basically never let Harry have anything without being teased. She was a bit of a brat to him, which turned him on an unfathomable about.

He pulled her knickers off and threw them to the side. As he spread her legs even further apart he moved one of her thighs to rest on his shoulder and the other he pushed forward toward her tummy, practically folding her in half. His ring-covered fingers gripped them and he leaned in close to her. The lips of her were like petals of a flower, splayed out and dewy. Her clit was puffy and swollen in arousal like the bud of a flower. He brought his free hand forward and circled her clit softly. Her hips squirmed into his hand and he heard her let out a shaky breath. 

“Ah,” She gasped when he leaned in closer and his breath hit her dripping pussy. It was cool and shiver-inducing and she could practically see his smile, even though her eyes had made their way shut.

He placed a gentle kiss on her clit and her hands moved to his hair quickly. “Please.”

He was teasing her and he loved the reaction it pulled from her. Now that they’d already been together once there was a certain familiarity in this. He knew what she liked and he was ready to explore things that he hadn’t already. Including taking his time and eating her out like he’d been thinking about since he was probably fourteen.

He looked up at her, her lips were in a pout of frustration. “What’s got you pouting, Princess?”

“Want you t’help me, Harry.”

“You can beg better than that, Y/n.”

“Please, Daddy.”

“Please what, Baby?”

“Please taste me, Daddy. Need your mouth. Want it.”

He smirked looking up at her. “‘Atta girl.”

She felt her clit throb at his raspy words. He leaned forward and licked a long stripe of her slick up into his mouth. She tasted tangy and sweet just like he’d imagined. His mouth watered at the taste, and he smirked. Once he’d tasted her he knew he wouldn’t be able to tease her any longer. He started moaning and grunting into her and the vibrations of it had her mewling and tugging on his hair.

“Fuck.” She cried out, neck arching into the pillow.

He was acting like a starved man and sucking onto her clit with such a hunger that it startled her. She hadn’t expected him to be so wild and good at it. She knew he was good, but Jesus, she was already feeling so much pleasure within mere minutes. He was suckling into her bud like a bee on a honeysuckle flower, all headily. The sweet nectar spilled onto his tongue as he kissed her lips, and practically devoured her whole. She was already feeling dreamy with the pleasure, floating with lust.

As he began to speed his tongue up and get more sloppy with his languid movements, she gained less control of her body. Her legs tried to shut on him and they were beginning to shake softly, he gripped them tighter and split her open for him.

His tongue lapped up the slick that was leaking out of her hungrily, and as he slipped his tongue near her weeping hole she let out a particularly loud whine and her back arched off the mattress. “Fuckin’ hell, feels good, Daddy.”

He pulled away for a breath looking up at her, rubbing his thumb over her clit in slow hard circles that had her eyes welling with tears of pleasure. “Yeah, sucha’ good girl letting Daddy eat this little pussy.”

She was bucking her hips and squirming under his tight grip. He could tell she was getting close as she ground against his face, her moans were getting louder and more desperate. Her slick was dribbling down his chin and he was moaning every few licks. He’d taken to rubbing his cock against the edge of the mattress for some relief, and Y/n coming on done from his touch was too much for him to stay still. He needed to relieve himself. Or he’d come his boxers, which he thought we be a bit pathetic. He wanted to prove to her how good he could be with her, how he liked to take his time when he could. But his neediness was making him have a little less control than he liked.

He continued eating her pussy with such a raw animalistic frenzy that her orgasm washed over quickly, taking her by complete surprise. Her tummy filled with waves of pleasure that shot all through her body as her muscles tensed and her pussy throbbed, she could feel herself clamping down onto his tongue as he groaned.

When she came it was with a desperate, soft, cry of his name. “Fuck, Harry.” She said, shutting her eyes and gripping his hair. “‘M cumming.”

“Cum for me, angel.”

She did. Hard. She felt like she had no control of her body as Harry talked her through her orgasm encouragingly. “That’s it, good girl.”

He’d slipped his fingers inside with ease and began curling against her. She felt herself fall back limp into the sheets as he continued licking and thrusting his fingers inside of her, and her hands moved to his hair once again pulling on it. Her mouth was loose-lipped and she found it hard to keep herself quiet now.

“Oh, fuck, Daddy,” She said breathlessly, all soft and quiet. It made him smile as he looked up at her, slick coating his lips. 

“Gonna be a good girl and let me make you cum again?”

She nodded biting her lip. “Mhm.” She said before throwing her head back when his fingers hit that soft spot inside her that she couldn’t reach with her own fingers. It made her melt and shake.

Harry noticed her reaction and smirked to himself. “Found it.”

As she watched him from between her thighs, his head bobbed and the muscle of his arms flexed, he was pinning her to the bed so that he could keep going. Her second orgasm found itself much easier, it took Harry a few kisses and rubs against her clit along with his fingers pounding into her until she came. 

Her legs moved to shut around his head and her nails were scratching along his shoulders and back. She kept repeating the words, “Please, Daddy.” Over and over, until.

“Oh, I think you’re gonna make me cum again.”

He kept his steady pace and sloppy kisses going, pulling away only to say. “Cum for Daddy, pretty girl,”

And she did. It was like his words had complete control over her. The ball growing in her tummy snapped and rushed through her. This time her whole body shook as she gripped onto his arms in support, she felt this release like a tidal wave.“Fuck, fuck, fuck,”

The tightness of her muscles flexing and her body shaking had her spent. She had never come so hard, and it for so long. It was a few minutes before she finally felt the pleasure subside to something more easy to take. 

She was mewling and babbling all drunken from her orgasm. “Jesus, H.”

He helped her through her second orgasm, kissing along her hips and thighs to give her swollen clit a chance to rest. When she finally came down from the peak of her orgasm, she went limp again, eyes shut, and for a moment there she couldn’t hear or see anything. She could only feel him. Feel what he’d made come over her.

When she looked down at him he’d pulled his fingers out only a few centimetres away and his mouth was damp. His chin was covered in slick and as she began to take in his appearance. His neck and the top of his chest was dripping. She was confused for a second, it couldn’t be sweat. Despite their intense state, she knew he couldn’t be sweating that much. And then she realised. 

“Oh, I squirted, sorry.” She said embarrassed trying to shut her legs. He looked at her like she was crazy moving back up so that his hips were between her thighs.

“Sorry? What are you on about? You squirted f’me, and you looked beautiful doing it too. Absolutely nothing to be sorry about.”

She smiled, still feeling shy and blushy. She’d squirted on his dick before, but certainly not his face. She hadn’t expected it to feel so good. “Thank you for making me cum.”

He smiled, and despite his rotten mouth and dominant cocky rough edges, in that moment he looked all soft and gooey and truthfully the fact he got to see Y/n so soft and vulnerable around him made him eternally soft for her. He wanted to see her like this all the time. Red-faced, pouty lips, eyes glassy in pleasure, and words slurring from complete satisfaction. Something only he got to see.

He wanted to be the only person who got her to squirt all over his face. Wanted to be the only one to taste her sweet little pussy. He wanted to be the only man for her. He felt so possessive over her like a kid not wanting to share his favourite toy. But he knew at the end of the day, it was always going to be her decision who she was with. 

But Y/n thought that over the years it was pretty damn obvious who she wanted. 

Harry was the only one for her. 

She wasn’t in some other boy's bed tonight, she was with him right now, running her nails softly along his arms despite how needy they both were for each other. She was slow with her touches like they had all the time in the world because really they did.

It was raining so heavily outside, the wind was howling wildly rustling all the trees nearby, and the thunder roared above them. The shelter her little room provided them with was perfect, and it felt like all time ceased to exist. The sky had turned dark and so had their eyes, her room was almost pitch black, and they were both so warm and close. Skin to skin.

Y/n was right here, naked, and waiting for him. 

Things weren’t so bad after all.

He placed a soft long kiss on her lips and she could taste herself on his tongue. Things tonight felt different than the first time, although Harry was fueled and fiery with jealousy and he wanted to take her roughly, it all felt more intimate.

His hands moved to her hips squeezing the plush flesh and running his hands over the stretch marks that decorated her skin. Every inch of Y/n was beautiful, and he’d never thought that before about anyone. He’d never seen someone's hands and thought what absolutely beautiful hands they had, or what beautiful teeth they had, or how cute their ears were. There wasn’t a part of her body that he wouldn’t worship. 

To him, she was the picture image of beauty.

The kiss deepened as he rolled them over. His head rested where hers just had, and he could feel the warmth her body had left behind. She sat right up against his cock, and she could feel him throbbing against her. His old thin boxers left little room for him to hide his aching want. He was honestly rock hard, watching her cum twice, feeling her, tasting her. It had him so hard he could’ve cried.

Her tits were right in his eyeline, all soft and full. He took one into his mouth sucking on her sensitive nipple, and enjoying the loud whine she let out. His hands had fallen to her ass now, and she’d taken to grinding against his clothed cock. He could feel the wetness of her leaking down onto his boxers and he wanted to stuff her full. Despite her two orgasms, Y/n was still managing just fine on top of him.

She pulled back just slightly so she could grip the hem of his boxers and tug them off. His cock sprang up against his tummy, and even though she’d seen it before she’d probably never get used to how fucking big and gorgeous his cock was. The pink ruddy tip that glistened in precum, his long veiny shaft, that girthiness he had. God she could stare at it for hours, she thinks he is beautiful in the way those ancient paintings of Greek gods were beautiful. His hair was unruly and curly and fit for a golden wreathe to sit, his body all muscular and tanned, his absolute manliness. Something about how capable he was was just enough to have her squirming her thighs.

If she was to paint him, she’d want him to look something like this. Messy, needy, and staring right at her. She moved her hand to grip his cock giving it some gentle strokes, he was hissing already. Her hands were so warm and soft, and she pursed her lips and spat down onto him, allowing her to stroke him faster.

“Such a pretty cock, Daddy.”

He let out a laugh through his moan, “Pretty?”

She nodded. “Just like the rest of you. Beautiful.”

He felt his cheeks warm in a blush. No one had ever called him that before. She was still stroking him and he felt his eyes begin to squeeze shut in pleasure. His hips rutted up into her hand a few times.

“Want to feel this pretty cock, Daddy, please,” She said, her voice in a gentle begging tone.

He opened his eyes and smiled his hand moving from her hip to her cheek stroking it with his thumb. 

“Come sit on it, all yours to sit on, Princess.”

She smiled up at him, kissing his jaw and letting go of his stiffy so that she could move her legs up the bed. When she was hovering over him she placed her arms by his shoulders ready to slide onto him when he stopped her. 

“Wait, condom?” He asked, kissing her nose. 

She shook her head. “Wanna feel you, s’that okay?”

He felt his cock twitch at that. “Yeah, I’m clean, trust you. Want that too.”

She smiled leaning forward to place a kiss on his lips. Her hand grabbed his dick and brought it up between her slick folds, collecting the wetness. She slowly slid down onto it and felt herself stretching for him, her two orgasms allowed more room for him to glide into her easily, but no matter how wet she was his cock was always going to stretch her out.

When she’d made it halfway she looked up at him, “Y'big, sorry,”

He just pushed some hair away from her face, kissing her jaw near her ear. “Take your time.”

Eventually, she made it hilt of him, sitting down on him softly. They both let out heavy sighs at the feeling, she felt so full of him. He was so deep, she could see the bulge of him in her tummy. She leaned her forehead against his shoulder and his hands massaged her thighs softly. If not for their burning desire Harry could’ve stayed just like that for hours. His back against the wall, her resting against him, cock all warm inside her. It was perfect.

She eventually lifted her head up and smeared their lips together in a messy gentle kiss. Her arms wrapped around his back in an embrace as she began to lift herself up and then back down slowly. The stretch starting to burn in pleasure now, and the pain subsiding. He moaned into her mouth loudly as she started to pick up a rhythm of deep hard thrusts. The tip of him was hitting that spot that had her eyes rolling back into her skull as she started to find the rhythm that was right for them both. She was going slow yet hard and deep, it had her pussy clamping down against him which was sending him up the wall.

Her pussy was to die for, so tight, and perfect around his cock. Wet and warm. He wanted to bury himself in it all hours of the day. Her lazy bounces started to pick up as she gripped his shoulders for leverage. His hands moved from her hips to her ass, gripping her tightly as he began to pump his cock up meeting her bounces. He was moaning and grunting into her neck and tits at the feel of her tight pussy, he started kissing her all over.

It was a beautiful sight, his pretty girl's tits bouncing right in front of his face, and her moaning against his cock. He couldn't help but smile, a devilish one.

“Daddy, fuck,” She swore. She was getting close again. Her previous orgasms had her so sensitive to his touch.

One of his hands came forward and began to rub messy circles against her puffy clit. She let out a whine and shut her eyes bouncing as if her life depended on it, his other hand squeezed her ass kneading it roughly, as he thrust his cock up into her pussy.

“You’re Daddy’s good girl aren’t you?”

This made her let out a particularly loud whimper.

“What was that, Princess?”

She just let out another noise of pleasure.

His hand moved up to grip her chin so she’d look at him. “Say it, Y/n. Tell me.”

“I’m your good girl, H.”

He frowned. “H?”

Her hips were stuttering on his cock and the hard rubbing against her clit. “I’m your good girl, Daddy.”

He smirked. “Who’s little pussy does this belong to?”

God, he was filthy. She fucking loved it. It’s what she’d imagined him to be liked. Raw, rough, filthy, dominant, and possessive.

She cried out as his thrusts began to speed up. She was dizzy with it all, struggling to speak.

Her voice came out hoarse and breathless. “Yours,”

“What’s mine, Y/n?”

“My pussy, it’s yours. I'm yours.”

He smirked. “Good girl, sucha' good fucking girl.”

His thrusts caused her entire body to jolt forward, as her nails scratched down his arms and she began to scream at the pleasure. 

“That’s it, take Daddy’s cock,”

She gripped his arms for dear life, “Gunna’ come again. Ah, mm, fuck.”

He didn’t stop for a second and it was only a few thrusts until she was squirted all over his cock and shaking wildly. He could tell he’d fucked her hard because she was practically limp on top of him when her orgasm subsided, she was spent. Harry had ruined her. Three orgasms, three mind-blowing orgasms, she didn’t know if she could handle another.

He kissed her lips. “Good job, sweet girl.”

She smiled dazedly. “Thanks, Daddy.”

“Want me ta’ take care of ya’ now.” His voice hadn't gotten even slower, slurring from the absolute raw fuck he was having.

She nodded and he helped her off him. She fell back onto her bed, back amongst the mess that was her sheets. Her hair lay above her like a crown and he kissed her lips softly, enjoying this gentle side to her. It seems the more she came the softer she got, more clingy, handsy. He fucking loved it. He was sure his shoulders were covered in scratches from her, and his hair had been tugged about by her. He probably looked just as fucked out as her.

She was covered in a light sheen of sweat, and her lips were swollen. She looked up at him fluttering her lashes. Sexiest little thing ever, a total minx. “Want you.” She whispered. She wanted him to cum, fill her up. She'd been thinking about for years, especially lately.

He grabbed her legs spreading them far apart so he could slot in between her. He was sitting up on his knees all tall above her. Her tummy curled in anticipation and desire, he was so fucking hot. His gorgeous veiny hands touched her and those ring-covered fingers of his gripping into her flesh hard. His swirls of ink were still visible under the moonlight. 

He was a sight. A pure filthy sight she wanted to hold onto in her mind forever.

“Want to fill you up, Princess.” He replied. His cock was begging for his orgasm, he’d managed to last through one of her orgasms pulsing against him, but he knew the next one would push him over the edge. He slowly slipped inside of her, and her hands found their way to his arms, gripping them hard.

He started thrusting roughly without much warning, causing her bed to shift and creak under the weight of them both. She moaned loudly, “Oh, fuck,”

With each thrust her body jolted into the bed, as she tried to find a way to control her squirming body.

He let out a hiss as his balls slapped against her ass. “Feel so good around me, sweet girl. Fuckin' perfect. Made for this cock.”

She pulled him closer so that her chest was pressed into his. His face slipped into the side of her neck and shoulder and gently kissed along there. One of her arms wrapped around his back and the other found his hand, he held hers tightly. He continued fucking into her deep, it felt so good it hurt and her hips jutted to meet his.

“‘Wanna cum, Daddy, can I?” She said softly, in a pleading tone that had his balls aching to fill her pussy up with his hot cum. He grunted pounding into her just that bit harder, this final bundle of energy he had was going toward making her finish.

She felt her tummy tightening familiarly with her orgasm. She knew that she couldn’t hold onto it much longer.

“Cum f’me please, Y/n.” He whimpered, “Be a good girl and let me feel you cum on m’cock.”

His hand held hers tightly, and this romantic intimate side of him was all too much for her, this was somehow hotter than his rough side. She loved to see him like this.

She pulled his face to hers, and they kissed as she finished. It was all teeth and tongue, noses brushing into each other, and she cried out into his mouth. He nibbled her lip and felt her clamping against him rapidly.

When he pulled back from the kiss they were breathless, each thrust had her practically crying out.

“Gonna make me cum, Y/n,” He whispered. “Where do you want me cum?”

She wrapped her legs around his hips. “Inside me, please, Daddy.”

When he made eye contact with her that’s when he finally orgasmed. The thrusts of his hips grew sloppy with pleasure as he let out a loud moan of her name and some curses. She was scratching his arm and back softly letting him fuck her full of his cum as his pleasure subsided. He didn’t move out of her, just landed on top of her. His head resting right above her fast-beating heart. He was fucking spent.

She stroked his hair feeling nice and full of him. She could feel his cum inside her, dripping out onto his cock. He was warm and big to cuddle she loved it. He lifted his head up when he caught his breath, placing a kiss on her forehead, then her nose, then her cheeks which made her giggle, then finally her lips.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered.

“Oh, shut up Styles, I already let you fuck me, no need to butter me up now.” She teased.

He rolled his eyes, still inside her, still holding her hand. “You’ve always been beautiful, most gorgeous girl in the whole world.”

Her face turned soft, cheeks blooming in a soft dusty rose. “You’re beautiful too.”

He smiled. “Thank you.”

Eventually, he pulled out of her, she felt empty and whined at the feeling. She was so sensitive now. She honestly wouldn't have minded if he'd stayed inside her for the rest of the night.

She shut her eyes and as he sat back, he watched his cum drip out of her. It made his tummy flutter. He knows he shouldn’t be thinking this far ahead considering Y/n and him weren’t even dating. But if she got pregnant with his baby, that would be the cutest thing in the world. He cut those thoughts from his mind and stood up. 

“Gonna clean y’up.” He said, walking to her bathroom. He found a cloth in there and wet it with some warm water walking over to the bed. 

She opened her eyes which had turned bleary with sleepiness. She smiled tiredly over at him. He smiled back, grabbing her legs and spreading them so he could wipe her down. She whined at the touch of the cloth.

“Sorry, Baby.”

She let out another soft wince. “S’okay, worth it.”

As he stared down at her he noticed how sweaty she looked. “Wanna shower? I’ll help you. We probably should after all that rain and other stuff.”

She nodded, a small laugh leaving her mouth. “Okay, just don’t let me fall asleep and drown in there.”

He laughed. “Course not.”

He helped her up to a sitting position and she looked up at him sluggishly. “Really got me sore, H.”

He frowned. “Sorry, Angel.”

She teasingly sharpened her gaze, “You aren’t sorry, you filthy boy.”

He smirked. “‘M not sorry for taking what’s mine, I am sorry you’ll be sore tomorrow.”

She rolled her eyes. “You will be sorry when I keep complaining.”

"I'll massage you, don't worry."

He picked her up startling her, she always knew he was strong but never expected him to pick her up with such ease, and if she wasn’t totally spent she’d want to test what also he could do with those big muscles. Throw her around maybe? Fuck her standing up? She’d make a note to herself to try that later.

His hands were under bum and as he walked to the bathroom, the shower was surprisingly big and had a tiny little shelve that came out which had all her soaps and shampoos, but there was enough room for her to sit on it.

He turned the water on warm and placed her onto the sink bench. She watched him under the pale light of the bathroom. How was this the same Harry from before?

This was a soft kind man, a gentleman, hardly a frat boy dick. She didn't know where'd he been hiding this side of him. But she liked him just as much as he did the rotten-mouthed boy she knew.

In the shower he took care of her as promised, washing her hair with the lavender-scented shampoo she owned. He used some too, and he helped wash her skin with this fresh-smelling shower oil she had. Softly cleaning her sore parts and he massaged her body with such a gentleness that she melted right into his hands.

She’d never expected Harry to be one to stay and cuddle after, let alone help shower. He was so nurturing to her. It made her feelings bloom and spread through her body like wildflowers.

When they were both clean Harry even helped her dry her hair, and change into some comfy clothes. While she was brushing her teeth and putting some skincare on he fixed up her sheets and tucked himself into them. He'd put his rings in the little dish she had on her bedside table. Checking his phone to see it was late. They'd been going for a while.

When she came out in a baggy shirt that Harry had worn last time he was here, it still smelt of him, and some little black knickers he felt his heart skip a beat. She looked especially good in his clothes.

“C’mere.” He opened the duvet and she slid in beside him tiredly. He pulled her close, right in the crook of his chest, he’d decided to wear nothing to bed. Which bothered neither of them. He ran hot, especially with Y/n snuggling right up against him.

Her window was open letting the heavy downpour of thunder and rain become background noise as they fell asleep. He kissed her temple, rubbing her back underneath his shirt.

“Night, Beautiful.”

She shut her eyes kissing one of the swallows on his chest. “Night, Styles.”

Sleep found them both quickly and Harry held onto her the whole night. He was completely smitten with her, the one girl he couldn’t have was the only one he wanted. Fuck. They were so screwed.

PART THREE???????

[harrrystyles-writing]

It's a casual ?

Inspirado na música: Casual — Doja cat

O silêncio entre nós era tão familiar quanto o peso do corpo dele ao meu lado, minha pele ainda carregava os vestígios do que havia acontecido há pouco tempo, o toque dele, o calor, os sons, como tudo parecera tão certo, nossas roupas ainda estavam espalhadas pelo chão, meu vestido caro repousava sobre a poltrona, enquanto a camiseta dele largada perto da mala de viagem, exatamente onde ele a jogou assim que chegou

Sempre a mesma cena.

Sempre o mesmo final.

Harry respirava profundamente que, por um instante, pensei que ele havia dormido, então, seu braço deslizou preguiçosamente pela minha cintura, puxando-me para perto.

— Você está acordada? — Seu peito quente encontrou minhas costas, sua voz estava rouca pelo sono.

— Sim.

— Sabe, fiquei com saudades de verdade de você. — Seu rosto encaixou no vão do meu pescoço, um arrepio veio instantaneamente.

Engoli em seco, porque não queria que ele percebesse como meu coração acelerava toda vez que fazia isso, toda vez que falava desse jeito, como se fosse meu.

— Na próxima, então não demora tanto para vir me ver. — Me esforcei para soar indiferente.

— Tá bom, eu prometo. — Ele riu e deixou um beijo suave em minha orelha. — Boa noite, amor.

Ele me chamava assim todas às vezes.

E todas às vezes, dizia a mim mesma que não significava nada.

— Boa noite.

Harry se aninhou contra mim e relaxou, como se dormir ao meu lado fosse seu lugar favorito no mundo.

Já fazia três anos que isso acontecia, três anos desse nosso lance casual e secreto, podíamos passar meses sem nos falar, sem trocar uma única mensagem, mas sempre que nos encontrávamos, era como se nunca tínhamos ficado longe.

E era isso que me destruía.

...

Quando acordei, a luz do sol incomodava meus olhos através das cortinas, a primeira coisa que senti foi o calor do corpo dele colado ao meu, o cheiro dele ainda impregnado na minha pele, meu coração se apertou quando percebi que estávamos abraçados, seu braço ainda estava firme ao redor da minha cintura, sua respiração lenta contra meu pescoço, me deixei levar por alguns minutos, só sentindo ele ali comigo.

Eu odiava que isso parecesse amor.

— Bom dia. — Ele abriu os olhos, me encarando por um momento. — Que horas são?

— Não sei. — Minha garganta apertou, porque eu sabia que aquela era a pior parte.

Harry me soltou e se sentou na cama, eu sabia que ele sairia dali em poucos minutos, como sempre fazia.

— Você quer que eu fique um pouco mais?

Essa era a primeira vez que ele perguntou isso e eu não sabia o que responder. Eu poderia dizer para ele ficar, poderia dizer que queria mais do que aquilo, mas em vez disso, só sorri porque, por um segundo, eu quase me iludi com a ideia de que ele se importava.

— Não — menti.

— Tá bom. — Harry apertou os lábios, hesitando por mais um segundo. — Eu vou indo.

Meus olhos o seguiram enquanto ele vestia sua camisa, pegava seus sapatos, arrumava seus cabelos. Ele me encarou uma última vez antes de ir embora.

E eu fiquei, mais uma vez.

Três meses.

Esse foi o tempo que levou para eu ver Harry de novo, mas, dessa vez, tudo estava diferente.

Dias depois de termos ficado juntos no quarto de hotel, surgiram novos rumores, algumas fotos dele em restaurantes, passeando em Londres com uma nova mulher. Depois vieram os vídeos, as postagens, as matérias e mais rumores de que aquilo estava ficando sério.

Harry Styles estava namorando?

Eu deveria estar acostumada, afinal ele sempre esteve com outras, assim como eu sempre estive com outros, mas dessa vez era diferente porque ele não estava apenas ficando com essa mulher, era mais do que isso, ele nem ao menos se deu o trabalho de me avisar que estava realmente sério com alguém e ao contrário de como era comigo, com ela não havia fugas apressadas pelas portas dos fundo, não havia óculos escuros e bonés para esconder o rosto, ele a deixou à vista de todos, como se não houvesse nada a esconder.

Agora, nesta noite de Brit Awards, eu fui obrigada a encarar a realidade.

O evento estava deslumbrante, como sempre, flashes de câmeras quase nos cegando e os maiores nomes da indústria reunidos em um mesmo espaço. O salão estava lotado de celebridades e os convidados conversavam e riam, enquanto prêmios eram entregues no palco sob aplausos e gritos da plateia.

E então, ele apareceu.

Harry entrou com ela ao seu lado, a modelo mais falada do momento, alta, pele dourada como se tivesse passado semanas no verão europeu, olhos cor de mel, ela era linda, isso eu não podia negar, mas o que realmente me atingiu foi o jeito que ele parecia ao lado dela, rindo, relaxado, confortável, como se gostasse de exibi-la.

Não procurei por ele, não chamei, não fiz nada que pudesse atraí-lo, eu estava com raiva, com ciúmes, eu não queria vê-lo, mas eu sabia que, no final da noite, ele me encontraria, eu podia até evitar cruzar seu caminho durante o evento, mas depois?

Ele me encontraria.

Como sempre.

Era apenas uma questão de tempo.

E obviamente, na after party que estava acontecendo em luxuoso salão de um hotel cinco estrelas, Harry só esperou a oportunidade que queria para me encurralar. Assim que saí do banheiro, no corredor estreito, lá estava ele, encostado na parede, com um copo de uísque em uma mão e um sorriso torto nos lábios.

— Você sabe como me irrita quando finge que não me conhece.

— Não estou fingindo nada. — Murmurei, tentando seguir em frente, mas senti sua mão firme me segurando.

— Ah, não? Então, olha para mim.— Mantive o olhar fixo no chão, recusando-me a lhe dar esse gostinho. — Vai mesmo continuar jogando esse jogo? — Sua voz deslizou pelo meu pescoço como um sussurro quente enquanto ele se aproximava.

— Você não está acompanhado, Styles?

— Isso nunca te impediu antes. — Com um movimento rápido, ele me virou para encará-lo.

— Agora é diferente.

— Diferente como? — Ele arqueou a sobrancelha, me prensando levemente contra a parede.

O cheiro dele me atingiu, e meu coração falhou uma batida. Ele parecia ainda mais bonito do que eu lembrava. Harry sempre teve esse maldito charme quando estava um pouco bêbado, eu odiava o quanto isso mexia comigo.

Fazia tanto tempo desde a última vez.

Tempo demais.

Eu senti falta dele.

— Quando fazíamos isso, nós nunca estávamos traindo ninguém, agora você tem namorada.

— Namorada? — Ele riu, como se fosse uma piada.

— A mulher com quem você está.

— Você sabe que eu não namoro. — Ele inclinou a cabeça, como se fosse óbvio.

— Então por que ela está aqui com você? Por que viria com ela se vocês não estão sérios?

— S/n...

— Você nem fez o favor de no mínimo me avisar sobre isso, sabe como fiquei quando você posou com ela?— O interrompi, sentindo a raiva crescer dentro de mim. — Então é melhor voltar para sua namoradinha. — Tentei me soltar, mas ele segurou firme.

— Eu não quero falar disso, agora.— Sua voz rouca ecoou em meu ouvido, fazendo um arrepio percorrer minha pele. — Eu quero você, só você.

Fechei os olhos por um segundo, sentindo a pressão da sua mão em minha cintura.

Tudo em mim gritava para ceder.

— Eu não consigo fazer isso, não assim. — Ergui o rosto, encontrando seus olhos.

Me virei para sair, mas antes que andasse dois passos, senti sua mão em meu pulso, me impedindo.

— Você vai mesmo fazer isso?

— Não finja que sua noite está arruinada quando, no final, terá uma mulher na sua cama de qualquer jeito.

— S/n.

Soltei minha mão da dele e me afastei, sentindo seu olhar queimando minhas costas enquanto saía daquele corredor.

...

O caminho de volta para o hotel foi sufocante, eu não conseguia apagar o que aconteceu da minha mente. Assim que entrei no quarto, me joguei na cama, queria chorar, mas estava cansada demais até para isso, foi quando o som de batidas na porta interrompeu meus pensamentos.

Eu não precisava abrir para saber quem era, sabia que ele viria, mas isso não significava que eu queria vê-lo. Fiquei parada esperando que ele desistisse, mas as batidas continuaram até que, com um suspiro pesado, fui até a porta e a abri.

— O que você está fazendo aqui?

— Posso entrar?

— Não. — Mas ele já havia passado por mim, fechando a porta atrás de si e trancando-a, como se tivesse esse direito. — O que você quer, Harry? Se veio para tentar me levar para cama, me poupe do trabalho.

— Eu precisava te ver, não queria que as coisas tivessem ficado daquele jeito.

— E como você queria que terminassem? Comigo sorrindo e dizendo que está tudo bem?

— Não faça isso...

— Não faça o quê? — Eu cruzei os braços o fitando.

— Isso, eu não quero brigar.

— Me fala, o que a gente tem, Harry? Além de eu ser seu segredo?

— S/n...

— Fala a verdade! Isso é casual? Ou somos algo mais?

— Vamos deixar isso para lá. — Ele avançou, puxando-me pela cintura. — Eu quero tanto te beijar.

— Eu já disse que não quero. — Me afastei dele.

— Por que não pode simplesmente aceitar o que temos?

— Aceitar o quê, Harry? O que exatamente nós temos?— Eu já sabia a resposta.

— Você sabe que eu me importo com você, eu gosto de você por perto... — Seus olhos pareciam dizer a verdade, ou eu tentava acreditar que sim. — Eu sinto sua falta e você sabe que é especial para mim.

— Especial? Mas não o suficiente para me assumir.

— Não é isso... — Ele esfregou o rosto. — Eu não quero estragar o que a gente tem, não quero que as pessoas se metam, não quero te fazer sofrer.

— Mas você fez. — Minha voz tremeu e eu odiei isso. — Me magoou hoje quando ficou ao lado de outra mulher enquanto fingia que eu não existia e agora está aqui, me dizendo que eu sou especial, como se isso fosse o bastante, se gosta tanto dela, por que você apenas não fica com ela?

— Eu não me importo com ela. — Ele se aproximou de novo e meu corpo quase traiu minha mente. — Ela é como todas as outras e eu não me importo com nenhuma outra, só com você, é por isso que estou aqui. — Sua mão acariciou meu rosto, me fazendo estremecer.

— Não diga isso se não é verdade, você não precisa me compensar com mentiras bonitas.

— Mas eu nunca menti para você, nunca prometi nada, você sempre soube que seria assim, então não me faça ser o vilão da história quando você sabia que eu nunca quis um rótulo.

— Você diz que não quer uma namorada, mas age como se quisesse. — Me afastei, tirando sua mão de mim. — Você é carinhoso, me chama de amor, faz tudo parecer perfeito, você me abraça quando acordamos, diz que gosta de mim... — Senti as lágrimas descerem. — Estou tentando ser paciente, mas como é que eu vou aguentar isso?

Harry me encarou por um longo momento, como se procurasse um jeito de consertar aquilo, mas não havia saída, eu precisava da verdade.

— O que você quer de mim?

— Eu quero um homem que lute por mim, que me queira de verdade, que não tenha medo de assumir o que sente.— Estava despejando todos os sentimentos dos últimos três anos naquele momento.— Eu quero que você seja meu, mas se você não pode me dar isso então me deixe ir, me deixa encontrar alguém que possa.

— S/N... — Harry me puxou contra seu peito, seus dedos pressionaram minha cintura, como se quisessem me manter ali a qualquer custo. — Eu odeio isso... — O aperto dele se intensificou. — Me perdoa. — As lágrimas quentes dele escorreram por minha nuca. — Não me odeie...

— Para... — Fechei os olhos com força, eu já sabia o que viria a seguir.

Sabia e ainda assim parte de mim rezava para que ele não dissesse, para que ficasse em silêncio, para que apenas me segurasse, mas ele continuou.

— Eu não posso prometer o que você quer de mim... — A confissão saiu como um sussurro. — Eu não sei como ser o cara que você espera que eu seja.

E ali estava.

A verdade nua e crua, perfurando meu peito como uma lâmina, forcei meus pés a se moverem, eu precisava sair daquele abraço antes que ele me destruísse por completo, porque ironicamente, aquele era o único lugar onde eu queria estar.

Com o pouco de força que me restava, me afastei, caminhei até a porta, destranquei-a sem olhar para trás.

— Vai embora.

[daisyblog]

Watermelon Sugar

Our Story Masterlist Summary: How Watermelon Sugar was made.

warning: smut, oral (female receiving), swearing

Very highly requested.

“So Styles…what are we working on today? Do you want to keep working on Treat People?”. Kid asked as he span around on his chair to face everyone, readjusting his hat as he did.

Harry gently licked his bottom lip as he thought about his options. “I’ve kinda got these lyrics that I can’t stop humming…I wanna work on them…see if they go anywhere, but if anyone feels uncomfortable then just say and we’ll scrap the whole thing!”.

“Shit it’s getting fucking deep in here today!”. Tyler joked, earning a snigger from Kid and a small grin from Mitch.

“What are you talking about man, every song is fucking deep”. Kid couldn’t bite his tongue. Harry only flipped him off with a sarcastic smile.

This is what Harry liked about the team, they could joke around, not taking anything to serious. But at the same time, they’d all shared many of the deepest conversations.

“Have you got like a melody or anything H?”. Mitch quietly asked as he prepared to play.

Harry shook his head as he pulled his lips into his mouth. “Nah just go with it and see what happens”.

“Tastes like strawberries…on a summer evenin'…and it sounds just like a song”. Harry acoustically sang, trying to find the right notes and melody.

“What’s with you and fruit, man?”. Mitch asked the question everyone was dying to know. “Plus what the fuck sounds like a song?”.

Harry ran his finger under his nose, a nervous habit he had. “Nothing…it’s nothing…just open for interpretation”.

---

Anne didn’t need an excuse to host a summer garden party, so the moment the sun came out she invited all her close family and friends over for food, drinks and a good time.

Harry and YN had been finding it difficult to leave each others sides, whether that was Harry’s arm reaching around her waist to sit on her hip, an arm over her shoulder or sharing a quick peck when they thought nobody was looking.

So when YN was in the kitchen, reaching across the spectacular spread Anne had put on to place a few strawberries on her plate, she felt two hands slide around her middle and a face nuzzle into her neck.

“I’ve missed you”. Harry placed small kisses up her neck, YN trying not to let her body respond as she took a bite of a strawberry, placing the green on the plate.

“I haven’t been anywhere”. YN giggled as she swallowed the fruit, placing the plate down so she could turn in his arms.

As she wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers gently played with his loose curls. Harry met her lips with his, the sweet taste of strawberry lingered between them.

“Let’s go upstairs”. Harry mumbled against her lips, that were now a darker shade of red.

“Bubs we’re in your mums…there’s a party going on”. YN pointed out as Harry’s lips nibbled down her neck, teasing and distracting her from her thoughts.

Harry only shrugged his shoulders in response. “When has that ever stopped us?”. YN knew he had a point, but she was still reluctant, glancing around to see if anyone would see them wonder off. “Please baby”.

“But I want more berries”. YN wined as she glanced back at her plate, sitting there full of fresh strawberries.

“Well I want you!”. Harry gently pulled her by the neck to place a lingering kiss to her swollen red lips.

---

”All I’m getting so far is you’ve eaten strawberries on a summer evening and it sounds like a song!”. Mitch was literal with his interpretation, looking at Harry like he’d gone crazy.

“Mitch just listen to the fucking lyrics man…we’re only like three lines in and I already know what it’s about.” Tyler laughed at how naive his friend was being right now.

Whilst Kid and Tyler fiddled about with some ideas for mixing and editing ‘Golden’, Mitch tested out a few chords to see what would fit with the current song Harry was writing.

Harry was noticing some lyrics down in his leather book, when Mitch played a particular melody that caught his ears. He listened carefully trying to find the right timing.

“I want more berries…And that summer feelin'…It's so wonderful and warm”. Harry sung, catching the other’s attention, all invested in where he was going with it. “Breathe me in…Breathe me out…i don't know if I could ever go without..”.

Harry paused as he processed where this song was going. But glancing around the room, he spotted a book on the table. Giggling to himself, he couldn’t stop his hands from reaching for it. “I don't know if I could ever go without…Watermelon sugar…High!”.

“Sounds like you’ve just named your next song”.

---

Once their hidden by the four walls in Harry’s room, he quickly reaches for YN’s waist, leaving traces of his fingers behind. Pulling her closer to him as their lips become ones and their fronts meet.

The warmth from their bodies being so close has caused them both to feel hot. Their movements feel quick and fast, but slow and soft all at the same time.

As Harry walks them blindly over to the bed, YN’s hands become greedy and pulls his T-shirt off and leaves it drop to the floor. Taking YN’s route, Harry’s ring clad fingers, find their way to the front of YN’s skirt unbuttoning it as their lips stay together like magnets.

Once her skirt and underwear are pooled on the floor, keeping Harry’s tahirt company, YN finds herself lying with her back on the duvet covered bed. Instead of joining her, YN feels his lips attach themselves to her inner thigh. Her mind becomes dizzy as she feels his wet lips trailing further up.

“Harry!”. Her lips moan, wanting to feel more as her lower stomach began to tighter already. His lips are now needier, moving higher and closer. In a quick movement, Harry grabs a pillow from the bed and places it under her hips.

Leaning forward Harry’s tongue meets her, licking up and down with a slow teasing start. His hands move her thighs so her bare legs are resting over his shoulders. Another moan leaves YN’s lips as she feels his mouth move against her.

“Oh, fook!”.

Her moaning only encourages his movements, as well as feeds his ego. Whilst his tongue teases her, swirling around as he tastes the wetness as it drips down his chin, he moves his left hand to rest on her lower stomach, pushing down gently.

“Fookin’ ‘ell, that’s good!”.

Harry could feel YN’s hips start to buck against him, so he gently held her hips down so the sensations hit harder. The sound of her heavy pants outplayed the sound of Harry’s tongue hitting the wetness between her legs.

Knowing YN was close as she muttered out small encouragements, Harry moved his tongue faster against her, lapping up the sweet taste. The addicted sensation began to build and the heat travelled down YN’s body. Her head swung back on the sheet behind her as the pressure built.

It hit her with force, causing her to feel light headed and unable to think of anything but the climax, when her thighs clenched around his head, Harry had no choice than to keep up his movements as he rode her through her high.

“Oh Harry, oh yes!”.

The sound was like heaven to Harry’s ears as he felt her vibrate against him. Watching her orgasm was still something he could never get bored of.

The energy had been wiped away from YN as she now laid still on the bed, unable to move due to the shakiness. Harry lifted himself up from his position between her legs, wiping away the wetness left behind on his chin.

Harry moved further up the bed with his knees, hoovering over YN’s tired body. He leaned forward pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

“Worth missing out on eating your strawberries?”. Harry sarcastically asked, as he held himself up with his arms.

---

As they continued to work on the song, now known as ‘Watermelon Sugar’, the penny dropped for Mitch as Harry sang, trying to perfect the melody and pre-chorus.

“Tastes like strawberries on a summer evenin'…And it sounds just like a song…I want your belly and that summer feelin'…I don't know if I could ever go without”.

Mitch’s eyes went wide at the realisation. “Shit…fucking hell man…you’re singing about eating-”.

Before Mitch could finish his sentence, Harry cut him short. A large cheeky smirk covering his face as he did so.

“It’s a song about wanting to eat strawberries!”.

Tag List:

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats@harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r  @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour@bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl@buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream@treehouse-mouse @mrs-anna-styles211994 @macy-tpwk

[yvaineseleneposts]

The only one

Requested: no

A/N: based on the song Ask you tonight by Big Time Rush

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Words: 1k

Warning(s): none just fluff

The evening in London had a stillness to it, a calmness that seemed to reflect the way I was feeling in the moments before I knocked on Harry’s door. It had been a long time coming. I’d spent so many nights staring at my phone, wondering if he felt what I felt, wondering when he would say the words that I needed to hear. I had always been careful, patient even, not wanting to rush him, to push him before he was ready. But tonight—tonight I felt something shift in the air. Something undeniable.

I took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. I hadn’t been this nervous in a while. Every inch of me wanted him to say it—wanted him to tell me everything that had been building between us. But I also wanted to be sure. This wasn’t a fling. It couldn’t be. I knew that.

The door clicked open, and there he was. Harry, looking effortlessly charming, a smile dancing on his lips. But there was something different in his eyes tonight—something that felt more certain, more intense.

“You’re early,” he said with a playful grin.

I couldn't help but grin back. “I couldn’t wait to see you.”

Harry’s gaze softened as he stepped aside to let me in, but I could feel a shift in his energy, a quiet tension hanging between us. It wasn’t like before, when we would joke and laugh and enjoy the lightness of each other’s company. There was an unspoken weight tonight. Something had changed, and I could feel it deep in my chest. It felt like we were standing on the edge of something huge, something we couldn’t ignore anymore.

As I stepped inside, I noticed the place looked almost the same as it always had—simple but cozy. It felt like Harry. There were no fancy decorations or pretensions—just a place that he could call home. And now, standing in it, I realized how much I wanted to be a part of that. To be a part of him.

“Everything okay?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady as I set my bag down on the couch.

He turned toward me, his eyes locking with mine. There was something in his gaze that stopped me in my tracks. It was a combination of longing and something I couldn’t quite name—maybe vulnerability, maybe hope.

“I’ve been putting this off for far too long,” Harry said, his voice low and steady. He paused, taking a deep breath, before continuing, “But I can’t wait anymore. I know you’re the one.”

My heart skipped a beat. The words hit me like a wave, crashing over me with all the force of everything I’d felt these past few months, everything I’d been trying to ignore. He had said it—he had said it. The thing I had been waiting for, the thing that had been lingering between us like a secret, was finally out in the open.

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine, his hand reaching out as if to reassure me he was there, grounded, real. “The only one I want to love. For the rest of my life, plus a million more years, I want it to be with you. I don’t need to search anymore. You’re the one.”

I could feel the tears welling in my eyes as I stared at him, speechless. Was this really happening? Was I really hearing him say all the things I had only dreamed of? For so long, I had wondered whether he felt the same way, if he was just waiting for the right moment to admit it. And now, here we were.

“Harry…” My voice cracked, but I forced myself to keep going. “You really mean that?”

He smiled, but it wasn’t just the playful grin I was used to seeing—it was something deeper. Something that came from the very core of him. “I do. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” he said, his voice firm and resolute. “And I might just ask you tonight.”

My breath hitched. It felt like my whole body was on fire, buzzing with anticipation. This was the moment. The moment everything changed. No more hiding, no more wondering. We were in this, fully and completely.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” I whispered, my hands trembling slightly as I reached out toward him.

Without another word, Harry pulled me toward him, his lips meeting mine in a kiss that felt like everything I had ever needed. Time seemed to slow down, and for those few seconds, it was just us. His hands held me tight, as if to make sure I was real, as if he were afraid that if he let go for even a moment, I might disappear.

When we finally pulled apart, I could see the sincerity in his eyes. “For the rest of my life,” he whispered, his forehead resting against mine.

I closed my eyes, letting the words wash over me. “And a million more years,” I replied, my voice thick with emotion.

Harry smiled, the kind of smile that made my heart swell. “No more waiting. No more searching. This is the real thing. I know it’s the real thing,” he said, his hands gently cupping my face.

I leaned into his touch, letting out a shaky breath. I had waited for this for so long, and now that it was here, I didn’t know what to do with all the feelings inside me. It was like a weight had been lifted off my chest, and in its place was nothing but certainty and love. This was it. This was real.

He kissed me again, this time slower, deeper, like he was pouring everything he had into me. I could feel it in every touch, every word, every shared breath.

When we finally broke apart again, I took a step back, not wanting to pull away but needing to say what was on my mind.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this, Harry,” I said softly. “I knew you were the one from the start, but I wasn’t sure if you felt it too. I didn’t want to push you.”

Harry looked at me, his expression soft and understanding. “I know. I know it wasn’t easy. But I needed to figure it out on my own. I couldn’t let you go, not when I knew this was what I wanted. You’re the one. And I’m not letting you go.”

I smiled, my heart soaring. It felt like everything had led to this moment. The late-night talks, the laughter, the shared experiences. It had all been building to this.

“No more waiting,” I said, repeating his words back to him. “No more searching. This is it, isn’t it?”

“This is it,” he confirmed, a grin spreading across his face.

We stood there in the quiet of his flat, the weight of everything settling in. No more wondering. No more hesitation. We were both all in, ready for the life we were about to build together.

And as we wrapped our arms around each other, I knew one thing for sure—there was nothing else I wanted. Nothing at all.

This was forever. And a million more years after that.

[niallsgoldhoop]

sweet spot

a niall horan short story part one of six / six thousand words-ish nsfw, 18+

“I’m going to get another drink!”

I smile at my friends before turning away from the round table we’ve been sitting at, cutting my way through the crowded bar full of people dressed in various shades of green.

St. Patrick’s Day was the day to go out.

This year, for once, it fell on a Sunday which was the only day that I was off work.

Not that I was complaining— Owning my own bakery was the one and only thing that I had ever wanted and dreamed of.

So this morning when a couple of my closest friends asked if I wanted to go out with them later that night, the only obvious answer was yes.

“What can I get for you?” Looking up at me with a wide smile, the girl behind the bar mixes a couple of drinks before pushing the one in her hand right to the girl next to me.

Biting on my bottom lip, my eyes scan over the rows of liquor bottles lined up behind her. “I’ll just take an old fashioned with an extra cherry, please!”

“You got it, babe.”

Turning her back to me and pouring my drink, I lean against the dark wooden bar top to wait. While I’ve made my rounds to different pubs and bars over the years, I’d never been to Wilson’s before. It was full of sports memorabilia and vintage Guinness signs.

As my eyes take in everything around me, I realize one more thing that this bar has that none of the others have ever had.

Him.

Jesus Christ.

Even from here I can tell his eyes are light— a contrast to the dark chestnut color of his hair that curls out from the bottom of the Boston Red Sox hat perched on top of his head.

Sitting with a small group much like my own, the moment his eyes meet mine from across the distance something shifts deep inside my belly.

Heat blooms across my cheeks as I look away, focusing my vision on the baseball game playing on the television to my left, only I definitely couldn’t tell you a single thing on it.

“See something you like?”

Whipping around at the sound of a low, Irish accent, I find myself face to face with the most attractive man I’ve ever seen.

If I thought he was captivating from across the room?

That was nothing compared to standing right next to him.

Under the brim of his hat, those eyes are so blue that it takes my breath away especially when the golden ring around his pupil catches the light when his fingers grip the brim of his hat and turn it backwards.

Fuck me.

“I—Um—“ Words evade me as he looks over the features of my face, those eyes falling to my lips for the longest few seconds of my life.

Running his hand over the dark scruff lining his jaw, it does nothing to hide the smirk that pulls at the corner of his full lips. “Cat got your tongue?”

This time I realize it’s my turn to let my eyes linger where they shouldn’t as a smug smile pulls on the corner of my own lips.

“Niall.” Holding his hand out to me, goosebumps travel up my arms at the electric touch between us. “And you?”

Just as I go to answer, the drink I ordered slides in front of me, looking so refreshing that I can’t help but pick one of the cherries out and bite it between my teeth, my tongue catching the drop of cherry flavored whiskey from my bottom lip.

“Willow.”

His thoat bobs against his swallow, that thick accent rough and low as he pushes closer to me as someone slides up to the bar behind him, repeating my name back to me as if he was imagining the taste of it on his own tongue. “Willow.”

I’ve never met someone who I’ve been able to fall into a conversation with so quickly. It feels like we stand there forever, slowly drifting closer and closer to each other. The smell of his vetiver and bergamot cologne becomes more and more intoxicating as time goes on.

“So, this is your holiday?” Taking a sip of the amber liquid from my glass, I look up at him through my lashes as the last rays of the sun filter through the old stained glass windows of the bar.

His laugh is loud and full before he leans a little closer to be heard over the noise, his tone playful with something else hidden under the surface. “I guess that depends.”

“Oh yeah?” A smirk pulls at the corner of my lips when Niall reaches out, his finger boldly tracing the thin green strap over my shoulder before following the path of my collarbone. “On what?”

A final peak of the sun hits the gold hoop in his ear just before he leans forward, his soft lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “Are you going to kiss me because I’m Irish?”

“I don’t know—“ Reaching forward, my middle finger tucks into the pocket of his jeans as I look up at him, my head tilting to the side. “Are you gonna kiss me if I’m not?”

Time stands still between us as Niall glances behind him, towards the table of friends he left behind, his hand dropping to my waist where the tips of his fingers slide just barely under the top of my jeans. “Maybe not on the lips— But I can think of some other places I’d like to get my mouth.”

“Here?” This time it’s my turn to look behind me, towards my friends. “I—“

“Well, I’m not opposed to that.” His voice sounds laden with honey. “I won’t lie, Willow— You are one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen.”

A blush crowds the apples of my cheeks as I push a lock of hair behind my ear. “I could say the same about you, Niall.”

“Will they miss you?” Blue eyes look over the top of my head as he looks towards my friends. “Because I know the guys at my table won’t miss me.”

Biting my bottom lip, I shake my head. “They’ll be fine.”

I wasn’t a stranger to a one night stand— in fact, I feel like that’s what I preferred.

Working the hours at the bakery mixed with helping my sister, it just worked out that way. Plus it never really bothered me to be single.

There was something about Niall that felt honest.

Deep in those sapphire eyes with their golden sunset, there was a feeling in my gut of trust.

Ever since I was younger I’d always had intuition that was rarely ever wrong, something that I held close to my heart, letting myself lean into those feelings.

“So what do you say, Willow?” That brilliant smile splits across his perfect features, a couple of small crinkles at the corner of his eyes. “Want to get out of here?”

“Are you asking me to make an Irish exit?” A laugh bubbles out from my lips as I look up to him.

With a shrug of his shoulders, that hand resting along the top of my hip slides along the rough material on my jeans before his fingers dip into the waistband, pulling my body flush with his as his lips brush across my jaw. “Is it still an Irish exit if you leave with someone who’s Irish?”

“Mm, maybe not.” My words come on an exaggerated breath— one not meant for the public to hear. “Let me just send my location to my friends and tell them I’m leaving.”

Niall nips my earlobe. “I can't stop thinking about what I’ll do when I’m alone with you.”

Pulling some cash out of my wallet and pushing it across the bar, I listen to the fire blazing through my blood as I thread my fingers through his, looking up at him with a smile.

“I can't wait to find out.”

_________

I’ve never wanted someone so bad.

The entire ride in the back of the taxi to Niall’s house was like the ultimate tease of his attention.

From the words he whispered against my skin to the way his hands rested heavy on my thigh, his pinky just teasing along the seam of my jeans.

His lips hadn’t even met mine and I already knew just how impactful it would be when they do.

God, how fucking god they’ll feel.

On my lips.

On my skin.

When his hand finds mine as he says goodbye to our driver, butterflies flood my belly as he guides me in front of him to the front door of a quaint bungalow style house complete with a blooming garden.

“Fucking finally.” My body presses into his front door as he reaches into his pocket, the sound of metal keys cutting through the crisp air. “When I saw you— Standing at that bar— All I could think about was getting you here, with me.”

One hand wraps around my waist as the other pushes the key into the lock, turning it and pushing open the heavy door. As much as I’d like to look at everything inside, that idea falls flat when Niall grips me by the hips, spinning us around and pushing my back into the door as it slams shut.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this? With where this is going?” Cupping my jaw, his thumb presses under my chin to bring my gaze to his. “If we’re going to do this— Together— I want you to be vocal, okay? I want to hear you answer me and tell me what you want, what you need. Can you do that for me, Willow?”

I swallow the nerves building up, nodding my head, my tongue rolls over my body lip. “Yes— Yes, I can do that. Please, Niall—“

“Come here.”

When the space between us closes, his lips on mine, I swear to god it feels like the earth starts to spin in reverse.

Soft and supple, Niall moves his lips along with mine as if he’d been doing just that for years. I can't even contain the whimper that falls from my own lips when his tongue teases across my top lip as his hands slide under the thin top that I pulled on this morning.

Just feeling his skin against mine sends a wave of goosebumps across my body, making me arch my back to push myself even closer to his warm body, feeling the heat emanating from him.

“Fuck.” His teeth pull on my bottom lip, just enough pressure to send a jolt through my nervous system. “I could stand here and kiss you all night, Jesus Christ.”

“Mhm.” Is my only reply as my lips travel from his and across the scruff lining his jaw, down to the spot under his golden earring, pulling the skin between my teeth and soothing it with my tongue. “But then I wouldn’t get to see this.” Dropping one of my hands, I cup him through his jeans and listen to the low groan from deep in his throat. “Wouldn’t that be a shame?”

“Yeah? You want to see my cock nice and hard for you— Is that it?” Niall pulls back just enough to meet my gaze as his hands fall from under my shirt. “I’m going to ask you some questions, okay?”

“Okay.” Breathless, I feel the electricity as it buzzes underneath my skin.

“Is anything off limits for you?” Working the button of my jeans, he keeps those blue eyes on mine.

Shaking my head, I feel my heart rate skipping a beat. “No.”

“Good.” A smile plays at the corner of his lips as the unmistakable sound of his fingers pulling down the zipper fills the space around us. “Do you need a safe word just in case?”

“N—No.” I shake my head again. “I don’t.”

A small nod is the only response I get before Niall drops down in front of me, looking up at me from his knees, his fingers curling around the edge of my pants before pulling them down to reveal the skimpy lacy covering my center.

“Jesus Christ.” Strong hands drag up my thighs as his eyes go wide. “This incredible body is just for me tonight, is that right?”

Through dark lashes framing his eyes, the blue fades out as the darkness of his pupils expand. “For tonight, yeah.”

“Are you going to leave that pretty green top on? Or take it off?” The very top of his finger traces the edge of the black lace, making my thighs inadvertently rub together. “Don’t worry— I’ll take care of you.”

Gripping the edges of my shirt and pulling it off, I drop it next to where my shoes and my jeans sit in a small pile, my hand reaching out to run through Niall’s dark hair.

When the soft light from the lamp across the living room catches the silver barbells through my nipples, his eyes close as he tilts his face up to the ceiling, almost like he’s in need of his own savior.

“Willow.” My name falls off his lips on a groan, one from deep inside his chest. “God.”

With my back still against the front door, a small gasp leaves me when Niall’s lips press against my skin, small kisses dancing across my thighs and the soft nips from his teeth adding to the sensation.

“Look at you— Soaking wet.” Dragging his finger over the center of the damp fabric, I tilt my head back when he presses his fingertips to my clit. “I bet you taste sweet, so fucking sweet.”

“Maybe if you quit talking you’ll find out.” I answer.

Niall scoffs, looking up at me. “So the pretty girl from the bar has a bratty side, does she?”

Hooking his finger into the lace and pulling it to the side, I can’t help the way my lips pop open as his tongue moves through my center, the tip of his tongue swirling around my throbbing clit before pulling away.

“Niall—“

“You know, I like brats.” Pressing a soft kiss to my thigh, his nails drag down the back of my thighs before peeling the scrap of material from my body. “So by all means— Keep going.”

Before I can formulate a response, he buries his face between my legs and when he suctions his lips around my clit, it feels like all I can do is not to unravel right then and there. Burying my hands in his hair, I moan out as he goes back and forth between tracing mindless patterns across the sensitive nerve and flicking his tongue in a rhythm that doesn’t even seem humanly possible.

“So fucking sweet.” Resting his head on my lower stomach, I take a second to catch my breath before feeling his finger as he drags it through the wetness he’s created. “I bet this cunt is so tight, so warm.”

Pressing one finger inside, he only draws it back to add a second one before hooking them both forward and finding the spot that only those few and far between have been able to find.

“Niall, oh god—“ Letting go of his soft brunette waves, I let my fingers slide up my belly until they find the silver piercings on my chest, messing with them to add another level to the pleasure he’s giving me. “That feels so good, so damn good.”

“Let me.” Moving my hands out of the way, he grips my heavy breast in his hand before flicking the metal and making me cry out. “Put your hands up— Over your head.”

I do as I’m told just as he finds his home between my legs again, the sounds coming from the back of his throat making me whimper louder than I even knew was possible. Especially when he lifts my leg over his shoulder, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers as he eats me with fervor— as if he hasn’t had a drop of water in a desert for years.

“Are you going to come for me like this? Against my front door?” Nipping the sensitive nerve, I feel my walls flutter against his fingers. “How many times has someone made you come before, Willow?”

My eyes flutter closed as he sucks and licks me like never before, his fingers pressing harder inside of me. “Thr—Fuck, three.”

“Challenge accepted.”

Those words are the last ones I hear before he brings me to a pleasure I’ve never known.

“Fuck!” Letting my mouth fall open, I cry out as my orgasm crashes through my body. “Niall.“

He stands up to tower over me, cupping my jaw and letting his fingers dig into my cheeks, a silent question.

When I nod and open my mouth, he lets his saliva mixed with my release gather on his tongue before letting it fall into my waiting mouth.

“Perfect— You are literally perfect.” Crashing his lips to mine, when his hands slide down my thighs, I let him wrap them around his waist before he turns us away from the door. “I’m going to have so much fun making a mess out of you— wrecking you.”

His lips move against mine in a slower kiss than before, taking his time.

I pull back from him just enough to see the dark walls of his bedroom, the bed looking like a cloud from the fluffy sheets and the half made duvet spread across the top.

Niall sits in the edge of the bed, his hands moving across my ass at the same time he drops his lips to my neck, leaving wet kisses down until he takes one of my nipples into his mouth.

“Oh, yes.” Barely a whisper, the sensation of his warm mouth along with his tongue flicking across the metal makes me arch my back. “More.”

Releasing one and doing the same with the other, he pulls away too soon. “Get on your knees first.”

“And if I say no?” I gripping the hair at the base of his neck, I pull until he has to tilt his head back to look up at me. “If I want to be a brat?”

A low laugh falls from his lips as he stands to his full height, turning so that he can drop me down onto the bed, reaching out and grabbing a fist full of my hair just hard enough that I feel the sting in my scalp.

From my scalp all the way to the spot between my legs.

“You want to be difficult? That’s fine.” Working the button of his pants, I bite my bottom lip in anticipation. “You can be difficult with my cock down your throat, yeah?”

When he releases my hair, his hands make quick work of his pants and briefs, shoving them to the floor and kicking them off to be forgotten until later before grabbing his shirt and adding that to the pile.

Just the sight before me makes me whimper.

A perfect amount of dark hair dusts across his chest and even matches the trimmed hair that leads to the most perfect cock that I’ve ever seen.

“Go on, put your mouth on me.” Gripping himself in his left hand, Niall presses the tip of his cock to my bottom lip, using it to pull it down to release it with with a pop. “Let me see how well I fit.”

Opening my mouth, I flick my tongue along the underside of his length, looking up at him through my lashes before closing my lips around him and drawing him in.

“Holy shit.” Dropping his hand, he threads it through my hair instead. “Just like that, baby.”

The small amount of praise makes me take him deeper, letting my tongue run along the thick vein that decorates him. His hand in my hair tightens as he hits the back of my throat, a moan breaking through his lips.

“Open your throat for me, I know you can take more than that.” Niall demands.

Doing just that, I let my jaw relax and when he pushes even further, the intrusion makes my throat restrict— gagging around him and feeling tears rush to the corners of my eyes.

“Again—“

Pushing forward, this time I let him rest at the back of my throat for a couple more seconds before pulling back, using my fist to work him over as I catch my breath.

I don’t waste time before taking him back in my mouth, keeping my eyes on his as I taste the saltiness of him, wishing more than anything he would give me everything— to let me swallow everything he could give me.

“I can’t—“ Shaking his head, Niall pulls back. “You’re mouth feels too good, Will—“

The shortened version of my name makes butterflies erupt in my stomach, ones that I immediately have to tamper down at the reminder that this is what it is.

One night.

A nickname means nothing.

“You’re ruining my fun.” I say with a pout, looking up at him.

“I am?” He grins as he looks down at me, his tongue rolling across the inside of his cheek as I nod. “Fuck, then around and keep your hands where I can see them.”

Eager to please, I maneuver around the mattress until I face away from him, letting my palms run across the soft sheets until they extend in front of me while Niall drops his hands to my ass.

“Willow, were you being honest when you said nothing was off the table for you?” Smooth palms work small circles across my skin.

Turning to look over my shoulder, I catch Niall’s gaze looking at where he wants to be buried, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “I was being honest— Do your worst, Niall.”

Before I can finish my last breath, he raises his palm and brings it down across my skin making me cry out at the sting of pain.

“How’s that feel?” He asks, bending to press a kiss to the area. “ Feel good?”

“Yes, yes—“

Another sting across the opposite side, this one harder than the other as he squeezes my flesh in his hand. “Good, good girl.”

After a few more stinging strikes, I can feel my arousal as it drips between my thighs, the need for him so strong that I don’t know how to even possibly control it.

“Niall, I need more— Please, give me more.” I beg.

“Tell me now… Do you want me to get a condom?” Voice thick, his lips press to the middle of my bare back as he bends over me, letting his hands run over my breasts and toy with my nipples. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“No, no.” Shaking my head, I breathe out. “I get tested and I’m clean.”

“I am too.” Warm breath skates across my back. “I can show you the results.”

Rolling my lips together, I whimper. “Don’t make me wait— I need to feel you inside of me.”

Niall presses one last kiss to the center of my back before I feel the blunt head of his cock as he runs it through my center, coating himself in me.

If I thought he was going to say something— I was wrong.

Instead, he grips my hips in his hands and buries himself so deep inside of me that my cries seem to ricochet off the walls from feeling him filling me.

“So fucking perfect.” He says, pulling out to the very tip before slamming back into me and pulling my ass up to meet his thrusts. “My cock fits so well inside you. Can you feel how greedy this little cunt is, huh?”

“Oh— Oh my god—“ A moan slips from my lips as he punishes me for things I haven't even done, his grip no doubt leaving bruises of his fingertips behind. “Fuck, Niall. You’re so fucking deep.”

From behind me, I can hear the sound of his hips meeting my ass, each one more punishing and relentless than the last. Niall lets his hands slide from my hips to my ass, moving just right so that when I hear the spit leave his lips and land perfectly on his cock, I feel myself racing towards another climax.

“I can feel you squeezing me, are you going to give me another one of your pretty moans? Coat my cock?” Bringing his palm down against my skin, my knuckles turn white as I grip the sheets. “Who would have known you were this fucking filthy.”

“Right there, please don’t stop!” The cry from my lips leaves my mouth open as I choke around the moan that follows it. “I’m going to come again. Oh fuck, right there. Please.”

Niall buries himself with such power that my release lets go, barreling towards the finish line as my teeth bite down on the comforter as I push my face into the bed. “God, Willow— You’re squeezing my cock so fucking good, holy fuck.”

He pulls out of me only to pull me to the edge of the bed and roll me over, sinking himself back inside of me, making my back arch off the bed while my hands reach for anything to hold onto.

“I could spend days buried inside of you and not get enough.” Meeting my gaze, Niall slows his thrust as he rolls his hips, grinding the base of his cock against my clit. “A night isn’t enough. Play with those pretty piercings for me, Will, please.”

Using both of my hands, I pinch and play with the sensitive peaks, giving the attention that I love and loving the way his eyes feel as they travel from my eyes all the way down my body to watch where he sinks inside of me.

“Harder, I need it harder—“ I say, biting my bottom lip.

Niall leans over the bed, his hand wrapping around the base of my throat, squeezing just enough to restrict my airway. “You want to be fucked like a slut? Is that what I’m hearing?”

Only able to nod, my voice catches in my throat as he picks up his pace and thrust into me so hard that my back slides up the sheets of the bed. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah?” Sweat drips down the side of his neck as he hovers over me, those blue eyes flaring with unbridled lust. “How’s that?”

“So good.” I moan, my nails scratching down his chest and over the muscles of his stomach. “I feel, god. Your cock feels so good.”

“I’ve never been buried inside someone that feels like this.” He moans, tilting his head up to the ceiling. “Strangling my fucking cock. and trying to kill my for everything I have.”

Dragging his hands away from my neck, his hand splays wide across my chest as he pushes me into the mattress. “Come on baby, I can feel you ready to soak me again— Give it to me, let me have it.”

“No. I want—“

Niall groans as he brings his thumb to my mouth, pushing it in deep enough that I gag before he drops it to my clit, working circles around the nerve as I cry out his name so loud that if he had neighbors close enough they’d never have to wonder what his name is.

“Stop being difficult, fuck.” Thrusting into me, he drops his head to mine and pulls my bottom lip between his teeth. “Come around me, now.”

Giving over the control of my body, Niall fucks me as I release around him again, coating his cock and soaking the sheets as he drops his head to my neck, sucking the skin between his teeth.

“There you go, look how perfect you are when you listen.” Low and rough, his voice is like gravel. “Such a fucking good girl for me, Willow.”

I nod, feeling empty as he pulls out of me and grips my knees, pushing them apart to look down at my weeping cunt, the mess he created.

“Fuck.”

Dropping down, he wastes no time before taking my clit into his mouth, the suction so hard that it sends me spiraling into another orgasm and coating his tongue with my release, making me squirm on the sheets.

“Niall, I— I can’t, my god—“

“Get up, let me see you dripping for me.” Niall runs his tongue along his bottom lip. “I’m not done with you.”

“I—“

“Now.” His palm cracks across the side of my breast, making my breath ragged as he fists his cock, taking a step back from the bed and reaching for my ankle to drag me to the edge. “Stand up and bend over. Take my cock like the good girl you are.”

I scramble to stand up, my legs already feeling weak as he grips my hips and turns us to face the dresser along his wall, the oversized mirror hanging above it.

“You’re going to watch me fuck you in this mirror— Watch as I fill this cunt to the brink with me, do you understand me?” Wrapping my hair around his fist once, twice— he tugs on it when I don’t answer. “Fucking answer me, you slut.”

Nodding, I rest my elbows along the top of the dresser. “Give it to me, please.”

“There’s that nice girl I met at the bar.” He smiles at me. “You are so perfect, so beautiful.”

Slower than anything else we’ve done tonight, Niall pushes inside of me; it feels like every single ridge and vein touches the right spot inside of me, filling me up so full that it brings tears to my eyes.

“You gonna cry over this cock?” Pushing harder, Niall places his hands on the outside of my arms flat on top of the dresser, the heat between our bodies an inferno as his sweat slicked skin moves across mine. “Cry over how fucking good we fit— Cry over how well you’re taking me— Taking me so deep?”

Shaking my head, I find his eyes in the mirror. “I can’t—“

“You can.” Niall presses forward, my legs shaking as he reaches around to bring his fingers to my clit and working the sensitive nerve into tight circles. “You can take it, and you fucking will.”

“Niall—“

“You’re going to come all over me again and then l’m going to fill this perfect pussy so full that you’ll be dripping down your thighs for me.” For the first time, his voice falters as I feel his thrusts foster for just a second. “Then maybe I’ll be done with you.”

Pushing up onto the tips of my toes, the new angle causes me to cry out, my hands sliding along the wood and pushing a stack of shirts to the floor at the same time that Niall’s scream blends with mine as he empties himself so deep inside of me that it feels like I can’t breath.

Fucking me through both of our orgasms, I feel the tears as they stream down my cheeks at the same time I gasp for air to fill my lungs.

“Fuck, Willow— Fuck—“ Niall grips my hips as he slowly pulls out of me, his eyes trained between my legs. “Look at that.”

Dropping to his knees, I let my head fall onto my arm. “God.”

“I made such a mess of you.” Using his thumbs, he pulls me apart to watch as his release runs down the inside of my thighs. “I’ve never seen someone look so good coated in me, dripping my come.”

“Niall.” The words from my lips are hoarse as he stands up, wrapping his arms around me and pulling my spent body into his. “I’m so— so tired.”

“You did so good, baby.” Pressing a kiss to my temple, I let myself sink into his arms knowing that it’s a chance I won’t get again. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

Carrying me to the bathroom, I don’t protest when he starts a bath and helps me climb inside, the warm water soothing me into a post sex state that I have never experienced before.

As he runs his hands over my body with a lavender body wash, I let my head rest against his chest from where he sits behind me, listening to him as he keeps telling me how good I was.

How good I am.

“You know, you could stay here.” Pressing a kiss to my shoulder, I close my eyes at his words. “Spend the night.”

Shaking my head, I turn to look at him. “This was a one night thing, we know that.”

“Exactly.” Pressing a lingering kiss to my lips, he runs the tip of his nose down the length of mine. “You staying the night is still just one night.”

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I find myself nodding.

Which is exactly how I find myself curled into his side after a change of the sheets, an oversized Harley Davidson shirt pushed up over my stomach as Niall’s warm palm keeps me pulled into him as his warm and steady breath tickles the hair at the back of my neck.

I let myself relish in his warmth for thirty more minutes before I slip out from the sheets, taking one last look at him before making it to the living room and pulling on my jeans before calling a taxi.

Slipping away from the best sex I ever had and leaving without a note is hard, but it has to be done.

Niall and I were meant for one night and nothing more.

However, when I climb into my own bed still wrapped in that white shirt, I find myself wishing for the first time in a king that there was a potential for more.

That we would be more.

That Niall would want to be more.

With me.

—————

AHHHHH!!!!!

i’m so excited about this story and putting it out here for everyone to read!!! the second part is coming soon and i hope you like this!

-a🍀