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masks | harry styles x model!oc
summary: Carolina Saraiva, 20 year old supermodel, has fallen into the dark. looking into the mirror, she hardly recognizes herself. At Vanity Fair's new masquerade ball, she embarrasses herself in front of one of the most famous men of 2014---Harry Styles. Chaos ensues. For many, many years.
part 2 here! and part 3!
warnings: mentions of drugs, disordered eating, vomit, anxiety, claustrophobia, (eventually sexual content but be patient friends)
a/n: I have been writing fics for myself for ages and I had an idea for a little HS series the other night and felt the need to share. Wrote this in one go and did no editing. I never read OC fics. Why am I writing an OC fic?
word count: about 1.5k
Every camera flash seemed brighter and more obnoxious than the last. Lina thought she’d have been used to the visual assault, but she was wrong.
She’d been wrong a lot lately.
Vanity Fair’s first ever masquerade ball drummed up quite the ruckus in the few months since it was announced. Of course, her management was thrilled when she received an invitation. At just 20 years old, Carolina Saraiva was a modeling sensation. At 18, she opened the Victoria’s Secret show, walked for Dior and Prada, and graced the cover of British Vogue---soon to be American Vogue, if her team had anything to say about it. She blew up so quickly, it was as if she spawned into superstardom in a mere moment.
“The next Gisele,” her mother said wistfully after seeing her Vogue cover. “I have never been happier.”
Lina, however, had certainly been happier. In fact, she had never been further from happy. Joy was a limited resource in the modeling world; one that had been used up long before she took her first headshots. All that remained was coke, tequila, and passing out in the bathtub. Not that she partook in all those things exactly.
Only two.
She was sure the cameras would catch her exhaustion, blinding light illuminating her dark circles, hallowed cheeks, and heavy lids.
Is Carolina Saraiva Bringing Back Cocaine Couture?
Model Down: Fresh Face Carolina Saraiva Faceplants on the Way into Vanity Fair’s Latest Party
Coke-alina: Brazilian Bombshell is Strung Out at High Profile Event
She was sure the tabloids would have their think pieces on the health of supermodels and their drug usage by sunrise. She didn’t bother with the coke rumors anymore. It’s not like there wasn’t validity to them, really. Lina wasn’t doing coke, but she was one of the few.
“To your left, Carolina,” one photographer called out, stirring from her daydream. Lina whipped her head around, hair cascading down her back, and shot the man a wide, dimpled smile. More cheers erupted. For once, Lina was glad for them; they confirmed to her that her mask---the metaphorical one---had yet to slip on the outside. The real one, large and feathered, actually did seem to be sliding down her nose. She charmingly pushed it back up, eliciting laughs from the eager-to-please paps swarming her.
A strong hand made its way to her mid-back: Darren, her security. She leaned back into it, grateful for the support. He took her small handbag from her without even a glance. She smiled her first genuine smile in a long time. She was prone to losing every bag she carried. With a half-hearted wave behind her, she made her way through the large, iron wrought doors.
The opulence of celebrity events still floored her, even years into her career. There was a time, so distant in her memory, when she would have slashed, bitten, and crawled through fire to be in this position. Now, she would give anything to leave.
Where else would she go, then? There were times before that she missed the tranquility of her family’s ranch in Florida, or the warm mornings in their family home in Sao Paulo.
These days, Lina couldn’t think of anywhere she wanted to be.
Darren’s hand dropped from her back, causing her to stumble at the loss of support. She surveyed the scene, eager to find a back door or balcony for fresh air. That was one thing New York lacked.
Instead, her eyes caught a tall figure, adorned in pale pinks and gold jewels, with a dress whose hoop must’ve added at least two feet to her radius.
Behind that bejeweled mask, the woman’s eyes caught Linas.
“Oh, my goodness, you lady of the night!” Gigi exclaimed, shuffling as fast as she could through the crowd to grab Lina’s hands. They both looked down to examine her dress. The blackish blue, corseted, tulle ballgown was vintage and, for once, Lina couldn’t remember the designer. The silhouette was historical, remanent of Victorian style pieces. Alongside the dramatic, feathered mask, she was reminiscent of a ghost. She laughed to herself. How fitting.
Mustering up her most genuine smile, she said, “You look like a princess!” Gigi smiled at that. Lina really meant it. Gigi was always happy, it seemed. She was more human than any other girl she’d met in the industry.
They looked around the room, startled as the chandeliers shut off dramatically. A sort of eerie light filled the room from some other source. It was as if there was a nightclub in the 1800s.
“It feels like I left 2014 the moment I got here,” Gigi whispered. Lina was inclined to whisper, too, with the atmosphere changing so quickly.
Before she got the chance, deafening bass filled the room, shaking the floor. Gigi waved in apology as she was pulled by faceless hand back into the crowd. Lina could have thrown up right there. Her eyes set on the bar, she pushed her way through the crowd.
Sweat seemed to fog up the room, humidity surely ruining her freshly blown out hair. Each time she found a pathway through the gyrating bodies, an arm or leg or ass threw itself in her way. The room that seemed endless when she first walked in was no larger than a corridor now. Worse, a coffin. She was panting. Another woman stepped back into her path. Lina threw her hands out towards her, shoving her back into her dance partner who was clearly on another planet. She heard a distant ‘augh’ but could not find it within herself to care. She was having a hard time finding anything within herself. She couldn’t remember the last time she ate something.
The bar came into view, or really, the crowd the engulfed the bar came into view. She shoved into two men who leaned casually on the counter. A drink appeared in front of her, and she was inclined to take it.
Turning around to lean her back against the cold marble, Lina closed her eyes. She downed the drink and handed her empty glass to one of the men standing beside her, who slid his hand along her lower back. Saliva filled her mouth. Slapping a hand over pursed lips, she ran towards what looked like a bathroom.
She tried to slam the door open, but barely had the strength to push it open. Her steps were uneven. Her head was in the toilet bowl before she even realized she found a stall.
After retching for what felt like an hour, Lina attempted to stand, but her ankles gave out under her. Yelling out in frustration, she slapped her hands on the toilet bowl for leverage.
Hands washed, she leaned on the cool countertop, looking up at herself in the mirror.
Hair frizzed on top, lip gloss everywhere but her lips, darkness beneath her cheekbones that she knew was not from her hour-long stint in the makeup chair---Lina looked in to her eyes, hidden behind the mask, and cried.
The door shot open behind her, followed by a long sigh, followed again by a yelp.
Lina’s head shot back. There was a man behind her. Because she was in the men’s bathroom. She was sure she would vomit into the sink.
“Oh---oh my god. I’m so sorry, I could’ve sworn this was the men’s toilet, Niall that absolute fucking bastard.”
Lina’s head whipped back just before bile filled her mouth.
“Holy shit, are you alright?”
Lina took a deep breath. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you.” She had never sounded less fine in her goddamn life. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…” her hand swiped around the counter for a handbag that wasn’t there.
Fucking Darren.
“No, no, why don’t I go, yeah?” the man said, coughing to cover his laugh. “I think you might need…to be here more than me.”
“Nope, nope, I’ll be going,” Lina whined.
“Actually, why don’t I just grab someone for you. You come here with anyone?”
Lina could not remember Darren’s name at the moment.
“How much have you had to drink? Or have you…done something else?”
“Are you asking me if I’ve done coke tonight, Harry Styles?”
Lina turned to look at him fully. He wore an all-black suit with satin flower details along the lapels. His mask was simple, matching the detailing of his jacket. Behind it, green eyes above pink-flushed cheeks looked her up and down, stepping back as if to avoid another onslaught of vomit.
“No. I mean, yeah, sure, if you have, but I don’t mean to assume anyth---”
“No. I have not. Why does everyone think I do coke?”
Harry looked at her once again.
“I mean---”
“I am not typically puking in men’s restrooms.”
A laugh. “Never said you were, Carolina.”
Oh.
“You know my name.”
“Hard not to. Can’t escape your face if I fucking tried.”
“You want to escape my face?”
“Never said that either, darling.”
Oh.
“I think maybe I should go.”
Harry’s teasing smile became a grimace of concern. “At least let me get you a cab.”
Lina shook her head, the room shaking with it. “No, no, if you leave, they won’t let you back in.”
“I’m Harry Styles. Sure, they will."
“How presumptuous.”
A shrug. “Just saying.”
Lina swipes, once again, for the handbag that isn’t there. Harry’s eyes widen slightly. “Go find whatever bastard you were moaning about earlier. I’ll be fine.”
“Come on---” But Lina had already pushed passed him. Back into the sea of people. Back into that coffin of a room.
a/n: please let me know if you want to see more of this!! I will write it anyway but I'm curious lol
part 2 here!!
#harry styles#harry styles x oc#harry styles x original character#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles series#harry styles au#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fic#harry edward styles#frat!harry styles#frat boy harry#masks series
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oooooof!!! nothing like a little bit of enemies to lovers to finish off the night 🥵🥵
addicted in the afterglow
DATE: NOVEMBER 26, 2022
summary: the aftermath of the birthday party left you in shambles. you couldn’t do anything, especially get yourself off, but asking harry to fuck again would be insanely embarrassing. no matter how badly you needed it. what you didn’t know was that harry needed it just as bad.
requested: yes ;), but i didn’t do this exactly, so i will add the rest in the next part!
words: 5.7k :)
warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [light bondage, hickies, slight nipple play, fingering, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, mild degrading/name-calling], small daddy kink (mentioned twice), protected sex, and dirty talk [you know how i love it]!!), language, and so much dialogue ;)
note: part two!! here is my masterlist. and to note, the consent is not clearly stated, it is only implied. ALWAYS ASK FOR CONSENT!
——
ONE WEEK LATER
This week’s Hangout was at Rina’s house and everyone showed up tonight. Work and school didn’t interfere, so no one was really stressed out either. Except for you.
You couldn’t stop thinking about last week at the birthday party. You couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. And he was going to be here.
Continuar a ler
#i just found this and--- well#i cant wait to read it from the start asap#harry styles smut#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fic#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#frat boy harry#frat!harry styles#harry styles the album#harry styles fine line#fine line#watermelon sugar#harries#fine line era#hslot#hslot2#harry’s house#tpwk#treat people with kindness#addicted in the afterglow
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cherry | h.s
summary: drippin’ on me till my feet are wet
loosely based off this request [thank u thank u mwah]
cw: smut18+ fingering, slight exhibitionism, edging, jealousrry, alcohol usage, fratrry, fem!reader
word count: approx 3.4k
| frat boy harry please save us
masterlist
YN tasted like cherries.
A cherry vodka sour, sweet with a hint of something sharper underneath—a taste that lingered, his very own narcotic, drawing him in sip by sip like a whispered invitation. The scent clung to her, rolling from her lips in quiet, careless breaths that brushed his cheek whenever she leaned too close. By the end of the night, he was close enough to catch the faintest trace of cherry chapstick, a soft tease of sweetness he was certain she left there just for him.
She stood in the neon glow at the edge of the room, light bleeding over her skin, casting her in shades that looked as alive as they did unreal. The dim purple and blue fractured over her collarbone, slipped across her cheekbones, hiding as much as it revealed. He watched her, and she knew it. Her gaze drifted past him, lingering just long enough for him to wonder if she'd felt his stare prickling across her skin. And when she smiled, he swore there was something in it meant just for him—a fleeting thing, a glimmer of knowledge that she understood exactly what she was doing to him.
Harry could feel the weight of it, her laughter bubbling like carbonation, fizzy and sharp as it hit his ears and curled around him, intoxicating as any drink in his hand. She was just out of reach, always a breath away, with eyes that seemed to say she knew every game he was trying to play, and she’d play them better.
He couldn’t remember the taste of his own drink anymore, something else sat on his tongue–bubbling from the top of his throat, igniting his chest.
Her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she smiled, her solo cup discarded from her hands and onto the broad shoulders of the man standing in front of her. She’d glance Harry’s way every few minutes, eye locking with his before turning back to the man, laughing at something she definitely didn’t find funny.
Yeah, she knew exactly what she was doing.
His fingers gripped his drink, watching as she tilted her head to the side, her tapping against his shoulders like a spell. And then–there it was. Her eyes flickered to Harry, a spark of something familiar dancing on the edge of her pupils, flashing just long enough to say, are you watching?
He was.
The man leaned in closer, his large hand resting against her hip while the other gripped the edge of the table behind her—caged in. Harry wanted to almost laugh. She wasn’t blocked in, no, the exact opposite. Men melted like ice in her palms, she was the ringmaster here. She played it perfectly, the tilt of her head, trailing her fingers up his neck as if she was spinning a web.
“Your cans getting crushed.” Came Mitch’s voice, low and amused as he nodded toward the aluminum Harry white knuckled.
He exhaled, easing his fingers around the drink as he took a shallow sip, a wry smile slipping onto his lips. “She’ll be the death of me.”
Mitch laughed, eyeing Harry over the brim of his beer bottle touching his lips. “Only ‘cause you let her.”
He let himself lean into the wall behind him, the cool surface doing nothing to temper the heat curling beneath his skin. Mitch was right. He let her—let her pull him under like a wave, let her play the part of his tormentor. His eyes held onto her, his cherry, wrapped in a game she orchestrated with the precision of a maestro. The room spun around her, and he was caught into her gravity, helpless to orbit at a distance.
Their gaze held each other every time she would flicker her eyes over. It was filthy, as if they were fucking, front and center of everyone. She pinned him in place with only a glance, that sly, knowing look. She lifted herself onto the table behind her, her laughter like a melody meant only for him. The music thumped against the walls, drowning out everything else, but it didn’t matter—he’d hear YN over it all, every soft breath, every little sound. She was everywhere in his senses, threading through his veins.
The man stood between her legs, saying something in her ear that Harry couldn’t make out, but it was enough to make her lips quirk into a smile—one he knew wasn’t for him. His hand tightened around his drink again, crushed aluminum forgotten, cold liquid seeping through his fingers. It was her doing; she knew exactly how to turn him into this, into a version of himself that held back only because the tension was a part of the thrill.
Another laugh escaped her lips, and he saw her bite down on it, that little nibble on her bottom lip that drove him mad. YN threw her head back, letting her hair fall around her shoulders like a heavy curtain, exposing the curve of her neck. A pulse beat just under her skin, one he knew he could feel if he got close enough.
And for a second, he thought he saw her crack.
The man’s hand slid further up her thigh, threatening to slip underneath the fabric of her small skirt. But her gaze drifted, almost instinctively, back to Harry. It was quick, so quick he almost convinced himself he imagined it, but Harry knew better. There was a question in that flicker, a question he knew was coming since the beginning of the night, are you going to let him keep touching me?
It wasn’t fair, none of it was, the way she played him like this, weaving in and out of his focus until he couldn’t remember the start of his own intentions. Every step he took toward her, its like she took one back, luring him deeper. He hated that she knew he’d follow, hated how she left him chasing shadows.
A hand landed on his shoulder, snapping him back, Mitch—although he was unsure if he wanted to be pulled back into reality or not. He watched him with a look that was half-amused, half-concerned. “You keep staring, mate, you’re gonna turn to stone.” He teased, though his eyes lingered on Harry’s hand, still clenched white around his drink.
He forced a laugh, hollow, strained. “Maybe I already have.”
The words barely left his mouth before he saw her slip off the table, her admirer’s hand slipping from her waist and interlacing his fingers with hers—as if they were heading out.
Something in him snapped. Before he knew what he was doing, he was pushing off the wall, letting his half-emptied can of beer clammer onto the wooden floor beneath him. He weaved through the crowd with a single minded purpose, ignoring the curious glances sent his way. Mitch muttered something behind him, but it didn’t register—couldn’t register.
The guy with her hadn’t noticed him yet, too absorbed in whatever he muttered against her cheek. Harry saw her roll her eyes in amusement, stroking whatever ego the man had. Her gaze then slid sideways, catching sight of Harry. Her expression didn’t falter—if anything, her smile grew, just the tiniest bit, a flash of triumph dancing in her gaze as she held his.
The man finally noticed, his grin faltering as he slipped his hand from hers, turning to face Harry who was close enough to see uncertainty flicker over his face, a split second before he masked it with bravado.
“H,” she mumbled, her voice warm, as if she were greeting just an old friend. She didn’t step away from the two, only allowing herself to lean against the table once again with her arms crossed over her chest.
He took another step forward, a smile curving his lips, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Enjoying yourself?”
YN arched a brow, her gaze playful, almost defiant. “I was. Are you?”
The guy shifted awkwardly beside them, looking at them with a growing wariness, as if he wasn’t entirely sure what he put himself into. Harry spared him a glance, a cool, knowing look that revealed something simmering underneath. It was answer enough.
His patience was fraying, thinning out thread by thread that she unraveled.
He placed his hand on the table she leaned onto, the tip of his thumb brushing against the fabric of her skirt. He was close enough for her to feel his cool breath, close enough for him to smell the faint hint of cherry lingering on her lips. His eyes burrowed into the man that still stood there as he whispered, low enough for only her to hear, “why are y’playing games with me?”
Her smile sharpened, and there was something dark, something electric, sparking in her irises as she looked toward him. She shifted her weight, turning her shoulders into him. His eyes still bore into the man’s, his jaw clenched.
He seemed nice enough, sure, but he didn’t fucking care when it came to her.
God, she ruined him. And Harry took it gladly, falling to his knees and worshiping her.
“Who says I’m playing?” She barely blinked, her words a challenge, a dare he couldn’t ignore. And then she reached out, brushing a single finger along the ink on his forearm, trailing it down with a touch that was featherlight, maddeningly subtle. “Or maybe,” she breathed, her lips a head-turn away, “you just don’t like that we’re not playing by your rules.”
His eyes finally flickered to hers, it was all he could do to hold himself steady. The guy beside them cleared his throat awkwardly, muttering something about getting another drink and slipping away into the crowd, clearly catching the drift.
Harry didn’t care, no. He’d claim her right now, in front of everyone, if she let him.
They ignored him, nothing more than a forgotten piece of her performance—a discarded prop, now that Harry was here, close enough to feel the heat of her skin and that slow, steady rise and fall of her breath.
“You don’t have to keep doing this.” He said lowly, laced with an edge he couldn’t quite hide. “Pretending you don’t want it.”
Her smile was slow, spreading across her face with a satisfaction that bordered on wicked. She pushed up onto her toes, lips brushing his ear as she whispered, “Maybe I like seeing what it does to you.”
Her words wrapped around him, drawing him in, filling him with a reckless sort of need, one he’d tried to bury, tried to ignore. But she’d brought it to the surface, peeling him apart layer by layer until he was bare before her, all pretense stripped away,
“Careful.” He warned, his voice a rumble, shifting on his weight to place his free hand on the other side of the table, caging her in. His hand slipped up her thigh, past her skirt, his fingertips slipping underneath the fabric of her panties and gripping the bare skin of her hip. “Or I’ll show you exactly what it does, right in front of everyone.”
Her gaze flickered down, lingering on the sharp line of his jaw, her own pulse quickening beneath his touch. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, a smirk tugging at her lips. “His name is Mateo.” She murmured, her lips brushing against his chin, just beneath his bottom lip. “He was gonna take me upstairs.”
He didn’t say anything, he only tightened his jaw, slipping his fingers inward just barely, tracing the lace of her panties.
She let out a breathy giggle, “seem a little tense.” She mumbled against his skin, her voice teasing, silk-wrapped around a blade. Her smile was innocent, close-lipped and coy as she leaned her head away from his mouth, but her eyes betrayed her, dark and hungry. “Something on your mind?”
“I think you like it.” His voice was rough, sharpened. The tip of his index finger slipped underneath the gusset of her panties, tracing down her folds that were already slick with arousal. “Seeing me like this.”
Her breath hitched, her eyes finally averting from his to the crowd over his shoulder. Everyone was enveloped in their own words, nursing solo cups of vodka or pupils wide with some sort of substance. She could feel his finger, the way it sat right at her entrance. He was teasing her, she knew it. She looked at him again, only seeing a man completely unraveled before her.
Just like she wanted.
“Said he wanted to hear me scream his name.”
He eased his finger into her, knuckle deep. He watched through half-lidded eyes the way her forehead creased in pleasure, the way cherry fell from her breath. He curled his finger upward before slowly pulling out, a sigh escaping her lips. “What was his name?” Harry breathed, his lips against her temple.
Her eyebrows furrowed, scanning the people behind him again. In that moment, she was grateful the table was tucked into the corner of the room, an afterthought unless someone was looking for it. “Mat–”
He pumped into her again, this time adding his middle finger, her velvety walls fluttering around his digits. Her hands gripped the edge of the table, her spine straightening.
“Your cunt was soaked before I even touched you.” He spat, his voice low behind the music. His fingers were slow, teasing, teetering on the edge of her resolve. “Don’t think he did that for you.”
Her chest rose as she drew a breath, deep, silencing. Her eyes found his ways back to his, so dark she could see herself in the reflection of them. A knot tightened in her belly, a pressure building between her thighs before his movements stilled.
His fingers remained, unmoving as he knit his eyebrows together, watching a silent desperation dance upon her features. “Who got you like this?” He murmured, pressing a kiss into her forehead. She clenched around him, drawing a chuckle that emitted from his chest. “Say it, YN.”
“You.” She breathed. Of course he did, no one else could make her feel this way.
Her effort to hold back her moans were poor, soft squeaks tumbling from her mouth as Harry pumped his fingers in and out—the wet sound of being finger-fucked only audible between the two of them.
“You seem tense, baby.” He echoed, pressing a kiss against her cheekbone, soft, barely there. “Something on your mind?”
She raised her hand toward his shoulder, balling the fabric in her hands as she struggled to stay quiet. His knuckles pounded against her pussy selfishly, a sick sense of pride spreading around his chest. “Fuck, H. Just like that.”
He could feel the way she fluttered around him, the way she was so close to coming just from his fingers.
But, he smirked, pulling his hand from her panties, her arousal glistening under the neon lights. A whimper fell from her lips, her shoulders falterning, a frustration bubbling over. His other hand sat on her bare knee as he took the smallest step backward, bringing those two fingers to his lips, licking the tip of them like he swiped them through a sweet dessert.
His lips were slick as he leaned back in, kissing her. Her legs tightened around his own as she tasted herself on him, the heat between her thighs growing unbearable.
And he smiled into it, biting her lip as he pulled away. A warmth settled in his tummy, he felt like he could float—
happy that he could taste cherries again.
#harry styles#harry edward styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles writing#harry styles x reader#harry styles concept#harry styles au#frat boy harry#fratrry#jealousrry#jealous harry#harry styles smut
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Teenage Dirtbag*
Summary: The one where Harry's popular, cool, and everything you aren't. And maybe you want to keep him your dirty, little secret.
Word Count: 5.5k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, gag, exhibitionism if you squint, fratrry, not suitable for Ramadan!
“Okay, next question. What is the Albedo Effect?”
“27.”
“Harry, come on.”
“What?”
“I need an answer.”
“That is an answer. Maybe not to this question, but it’s an answer to some question.”
Your expression falls flat as you toss a piece of popcorn at him. “H, seriously.”
“What?”
“We’re supposed to be studying.”
“We are.”
“No, actually studying.” You toss another piece at him, which he catches in his mouth. “Harry—"
“The Albedo Effect is the reflectivity of the Earth’s surface,” he finally says before grinning smugly. “There. Happy?”
“Mm.”
“Since I got it right, do I win a kiss?”
“No. You win another question,” you say before switching to the next notecard. “Okay, what is the average temperature of the Earth’s surface?”
“27.”
“Harry.”
He laughs before he’s reaching across the bed to grab the stack of notebooks, cards, and books all over your lap. Effortlessly discarding of them while leaning toward you to ghost his lips over yours. “59 degrees Fahrenheit.”
Your lashes flutter. You want to argue. Want to fight him and demand your things back. But it’s hard when he’s this close. “Um…right.”
He smiles, mouth dangerously tempting as it dances along the curve of your jaw. “Give me another.”
“I…” You swallow. “I can’t. You stole my cards.”
“Oh, did I? Oops.”
“You’re mean.”
“Yeah. But you like me.”
“Not right now.”
“Yes now. Always.”
You huff. “I’m not…I’m not kissing you until we finish studying—”
“Well, I’m not studying until you kiss me.”
“Harry—”
“What, angel?”
You fist his shirt. You mean to push him away and yet somehow, he ends up even closer. “I didn’t invite you over for this.”
“I know.” He smirks again. “This is just a bonus.”
“We agreed to study.”
“We are.”
“Jessica’s gonna be back soon—”
“So?”
“So, you know you can’t be here when she gets here,” you remind him, finally finding the strength to shove him back. “Come on, a few more questions and then we can take a break.”
“You said that a few questions ago,” he argues.
You grab the cards. “Oops.”
Fifteen minutes go by before you finally reach the end of your notes, earning a loud sigh from your study buddy as he flops onto his back in defeat.
“That was awful,” he declares. His head rolls until his eyes find yours. A soft green beneath those long lashes. “You take way too many notes.”
“I like to be prepared,” you pout as you stand and put them back on your desk. “You don’t take nearly enough.”
“Because I have you.”
“Yeah, well…that’s cheating.”
“It’s not cheating if I’m helping you use them.”
You turn around and place your hands on your hips. “You’re annoying, you know that?”
“Yeah.” He sits up and reaches for you. Easily tugging you between his legs as you try—futilely—not to fall for that gorgeous grin. “And yet you keep me around.”
“Mm…for now.”
“For now, huh?” His large hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt and you do nothing to stop him. “You just use me for my cock, is that it? Cause I’m a good fuck?”
Your skin grows warm as you look away. “Stop it, don’t say it like that.”
“What? M’I embarrassing you, pretty girl?” he whispers. He squeezes your sides, palms soft against your stomach. “Which part did it? Cock or fuck?”
You close your eyes and groan. “Harry—”
“What? They’re just words, baby.”
“Yeah, but they’re dirty words.”
He’s grinning again. Arrogant and far too smug. “I’ve seen this pretty mouth do far dirtier things—”
You bury your face in your hands to hide. “Please don’t remind me—”
“Why not? Hm? You don’t wanna remember the way you took me down your throat like a good girl?” He lifts your shirt and presses a gentle kiss just below your belly button. “Or what about the way you scratched your nails down my back as you came? Crying my name until your voice went raw?”
“Harry…”
“What about when I fingered you under the table?” he murmurs, then moves his kisses up your torso. One after the other. Slow. “And you had to bite your cute, little lip to keep from moaning?”
You start to squirm. “H…H, please—”
“What about the time I bent you over that desk—” He nods his chin toward the table in the corner of your dorm room. “—and made you cum so hard, you squirted.”
You make another noise and melt into his touch. They’re good memories, you know that. But they do unspeakable things to your anxiety. Just the thought of what someone might say…the idea of what the two of you have done. You weren’t raised to think or feel so freely and Harry is a master at making you nervous.
You’ve done more with him than you ever have anyone else. More than you imagined you’d ever do. And even if you wouldn’t trade it for the world, you can’t say you really welcome the reminder.
His kisses reach your chest. Naked and bare and begging to be touched. “You can be dirty, too, pretty girl.”
Your hand finds his hair. Fingers sweeping through his soft curls that are normally restrained by some sort of beanie or bandana. “H…”
He hums. He knows he’s embarrassing you. But you suppose that’s why he does it.
The small room falls silent, save for the gentle sounds of his kisses as they move toward your breast. His tongue is dangerously close and you know if he gets his way, you’ll never get anything else done.
However, just before those pretty pink lips can make contact, you hear the sound of your roommate’s voice down the hall. Loud enough to startle you and pull you out from between his legs.
Quickly, you’re tugging your shirt back down and grabbing his hand to lead him to the window. Nearly shoving him out onto the fire escape before he’s even had a chance to catch his breath.
“Go,” you whisper as you toss his flannel at him. “Hurry.”
“You know, as much as I like being your dirty little secret, you know she’s gonna find out eventually,” he says while dipping beneath the window frame until he’s completely out of the room.
“I know. But today is not that day.”
Once you’re sure she won’t see him, you get ready to close the curtains. But you’re stopped by his large hand slipping around the back of your neck as he yanks your mouths together. Finally getting the kiss he so desperately wanted.
“You’re still coming to the party this Friday, yeah?” he murmurs against your lips.
You kiss him back just once before you’re shoving at him again. “We’ll see,” you call.
He winks.
With that, the window slams shut, and he disappears into the darkness. Right as Jessica slips inside the room and begins to tell you about her incredibly long day.
And every trace of Harry has gone.
“Ten minutes. Just ten minutes. And if we hate it, we can leave.”
“All right, fine,” you agree, begrudgingly following your friend into the large, familiar house that sits a few miles outside of campus. “Ten. But if I get a single drink spilled on me…I’m out.”
“Deal.”
You laugh as Jess throws her arm around your shoulders to lead you inside, shoving past the group of college students already gathering in the living room.
Every inch of the house is packed full of people. The music is loud, the smell of weed is strong, and a lively game of cup pong is being had down the hall. Truth be told, this scene always tends to catch you off guard. No, this isn’t your first party. But you were raised in a world and in a home where drugs and alcohol were never present.
You don’t mind being around them or watching people participate, but the concept is still rather foreign to you. Even if Harry’s presence in your life is beginning to change that.
Speaking of, you can’t help but search for him as Jessica drags you from room to room. You imagine he’s around somewhere. After all, this is his frat house, and you’ve never known him to miss a party.
But with the football game happening tomorrow night, you wonder if he’ll be out practicing or if he’ll be here with his teammates, pre-gaming.
You catch a glimpse of his red, backwards baseball cap as you’re leaving the kitchen. He’s across the house, clad in a black, graphic t-shirt and skinny jeans, leaning against the wall as he talks to one of his friends.
He’s nodding along to something they’re saying, taking slow sips of whatever’s in his solo cup while lazily looking around.
And that’s when he finds you.
Even with all these people, you feel like the only two in the room. And you catch the way he smiles. A soft, secret smirk meant just for you. And a gleam in his eye as he takes another sip and returns to his conversation.
He’s glad you’re here and honestly, you think you are, too.
“Oh, Zack, there you are!” Jessica suddenly exclaims before she’s yanking you toward one of the guys on Harry’s team. “Zack, this is the friend I was telling you about.”
A bit confused, you and Zack exchange a nod as your roommate begins the excited introductions.
“This is the guy I wanted to set you up with,” she whispers under her breath before straightening up. “So, uh, Zack! You’re single, right?”
Even more surprised, Zack blinks as his attention drifts to you. He hesitates, and for just a moment, you wonder if he recognizes you.
This isn’t the first time you’ve been in this house. And it’s not the first time you’ve met Zack. However, you and Harry have been rather diligent about keeping your visits a secret, even from the other boys that live here.
Still, Zack almost caught you once when you were forced to hide in the shower as he brushed his teeth. And even though he didn’t seem to notice, Harry mentioned that he did see the earrings you accidentally left behind. The same earrings he proceeded to tease Harry about for the next week.
And the same earrings you’re wearing now.
But, if he’s begun to put two and two together, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he shakes his head. “Nah, not really. I’m kind of seeing Annie. I guess.”
You smirk. “You guess?”
“I mean, we’re fucking,” he argues. “But, like…I wouldn’t say we’re together. But she would. I don’t know. But she’d be fucking pissed if I went out with someone else.”
To your surprise, Zack seems to be covering for you. Because you happen to know Annie is actually seeing Derek. She and Zack never got past the drunk-fuck phase, but it seems Jessica doesn’t realize the lie being told. That, or she’s lost interest.
“Oh, boo,” she pouts before turning to you. “Well, I tried. Sorry, babe.”
You laugh. “More than all right. I’m…I’m gonna go use the bathroom and maybe look for some water. I’ll meet you here in a bit?”
“Yes! Text me! Or call me. Or…just yell my name really loud,” she says, already slipping into the next room. “Whenever you wanna go, we will, okay? Seriously.”
“Got it,” you call. And with that, the two of you split. Leaving you to look for the only man you really care to see.
He’s no longer talking to his friend and doesn’t seem to be in the lower part of the house. So, you make your way to the next floor. Shoving past couples making out on the staircase and groups doing blow in the bathroom.
He might be in his room, although that’s perhaps a little too obvious. You still aren’t ready for people to know that the two of you are…well, whatever you two are. And you can’t imagine he is, either. Not considering his reputation and the other girls he’s been with before.
Compared to them, you’re just…you.
Swallowing your own disappointment, you continue down the hall in search of him when a large hand suddenly wraps around your upper arm and yanks you into a bedroom.
You aren’t surprised that it’s him. You aren’t even surprised that he’s brought you back to his room. You are, however, rather confused by the giddy grin on his face.
“You came,” he whispers before he’s shoving you against the closed door and kissing you hard. “Been waiting all fucking night to see you.”
You’re breathless. You always are when you’re with him, but this…now. His kiss, his touch, his voice. The sultry way he speaks that goes straight to the place between your thighs.
“Missed you,” he says. He sucks on the spot below your ear. “God, I really fucking missed you, angel. You have no idea.”
“You saw me this morning,” you remind him. “And for lunch in your car.”
“S’too long,” he argues. “You don’t know what you do to me, baby.”
You grin. Even if you know he’s merely being cute, you can’t help but believe him. “Yeah, okay.”
“I mean it. Besides, you think I wanna watch Zack fucking hit on you all goddamn night?”
You lean back. “You saw?”
“Course I fucking saw. Could hear that shit-eating grin from outside,” he huffs before he’s kissing you again, as if to prove a point. Either to you or to himself. “But he wouldn’t if you’d just let me take you on a proper date.”
“H…”
“Yeah, I know.” His kisses get softer. “I know, I’m sorry.”
“No, I…I get it,” you sigh against his cheek. “I just…it’s hard—”
He takes your face between his hands and makes you look at him. “I know, angel. M’not pushing, I promise. I’ll do whatever you want me to.”
You squeeze his wrists and smile. You sometimes find yourself surprised by how willing he is to be seen with you. You aren’t sure why, but you always assumed he’d be ashamed. That he’d be the one to want to hide. To lock you away and keep your rendezvous a secret.
And maybe you like it this way because you’re afraid. Because you’re worried that once he sees how odd the two of you look together, he won’t want you anymore. That the relentless teasing and comparisons will drive him to end things.
And you’ll be devastated.
Perhaps sensing where your mind has gone, Harry resumes his work on your throat, efficiently distracting you. You happily relinquish your overthinking to him and his intentions, and it feels good. You used to be scared of being touched, of being loved. But it’s becoming easier with him. A routine you wouldn’t trade for the world.
He begins to pull you toward his bed. It’s made for once, which you have to admit impresses you. Harry doesn’t tend to devote his time to things he doesn’t think matter. Like cleaning his space, taking notes, or worrying about his classes. Somehow, he manages to pass every semester, keeping his spot on the football team, while you struggle to keep up even with all the time in the world.
Half the time you suggest studying together, it’s because you’d actually like his help.
“Wait…wait, Har,” you murmur as he sits onto the mattress and begins to pull you in a straddle over his thighs. “Wait, not…not when you’ve been drinking—”
“Haven’t,” he exhales against your mouth. “S’just Sprite. Coach doesn’t let us drink before a game.”
Almost relieved, you lift a brow. “But he doesn’t mind a wild party?”
He smirks. “Technically, we’re not supposed to do that either. But…I kind of live here, so…”
“Ah.” You dip down and press your lips to his softly. “Then I guess you just don’t have a choice, huh?”
“Nope.” He moves his hands to your waist, subtly grinding your body over his until you both groan. “Besides. I’d much rather be here with you than down there with them.”
“Mm. That’s the right answer,” you tease as he laughs and slips his fingers under your dress.
You know this dance by now. You even enjoy it when Harry’s at the lead. He knows what he’s doing, even if you don’t. And he knows just how to teach you. Show you. Guide you.
You take a deep breath and let yourself submit. Let his hands roam, his thighs flex. Let his mouth travel down your neck and to the curve of your shoulder. He slips the strap down until he has more room and then he moves for your chest. Hungry kisses meant to devour you.
“My pretty girl,” he whispers, tongue licking a stripe along the top of your breast. “Wore this just to torture me, didn’t you?”
Your lashes flutter. “Thought…thought it would be easier.”
“Easier?” He glances up, smirk devious. “You wanted me to have easy access to your pretty pussy?”
The vulgar language brings a fervent heat right to your face. You glance away out of habit, but he doesn’t let you this time. Instead, he pinches your chin tight between his fingers and forces your attention back.
“Is that right, angel?” he asks again, firm.
You swallow. “…yes.”
“Mm. Good girl,” he mumbles before moving his hand to your tit. Squeezing it gently while wrapping his lips over your nipple. “Or maybe you’re my naughty girl tonight. Yeah? Wearing something so sinful. Just for me.”
You nod quickly as your nails scratch down his scalp. “Just for you.”
“Mhm. Not Zack.”
“No. No, not Zack.”
He simpers at the sound of your breathless whines. Enjoying the way your hips roll against his. The way your naked thighs feel against his clothed ones. “Gonna let me take care of you, baby? Let me have a little taste?”
Your stomach flips. Harry has introduced you to a world of pleasure you never knew possible, but you still can’t deny that it makes you feel vulnerable. The way your body is put on display for him. Accessible to his tongue, his hands, his…
You close your eyes and force a nod. You just won’t think about it. You’ll let him have his taste and then he’ll start. You understand the science behind it. Your body needs to be properly lubricated before he can begin. And it’s not exactly a step you care to skip, even if it does make you nervous.
He grins at your reaction before he’s leaning back onto the bed and dragging you up toward his face, that bright red hat falling off in the process.
He’s mentioned this position before. Apparently, it’s his favorite, but it certainly isn’t one you’re used to. You don’t understand the mechanics. How you’re meant to surrender control but also keep from crushing his pretty face beneath your weight.
“Angel,” he calls, pulling you back. “What did I say last time, hm?”
“I…I know, I just…” You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you—”
“You won’t,” he promises yet again. “You can’t. I know what I’m doing, yeah? Trust me. Just let me do this, I’ve got you.”
And you know that he does. So, surrendering your inhibitions, you let him place you just where he wants before he nods at you to pull your underwear to the side.
You do. Fingers shaking as you drag the damp fabric away and present yourself to his tongue. You want to look away. Want to hide from the growing look of hunger in his eyes, but he’s already sucking on you before you can.
And once he starts…things don’t seem so bad.
His tongue is magic. His lips are divine. Even his hands are wonderful with the way they hold you still.
You think you could spend a lifetime against his mouth. Live here, die here. Do anything and be anything he wanted so long as he never stopped.
“Doing so good for me, pretty girl,” he says after a moment, and you almost miss it over the faint thumping of music outside his room. “You okay?”
You nod, fingers back between his curls as you brace yourself. “Yes…yes, I’m…I’m all right. Am I…am I too—”
“No,” he says simply. “No, you’re perfect. Don’t move. M’having so much fun.”
And you don’t doubt that he is. His eyes are closed and he’s feasting on you like he’s been starved his whole life. His entire face is between your folds, licking, sucking, nipping. Wet sounds that are somehow louder than the noise outside.
You can’t help the way you groan. The way you say his name and shake in his hands. It’s too much and you’re still unsure how to handle so much ecstasy.
But he knows. And he keeps you planted on his tongue until you’ve nearly soaked his entire face. And then…he stops. Seconds before you can find that sweet release and you gasp as he pops off and scoots you back.
“What…what did I do?” you pant.
He laughs while he sits up, cupping your cheek in his palm before pulling you forward for a kiss. “Nothing,” he whispers, and the taste of you on his lips makes your insides twist. “I told you, you’re perfect. I just have something else in mind.”
“Oh.” Your fingers twist together. “Do you…do you want me to…?”
He smiles again then shakes his head. “Not this time, pretty girl. You know I don’t always expect that, right? I don’t eat you out just so you’ll suck me off.”
“I…I know.”
“Good. I eat you out because I fucking love it.” Another kiss. “And not just to get you wet.”
You feel your features scrunch, the urge to hide much stronger. “I know.”
“And I don’t want you to forget. I love watching you take me down your throat, but only when and if you want to. Tonight, I thought we could maybe try something we haven’t yet.”
“Oh…”
His eyes settle on yours. “I want you to ride me.”
Your lips part. “You…oh.”
“We’ve talked about that before, yeah?” He sweeps his thumb across your cheek. “About if you think you’d be comfortable?”
“Yeah, we…yeah. I…I don’t mind. I just…I don’t know…”
“I know,” he murmurs. “But I’ll show you, hm? We can just try it and see how you feel. And if you don’t like it, we can do something else.”
It’s a good plan. A solid plan, and even if you’re unsure, you can’t help but feel excited. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeats happily before scooting back toward the headboard. “All right, can you take me out, angel?”
Eagerly, you agree, crawling after him until your fingers find his jeans. Seeing such a massive dick always tends to surprise you, but you find that you feel more confident now than you did before. He’s beautiful, every inch of him. And he seems to love the way you touch him. The way you look at him, admire him.
And that’s your favorite part.
“Good girl,” he coos as you reach inside his boxers to wrap your palm around him. “Not so shy anymore, hm?”
You shake your head, lip between your teeth as you release him from his pants.
He laughs. “I can see that. Can you give me your hand, pretty girl?”
You oblige and he pulls your palm to his mouth before he’s spitting directly in the center. A large wad that sits snugly in your hand before he drops it back down to his cock and nods at you to continue.
You drag the wet substance up and down his rather impressive length until he’s glistening. He’s already quite hard, but your delicate strokes seem to get him the rest of the way. Until he’s standing straight up and nearly leaking.
“Good,” he says again, a tad breathless. “So fucking good at that, you know?”
You smile. “Practice makes perfect.”
“Mhm.” He chuckles. “Then can you show me how good you are at putting me in?”
You nod fervently. The academic overachiever in you is always anxious to prove yourself to him. To show that you’ve learned, you’ve improved. That you’re worthy of his time and his body.
You use one hand to guide him and the other to keep your panties to the side. He, in turn, makes sure to lift your dress high enough that you can both see and the moment his tip makes contact with your throbbing clit, you whimper.
“Shh,” he murmurs. “You’re all right. Go ahead and tap it a couple times, yeah?”
Forcing your pulse to steady, you do. The heavy appendage seems to taunt you as you pat it against your pussy and the sensitive nerves that make your legs shake. But it feels like heaven and even Harry has to take in a labored breath as he watches.
The two of you rarely use condoms these days. You did when you first started, but after getting tested and being assured that you were the only person he was sleeping with, you decided to try just once without.
And you know the risks. Know it’s rather idiotic to tempt fate the way you do. The pill isn’t a guarantee, and you know neither one of you are ready to be parents.
But after feeling him…feeling all of him…you became addicted. Despite your better judgement, you found yourself eager to feel him again. And again. And again.
And now, well…now you don’t think you can go without.
“There you go,” he sighs. “Just like that. S’it feel good?”
“Mm…mhm.”
“Good. Go on, baby, put me in now.”
With his help, you lift up and guide his large head toward your hole. Slowly pushing it in while dropping yourself down.
“Fuck,” he exhales through a groan. “Shit, just like that. You okay? S’it hurt?”
You shake your head. You don’t have the strength to speak.
“Okay. Keep going.”
You do. A steady pace that seems to torture you both until the whines and cries slip out before you can stop them.
“Goddamn, angel,” he grits. “Shit, you feel so fucking good. You still all right? Know what to say if you’re not?”
“Ye—yeah.”
“Attagirl. Okay, baby, I want you to lift up now, yeah? Nice and slow.”
Doing your best not to tremble, you raise back up and feel the way his thick cock seems to stretch you open. The way it travels through your body, making you feel empty without it.
And once you’re near the tip, he pulls you back down, and you start again.
The speed is tediously languid. It almost hurts and the noises tumble from your lips one after the other without pause.
Your thighs burn. Your core burns. Every inch of you seems to be screaming, yet Harry doesn’t break a sweat.
“Doing so good,” he praises again. He pulls at your jaw until you kiss him. “Know it’s hard, but you look so good riding my cock right now.”
You only mewl. Loud and incoherent.
He releases your cheek to reach for something on the nightstand beside him. Something you don’t see through your hazed vision until he begins to unwrap it and bring it to your mouth.
His bandana.
It’s his favorite one, too. The white one, with little back details on it. But you aren’t exactly sure what he expects you to do with it now…until he smirks.
“M’gonna put this in your mouth,” he says before resting it on your lips. “Gotta keep you quiet since I didn’t lock the door. Don’t want anyone to hear you and come lookin’, hm?”
Your eyes widen as you gape at him. “Harry—”
“Sorry. S’just too distracted.” He grins. “Open up, pretty girl.”
Rather excitedly, you obey. Giving him just enough room to slip the fabric between your teeth until you can clamp down and he can fasten it in a knot against the back of your head.
“There you go,” he declares when he’s through. “Now you can be as loud as you want, yeah?”
You nod.
“Mm.” He dips down to start kissing at your chest. “Can you keep going, baby? Or do you need me to take over?”
Your lashes flutter.
“I know,” he coos when he sees the fucked-out expression on your face. “S’hard, isn’t it? My angel’s getting tired, huh?”
Another nod, slower.
“Okay,” he chuckles. He grabs onto your hips and straightens up. “Okay, I’ll fuck you.”
Just like that, he resumes the pace you set. Using every muscle in his thighs and abdomen to fuck his cock up into you and leave you a wilting, blubbering mess.
The poor bandana becomes soaked as he pounds into you. Faster and faster while your body shakes and drool pools at the sides of your mouth.
Your whimpers sound shuddered now. In tune with his fast thrusts and the wet, lewd cacophony of your bodies connecting. Pornographic in nature yet somehow…euphoric.
He sucks your tit back into his mouth and you clutch onto his scalp. Nails scratching at his neck, shoulders, and chest until you feel your orgasm coming up on you once more.
And he feels it, too. Features twisting at the way you clench around him. The way your body draws him in, treats him right. He’s obsessed and he’s told you as much. Even with the level of stamina he possesses, he can never seem to last all that long when it comes to you.
“Fucking hell,” he groans before he’s tightening his hold on your waist. “Shit, s’it feel good? Like being on top, angel?”
You nod and press your forehead to his. Even if it’s rather exhausting, you can feel him in places you couldn’t before. Nudging against your g-spot until you see stars and have to physically fight the urge to cum.
“No, don’t,” he pants, seeming to sense it. “Want you to cum. Right now, baby. Okay? Let me feel you first.”
Even if you wanted to argue, you can’t. The low, graveled instruction goes straight to your cunt and you cum before you can stop yourself. Drenching his cock, his thighs, your thighs. You sway, go limp in his hold. Until you’re slumping against his chest as he fucks you through every second of it.
“There,” he praises, large hand rubbing up and down your back. “God, you’re fucking good at that. Love the way you cum for me. S’fucking heaven.”
You know he’s close. And you know he won’t finish inside you, instead wasting his offering on his stomach or somewhere else.
So, you get an idea. You pull off him as best you can while he hisses and resists the temptation to release inside you before you slip the bandana back out and crawl down his lap.
Then, you take him in your mouth. It only takes two sucks before he’s grabbing at your neck and finishing down your throat. The warm, sticky substance familiar and far too thrilling.
He cums and he cums until you’ve nearly sucked him dry and his tired body melts into the bed.
He whispers your name and fights to keep his eyes open so he can gaze at you. Then, he tugs on you. “Come here.”
He kisses you. Tongue and teeth clashing in a messy exchange, but he doesn’t mind. He loves it. Moans into your mouth and pulls you against his heart until you can both catch your breath.
You revel in the post-orgasm glow. Body’s abuzz and slightly sweaty from the workout. But you wouldn’t trade this ache in your joints for anything.
And you realize you wouldn’t trade him, either.
“You okay?” he murmurs after a moment.
You hum. “Yeah. M’tired.”
“Yeah,” he echoes with a gentle laugh. “It was fun, though, right?”
“Mhm. Very.”
“Think you’ll wanna do it again?”
“Maybe,” you admit. “As long as you do all the work again.”
His laugh is louder this time. “Deal. Or maybe we’ll just have to work out your muscles until you can do it all on your own.”
“Mm…unlikely.”
“But maybe.”
“Maybe not.”
“Doesn’t hurt to try.”
“Might hurt.”
“Yeah. Okay.” He smiles. “Can you stay tonight?”
“I don’t know. Jess might be looking for me.”
“Tell her you’re staying.”
“I can’t.”
“You don’t have to tell her who you’re with.”
“H,” you sigh. “She thinks I’m a virgin prude. If she knows I’m staying, she won’t let it go until she finds out who I stayed with.”
The room falls silent. You feel him sigh. “Yeah, I know.”
You glance up. “I’ll tell her one of these days, I promise. I just…I wanna keep you to myself. Just a little longer.”
His grin splits his face. “Good. Think I might wanna keep you, too.”
He kisses you again. Soft, slow, sensual. Filled with all the words neither of you are brave enough to say out loud. And long enough to leave you breathless.
Until the door opens.
And Zack walks in.
God I love fratrry 😭💞
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What about bf!harry gets hard in public and hes basically using you as a human shield and pulling you into his lap while subtly grinding into you🫣
This is a very fratrry thing to do once they get together tbh
Check out our Patreon!
Warnings- exhibitionism, don’t do stuff like this in public plz, filthy talk
——-
“You don’t know what this fuckin’ dress does to me.” With lips mouthing at her neck, she had to take a deep breath as his handsy palms ran over her stomach and tugged her closer to him. The conversations continued around them but as usual, he only had eyes for her. The obsession becoming unglued as his breath left chills on her skin.
“I think I have some idea. It’s against my ass.” She muttered lowly, taking a sip of some sort of lemon drop concoction which- ugh. Whoever was bartending at this party really shouldn’t give up their day job. “You’re like a feral dog sometimes. Just running around grinding your dick into me.” Her voice was kept down but it was hard not to push back into the slow rocking. The guise was he was moving with the music, but those jeans did nothing to shield her from the feeling of the thick length against her ass.
“So try n’tame me then.” He would really like that. The man had been nearly begging her to go to his room but she’d promised her friends she wouldn’t disappear too quickly. Harry was demanding of her time since they’d gotten together, clingy and slightly annoying but she liked to make him work for it a little bit. For a man who had been slutting it around with whoever he wanted- his words, not hers though it did seem like something she’d said- it felt really nice to know she he liked her that much.
“You’d like it too much.” She sighed, tightening her grip on the red solo cup as teeth nipped over her throat. He was borderline obnoxious with the PDA, but Harry really had no sense of shame when it came to that. Her fingers made the cup crinkle, a betrayal from a longtime friend as it exposed just how much it actually got to her. “Can you behave? For one night?”
“Mmmm… nope.” He sighed against her skin. “M’gonna be annoying and hope you stop caring what other people want so you can come upstairs like you really want to do.” Thankfully he kept his voice down as his hand rubbed over her tummy, exhaling a sigh. “I can’t wait until I get you alone and I get t’bury myself in that tight little cunt. Nice n’snug for me, and I’ll make sure you can feel it in this cute belly.”
Harry knew he had a hold on her that she didn’t let a lot of people see, feeling her neck heat up against his lips as she said his voice in a low warning that she mean absolutely none of. “Harry. Stop it. People are around.”
“And that does nothing but get you to soak those panties. Is it the nasty little thong today? The one you left for me t’wrap around my dick when you went home for the weekend?” He hummed. “Got them nice and sticky. T’be honest, if you’d let me I’d take you over into the corner, nudge your dress up and fuck you just like this.” He kept his hands where they were but his cock rubbed over her ass, giving him some friction. She could feel it throb against her, the lump in her throat thick as he continued to talk. His filthy mouth never did know where or when to quit.
“If you’d let me I’d have you walkin’ upstairs with my load down your thighs. Or your cum all over my fingers. I’d give you anything you’d let me have, honestly. And if you think I can’t tell you’re clenching those incredible thighs together, that I don’t know you’re slick between them and probably makin’ a fucking sloppy messy on your skin, you should think again. I know how much you love when I touch you. Like to growl at me like a little kitten but your body can’t hide from me.”
Y/N couldn’t deny it even if she wanted to. Clenching her jaw she fought the flush working its way over her chest, heat flooding her body as he finally moved a hand from her stomach to turn her face so he could catch her lips.
The lack of shyness from the man had him kissing her deep, unashamed of the wolf whistles and groans from his friends as he kissed her like he owned her mouth. She was reminded of it as his tongue brushed against hers and his thick fingers held her chin in place so he could kiss her how he wanted. He did- god, he really fucking did.
“Get a room!”
Harry broke the kiss with a wicked grin. “Don’t mind if we do.”
#jarofstyles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smut#harry styles imagine#harry drabble#harry styles blurb#harry styles writing#harry writing#frat harry styles#frat boy harry#teenage dirtbag
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I Hate You
𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐛𝐨𝐲!𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲. 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞
wc: 5.4k
“If you don’t stop I’m going to jam that pen through your ear.”
That makes the curly brunette man take his thumb off the button, eyes shifting to give a sidelong glance at you, his mouth slightly agape as he takes in the words.
You had enough of the fingers drumming against the wooden table, the shifting around in his seat constantly, and you definitely had it when he begin clicking his pen away as if you weren’t beside him through this whole class.
“I wanna see you try.” He whispers back, his head turning to smirk at you as his pen now taps against the table gently. Oh, did you want to ring your hands around his neck.
Harry Styles, the man on campus that everyone is friends with and the one that has all the ladies gossiping about. Despite him being known for his social life he also was part of a fraternity. They were popular for throwing the most outrageous parties but also pulling the stupidest pranks throughout the year— you absolutely despised them. Sloppy drinking, chain-smoking, and making themselves look like complete idiots streaking during the schools football games.
So when you walked into your English Lit class and your teacher decided to sit you next to each other for the whole semester, you wanted to claw your eyes out. Every class he would come in and purposely let his bag hit your head, his feet kicking the leg of your chair as his knees would dig into your lower back before taking his seat. At first, you paid no mind to it because it was a tight space to fit in, however when it became an everyday occurrence and his sarcastic smile and fake tone of apologies would start you would just roll your eyes.
But, him sitting next you in class wasn’t the worse thing… It was the fact that your dorm roommate was dating one of his fraternity brothers. So nearly every weekend or event that they hosted, you always managed to get dragged along to have him pick on you.
You didn’t like Harry at all. You didn’t like his stupid curls, his laugh, or tattoos that make him look like a unfinished scrapbook, and you definitely did not like the fact that he stares back at you as if you were a joke.
You squint your eyes at him and press your lips together, your fingers that were pressed into the keys of your laptop curling in on themselves as you resist the urge to strike him.
“Easy there,” He chuckles, his eyes flickering to your balled up fists before turning his head towards the teacher, the grey haired man stands in front of the podium making drastic gestures with his hands. “You wouldn’t hurt me, now would you?” Harry questions, his pen going behind his ear as he closes his laptop and notebook, stuffing it into his bag.
Before you know it, Mr. Dawson is announcing the homework for over the weekend while telling everyone he’ll see them Monday. The seat next to you pushes away from the table, and you feel his feet kick your chair and knees dig into your back. Only making your fists grow even tighter, you plant your feet flat on the carpet and push your chair against his bent legs, that makes a groan escape Harry’s lips as you stand with your closed laptop and bag, eyes staring into each other as you look at him amused.
“You wouldn’t hurt me, now would you?” You mock him before tugging off to the library.
Why couldn’t you have one encounter with him were he wasn’t a complete dickhead.
White mini skirt and matching tube top cling to your skin, the pink cropped leather jacket shifted tightly on your shoulders as your feet tip toe towards the mirror to see yourself. You thought you looked stupid, but Faye thought otherwise.
“You need to dress like this more,” She insisted, her brown eyes wide as they scaled your body. You shook your head and groan.
“Like a joke?” You sigh, your head leaning to the side as you looked at your figure. You were never one to dress in revealing clothes, you loved crewnecks and cargo pants, especially your Converses and Vans.
“Hey!” Faye says while giving you a puzzled look.
“You know what I mean, this stuff looks good on you… not me…” You say, body now turning in the mirror to see your side profile.
You had no choice but to dress as if you were a plastic doll. The Barbie movie just recently came out which made Faye’s boyfriend, Niall, think it would be a good idea to throw a party insisting everyone dress up as if they were in “Barbie’s Dream House”. That’s why you’re standing in the mirror, white opened toed heels and curled hair staring back at you as Faye tried to make you look like Biker Barbie.
“You look hot Y/N, don’t overthink it,” She says while taking your shoulders in her hands and shaking you gently, making you let out a nervous laugh.
She’s right, don’t overthink it, you’ll most likely be surrounded by dim lights and drunken bodies that no one will even notice your change of appearance.
However, despite those words that played over and over again in the back of your head, your thoughts begin to fill as you stepped into the house. Each person you passed by, gazing their eyes over your skin, lazy smiles sent your way while winks would drop other times, and you just simply wanted to disappear.
“Let’s go get a drink,” Faye yells in your ear over the pumping music. You nod your head in agreement and made your way into the familiar kitchen.
“Fancy seeing you here!” The usual Irish voice of Niall calls to Faye as he brings her into embrace. You let a small smile slip on your lips before you see Harry next to him with an amused face.
As Faye and Niall chatted with each other while taking red cups apart to pour liquor in, Harry stepped closer to you; his curls are tossed away behind his ears as he had a sleeveless light blue jean jacket with matching pants on, his tattoos exposed and glistening against the lights.
“You look good for once!” He quips, his red cup knocking against his chest. The smile falls from your lips as you send daggers at him.
“Do you ever shut up,” You say, your eyes tearing away from him and to the red cup that Faye hands you.
“Hey! I was being nice for once!” Harry chimed, lips dropping into a pout as you watch his free hand raise to his chest in hurt. Instead, you ignore him and pay attention to whatever Faye was talking about but that doesn’t last long when you feel a finger poke your hip and you’re glaring back at the tattooed man.
“Am I not Kenough?” He questions, and that only makes you snort as a laugh trails out after, understanding his reference. “There it is,” Harry grins as he takes a drink from his cup. You only roll your eyes and focus back on the previous conversation.
“Whatever,” You mutter while taking a sip of your overly strong drink.
Soon that cup turned to four more, the overthinking thoughts about how embarrassing you thought you looked tonight slipped your mind as you were dancing with the cute boy in your Social Science course, your hands wrapped around the nape of his neck as he runts his hips against your backside.
For once, you were actually happy that you came to the party and drunk more than your normal limit. You were fed up with school and with midterms around the corner, you needed this type of fun. As you felt the room beginning to twist in your version, you turn around in Caleb’s hold and let your hands rest along his chest.
“Tired?” He questions, brown eyes peering down at you as his lips tucked into his teeth. You nodded your head in response, your finger tips feeling over his flannel as you lean into him.
“Let’s go upstairs Kels,” Caleb leans down and whispers but that only makes a frown tug on your lips.
“Kels? I’m Y/N.” You state, tone filled with annoyance that the man you had your eyes on in class had his elsewhere. You feel his head move away from your ear, his eyes raking over your face as a goofy grin begins to spread.
“Oh! Y/N! You look so different… you’re not dressed like a boy, I like it!” Caleb says, only making your stomach twist in disgust.
“Yeah…” You say, small smile replacing the frown as you feel yourself step back from his touch. “I’m just gonna go to the washroom,” You rush, tearing away from his hold and not waiting for his response.
You felt your throat begin to swell as you tried to push your way through the mess of people on the makeshift dance floor. You’re not dressed like a boy. Was he serious? That’s what he thought when he saw you? Even the fact that he called you someone else’s name! You wanted to crawl into your bed and die.
Shouts begin to ring out as the floor vibrates, everyone jumping to the party anthem playing which only makes your exit out of the living room worse. You felt your cheeks heat up and tears at the brim of your eyes, just wanting to go to the bathroom as soon as possible to let them escape.
But just your luck, as the chorus rings through the air the floor boards pound under your heels, you feel cool liquid running from your chest to your stomach. Brown booze dripping on the burrowed two piece outfit and at that point you feel your ears burn, and if you could grow horns out of your head you’re sure they would be there.
Your gaze turns away from your sticky stomach and towards the culprit who spilled it on you, your eyes meeting the familiar green ones who sits next to you in English. As your lips press together and your finger nails leave indents in your skin, you watch Harry’s eyes bulge and his mouth drop in complete shock.
“I— I’m so sorry.. I d—didn’t mean too—“
“I hate you.” You spew, cutting him off and giving him an icy glare. Your body immediately brushing past him and traveling upstairs to get away from the party that you now wished you didn’t attend at all.
Of course, Harry had to be the one to top off this moment and ruin your outfit that you know you’d have to pay Faye back for— because this was definitely not coming out. You could handle his kicking and snarky comments, but draw the line at him completely damaging something that didn’t belong to you.
You were pissed, drunk, and wanted to be buried six feet under; but instead you stomped your way up the stairs and into an empty bedroom.
Looking at yourself in the mirror, you see the stain taking up the white material, only making your eyes press shut as you feel tears begin to trail down your cheeks. This was so embarrassing; first you’re wearing something you wouldn’t ever step out in, you finally have a moment with the guy you’ve been staring at since the beginning of the semester— just for him to say you dress like a boy! And to top it off, now you have a full cup of god knows what all over you. This night sucked.
“Y/N…” You hear Harry’s voice behind the door with a knock. You open your eyes and roll them, throat letting a sigh slip out as you run your fingers against your cheeks, wiping away the tears.
“What.” You say back, turning around to rest your back against the sink.
“I—I’m being so honest with you, I didn’t mean to spill my drink on you, I promise, it was a mistake.” Harry said behind the door, his voice muffled but you can tell for once he actually sounds sincere, but who knows he also could be faking it to make you feel better.
“Sure Harry,” You called back, hand leaning down as you rake your fingers through your hair, the tear streaks drying on your skin and making your cheeks feel tight when you speak.
With surprise you heard the rumble of the door knob and soon is faced with Harry who actually has a sad look written on his features.
“Ever heard of privacy,” You mutter, your eyes tearing away from his and looking at the white tiled floor.
“It’s my bathroom,” Harry responds, only making you suck in your breath and fingers drum against the porcelain sink, not realizing it was his room you escaped too.
“I’m sorry. I’ll leave.” You rush, eyes still down as you break away from your stance and move towards the door. That only makes Harry stand in front of you and block your movements.
“No it’s okay don’t worry, it’s my fault. Believe me Y/N, I really didn’t mean to fuck up your outfit.” He says, genuinely which makes your gaze tear and lock with his. Your breath catches in your throat because for once he doesn’t have a menacing look.
“Okay.” You say, lips being sucked into your mouth as your stare never wavers.
“L—Let me get you a change of clothes,” Harry urges, his feet stepping back as he makes his way out of the bathroom and walk over to his dresser. This makes you trail behind him as your hands tug at the bottom of the dirty skirt riding up.
“Oh spare clothes of the girls you sleep with, yay,” You sarcastically remarked, heels clicking against the floor boards as you followed him.
“Ha ha.” Harry says, his voice serious as he dug into his top drawer and pulled out a plain black tee. That only makes you chew down on your lip, your fingers taking the garment in your hand, eyes running over how big it is compared to your frame.
“Trust me, everyone will be too drunk to remember what people were wearing tonight,” He spoke, both of his hands going to either side of him as he leans against the dresser, and maybe it’s the alcohol in your system but the way he is against the furniture with his jacket opened displaying his tattoos, has your mind forgetting about his treatment towards you over the past few months.
“I figured,” You mumble as you tear the t-shirt away from your chest and your eyes flicker between it and the brunette before you. “Uh.. can you turn around?” You question while beginning to shrug off the pink leather jacket.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Harry scoffs while tearing his tattooed arm off the dresser and letting his hand cover his eyes. You scoff while kicking off your heels and tugging the damp clothing off your skin. “What?” Harry counters, you see his eyebrows push together in his palm as he questions your response.
“I just dress like a boy… that’s all. I bet I’m not exactly the girl you look at…” You mumble, the feeling of the clean fabric running down your skin makes your fingers gaze over it.
“I think you dress cute,” Harry confesses. The compliment making your cheeks heat up and your palms grow with sweat. You really shouldn’t even be glowing from his words. This was the guy who tormented you since September; hitting you with his book bag, giving snarky comments and mean jabs. Why are his words making butterflies erupt in your stomach.
“You’re just saying that, let’s not forget what you said in the kitchen…” You respond, leaning down and picking up the drenched clothing and balling them together. “You can look now.” You state, as you see him put his hand down and give you a bright smile. The way he’s acting so different from what you’re use to, maybe it’s the alcohol in both of your systems.
“You know I was just teasing… but why does it even matter?” Harry ask, that only makes your eyes tear away and look at your polished toes running over each other against the dark hard wood.
“It’s nothing… it’s whatever really,” You sigh, fingers now playing with the ends of his shirt.
“Is that what the guy you were dancing with told you?” Harry asks, only making your head snap up and send him questioning gaze.
“You were watching me?” You inquire. His turn to now dip his head down and avoid your eyes.
“I wouldn’t say that… I just noticed, that’s all.” He says, his head swinging a bit as he lifts himself off the dresser and makes a step towards you, his hand taking the wet clothes.
“Promise I’ll get the stain out,” He remarks, a goofy look on his face and that only makes you smirk.
“Make that promise to Faye, not me.”
“Fuck… She’s gonna have me dead.”
The two of you erupting in drunken laughter at the image of Faye seeing her ruined garments, just knowing the screaming match she’ll have with Harry.
“Why can’t you be like this all the time?” You asked, your hand reaching to your chest as you try to regain your breath.
“You’re the one who hates me,” Harry says giving you a pointed look. “You’re the one who’s mean to me.” You remark your chin tilting as you stare up at him.
“You can’t even blame me,” He smiles while rolling his eyes, his arms crossing over each other and the heat of him radiates onto your body. “You’re cute when you’re mad.” His head leaning down and placing a small peck on your lips.
You were stunned in place, your eyes still open as he continues to place small kisses on your lips. As you leaned in closer to him, his hands tore away from his chest to drop the clothes and hold your hips. What the fuck was actually going on right now? You were really kissing Harry and it felt good— you didn’t want to admit.
The peppering kisses turned into lips syncing onto each other, your eyes now fluttering shut while your hands lie on his inked chest. It felt so wrong but the way his lips tasted of cherry coke and rum, you wanted to get drunk off it.
Deep breathes and needy hands were soon shared between the both, your fingers were now running through the hair on the nape of his neck while his roams your backside. The way his huge hands were pushing your cheeks and shoving you closer to him made you wet.
You pulled away from his lips, a string of saliva linking you too together which makes Harry smirk, his eyes glossy and lips bruised red. You wanted to fuck him so bad.
“You’re a shit kisser.” You remark. His smirk falling as his hands tighten around your ass.
“Shut up,” He mutters before pressing his lips roughly against yours, his fingers slipping deeper to cup your bum, some digits gliding over your heat only making you whimper at the touch.
His tongue tangled with yours as his chest closed the space left between you two. Harry’s weight molding onto you as he forces you to take steps back until your knees hit the bed frame and you’re falling back onto the mattress. You let your elbows push you up on the bed, your eyes locking with his as he lowers himself on you, his lips pressing back against you as your thighs bring him in.
His clothed member pushes against your heat which only makes a whimper escape, you still can’t get over that he has his tongue in your mouth but now you’re making him hard. Was this really the same guy you were cussing at just a few hours ago.
Harry’s hands move away from your shoulders and spread to where your thighs hold him, the way his hands feel running down your skin has you pushing yourself deeper into his touch.
“Easy there…” He mutters against your lips when he pulls away, his lips traveling to your neck to then run over your clothed breasts, his eyes looking to yours as his lips gaze your nipples. You wanted to moan at the sight, the way his curls surrounded his face, his green orbs staring back at you while he descended down your body.
“Harry,” You whisper when you feel his breath rush over your stomach, his hands slipping under his shirt and feeling over your hips before playing with the band of your panties.
His response to the call of his name, was peeling the material down your legs and his mouth pressing open kisses onto your hip bone. Your heart beat was making your chest hurt from how nervous yet excited you are; was this really about to happen?
Your question was soon answered when you felt his breath against your heat, his hands pushing the shirt over your hips as you watch his curls brush against your inner thighs when you feel him lick a stripe up your folds. This made you dig your teeth into your bottom lip because, yeah this was happening.
Green eyes looking back at you as his tongue runs back up your slit to let it circle around your clit, lips suckling on the nerves before dangling it with his tongue again. This made your head knock back and your eyes flutter shut, he was teasing you, like he always does.
His mouth repeats those motions as moans tremble from your lips, head resting on your shoulder as you look at him sucking your folds. You let your free hand run through his hair, tugging at it lightly.
“I know you can do better than that.” You remark, eyes batting at him slowly as you push back down on him. In that moment you swear you watched his eyes glaze over a different shade, his hands gripping against your hips roughly as he lets his tongue delve into you.
Thick and slicked with spit his muscle flexed it’s way between your folds, his nose rubbing against your clit as he licked into you, humming against your heat as his nails left indents in your skin. Words can’t even express how it felt, the way his tongue just roamed inside you so wickedly that it had whimpers and moans leave you.
The view of him was even better, his eyes fluttering as he looked like he was pleased with the way you tasted, his hair falling over his forehead. The look of Harry between your legs only makes you moan again and squeeze your thighs against his face, his fingers bruising your skin from how hard he’s holding you.
You let your back completely fall to the mattress, both hands now carding though his hair as you let your hips roll against his mouth, his tongue now lying flat against your heat as he lets you ride him. Hips running up and down the expanse of his muscle, clit smoothing against taste buds as you work yourself on him, Harry’s mouth moaning against your pussy as he peeled his eyes open to stare at you, the sight making you moan immediately.
You were too tipsy to even comprehend that this was actual reality; you were suppose to hate Harry, despise him! Yet, he was between your legs and sending shockwaves throughout your nerves.
Fingers tighten in the curly locks as your hips stutter and jerk on his tongue, the sinking feeling in your abdomen tightens as your orgasm creeps upon you. The feeling of his fingers pushing down on your hips making you seep deeper into the mattress, and moan at the roughness of his touch.
The ball in your stomach begins to build, your chest breathing in shallow breaths as your thighs twitch, his tongue licking you into bliss. Just as you feel the nerves in your stomach nearly burst, the heat of his muscle tears away and makes a cry leave your lips while Harry placed wet kisses up your body.
“You didn’t think I was gonna let you get off this easy,” Harry hums against you, his hands leaving your hips and letting it rake his shirt over your head. They then go to take off his jacket and tug his jeans down, your hands immediately going to peel his boxers down his thighs.
“For someone who hates me so much, you really want my dick right now,” He mutters, his hand going to his exposed member and rubbing himself, the sight making you clench your legs.
Now, you can really see what the girls on your campus were talking about; the way his hair dropped in loose curls surrounding his face, tattoos that flex so nicely in the dim lighting of the room, and the way he’s staring at you like he’s craving you. You finally see it.
Harry lets himself run against your heat, his head lying on your clit and rubbing over it only making you suck in a breath. He was pressed so nice and warm against you while toying with your nerves. Seconds later, he leans down and lets drool slip from between his lips to trace down his dick to drip between your exposed folds. You wanted to look at this sight forever, but you hate the fact that you like this so much but can’t help but too, Harry was hot you had to admit.
The thoughts leave your mind when you feel his head slip into you, edging himself back out slowly before continuing to seep back in. Once again, he was teasing you but you had enough with this game since you just wanted the feeling of him inside you finally.
You let your hands dig into the sheets while moving your hips down on him, his dick slipping deeper into you which only elects moans from both of you. The thickness of him buried around your tight walls sends a blissful sensation of yourself stretching around him, your mouth hangs slightly open while your eyes flutter.
Harry doesn’t take the chance to tease you anymore, instead he slips all of himself inside of you before drawing back slowly and sinking into your dripping pussy. His head leaning down to lay in the crook of your neck and press kisses against the skin there, while he continue to peel his hips back and dive back into you.
“Pussy feels so good,” Harry grunts into your ear as he begins to pick up the pace and smack his hips against yours.
Your eyes peel open and let your hands rest along his ribs, your head knocked back into the pillows and gaze caught between the loose ringlets of his curls and the popcorn ceiling, as the sound of the wetness between your legs is accompanied by the slamming of his hips fills the room. You couldn’t remember the last time you had mind blowing sex like this, it must be months now. But, the wait was definitely worth it, because the feeling of Harry’s dick diving into you while his grunts and moans filled your ear was something that you wanted to last forever.
Yet, you still couldn’t believe it was him doing this to you. You don’t think you’ll ever get over this. The man you’re suppose to hate is filling your walls and captivating every cell in your body to fall under his spell.
“You fill me up so—“ You’re words being cut off when you feel Harry pull himself out until his head is breached and thrust back into you, the motions repeating themselves which only makes your mouth hang open and your nails sink into his skin.
Completely cut off guard by the change of his rhythm, you were starstruck. Your eyes fluttering close and letting him do absolutely whatever he wanted to you, just accepting the fact that he was digging into you so deliciously that you had no words to express what you were feeling.
The smell of rum and cherry fills your nose as you feel his lips link with you, his mouth moaning when your tongues lock together, hips never stopping their tantalizing movements. The feeling of him filling up your pussy with his thickness, the way you managed to become more wet by the different flow of his hips, the way his body heat covered you like a blanket.
The familiar feeling of your climax welcomes you again as Harry keeps on thrusting himself inside of you. The ball in your stomach, unraveling with each stroke only making your thighs clench tighter and pull him into you more.
“Mhm… you like me fucking you?” Harry breathes against your lips only making you cry out in frustration as you feel yourself beginning to come apart underneath him, and the fact that he’s talking to you like this is only bringing it on even more.
You nodded your head silently, eyes fluttering open to peer into his olive ones while his bushy eyebrows were knit together.
“Answer me,” He continues his hand that was by your head wrapping around your throat and you knew just by the feeling of his fingers against the skin there, you were done.
“Yes,” You cried out, eyes never tearing away as you felt the bundle of nerves in your stomach burn inside you. Your legs shaking, thighs wrapping tighter around him and nails now dragging down his sides tiredly as the feeling of pure euphoria washes over you.
Harry thrusts however never slowed down, he kept the rhythm while staring down at you, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip as he watched your face go through phases of pleasure. Your fingers leave his back and trail to his neck, legs hanging loosely around him while you stare back up at him, the beating in your heart slowing down compared to the way it was erratically beating before.
“You’re so hot when you come all over me,” He mutters, his head dipping down and now sucking bruises onto your skin. Butterflies spread in your stomach and to stop a smile from forming you bite the inside of your cheek.
His hips begin to slow, breath blowing over you shallowly and the feeling of him sliding between your walls steadily, only making you crane your neck to the side to get him to look at you. Harry tears his head away from your neck, his lips stuck between his teeth and brows still furrowed.
“Fuck,” He grunts, the feeling of him buried in your heat immediately withdrawn as his warm seed spills on your stomach. You watch his chest heave up and down as he regains his breath. Soon, the warmth of him leaves your body as you watch him sit back on his knees, his arm reaching over to his discarded shirt you once wore and wiping away the fluid.
“Seems like you just make a mess everywhere you go,” You remark, that only makes Harry let out a small laugh before tossing his shirt on the floor. He tugs his boxers over his hips and kicks the rest of his jeans off, you let yourself slip into the sheets while he lies next you.
The room grows quiet, the only sound being heard is the party downstairs. Now your thoughts run wild, you’ve sobered up a bit but still in a daze, wondering if Harry is regretting what just happened.
“Are you going to go back to hating me after this?” Harry asked, his voice deep as he turned to look you.
Fingers twisting together, you let your gaze turn away from him and look at the sheets before you. If you were being honest, you were more confused then anything about what this meant and how you felt towards him now; you couldn’t explain how you felt, still stuck between the way he treated just hours before to how he made you feel just minutes ago, how can you explain what you feel?
“You’ll just have to wait and see…”
#harry styles#harry styles fic#harry styles smut#harry styles one shot#harry styles one shots#smuttyaf#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles imagine#hs#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fluff#harry styles fandom#harry styles fic rec#frat boy harry#fratboy!harry
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hits different every time
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innocent | H.S oneshot
my masterlist
summary: while on the couch, harry ends up with innocent y/n on his lap, and she gets unexpectedly very worked up over his thigh being under her, and he does something about it.
warnings: SMUT! thigh riding, dirty talk, handjob (m receiving), best friend! harry, and a whole lot of praise kink.
requested by @shqtteredcrystql1
a/n: i absolutely love this request. thank you so much to the lovely user above who pmed me with it. <3
———
You shake your head at yourself.
You had not thought any of this would lead to you feeling so suddenly.. needy. But it has?
You were sitting in the lounge room of the beach house you were staying in, watching a movie with Harry while both parts of your family had gone out for the evening.
You and Harry had opted to stay back. The crowded bars being not your vibe for the night, and wanting to just chill out at the house for a while.
The movie was not long beginning in the background on the TV, with bags of half eaten snacks resting on the wooden coffee table— not that you could see any of it, as it was to the back of you.
It started when Harry and you fought over the blanket on the couch.
Pulling it off eachother just to be difficult, and roughhousing until he proposed a quick solution when your fingers started prodding his rib cage as pay back.
“C’mere— c’mere!” He rushed out, hands up in defeat as you technically won the mini physical brawl. Even though you know if he really wanted to win, he would a hundred times over, given his strength.
You went still and frowned as he didn’t follow up with a verbal explanation, and just held hands out for you to come to.
“Why?” You said, slightly amused.
“Because.” He stated.
So you moved forward to him, his hands coming in contact with your hips, and seizing you forward.
Bringing you seated in his lap.
“I can’t actually watch the movie, H.” You flush at your positioning. His hands still bracketing your waist like it’s nothing.
Which you’re confused why you’re reacting like this.
This has never happened to you with anyone else. Only ever with Harry.
And it’s not the first time it’s happened with him. You get big feelings often when he’s near you. They come out of nowhere, when he touches you gently during conversation, or when he flashes you a dimple in his smile.
And this warm feeling will swell in your chest, bubble down into your stomach… and sometimes further. It will simmer down in between your legs.
Leaving you with this feeling of being hot and bothered, in a completely foreign way.
Usually it’s only faint. A quick, fleeting feeling for you. However you’ve never had yourself situated on his lap.
His strong and muscly thigh straight underneath you— mostly bare, his shorts riding up to leave the hair dusted skin visible. His tiger tattoo hidden under you.
“Sorry, want to turn around?” He asks with a teasing lilt in his voice.
Your head snaps up from where you were looking at where your body met his— your pupils blown out a little.
Your eyes lock with his, and your reminded that this is your harry.
Your favourite person. Your best friend. Who has pretty green eyes, paired chocolatey brown curls that fall over them, and frame his gorgeous face.
Who smiles at you like this all the time, like you’re also his favourite person.
“Well i did want to watch 10 things I hate about you, instead of listening to it.” Your hands are resting on his shoulders, and he lets out a chuckle at your gentle quip.
“Alright, darling, let’s turn you around.” He laughs at you, rotating your body himself— handling you so that your facing the screen, your back plastered to the hard wall of his chest.
The new position evokes a flutter from your core, one completely unexpected to you.
And you’re hyperaware that there’s very little separating his leg from the sudden heat between yours, just a thin pair of sleep shorts.
“Better?” He asks casually into your ear, pulling the blanket to cover your laps.
“Yea, thank you.” You breathe out, sounding a little airy.
Your eyes find the screen, but your wholly distracted by his body.
His thumb circling your hip, the gentle breath from his nose hitting the back of your neck, and again, his thigh underneath you.
Your heart is stuttering.
You’re so— confused?
He’s your best friend. You know that, and you’re not sure why you’re feeling like this. If it’s normal?
Another concern of if he can feel it. Feel you.
The heat radiating from you.
You zone out a little, eyes locked on the movie screen. Eventually your breathing evening out for the most part, as you adjust to what was happening.
Focusing momentarily on the comfort of your surroundings. Harry practically enveloping you, the feeling of the couch pillows warm and soft around you.
The gentle hum of the waves crashing from the nearby ocean, sounding through the cracked open window.
Which the breeze being carried through it is just the right temperature, and just strong enough to have the candle flames flickering on top of he TV cabinet.
There’s a warm glow cast across the room from the array of candles, and salt lamp turned on in the corner.
Everything about it was homely, and comforting. And you tapped into the euphoric amount of bliss that surrounded you.
After a few minutes, Harry moved, shuffling his hips back to prop himself up.
His thigh underneath you dragging your thin sleep shorts along your centre, the pressure of his muscles rippling as he adjusted with your weight atop him causing an unbelievably pleasurable feeling to strike through you.
A whine slips past your lips before you can even stop it. The desperate sound filling the room, and it’s too late to take it back. Because you know he’s heard it with the way he stills immediately.
Embarrassment starts to flicker through you hardly a second later.
“Y/N?” He seems to almost whisper from behind you.
“God— sorry— I don’t know… I don’t know why that happened.”
He laughs, the sound golden and dipped in honey as it enters your ears, “Did you just moan?”
“No!” Your skin is flaming as you deny quickly.
He pushes his leg up to press into you again, and you purse your lips together as you try so hard not to let a sound out, or roll your hips instinctively against him.
You fail with the latter of those two things, your body pushing into his leg before you can even try to stop it.
“Hm, what’s gotten you all worked up, darling?” He let’s his hands run up along the side of your rib cage, and is admittedly very curious to what your feeling right now.
He was surprised at first, but fuck, your innocent little whimper has him feeling like he’s got a point to prove.
And he wants so badly to have you come undone under his touch.
“I— fuck…” you lean your head back into his shoulder, unable to form words.
His eyes skate down the profile of your gorgeous face, and further along your arched body.
“Want me to do something about the heat between those legs of yours, baby? Can feel how hot and bothered you are.”
“Harry…” you sigh out as you begin to give into the situation, “please.”
“Alright lovely, since you’re rubbing yourself all over my leg, keep going.”
You frown a little— well it feels good as far as your concerned now. But your unsure how to just continue.
“Here,” he turns you around again, and for a second smiles at your flushed and flustered face.
All the sudden the eye contact has you tingling again, his face enough to have you a mess in his hands.
His hands guide yours to rest on his shoulders, and then his own slide back down to your hips.
“Now, just keep doing what you were before hm, rub yourself on my thigh okay?”
He watches as you experiment with the movement, rolling forward on with your body and moaning at the sensation that it evokes in you.
“Oh.“ you grind against him again, harder this time.
“Oh—“
You clench, and he pushes his leg up into you with a moan from himself as he feels your cunt clamping around nothing.
“Fuck, y’gonna tell me why you’re so wet?” He grabs the back of your neck so you’re looking at him.
“I don’t know…” you whine, humping along his thigh. The thin fabric of your shorts going damp from your arousal.
“Your thighs. Your hands. You.” You speculate aloud, watching his pupils blow out with desire.
“My thigh under your cunt get you all worked up?”
“Yes— yes!” You groan out, jaw falling lax as your clit gets caught just right between the shorts and his thigh.
“Baby, take the shorts off. Wanna feel y’soak onto my leg.”
You hardly hear him, still pushing onto him until he physically has to lift you up.
He chuckles as you whine at the absence of contact.
“Tell me, Y/N, Is this okay?” He confirms, pulling your leg from in between his, so now you’re laying practically bridal style in his arms.
“Please. Take them off.” You nod eagerly, back arching in his hold.
He laughs, hair falling again across his brow.
“Let me savour this okay. Look too pretty for your own good.” He mumbles, leaning down to let his lips meet the skin of your neck.
You groan as he sucks the skin into his mouth, and his hand skates up the hem of your shirt, running between the valley of your braless breasts.
“If you need to stop,” he licks over the skin on your neck he was just abusing with his teeth, “let me know, love.”
“I won’t, please keep going…”
You hiss as his hand wraps around your tit, letting his finger tweak the peak of your nipple before running it back down, past your belly button to settle between your still covered pussy.
“Where were we,” he hums gently, rubbing you over your soaked through shorts.
“Off, Harry, please.” Your sentences weren’t properly formed, and you scraped your nails down the muscle of his tattooed bicep.
“God, listen to you. Can you hear how whiney your pretty voice sounds?”
He says it in such a way it sounds like a compliment. The typical connotation of whiney being negative. But he says it like you’re an angel for it.
He peels your shorts down your legs, and audibly groans at the sight of your naked cunt in front of him.
“I should’ve known you didn’t even have a pair of panties on.” He gently taps over your bare clit, and the light touch still has you squirming.
He rubs you a little, allowing the pads of his fingers to tease your entrance. Not before man handling you back on top of his thigh.
Your blindsided by how amazing everything feels.
“Alright darling, use me. Grind that wet little cunt on my thigh to get off.” His words have you fluttering around nothing, and him feeling your bare entrance clenching atop his skin makes his already hard cock twitch beneath the waistband of his shorts.
His hand comes down to palm over himself, delivering a gentle squeeze to try and relieve some of the pressure down there.
You pant as you resume a relatively fast pace, aided by the fact your arousal is dampening his leg. Making it easier to slide yourself on.
“Mmm, god. It feels so good!” You moan out, hands coming to his shoulders to brace yourself.
“So does your pussy on my leg, baby. You’re so wet for me. Who would have thought my little Y/N would get so worked up over sitting on my thigh of all things.” He praises, hands coming to cup the swell of your ass
“No one’s ever— fuck— made me feel like this.” You cry, the stimulation along your clit euphoric.
“Ever, huh?”
You nod, “Ever.”
He could just moan at the thought. That his sweet thing is completely foreign to sexual experiences with other people. That you got all wet on his thigh and had no idea why.
The idea that you weren’t sure why you were trying so hard not to push your pussy onto him. And that you’re probably so sensitive down there, so reactive.
That last one has him struggling not to place you on that coffee table and fuck your hole with his tongue.
He only held back because the sight of your riding his thigh was indescribably hot.
“Good girl f’me, let me help you, make y’come all on my thigh.” He hummed, pushing his leg up to add some more pressure on your clit.
“Harry!” Your pretty voice moaned out as his hands came to guide your hips, to push them faster and harder against his skin.
The control he was taking over you was enough to make you almost drip. Because even if he was so gentle about it, it was insane.
He pushed your bucking hips down, and his leg up, making a delicious pressure that had an unfathomable heat simmer between your legs.
“I wanna come on your leg, Harry, please…” you’re pleading him, hips messily fucking over his skin.
“Yea, baby? My perfect little slut.” He tests out the nickname, watching as your whole body reacts with a quiver at his dirty mouth.
“Oh, you really do like it dirty…” he realises out loud, smirking as you moan.
“Look down at your cunt riding my leg, humping all over it.” He gently laces his hand in your hair, tilting your head down, “How about when you’re done, I get you on your knees and make you clean it up?”
Your mouth goes slack, and it’s baffling to hear such words coming from him.
Yet he could ask you to do anything at this point and you’re convinced you wouldn’t even hesitate before doing it.
“I will, I will!” You nod, thighs quivering on each side of his own.
“Cmon pretty, fuck,” he bucks into his hand that was stroking over his fabric-clad cock, “wanna watch you come. Hear you cry out my name.”
Your clit was pulsing along his now drenched tattoo, and you could feel your muscles tightening in your stomach.
The simmering feeling in your core that you had originally started with has turned into a pot that was about to boil over.
“Harry, ohmygod—“ you whined, falling further into his chest, hands coming up to intertwine with his hair.
He pushed his thigh up against you, and the pressure finally peaked, and you teetered on the brink of orgasm.
You were moaning into his ear, and he could feel your pussy clenching around nothing, waiting for that final little nudge.
“Good fucking girl, let it all go f’me.” He growls into your ear, accent husky, and the words zip straight to where you needed it.
You let out a loud moan of his name, nails dragging down along his shoulders as you messily grind through the pleasure.
He is groaning at the sight. Just as fucking beautiful as he imagined.
Your back arched, and he could feel your cunt pulsating around his leg. It was filthy, and he loved every damn second of it.
“Oh, god— harry, please!” You whimpered, your core jutting against him still, but now with slower more irratic movements.
“That’s it, ride it out on me love. Fuck.” He curses as you absentmindedly drag your lips down the column of his neck.
You slowly come to a stop, the stimulation too much for you now. And your panting as you pull back to look at Harry, and the mess you made atop his thigh.
You lock eyes with him, his hair is messy, and cheeks are flushed. You smile at him, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on his also smiling lips.
You glance down between your legs, spotting immediately the glistening skin of Harry’s leg, and how his finger reaches to get a sample and bring it to his lips.
Watching, he sucks his finger into his mouth, humming at the taste of you on his tongue.
“Taste like a dream, my darling.”
He gathers some more on the same finger, bringing it up to your own lips, letting you suck on them.
“Mm, good isn’t it? Look so good with your mouth wrapped ‘round m’fingers.” He praises, eyes darkening at the sight of your lips sucking his long digits.
You slide off them, taking in his beautiful appearance again. How the warm glow of the lounge room light is casting over his tan skin.
You’re still a little muddled about everything that just occurred. And that the little crush that’s always festered in your head when it comes it Harry has just led you here.
Him being the first person to ever see your pussy, and make you come. On his thigh of all places.
“Thank you…” you flush, a little shyness coming out.
“Don’t get shy with me baby, just watched y’come on my thigh. No room for that.” He smiles, pulling you into his chest.
“Now,” he begins again, stroking the small of your back, “let’s go get cleaned up before everyone suddenly comes home to you still half-naked on my lap.”
You laugh a little as he pecks your cheek, “then we can come back to the couch, and rewind 10 things I hate about you and share some ice cream, m’kay?”
“And uhm, what about you?” You gesture to the tent in his shorts.
“Worry about that another time, alright lovely. Not tonight, that was all for you.” He confirms.
“It’ll just… go away?” You frown, confused— and a little embarrassed you didn’t know what would happen with it.
“Should mostly. Might still have a semi, since all I’m gonna be able to think about is what y’taste like. But again, you can worry about me another day.”
You shake your head, “i want to worry about you now though…”
He blinks slowly, “Fuck, well if you keep bloody begging me to get y’hands on my cock, I’m not gonna be strong enough to tell ya no.”
“Never, uh, done this before. As long as that doesn’t put you off.” You shrug, watching his green eyes flick between your hand and his erection.
“Don’t stress, darling. I have been pretty much about to come at the sight of you, I don’t think it’s gonna take much.”
“And for the record,” he rests a hand on your hip, “nothing could put my off of you. Especially when it comes to you touching me.”
You nod, slowly. Still a little unsure as you reach down to pull the waistband of his shorts from his laurel-adorning hips.
He lifts his hips so you can pull them down, far enough that his cock springs out of them.
Your lips parted at the sight, his flushed tip, with beads of precum seeping out, blotting along down his shaft.
His cock was as gorgeous as you’d imagined. Because of course a pretty boy like him would have such a nice cock.
Not that you have much to judge off, but if the smooth skin and the sudden overproduction of saliva in your mouth was any inkling… you would say he was perfect.
Your hand reached to stroke along him, noticing the lack of lubrication.
You put to use the gathering pool of spit in your mouth, and you pursed your lips to let some of it drop down onto his tip.
He had a whole body reaction as he felt your warm spit slip down the head of his cock. A moan sounded from him, and he sounded like an angel.
“Fuckkk, already spitting on my cock. Little minx y’are.” His eyes went half lidded, and he fought to keep them open. Just to watch your all too curious expression and your hands glide over his cock.
“Faster?” You asked, looking for advice.
“Squeeze it, baby. Then stroke it.” He directed, struggling to form the words.
Then struggling even more not to cry out as you did just as he asked.
“Y/N.” He hissed, bucking his hips up as you started stroking his cock with a moderate pace.
“You look very pretty.” You meekly stated, admiring the way his face has flushed and lips have parted all from your touch.
You speed up your hands, watching intensely as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth in attempt to control himself.
“My god, your hands…” He moans, arm coming to drape over his forehead as he rolled his hips into your warm hand.
You took liberty to swipe your thumb over his tip, and your eyebrows raising as his whole body shudders.
“To know you’re fucking my cock with your spit and your hand.” He sighs out, heat building in his stomach.
“Can I touch here too?” Your hand gently ghosts over where his balls are, and you’re not sure if that’s somewhere he wants you to touch.
“Fuck yes, baby. Ohhh god, I’m gonna come so fast.” He is moaning suddenly without care as you massage him attentively.
Dragging your hands back up to his cock, you continue to stroke and rub along him.
“Want to see you finish too…” you smile, also excited to see the way his body reacts when he comes.
“Cant wait to paint your hand in my fuckin’ come.” He pants, hand gripping the couch cushion near his head.
He can probably feel you getting wet on him again. Seeing him like this has you a mess.
“Fuck— any faster and I’m gonna come on your hand Y/N.” He moans, now his thighs being the ones trembling.
You fuck his cock with your fist faster, in awe of the way he moans out as his orgasm hits him.
Ropes of his warm come spurting out his tip, spilling down your hand as you keep up the pace.
Waiting until he whines with the overstimulation.
“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He shakes his head, blissed out from his orgasm.
Hazily taking in the way you lick a stripe up your thumb, where his come had landed.
You enjoyed the flavour of it, salty and overall pleasant on your tastebuds.
“Can I?” You leant down, wanting more off his cock.
“God, love— wanting to clean the come off my damn cock it tasted that good.” He praises you, letting your mouth gently slide over his softening dick.
You make quick work of the mess, and he remarks shortly, “fuck, gonna have to spend some more time later with your mouth wrapped around me. You’re like an angel.”
Once you’re done, you pull his shorts back over him and watch him smile, dragging you in for another soft kiss— regardless of whether his dick was just in your mouth.
“Alright pretty, let’s get cleaned up before you start grinding anymore on my thigh. Can feel you already getting wet again.”
“Yes, Harry.” You whisper, letting him pick you up and carry you to the bathroom.
———
#harry styles#harry styles smut#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles oneshot#harry styles fluff#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#fanfiction#best friend!harry#fwb harry#he’s so fine#fbh#frat boy harry#harry styles smutshot#smut#thigh riding
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Washing Machine Heart
Summary: You, a reserved student find yourself in the midst of an intense with Harry Styles, who happens to be your friend’s boyfriend. Your connection ignites into a consuming, high-stakes affair, each encounter fraught with desire and danger, pushing both of you to the brink as you wrestle with guilt and loyalty.
A forbidden affair; affair trope.
Warnings: mention of alcohol. LOTS OF ANGST.
27th February 2014
4:08 p.m
The wind was cold today and so were you. The sun, hidden under a cloak of clouds, was nowhere to be seen. The streets of London never looked so desolate and dull. Even the usually vibrant Villon Street today looked as if it had been washed in grey and white. Your shoes clacked against the hard pavement, your focus directed at the wind and the cold that nicked at your face.
Over the years you developed a perception that you’re invisible, a shadow slinking in corners long forgotten. You look around, your ears blocking out the chatter and squeals of your friends; friends who would often disregard you when together, far too immersed in each other's stories of disastrous flings and affairs. But they were your friends, your friends to call, your friends to keep no matter how ignorant or oblivious they sometimes became.
“Y/N?” Sharon suddenly spoke out loud, drawing you out of your trance.
“Yeah?” You suddenly asked, your posture becoming straighter, your eyes becoming alert.
Sharon looked at you intently, her blue eyes scanning you up and down before sighing. “There’s a party tomorrow at, what 7?” Sharon asked Regina in the middle of her sentence.
Regina simply nodded while texting, her wispy brown hair wafting with every gust of wind. Sharon continued, “Yes, so there’s a party tomorrow at the frat house. Would you like to join? We’re all getting ready at my place.”
Sharon and you lived in the same apartment building. You were looking for the cheapest accommodation, a one-bedroom apartment off campus because living with absolute strangers was far too daunting for you. And that is how you met Sharon, whom your mother instantly loved owing to her extroverted demeanour.
“Yeah, I’d like that.” You smiled at the three girls.
“Great!” Tara exclaimed.
The four of you spent the next hour drinking coffee and discussing your outfits for the party; albeit you occasionally answered in full sentences, opting for curt words instead. As the clock struck seven in the evening, Tara and Regina decided to head back to campus while you and Sharon made your way to Greene Street, where your apartments were situated. “Come with me, I have to show you my new dress,” Sharon said before you got a chance to head to your apartment.
Sharon’s apartment was right next to yours but seemed a world apart. Her apartment was littered with stray clothes, makeup and syllabus books everywhere while yours sported an impressive collection of novels, journals and trinkets and the walls were painted with various constellations, flowers, sunsets or anything you wished to preserve.
You stepped over Sharon’s strewn clothes and sat on her bed, waiting for her to come out. Suddenly the doorbell rang and you were up in qualms, not knowing what to do.
“Sharon, someone's at the door.” You said, standing close to the bathroom door so that she could hear you clearly.
“Must be Harry, why don’t you open it? It’ll take me a while in here.” Sharon replied.
You stood for two seconds, mapping out your plan of action when the bell rang for the second time. “Coming!” You yelled.
You opened the door and there stood Harry Styles, Sharon’s five-month long boyfriend. A bouquet of roses held in his right hand, a silly smile etched on his face.
“You’re not Sharon.” Harry chuckled. His voice sounded radiant, his green eyes gleamed with amusement.
“You stand correct. She’s in the washroom,”
“Ah, well how are you?” Harry asked, being the gentleman he was taught to be.
“Careful or else I might think these flowers are for me.” You joked dryly.
Truth be told, initially, Harry had his sights set on you, the girl who always lingered beyond time in the library, who would laugh at jokes only once she saw everyone else was laughing around her. This is why he talked to Sharon, to make her help him talk to you but somewhere along the way lines got blurred and Harry got confused. Fatally confused. Confused enough that his lack of decisiveness led him to a relationship he never wanted to be in but nonetheless followed through for he had nothing better to do. And now as you opened the door, a small part of him hoped that the situation in front of him was not because of coincidence but because of will.
“Harry!” A squeal from behind took his focus away. He looked behind to see Sharon, in a tight red dress looking at him with the eyes of a lovesick puppy.
“Got these for you,” Harry said, walking in. He grabbed Sharon by the waist and gave her a kiss.
Harry did not notice when you left, but could only feel you leave. Like a silent wraith gliding from one world to the next.
28th February 2014
10:42 p.m
The music playing was absolutely deafening. The cup in your head seemed like a dead weight. You had a few beers, only to make conversations with all these people less turbulent. The short denim skirt you wore kept on riding up your thighs and the white tube top you wore seemed to stick to your skin. Tara had run off to somewhere with Regina and Sharon was far too immersed in making your drink.
“Don’t add too much vodka Shar,” you tell the girl, turning your focus towards the kitchen island littered with bottles of alcohol and empty cups.
“Of course, of course,” Sharon said, nodding, as she proceeded to empty the bottle of vodka in her hand in the two cups in front of her. “Now for the real question Y/N, coke or straight?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Straight?” You opted for drinking it straight because you found the taste of vodka to be borderline unbearable, so you opted to take it as a shot. To get it over with rather than let the audacious taste linger on.
“Straight it is,” Sharon said, handing you your cup. “Oh, and I honestly don’t know how much I poured. Let my hand loose if you know what I mean.” The girl chuckled. She tucked her blonde hair behind her ears and drank the shot all at once. You did the same, cringing at the taste, feeling as if you were about to puke.
“Water!” Sharon immediately scrambled for a glass of water on seeing your expression. She handed the glass to you, her expression wary.
“All good.” You said as you kept the glass down.
“Hah great! I’m gonna go look for Harry now.”
“Oh yeah, have fun.” You said smiling at her, your speech a bit slurred.
You made your way to the back of the house and sat next to the pool. Your head started to spin, and a newfound sense of numbness settled over your bones. One that you found quite relaxing. You closed your eyes and hummed contently, the loud music and presence of people no longer bothering you as it was before.
“Y/N?” You heard a familiar voice. You opened your eyes and saw Harry walk towards you.
“Hello, Harry!” You said enthusiastically, smiling as wide as you possibly could.
“You seem to be in a nice mood.” Harry chuckled at your behaviour.
“Come, sit next to me.” You gestured towards the space beside you. Harry took you up on your offer, sitting on the lounge chair next to you.
“You know, it took me two hours to straighten my hair. Not that it was difficult, but because I kept on asking myself if I really wanted to come here. Then there was this whole dilemma of not knowing what to wear. I wanted to wear my jeans but Tara said I can’t wear them because she’s wearing them, then I thought I could wear leather pants but Regina said she’s wearing hers so I can’t wear mine, although they don’t even remotely look the same. And what’s so bad about having similar outfits.” You huffed out. Harry looked at you with both surprise and awe because you had never talked more than ten seconds with him.
“Well, I for one think you look absolutely beautiful tonight,” Harry said, looking at you with sincere eyes.
“Really?” You asked him. The doubt in your eyes made Harry want to hug and hold you.
“Really. I don’t think there’s anyone as beautiful as you here Y/N.” Harry said.
He didn’t miss the way your gaze softened, your lips dropping into a small smile. You drew closer to him. He could feel your bare thighs touch his and it was as if his entire being had narrowed down to the parts where your skin touched his. He felt his heart skip a few beats when you kept your head on his shoulder and held his hand in yours.
Oh, how he wished to kiss you at that moment! He had to physically stop his hand from trailing up your neck, all the way to your face. He wanted to touch you, feel your skin and kiss every inch of it, slowly and gently. He wished he could stretch time to its fullest and preserve this moment in a photograph that he could stow away in his pocket.
“Sharon was looking for you. Sorry, I didn’t tell you earlier.” You whispered, half expecting him to get up and leave.
“It’s okay,” Harry replied quietly, his grip on your tightening as he pulled you in closer.
4th March 2014
11:16 p.m
The month of March is a month full of oddities and complexities. It seems to be a kind of cloth wherein the hem was left undone, leaving it to fray in any and every direction. You do not know what to expect until you step outside. The sunshine that seems to be warm from your window is truthfully cold, or the chilling wind blowing outside is actually warm. Needless to say, March is a month with its seam left undone.
And in that undone seam, in a mess of threads and needles is where you found yourself. A new set of feelings dawned on you. Feelings for Harry. You felt your heart skip a few beats every time you looked at him. But there was Sharon, his girlfriend and more importantly your friend. This constant tug of war between what you desire and what is morally incorrect tired you. You tucked away all your worries in the back of your head for tonight, your sole focus being the movie playing in front of you.
You get up from the couch in which you lay to fetch yourself a bag of crisps. While making your way to the kitchen, your doorbell rang. You were expecting no one, especially not at this time. A million scenarios rushed through your head, full of probable outcomes (albeit most of them ended up with you dead on your living room floor). The doorbell rang a second time now. You picked up your ornithology textbooks, two of them together hoping that the sheer width of them combined would help you knock out whoever it was outside.
You open the door, half ready to start swinging like hell when you see Harry. The top buttons of his shirt were left unbuttoned, showing his built chest and muscled arms. His broad shoulders seemed to block out your doorway.
He looked ravishing.
You mentally smacked yourself for thinking in such a way about a boy who happened to be in a relationship, that too with a girl who happened to be your friend. “What are you doing here Harry? Sharon’s apartment is the one on the right.” You said, envisioning that him ringing your doorbell was an honest mistake.
“I know.” He said, smiling at you. He leaned against your doorframe, towering over you. You crossed your arms and looked at him.
Harry did not miss the way you scanned him up and down, how your breath so subtly hitched when you saw his chest. He found the flimsy night suit you wore to be quite cute, if not tempting. A button-up half-sleeved satin shirt with red hearts all over it and a pair of dangerously short shorts to accompany it.
“What’re you watching?” Harry said, walking in and sitting on your sofa. “Rio, huh? Good choice I’d say.” He said, smiling at you, stretching his body.
“Make yourself right at home will ya?” You muttered under your breath. “Why are you here though?” You asked him as you settled down next to him.
“Do you mind my company? Although I don’t think so.”
“Is there something you want from me? If so, just ask me so that we can stop with the small talk bullshit.” You firmly said.
“Yes actually, I do want something,” Harry said turning to look at you.
“Which is?”
“To spend time with you.”
“What?”
“I just told you what I want, kitten,” Harry said. You were grateful for the low lighting in your living room that hid the blush creeping on your face.
“You’re drunk Harry.” You reprimanded him. He only smiled at you, rolling his eyes playfully. “Just a bit tipsy Y/N.”
“Hmm. Okay, what do you want to watch then?” You ask, turning your focus away.
“Rio’s good.” He said.
“Okay.”
You resume the movie and lean back. Harry watched you intently. He noted every moment of yours, the way your chest would rise and freeze when something would happen in the movie, the way your lips would morph into a smile and your eyes fill with wonder.
Harry slowly started to inch towards you, careful not to make too much noise. He tried to be as subtle as he could, stretching and spreading his legs simply to touch yours. He could see you relax as well, your upright posture now dissolving into a lazy spread. Slowly, inch by inch Harry moved towards you as if you were a magnet pulling him in your direction.
He put his arm behind you. His thighs touched yours and from the corner of his eye, he could see you in freeze. He smirked and continued to move closer.
The warmth radiating from Harry was more welcoming than you were willing to admit. A million questions raced through your head, ‘is this right?’, ‘This is wrong,’ ‘he has a girlfriend’ and most importantly, ‘I shouldn’t be feeling this way.’ However, in all reality, you were caught up in the exact same feelings the rational part of your brain was telling you to avoid. But you didn’t care.
So you nestled further in Harry’s embrace, falling into him. You rested your head on his chest, feeling his muscled arm come around and wrap your shoulders. You could feel the sheer strength of his chest, feel every sculpted muscle of his under your head. Your skin felt as if it were on fire, fire that did not burn you but only tingled you. A tingle that you felt erupting in the lower part of your stomach.
You look up to see Harry gazing down at you. “I gather you don’t find the movie interesting.” You said, he only smiled gently at you.
“Talking birds aren’t really my preference.” He said, his voice sounding raspy.
“Oh, I can change it,” you said, getting up but Harry pulled you down, which made you land on top of him. You were now sitting on his lap, your expression that of extreme fluster. “That won’t be necessary,” Harry said. He looked at you with a gaze that threatened to devour you as a whole. He dragged his thumb over your lip slowly.
Your breathing went shallow all of a sudden. The flimsy material of your nightshirt wasn’t thick enough to hide how your nipples hardened under his touch. “What are you doing?” You asked him, your words a mere pant leaving your lips.
“What I dreamt of doing for so long,” Harry said.
He slowly inched his head towards you, his lips inviting you. It suddenly felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room and he was the source of oxygen. The second your lips met with his you could feel your lungs fill with the air you lacked before.
Harry moved his hands up and down your body, feeling you as deeply as he could. Every inch of your skin, from the pads of your fingertips to your chest was on fire. A fire that Harry’s hands ignited in their wake. A fire that seemed to only burn and burn.
You started grinding your hips. Feeling his hard bulge under you. A desperate moan escaped his lips. You started to circle your hips more deeply, pressing your hot and dripping centre against him. You could feel the denim of his pants rub through the flimsy material of your shorts.
You were both a mess of pants and moans. Kissing each other as if the world threatened to end. A moan was about to fall off your lips when the bell rang. You shot up, looking at Harry with wide eyes.
“Shh, it’s okay angel.” He said, cupping your face in his hand.
You got up from his lap, now consciously aware of what had just happened.
“Y/N! Let me in!” Sharon spoke from the other end of the door. Your eyes were wide in alarm as you turned towards Harry. “Bathroom! Go!” You whispered to him, dragging him to your bathroom.
Once Harry was in, you opened the door. “Hi Sharon, what’s got you knocking on my door at this time?”
Sharon only rolled her eyes and walked in. “I don’t know what to wear tomorrow.” She sighed dramatically.
“Why what’s tomorrow?” You ask her.
“Harry’s taking me out.” She said as if you had asked a silly question.
“Oh.”
“I was thinking of wearing my red dress, or maybe the white one y’know the one with pearls and-”
“Sharon, listen I’d love to do this, but just not now.” You said, your voice meek.
“Why're you acting like this?” She asked you, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Like what?” You feigned innocence, already feeling guilty for refusing her.
“Like you have someone here. Do you, though?” She asked you, almost sounding accusatory.
Be calm. Be calm.
“No, I don’t.”
“Yeah, I thought so. Anyways, you go to bed or whatever you were doing.” She said leaving your apartment.
You let out a deep breath and walked towards the washroom. You opened the door and saw Harry, standing behind the shower curtain, his brawny structure making him stick out like a sore thumb.
“You can come out now.” You said.
“Ah thank God, I thought I’d have to stay here the whole night.” He chuckled.
“No, Sharon was just asking what to wear for her date tomorrow. A date that you’re taking her on.” You stated blandly.
“Oh.”
“Oh God, this was never supposed to happen. What have we done?” You said dragging your palms down your face. Before you could say another word Harry hugged you. He hugged you long and tight.
And despite knowing better, you melted in his arms like putty.
28th March 2014
3:27 p.m
You sat in your car, in the parking lot outside the rugby stadium, waiting for Harry. This is what your life has come to now. Waiting outside in parking lots to meet Harry, subtle brushes against each other, locking eyes with each other. Harry did the same, waiting for you outside your classes, entering your apartment at odd times. Your relationship had transgressed from being purely physical to being a more emotional one. You would both simply sit next to each other, talking.
The world didn’t seem so lonely anymore for the two of you.
You look outside to see Harry walk towards you. His hair was wet and he wore a compression shirt that highlighted his muscled build along with loose baggy sweatpants. He smiled looking at you, a smile you had come to know was only reserved for you. He didn’t smile like this with Sharon or with his friends, a part of your heart fluttered at this knowledge.
“Hello, my love,” Harry said, getting in the car.
“Hi. How was practice?” You asked him.
“It was good, tiring as always. How were classes?” Harry asked you while throwing his duffel bag in the back of the car.
“Fine. Sharon wanted me to go out with her, Regina and Tara tonight.” You stated blandly. The sound of Sharon's name brought a lot of unwanted guilt in your head.
“Are you going?” He asked you.
“I don’t know. They don’t talk to me as much when sober, I doubt the outcome’s going to be different when they’re drunk.” You sighed. Your hands fidgeted with the steering wheel of the car. The rings on your hand clacked against it faintly.
“You can always change the people you’re around Y/N,” he said
“But I can’t,”
“But you can.”
“You can, I can’t. Being able to make friends or even just talk to people doesn’t come to me as naturally as it does to you, Harry.” You sighed, becoming frustrated at both the conversation at hand and your lack of social skills.
“It’s okay. I get it.” He said, reaching out to hold your hand.
“Do you, though?” You shot back, scoffing.
“Y/N, come on don’t be like this.” Harry pleaded. His voice was soft and buttery, coaxing you into a better place.
“Yeah, I’m sorry there’s just a lot that’s been on my mind as of late.” You breathed through your nose deeply. Your head felt heavy with all the anxiety you’d been feeling lately.
“You want to talk about it?”
“No, I'm okay. Thank you.” You whispered meekly.
Harry slowly brushed his hand over your cheek and you leaned into his touch, gazing into his eyes as a smile crept up your face. You leaned towards him and kissed him. You cupped his face with your hands and drew him into you. He unbuckled his seat belt quickly and pulled you onto his lap, albeit it was uncomfortable because of the tight place.
You moaned at his touch, capturing his lip between your teeth and tugging at it. Harry was left absolutely breathless by your actions and pulled you down harder, his hands squeezing your hips and waist. You could feel every muscle of his flex because of the thin compression shirt he wore.
“Careful now. Don’t want anyone to see us.” You whispered in his ear.
“What if I do?” Harry said, looking at you with an intense gaze.
Your lower lip jutted out subtly, a subtle reflection of what you thought of his words. “Everyone’s going to call you a cheater and they’ll call me something worse probably.” You chuckled sadly. You gave Harry a sincere kiss on his cheek and made your way for your seat.
“So what’s the plan for tonight? Are you going or not?” He asked you.
“No.” You answered as you started the car.
“Then how about a movie night? Just the two of us.”
“Hm, at my place and I’ll decide what to watch obviously.” You said smiling at him.
“Whatever you say kitten,” Harry said, holding your hand and kissing it.
4th April 2014
10:07 p.m
The black sky above glistened with a million stars, your eyes fixated on them. Harry watched you watching the stars. He smiled to himself. He longed for you in a silent and torturous way. You often felt worlds away from him even when you were right next to him. He blamed his lack of decisiveness for this distance. He knew deep down that the distance between you two would eventually strangle the life out of the relationship you shared. He was desperate for you, pining only for you. His world would stop moving when you’d call him by his name, all his focus narrowing on you.
“It’s breathtaking.” You gasped looking up.
“It truly is,” Harry said, looking at you.
You were sceptical at first when Harry said he knew a spot. After a drive of half an hour, you found yourself at the peak of a small hill, untouched by civilisation except for a small concrete bench. It not only overlooked the whole city but also had a magnificent view of the sky above. The stars weren’t so explicitly visible in the city as they were here.
The cool air blew against your cheeks, kissing your face gently.
“Come, sit with me,” Harry said, calling to you. You walk towards him and sit next to him on the bench.
You sigh through your nose and look ahead. “I think about it sometimes, what our first date would look like.” You said. Your voice sounded mournful as if you were grieving the loss of a relationship that never existed.
“I’d get you flowers, maybe even chocolates if you’re lucky that day,” Harry said. He looked at you and saw how glazed your eyes were.
“But it doesn’t matter. You’re with Sharon, who hates me. And you know what’s even more pathetic, it’s the fact that she hates me yet she’s my friend.” You spoke, your voice wobbly and cracking. You often felt like a washing machine. Everyone would come and go and leave a piece behind in it. Sometimes the piece would break you, unable to function for months or sometimes it would simply stay there. That was worse, having a piece of someone stay forever even as the washing machine in your heart desperately tried to cleanse you of it. “It’s just the hand I was dealt with.” You quickly added.
“Why don’t you say something to them? You don’t deserve to be walked over all like that. You can’t let that happen to you.” Harry said.
“The same way you’re walking all over me now?” You chuckled darkly.
“What?”
“What are we, Harry? Are we just fucking? Are we just friends? What are we?” You ask the question that had been looming over the both of you like an axe that could drop any moment.
“I wish I could answer that,” Harry said, his head in his hands now.
“What have I done?” You whispered to yourself.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this Y/N. I swear.” Harry pleaded, holding your hands in his.
“Why did you kiss me that day?” You asked him, tears now falling from your eyes.
“Because it’s always been you. You, who I wanted all along.” He confessed.
The silence after his confession was all consuming, threatening to eat him up alive. Harry caught a glimpse of you, staring straight at the skyline. Silent tears fell from your eyes. He wanted to reach out and rub away your tears but refrained from doing so. The world seemed to close up on him. He missed the way it opened up with you.
“Y/N, angel? Say something.” Harry said with a soft voice. “Please.” He begged.
You turned to look at him. Harry looked devastating. A handsome prince you dreamt of as a kid. He was a prince, but not yours to claim rather only to keep for a fleeting moment. You brought a hand to his face and smiled sorrowfully at him.
“I suppose this is how things were supposed to be all along.” You whispered resignation etched in your voice.
“Y/N,” Harry whispered, knowing the direction you were steering things in all too well.
“You have Sharon, Harry. Go to her.” You said.
Both of you sat there, time stretching painfully as if the universe was mocking your agony. Your eyes met one last time, a gaze full of regret and all things left unsaid. You leaned in, capturing Harry’s lips in your own for the last time. The kiss was hesitant at first, both of you afraid as if pressing too hard would shatter the fragile moment between you two. It was a kiss full of the things you couldn’t say, the dreams you had for one another, the conversations you shared.
And for Harry, as he kissed you a part of him mourned the confession that would never find its way to you. A three worded sentence, one that would change his life and yours.
I love you.
3rd May, 2014
1:17 p.m
“It’s amazing, how she’s just disappeared all of a sudden,” Sharon said, twirling her hair.
“Wait, who disappeared?” Harry asked her.
“Y/N.”
Harry and Sharon sat next to each other in her apartment. The wound you left in Harry’s heart was one he was doubtful would close. He dreamt of you, thought of you and longed for you. But he knew his thoughts would not materialise and you would only remain a figment of his past, a memorial of the right person wrong time concept.
“What do you mean?” He pressed the girl further.
“Ugh, I wasn’t supposed to tell this to anyone but I can’t keep it in me anymore. She’s leaving for Rio tomorrow, she’s got an internship at some sanctuary. I think the Sun would do her some good actually.” Sharon chuckled.
“Oh.” He felt his world was spinning.
“She's yet to give me my sweater. She’s actually supposed to give it today.”
Perhaps if it were fate, perhaps it was circumstance but whatever it was, Harry was thankful for it when the bell rang. “Don’t worry I’ll get it. You stay here.” He said and kissed Sharon’s head. He hoped it was you on the other side of the door.
And his prayers were answered.
There you were, standing in the doorway with a sweater in your hand. Your eyes widened slightly at Harry’s enormous yet so familiar frame, and his face, the same face that swept you off your feet now made you wary.
“You’re going to Rio?” Harry asked you.
“Yes. It’s an internship.” You curtly answered. You tried to walk in but Harry blocked your way, his muscled arm blocking your way.
“For how long?” He asked, cornering you as if you were prey and he a predator.
“Five years. They’ll start paying me after three months, so it’s more like a job I guess.” You said.
“And when were you going to tell me about it?” He asked you, his face stern and stoic.
“It’s not like we were dating.” You harshly said.
Harry hated this. This newfound sense of coldness between the two of you. He wondered how something so warm became so cold this quickly. The cold you left behind was one that could not be thawed, Harry would only have to live it.
“I love you Y/N,” Harry confessed. He didn’t miss the way your eyes softened, even if only for a moment.
“Lie to me again. I dare you.” You asserted, walking up to him. Your eyes were dark, distant and cold. Like a cold desert that never seemed to end.
“I’m not lying. I love you. I always have and always will.”
“I’d rather you not.”
—————-
A/N: Let me know how you like it in the comments and reblogs! I love talking to you all, send me asks and whatever you feel like! Thank you so much for reading!
#famous!harry#harry fanfic#harry imagine#harry x y/n#harry's house album#harry one direction#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles blog#harry one shot#harry styles writing#one direction imagine#one direction fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfic#frat boy harry#harry styles angst#harry styles smut#harrys house#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#harry styles x you#harry styles blurb#harry#one direction#sty
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The Beginning of Something New
Summary: You and Harry Styles could not be more diametrically opposed— so maybe that's the reason you've hated each other from the start. One conversation on a rooftop is all it takes for you to realize that you may have more in common than you've cared to admit.
Word-count: around 3.3k (she's short)
Warnings: they fight a lot lol, mentions of alcohol and drugs
A/N: Hi there! It's been a while. I wrote this short thing on vacation and felt like posting it. It doesn't really follow a time structure or anything, it's just random little snippets of their relationship to the big confessions at the end but I think it's cute, so I hope you enjoy! Both reader and Harry are in uni and Harry is the lead singer of a band that performs in clubs and pubs around the city. I’d say they’re around 20.
credits to the owner of this photo!
You can feel his eyes on you, daring.
You’re trying not to entertain it, to keep your eyes on Luke, to feign interest in his life. But it’s so difficult; it’s so difficult with him standing across the room, this weird hue in the air, this magnetic pull he has on you. And it doesn’t matter that you’re touching Luke’s arm or dragging a finger down his chest— all you care to think about is how hard you’re pushing Harry’s buttons.
And how fucking sweet victory tastes.
Well, aside from… you know, having to actually listen to Luke’s blabbering.
“The hotel’s great but the service is unbelievable. I had to wait fifteen minutes for a guy to bring me an extra towel once and I almost handed in a complaint—“
“Right. Luke, I’m going to get myself a new drink. Do you want anything? No? Wonderful.”
Your rough sigh speaks volumes, wasted air solidifying into something more important as you order at the bar. The bartender smiles at you, almost pitiful, and you writhe in disgust when you think about having to go back in a minute. You suppose it’s worth it to prove your point to Harry that you’re not as undesirable as he thinks, but maybe you should’ve done so with a guy who tells more interesting stories. Or at the very least knows not to speak with his mouth full
“Bored already, princess?”
It does irritate you when Harry sees right through you.
“Were you watching us? How cute.”
He rolls his eyes in your periphery. “You reek of disinterest, is all.”
“As a matter of fact, I’m very interested.”
“Very, you say.”
You lock eyes with him, “very.” Your bartender places the drink in front of you and you’re quick to take a sip. Harry snickers at your side. “What do you want, Harry?”
“Nothing. Are you sure you didn’t pay him to take you out?”
“Are you sure you have nothing else to do with your life? Because it sure is a little pathetic how invested you are in mine.”
“Aw come on, sweetheart,” he pinches your cheek and you recoil in an instant, shoving him back. Harry chuckles like he gets off on it. “Admit that you like the attention.”
“From you? I think I’d rather not.”
His smile never fades. “So this guy, very predictable.”
Your eyebrows pinch together, “what do you mean?”
“Just his look and everything. It makes sense you’d go out with him.” When you don’t reply, simply tilting your head in an even mix of curiosity and disdain, he elaborates. “All of the boys you date, they’re the same. Bet his Porsche’s insurance is under his daddy’s name.”
Your fixated glare could kill.
But he doesn’t mind— in fact, he loves it. He knows he’s struck a cord, that he’s right. “There’s no thrill in it. No excitement.”
“He’s everything you could never be, Harry.”
A beat of silence ensues, you take a sip of your drink.
You probably shouldn’t elaborate, but you do. You find yourself wanting to. “He’s kind, and he cares about me. He opens doors and he holds my hand when we’re walking down the street. So yeah, maybe he doesn’t get drunk tattoos or share a joint with me at three in the morning, but he’s a gentleman. And that’s something you could never understand.”
You don’t even wait for him to interject, because at this point it isn’t fun anymore. It’s true; Harry is exciting, he’s a breath of fresh air. He keeps the chase going— but he doesn’t fucking care enough. So it doesn’t matter how often you’ve caught yourself hoping for him to change and see how good you could be if you didn’t hate each other, he will never be an option for you. He likes the game, teetering on the edge of something more certain and then letting go.
Everything happens at night. By morning time, he couldn’t give less of a shit. You’re not good enough for him. Not exciting enough, not spontaneous enough.
And even though you’re sure you hear him calling your name, you don’t turn back for him. You’re already walking to Luke’s table, and finding yourself happy to do so.
“Everything okay?” He asks when catching wind of your tight expression.
“Yeah. Let’s finish this drink and get the hell out of here.”
—
His eyes are much greener at night, and you hate it.
You hate the rasp in his voice and how smooth it sounds in spite of it. You hate how his eyes close when he’s entranced in the music, when he feels his guitar riff flowing like blood through his veins. And mostly you hate how weak you are, how little convincing it took for you to be here tonight.
By the end of his set, you’re three martinis in and Jessica is poking you in the shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
“Im fucking great, Jess.”
You don’t see why your friends are always walking on eggshells when the topic of Harry comes up. You and Harry can’t stand each other, that’s it.
And yet every time they act like you’ll break into tears when you see him.
Mitch and Harry return to the table in your periphery and you try your best to ignore their presence. Sometimes you feel bad that Mitch seems to be at the receiving end of your cold attitude so often because he’s genuinely a cool guy, but he’s also Harry’s bandmate. It’s aversion by association.
“Great set, guys!”
Jessica and Mitch aren’t officially dating, but they’re fucking. Hanging out. Hence the reason for your frequent visits to this club and to their gigs; she forces you to come and you can never say no to her.
Mitch slings an arm around Jess’ shoulders, kind enough to acknowledge you with a welcoming smile. They’re perfect for each other and you can’t help but let a grin tug at your lips when you see yet again how happy he makes her.
You wish you could have that.
The couple leaves to get drinks, leaving you and Harry alone.
“Didn’t bring your boyfriend?”
Your eyes roll. It’s involuntary at this point how often you do it. “Can you get off of my dick?”
“If you hop on mine.”
Disgust molds your features, “you’re fucking gross.”
He laughs. You don’t find him funny at all.
His grin dims. “Trouble in paradise then?”
“No trouble. He’s just not here.”
You’re lying; you haven’t called Luke in weeks and he hasn’t reached out either. You don’t think that’s going to change.
“So you’re still dating him.”
“Yeah. Does that bother you?”
You watch as his jaw constricts and clenches. Then he shakes his head, surprising you with the silence it’s accompanied by.
And for some reason, it causes a twist in your stomach. A guilty twist, like it’s somehow your fault the air has turned uncomfortable.
It takes you seconds to realize that for the first time since you’ve gotten to know him, he’s failed to deliver a snarky remark or a hurtful comment; anything resembling a testament to the hatred the two of you feel for one another.
It’s like he has something he wants to say, something on the tip of his tongue, but he’s a coward when it comes to relationships and vulnerability, so he can’t bring himself to do it. And you have enough self-respect to not pry it out of him.
“I have a thing in an hour so I’ll get going. Do you need a ride home?”
For some reason, his offer doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. You and Harry can hate each other all you want, but at the end of the day he’ll still care enough to make sure you don’t get harassed on the way home. Somewhat comforting, but only somewhat.
You also know exactly what his thing is, and thinking about it makes you nauseous.
Your first instinct is to say no, but then you pause. Your eyes wander to Jess and Mitch kissing by the bathrooms and you find yourself unable to resist the offer of a ride, as much as you’d hate having to sit in a car with him.
“Yeah, okay.”
Harry’s only confirmation is a subtle nod. He probably hates the idea just as much as you do, but having a death or an injury on one’s conscience can’t feel better than having to endure this.
Most of the ride goes swimmingly, but that’s owed to the silence.
And then you get sick of it, and it all goes downhill.
“You’re the most confusing guy I’ve ever met, you know that?”
His jaw clenches again.
But you don’t stop, probably because the alcohol is finally taking its effect. “You’re mean and as emotionally unavailable as a fucking tree.”
In any other setting he’d probably smile at the comparison, but he’s not in the mood today. He says your name and it resembles a warning.
“I just don’t— I don’t fucking get it. Because you’re nice to everyone else and every one of our friends loves you. But with me you have a problem, with everything I do. I can never do anything right, I’m never right—“
“Do you realize that maybe it’s just you? That you never shut up, that you’re so fucking irritating. You walk around like you’re god-chosen, pretending to know everything better than anyone else. You’re so— it’s so fucking irritating.”
Silence.
He shouldn’t have said anything— least of all anything he didn’t think through beforehand.
But it isn’t his words that terrify you; it’s how he says them. He’s so… genuine. It’s not some halfhearted comment delivered out of spite. No, it’s real, something you can tell he’s kept concealed for a long time out of… what, something he considers kindness?
But you don’t want to self-reflect. You don’t want to open up a can of worms. Instead, your hatred for Harry only flares up. It eats you up and leaves your body in strong waves.
“Pull over.”
You can tell Harry regrets his outburst when he sighs, knuckles turning white as his grip on the steering wheel tightens. “Princess—“
“Pull over, Harry. I want to walk.”
“It’s dangerous out—“
You don’t care anymore, though, his pleas becoming background noise as you’re opening the door and getting ready to step out mid drive. Harry finally gives. He’s not worried about the damage you might’ve caused to his door, he’s worried about your state. How angry you seem and how much alcohol is in your system.
You slam the door shut, hug your blazer closer to your body and start walking.
Guilt spreads in Harry’s chest as he watches you walk away from him. He messed up.
He’s sure there’ll be a special place in hell waiting for him when he sees your shoulders tremble. You’re crying. And it’s all his doing.
His forehead hits the steering wheel.
Fuck this.
—
You’ve always loved watching the stars on your own. You suppose it’s how stuffy the room was that makes this particular viewing significantly more enjoyable, though, the air clinging to your skin in a way that makes you feel protected. The rooftop is secluded, offering a view of the city in its twinkling lights. For a minute, you forget that you’re depressed. You forget that you haven’t spoken to Harry in two months and that it’s left a gaping wanting hole in your chest.
The beer in your hand isn’t cold anymore, your phone has died and your heels are long discarded on the floor somewhere. Your arms are resting on the railing.
You’re a reasonably social person, but the idea of talking to a human being right now makes you want to vomit. And you feel bad, truly bad, because it’s Nina’s birthday. Because you’re having a party in the art gallery she opened earlier this year, because you should be down there celebrating her achievements like all of your friends are doing— and you feel so incredibly selfish for not feeling up to the task. For feeling like you want to fucking cry just because Harry’s here too, and you weren’t expecting him to be.
You hear your name being called. You know exactly who it is; you would probably know by the pattern of his breathing, really, and that realization makes you want to crawl into a hole and never come back up.
“Everyone’s worried about you. You just disappeared.”
Your frown deepens. You can’t look at him right now. “Are they?”
He sounds impatient and you don’t blame him. “Yes. Can you come in?”
You sniffle, “in a minute.”
“Princess—“
“I said in a minute, okay? Just— give me a minute.”
He allows you silence for another minute. Two, actually, before walking closer. You can’t see him, but his presence is loud enough for you to know.
“Are you okay?”
You shake your head, “no.”
“Can I help you with anything?”
“No.” You breathe in deep, readying yourself for something you’ll probably regret later. But the sudden rush of courage is overwhelming, so you’ll take your chances. “I, uh… I’m always terrified of being exposed to hurt. And so I think, as a defense mechanism, I close up around people. At least the ones who show signs of disliking me.” His silence allows you to go on. “And I always got the impression that you hated me. I never knew what I had done, but I knew you didn’t like me, and that sent me into a fucking spiral because I hate when that happens.” You interrupt yourself in a chuckle, watching as lights flicker off in the distance. “And so maybe subconsciously, in the beginning, I made it a mission of mine to make you like me, you know? Which is why I used to try to talk, to keep conversation going, never shut my mouth. And when I realized that wasn’t working, I needed to shut myself off. Keep you as far away as possible because I knew you would hurt me one way or another.” One last deep breath helps you bask in this feeling of relief. For once in your life, you’re being honest.
“And so I know that I can be overbearingly rude, that I get on your nerves, but it’s because…” you can’t bring yourself to say the complete truth, so you modify it a little, “it’s because if you knew the real me, the version that everyone else knows, then you would know how to hurt me. And I didn’t want that to happen.”
His breathing changes, you hear it. You almost can’t believe you would open up like you did, but somewhere deep down you’re also proud of yourself.
“And I’ve realized now that… that somewhere along the way I got swept up in the illusion of it. The nights we spent together getting tattoos and drinking until morning, I took them for something they weren’t because I wanted it all to be real. I wanted for us to be real, I guess, for us to stop hating each other so much. I held onto the hope, but you would never communicate the same to me. And that scared me because I felt like I wasn’t enough for you. But instead of accepting it, I got meaner and more defensive because I felt played.”
“And I know it’s so… it’s so fucking weird for me to say this to you now like it’s some kind of confession, but… I just can’t shut up, so.”
You find it comical how it all flows out of you like water. How easy it seems now and how much of a big deal you used to make it.
“I never hated you.“ He says after a beat of quiet.
“You didn’t?” You ask as you turn around, pressing your back to the railing. He sticks his hands into the pockets of his washed out jeans and walks closer. He stops next to you, his arms resting on the railing. It’s his turn to watch the lights.
“No,” he shakes his head, taking a deep breath to brace himself. “I… when I saw you for the first time, I felt drawn. I thought you were sweet and funny, and you definitely had me wrapped around your fucking finger by the second time we met. It terrified me, how someone like you could have that effect on me.”
“Someone like me?”
“Someone so caring and deserving of something more than I could offer her. What you said at the bar that night, it was true. It was all true. Because I never had to be a gentleman before, you know? I don’t exactly date. You know that.” You do. “And I knew that you could worm your way in and completely change my life if only you wanted to. You could hurt me a million times over and I would forgive you every time.”
You can feel his eyes on you, studying the curve of your nose like it’s something he wants to memorize. “I was insecure. I didn’t want to get hurt, so I chose to scare you off. But it was real, all of it; the nights we spent together, everything in between. I pretended like it wasn’t, but deep down I knew it would come to kick me in the ass.” You laugh at his choice of words; he smiles in return. “Because you’re… you’re perfect for me, you know? And letting myself be happy was too much to ask, so I resorted to being an arse. I figured if I could control how you felt about me, I could control how I felt about you.”
You always thought you and Harry were complete opposites... you’re talkative, Harry’s quiet. You’re warm, Harry’s cold. You can’t take it when people don’t like you, and Harry couldn’t give less of a shit.
But now you know that it isn’t the complete truth. Beneath that superficial layer you know so well, there are similar fears. At it’s base, you’re both scared of hurt. You’re scared of exploring unknown territory and risking everything in the name of something that could leave you heartbroken. It could all be for nothing.
And yet, could it not still be worth it?
“We’re both stupid.”
Harry chuckles, and you’re convinced it’s the most beautiful sound anyone could make.
He taps his fingers against the metal railing, nodding. “That we are.”
For the first time in a long time, the silence you share is comfortable. It isn’t courtesy of having too much to say and yet saying nothing, instead it’s courtesy of having said everything and agreeing it’s enough. For now, at least.
You smile to yourself.
The door opens, revealing a timid Jess.
“Hey guys, we’re about to cut into the cake.”
“We’re coming,” you say, sharing a short look with Harry. The two of you walk down the stairs, Harry behind you and Jess in front.
Nina embraces you, ushering both you and Harry closer. If she noticed you were gone, she doesn’t mention it and you’re thankful for that. Tonight, you just want to be a good friend.
And although you have more to say, you’re not worried. Because it’ll all be fine— you’ll be fine.
Nina blows out her candles, everyone erupts into cheers. You grin, sharing a look with Harry over the rim of your bottle. It’s longer this time, something worth holding onto. His eyes are daring, they’re sure, and most of all, they’re welcoming.
It’s a guarantee of trust, a confirmation of the beginning of a new chapter. And although you’re eager to explore it, you have no doubt in your mind that the story won’t come to an end for a while.
#harry styles#harry styles angst#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic#harry styles x you#harry styles one shot#harry styles series#harry styles x reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles fandom#harry styles x y/n#frat boy harry
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afterparty
frat/hockey!harry styles x reader
summery: after an intense after party from harry winning the game, the fire alarm get set off, revealing a secret relationship
warning: allusions to sex
a/n: TESTS DONE FUCK YEAH
The after party was intense, to put lightly.
After another amazing win by Harry and his team, they organized a party at the frat. Beer, booze, and vodka was all throughout the house—sprite for the designated drivers—and cheers could be heard all along campus.
Y/n and Harry had a quite relationship, no one knew that the future hockey star and the genius future lawyer were dating. An unluckily pair that met during an Economics class, in a time where Y/n had no clue what she wanted to do in her life and Harry had little confidence in his hockey career. They happen to sit next to each other, taking subtle glances at each other. But it was when Y/n noticed Harry’s excelling scores in the math heavy portion of the lesson class that she saw her chance to strike, and start conversation.
It’s all history now. They are older, their last year in college, plans in the works for the rest of their lives; nothing was for certain, except that they would stay together. They are confident, they found their right path and are happy—they just can’t fess up to their friends that their together. They both feel guilt, but it’s their life, and they can inform people on certain aspects of it at the right time.
But at the party, they hung out, talked with friends, drunk, played games, drunk, and made subtle gestures to each other that everyone was too drunk to realize how crude they were. The party was loud, music tearing the eardrums of people as they danced, and it was packed. It was for certain that you would have someone’s sweat on you by the end of the night.
But that wasn’t the after party.
It wasn’t an official party, in fact, only Y/n and Harry were present. It was intimate and loving moment between the couple; close, passionate, and sloppy. They were drunk, so it wasn’t the most complex of sex that they’ve ever had, but it was damn good.
The aftermath of laying naked in Harry’s bed was just as great, sobering up and loving the heat radiating from each other. Harry had his face buried in Y/n’s chest, arms wrapped snuggly around the women’s torso as Y/n had her hands mixed in his hair, massaging his scalp nicely. Harry’s thumb was softly rubbing her skin, brushing away any and all insecurities she had.
Harry softly hummed when he was drifting off, a way to not let his mind wonder to worrisome thoughts and that was subtle enough to allow Y/n to rest. He liked making up melodies or replicating some song he heard at the gym.
His humming was coming to a end though—Y/n’s heart rate was softening and causing Harry’s to do the same, he was drifting off, mind mush of wacky dreams of Y/n. She had fallen asleep around five minutes into his humming, passing out after the exhausting party and the even more tiring sex, but made sure her love for Harry was known to settle any worrying midnight doubts.
A loud blaring alarm ruined their night though. Harry had fully awoken first since not being in REM in the first place. He turning over and noticed the sound coming from the fire alarm. His eyes went wide as he used his arms that were around Y/n and gripped her hard, pulling her up with him and waking her in the process.
“Wha’s that noise.” She mumbled, eyes not even fully open.
“Fire alarm. We need to get out.” Harry had put a sweatshirt of his on Y/n guiding it through her head and then put boxers on straight after.
He grabbed a pair of boxers for himself, turning around to see Y/n a little more awake as she put her arms in the sleeves and stood up. Harry was panicking, so he did the sane thing and lifted her up and took her through the house to the closest exit.
Him and Y/n were met with the cold wind of three in the morning. Other members of the team were outside the house, all equally shivering and trying to warm themselves up in their boxers and shirts. A few were straggling behind the couple, but no one until Louis noticed there was one more person accounted here then what should be.
“Alright, who’s extra is here!” Louis shouted over the alarms. “I’m gonna need to know for the report!”
The guys murmured, snickering about one of their friends getting cocked block by a fire; until the eyes fell on the only guy in plane boxers, hugging someone to his chest, Harry.
“Damn, Harry?”
Laughs roared out as the boys nudged one another. Louis smiled and walked over to his best friend.
“Alright!” He called out the group of boys, getting them back into their own business. Louis looked over the couple, curious as to who the girl it. But when he heard the voice, he was shook.
“Hey Louis.” Y/n mumbled, still a little out of it.
“Y/n?” His mouth is open, head looking up at Harry and then back at the girl; his frat brothers watch the interaction too, all tsking and others smiling, mumbling about getting some cash and pizzas. “No fucking way—are you two just hooking up or..?”
“Together.” Harry asserts, arms tensing more around his girlfriend. “Don’t get any ideas, dick.”
Louis put his hands up, stepping back. “Hey. I wouldn’t, just glad everyone’s out here and safe.”
Louis went over to the fire chief, probably telling them what he knows. Harry hugs Y/n though, looking for a bit of comfort with his friends peering eyes. One of the reasons Harry was unwilling to tell the boys about his relationship is just how much they liked Y/n; he knew damn well she was hot and sexy, so did the other boys, and if they knew she’d be around a lot—no way they wouldn’t make their lives a living hell.
“You good, H?” She whispered softly, thumb stroking Harry’s arm.
“Cold.” Is all he spoke, but Y/n wasn’t buying it.
“Embarrassed?” Y/n offered.
Harry shook his head and kissed his girlfriends shoulder. “Never embarrassed of you, love.” Harry hesitated before continuing. “Just don’t like the idea of the boys knowing we sleep together—I’m terrified for the pranks their going to pull to try and get you to go out with them now.”
Y/n smiled kindly at the dumb boy, he was lovable, but he could be a little stupid sometimes. “No prank or shirtless boy could take me away from you.” She chided.
She squeezed Harry’s Harry’s hand three times, then another three times after. I love you.
After a minute of Louis using wild hand and arm gestures to the fire captain, he finally rallied the boys and Y/n back and gave told them the cost was clear. “And Niall?”
“Yeah mate?”
“Never put another pop tart in the toaster ever again.” Every had an annoyed groan and people started to, playfully, shove the man for interrupting their sleep while simultaneously laughing that he cocked blocked Harry.
“We were sleeping!” Harry would shout back at any man that made that same joke which only made them burst out with laughter even more.
Eventually, since the damages were only a ruined toaster, everyone went back inside and Y/n and Harry snuggled under the covers. Although Harry would never admit it, he loved being the little spoon but facing inwards so his face would rest on Y/n’s boobs, and that’s exactly their current position now.
“Think maybe we should spend tomorrow night at mine?” Y/n offered. “Think Lila is there though.”
Harry snuggled even closer to his girl, drifting off slowly. “Maybe we should just move in together.”
Y/n giggled softly. “As much as I’d love that we are broke uni students. Wait till your off playing Hockey professionally and I have my job; then we’ll talk.”
“Hmmk.” Harry hummed. “Can’t wait until we don’t have to be quite anymore when we have sex.”
“I think you mean you don’t have to be quite anymore.” Y/n sighed softly.
“‘scuse me for telling ya how good ya feel.” Harry words were slowly slurring together, but also talking about sex slowly got him riled up.
“Let go to sleep before you get hard.” Y/n sighed. “Too early for morning wood.”
“Never to early to be horny for you babe.” Harry shifted his body and slightly rolled the couple over so Harry was completely on top of Y/n. “Could fuck you right now.”
“Sure you can.” Y/n said, eyes closed but knowing Harry’s are nearly there too. “Tomorrow we can wake your mates up so let’s save it for then.”
“Alright.” Harry kissed his loves nose. “Love you.”
“Love you more.”
“Love you most.”
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles blurb#harry styles fic#harry edward styles#college!harry#hockey!harry#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles collage#harry styles oneshot#fratboy!harry#frat!harry
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I love tattooarrist harry and baker!y/n so much!! Can we please have more of them🥺🥺
No big deal; h.s.
Pairing:
Tattooartist!harry x baker!y/n
Summary:
"I don't see the problem we were just staying in." He tries to defend himself his eyebrows furrowing, a common tell sign that he was getting worked up, "Me and Niall had a good fuckin day at work so we decided to celebrate. We can do date night another day no big deal."
POV:
Y/n's
Warnings: Slight angst
I watch as the candle slowly melts with a sigh leaving my mouth, the cold dinner left untouched and the wine was left getting warm. I look up at the clock and my frown deepens.
I'll be back at 8, just me and you tonight love.
His charismatic voice with a wink rings through my mind. The clock taunts me with the hands striking 10, finally deciding he wasnt showing, I shoved my chair back the legs of the chair weeping from the tension against the wooden floor, and started picking up the dinner left to waste. Wrapping Harry's plate in plastic wrap i shove it in the fridge when a black ball of fur swivels its way between my legs, matilda meows sorrowful and i give her a light smile.
"He probably had to work late 'tilda." I hum giving her a pat before walking towards our bedroom.
As i sit on our bed I pull my phone out and scroll through my contacts, clicking his name i put my phone to my ear and wait as the sound of the ringing vibrates through my ear.
I obviously couldn't answer I'm probably busy at work or with y/n. If it's important give her a call.
I let out a frustrated huff at the voicemail, "Where the hell are you? We had plans tonight remember? Just give me a call back please."
My body jolts as i hear the sound of keys jingle and the front door snapping open. I grab ahold of my glasses on the side table shoving them on and looking at the clock, 2:00 A.M. glares back at me. Are you actually kidding me? I put on my house shoes and walk towards the living area of the apartment, i watch as Harry pour himself a glass of water.
"And where the hell have you been?" I ask sharply as i glare at him, my hands on my hips Harry stops pouring the water and turns towards me with a frown.
"Out with Niall." He states bluntly taking a swig of water, a harsh laugh escapes my mouth and i nod.
"Did you forget something?" I ask with a sarcastic smile on my face.
He looks as if he's trying to remember something then shakes his head, "not that i recall."
Thats the fire that ignites my anger, "You made plans for us tonight! You wanted to have a nice quiet night in. I fucking made dinner, I had picked out a bath bomb for us to use. I even left work three hours early for this!"
"I don't see the problem we were just staying in." He tries to defend himself his eyebrows furrowing, a common tell sign that he was getting worked up, "Me and Niall had a good fuckin day at work so we decided to celebrate. We can do date night another day no big deal."
No big deal.
"No big deal?!" I snap taking a step in his direction, "We barely get to spend any time together because you're always working late, you fucking promised me tonight and you broke that promise. You come home six hours later from a pub and expect me not to be upset? I mean fuck Harry!" I huff massaging my temples.
"Well maybe you should have called me!" He bites and i sigh shaking my head.
"You know what, this isnt even worth it." I hum grabbing my keys from the key rack.
"Where the hell are you going?" He asks moving over towards me.
"Martha's."
"Dont do this," he sighs, "look i'm sorry okay just dont leave please."
I take a look at him, his eyes heavy with exhaustion, hair disheveled and a frown on his pretty pink lips before taking a deep breath, "i need some time to think and breathe before i make a mistake and do something irrational, if we keep going at this it'll turn out that way. Please respect my wishes."
His frown deepens and brows furrow further, "be back tomorrow?"
"I have work all day, i'll be back at 8." I spit his words back at him before throwing the door open and making my escape.
"...all im saying is he's a prick, plain and simple make him suffer." Martha states as she wipes down the colourful table.
Marthas been giving me a lecture since i walked into her little cottage yesterday at 2 in the morning and she hasnt stopped. I walked in the bakery with a frown at 6 A.M. and it hasnt came off the entire day, regulars constantly coming in giving me a sympathetic smile and wishing my day well.
"But Martha..."
"No but, no nothing. Dont give me that bullshit, sure he loves you and you love him but its the principle of the matter." She hums sitting in an old rustic arm chair next to the bean bags. "Think of it this way, if it was the other way around; him staying home making the dinner and you didnt show till ass crack in the mornin', he would do the same shit. Walk his pretty ass out of the house and drive off to Niall's."
I huff as i plop myself on the bright pink beanbag bringing my palms to my eyes trying to rub out the migraine that was destined to form. I know she's right he would be upset if it was the other way around, and the fact that he was being so blunt and  careless was very disrespectful.
"So what now?" I ask picking at my nails.
"You wait till he apologises."
I let out a deep sigh, "Martha I was also wrong for just walking out."
"No you werent, you told him yourself. You would have done some stupid shit that you didnt mean if you stayed there." She replies sharply, "and while he's at the apologising tell him to come clean the damn tables and dishes."
I let out a snort and shake my head, glancing at the clock 8 o'clock is staring back at me, Martha looks at the clock and hums.
"You can go, Nat is here so she can help clean up."
"No, i'll stay." I smile at her before snatching her rag out of her hands and smirking at her, "get up you old hag it's deep cleaning day."
She gapes at me then glares, "fuck that shit, you can do that yourself for calling me an old hag!"
I look at the clock on my dashboard, 10:30 it reads. Letting out a huff i grab my purse and some desserts I decide to bring home, everything will be fine i hoped. Walking up to the door i let one last deep sigh out before making my way through. The sound of things being knocked over make me jump slightly, looking up towards the dining area i see Harry with blood shot eyes and a blotchy face.
"You're home." He croaks out smiling at me with watery eyes.
"Yeah, stayed late to help Martha deep clean." I mumble sitting my purse on the coat rack and my keys on the key holder.
"I- um I made dinner for us." He chirps pointing to the meal on the table, "chicken parm your favourite."
I give him a weak smile before nodding and walking towards the dining table, looking at the meal my heart pulls. "Thank you thats thoughtful of you."
"No it's not, it's the bare minimum, you shouldn't thank me for this." He sighs shaking his head, "i have neglected you for weeks y/n. Making you promises and never pulling through, telling you we'd spend time together but it never happens. When you left last night, i um i got to thinking and do you know how many dates i've fallen through on?" He ask and i shake my head, not really one to keep count on things like that, "six, fucking six, that is six to many. I wanna make it up to you, i decided to cut back on my hours-"
"Harry you didnt-"
"I know i didnt have to, i wanted to." He smiles grabbing ahold of my hands, "i want to spend a lot more time with you, i want to be there for you the way you've been there for me."
Tears stream down my face as i smile at him letting out a chuckle, "i'm sorry for leaving."
"Dont be sorry, i would've left to if i was you."
A/N: oh my god :') hello guys i miss yall so fucking much its insane first off thank you so much for the request anon<3 i've been dealing with personal shit and just been in a reading (and writing) slump </3 and i've also been waiting for someone to request something so thank youuuuu!!!! I hope you guys enjoyed as much as i enjoyed writing this<3
-All the love,
em
Xo🐝
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x plus size reader#harry styles x poc#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry update#harry x reader#harry angst#harry x y/n#tattooartist!harry baker!reader#frat boy harry#harry fluff#harry au#harry smut#harrys house#long hair harry#harry styles x y/n#harry styles masterlist#harry styles moodboard#all the love#em#bee#baker!reader#tattoo artist harry#poc!reader#harrystyles x reader#harry x poc!reader
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stupid
DATE: MARCH 27, 2023
summary: as a challenge, you try to get yourself out of handcuffs. eventually, you find yourself unsuccessful, leaving you confined to your bed. when your roommate harry sees your predicament, he can’t help but be a little turned on, especially when he notices that you are too.
song: invisible string- taylor swift
words: 5.8k
warnings: SMUT (f-receiving [fingering, bondage {handcuffs}], m-receiving [masturbation], praise kink, unprotected sex [coming inside], dirty talk), some pining, and language
note: a cheesy ass storyline but it still has me in a chokehold. also, i’m posting this at 3 am :D (sorry if the gif is all weird)
fratrry x college!reader (my favorite pairing 🤭)
—
“Oh, fuck me.”
It was stupid—you were so stupid.
Your heart falls in a panic as you thrash around on your bed, trying to break the cuffs surrounding your wrists.
You got caught up in a video. Some stupid video you scrolled to on the internet that explained how to escape handcuffs in an emergency. With a Bobby pin. You watched the full thing out of curiosity and boredom, but then decided to try it.
Because why the hell not, right?
Who the hell has a Bobby pin in an emergency? You didn’t think about this part until after you were stuck.
You rummaged through your messy closet, searching for the cuffs. Luckily, you were a bit of a hoarder and kept mainly everything you bought. One year for Halloween you were a cop (basic, but cute), so of course you had handcuffs when you bought the outfit.
Huh, they’re way nicer than you remember.
Snatching the handcuffs, you sat back on your bed and rewatched the video again. The demonstrator was handcuffed to the leg of a table while the instructor showed the camera and directed the viewers. Once you felt confident enough, you were going to attempt it.
At this moment, you didn’t think twice about how stupid it might be.
You looked around your room for somewhere to practice. You didn’t want to use the table in the small dining room because it was crowded with stuff on it. Plus, you didn’t want your roommate, Harry, to walk through the door and see you doing another stupid thing you found on the internet.
The amount of times he’s caught you doing something strange is ridiculous. To anyone else, it would be embarrassing. But Harry is your best friend, who is able to keep up with your madness, and who you might maybe have a crush on. Okay fine, it was a big, fat, stupid crush.
90% of the time your internet attempts were some type of trick that ends in something breaking.
But this—this has got to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever attempted.
Your eyes circled around the entire room before you landed on your bedpost.
Stable. Unmoving. Bingo.
Reaching up and turning your head, you locked one of the cuffs to your wrist. Then you grab the small pin in the other hand. You loop the chain around the pole and cuff that hand. Facing the locked cuffs, you cramp your hand in a certain way that allows you to ram the pin into the lock hole. You twist it easily and free yourself from the cuffs.
You smirk to yourself at how easy it was. You decide to do it another time. And then another. You got confident with the movements, so you switched the pin to your non-dominant hand. It was slightly trickier, but you were still able to release yourself.
Knowing yourself, you wouldn’t stop until the challenge became a real challenge. So you decided to make it a little harder.
You made sure your body was facing forward, away from the post, before looping the chain around the wooden pole. You clicked the cuff on your left wrist, locking you to the post.
Now, you would try to unlock the cuffs blindly.
With the pin in your dominant hand, you try to maneuver it so it can reach the lock opening. You feel around with your fingers as much as they allow, trying to picture where the hole is. Thinking you felt it, you confidently jam the pin into it before twisting it.
However, your confidence failed you because you were too cocky. The pin slides through one of the chain links that you mistook for the lock hole and slips from your fingers. You let out a small gasp as it does, realizing what position you’ve gotten yourself into this time.
“Oh, fuck me.”
It was stupid—you were so stupid.
Your heart falls in a panic as you thrash around on your bed, trying to break the cuffs surrounding your wrists. Your eyes dodge around the room, trying to think of a solution. You notice the key to the cuffs lying tantalizingly on the bed. It was way too close for you to reach it with your foot, and you obviously couldn’t bend your head down to grab it.
There was only one thing you would do; wait for Harry to come home.
—
Harry presses a button on the treadmill, slowing down the conveyor belt beneath him. He huffs and puffs, trying to catch his breath. Even though he feels like he’s killing himself at the gym sometimes, he can’t help but love the feeling afterwards. That post-workout sensation that motivates him to get up and walk in the gym the next day. It was addicting to say the least.
As he steps off the treadmill, his phone begins to buzz. He looks down at the contact, feeling his heart buzz similarly at the name. He slips his finger across the glass, answering your FaceTime call.
“What’s up?” Harry answers the phone, holding it up so you could see his sweaty face while he stares at your ceiling. He packs up his bag and heads towards the locker rooms.
“I need help,” You shout, loudly enough so Harry could hear you from the phone, which was at the end of the bed. You had finally used some cells in your brain to use Siri to FaceTime him. Harry scrunches his eyebrows and stands stucksill in the middle of the locker room. Without hesitation, he starts to head for the exit of the building, thinking you’re in some type of life-threatening emergency.
“What? Are you okay?” Harry speaks anxiously as he reaches his car and turns the engine on.
“I’m fine! I’m fine! I just need you to…help me out,” You reassure hastingly with a grunt, continuing to thrash around as if that’s going to work.
It hasn’t for the past half hour.
Harry’s heart calms down a few beats, since your life clearly isn’t threatened. He hears the clanging of the metal to the wood.
“What’s that noise?” He questions, scrunching his nose.
“It’s, um, me,” You squeak vaguely. It was so embarrassing that the words couldn’t even leave your mouth without a cringe rolling through your body.
In a flashing moment, the pieces finally clicked in Harry’s head.
“You did another challenge again, didn’t you?” You stayed silent, too stubborn to admit that he was right and that you were stupid. He knew you well enough to know that your silence meant he was right, so he scoffed and groaned before hanging up the phone.
After parking in his usual spot, he grabs his gym bag and heads for your shared apartment. He trudges up the stairs, his legs brutally sore after today. Harry fumbles with the keys until he unlocks the door. When he walks in, he instantly hears you shouting his name in relief.
“Harry! Oh my god!” Harry knew it was wrong to be thinking the way he was thinking, but he couldn’t help it.
He imagined those words as moans spewing from your mouth as you lie underneath him. He envisioned fucking you deep and slow so you’d feel every inch of him. If he lingered on the idea long enough, he could imagine the depth of your cunt as he sinks into it, all wet and snug around his cock. Your hands would pull on his hair as he said the most sinful things to you. Some nights he had to conjure this type of fantasy to relieve himself, and he felt selfish every time.
He couldn’t believe that he was turned on simply from your voice.
God, he wanted you so bad.
Throwing his gym bag on the messy table, he heads for your room and discards his thoughts. The door is wide open, and before he even gets inside, he’s facing your predicament.
Your arms are raised above your head while your wrists remain trapped in metal confinements. Your body was slumped, probably tired from trying to escape. Your chest rises up and down in frustration. He could sense the irritation radiating off of you. It was laughable. Very, very laughable.
But his mind wandered back to his thoughts from a few minutes ago when he imagined pounding into you. Now, in his new fantasy, you were cuffed to your bed. Just like you are now, you wouldn’t be able to have your hands in his hair, but he’d lower his head in between your legs this time. The thought—the sight— of you in those cuffs was about to send him in a spiral.
He was half hard.
“Fuck me,” He muttered, closing his eyes and inhaling sharply.
“Are you going to help me or just stand there and watch my misery?”
“I don’t know, I kind of like it,” Harry teased, being honest, but not in the way you probably thought.
You weren’t the type for one-night stands. But when he saw you bring home the person you were dating (at the time), some deep, unwanted feeling burned in his stomach. Harry eventually labeled the feeling as hatred; he hated everyone you brought home, no matter how nice they were in the morning aftermath. You and Harry got too close, too friendly for anything like that to be allowed.
So, he would invite girls over because he realized he couldn’t have you. And eventually that created a cycle he couldn’t break because, again, he couldn’t have you. He couldn’t break it without you. No amount of girls or any other girls made him feel the way you made him feel.
He thought whatever he was feeling for you made him weak, but it really made him stronger, better.
Now, he stood a few feet from your bed, arms crossed in amusement. He hopes that if he joked enough you wouldn’t notice the bulge growing in his gym shorts.
You felt a rush of heat creep up your neck at his words. Although he can be sweet and soft, Harry was as much of a frat boy as the rest of them. He talked women up and brought them back to his room with his panty-melting smirk. You couldn’t help but envy them every time you heard the noises they made, knowing that Harry was the one causing them. Your stupid crush and hormonal body made his words sound like some sexual innuendo, but you knew Harry wouldn’t truly have any intentions behind it.
So what if he makes flirty, teasing comments that make your stomach drop and your heart race a million miles an hour? They weren’t intentional and he does it with everyone.
“Like it? Kinky shit,” You mumbled to yourself as your neck burns up, but of course Harry wasn’t going to let that slide. He was going to have a little fun with it.
“What did you say?” Harry leaned towards you with his ear, now wandering closer to your bed. You glared at him in irritation.
“Nothing. Just open the cuffs!” You said, ignoring him without making eye contact.
“No, I don’t think I will. This is quite fun actually,” He crosses his arms and smugly smiles, teetering on his feet. He should have left by now to take care of his erection that’s pulsing in his shorts, but he’s having too much fun. This is truly one of the stupidest things you’ve done. You roll your eyes as you wriggle your wrists pathetically, attempting a lost cause. Harry laughs, clearly enjoying your misery.
“Do you get off on this or something?”
“Maybe,” Harry shrugs. You don’t know why, but your heart skipped a beat and your neck continued to be aflame. The slight thought that Harry might be attracted to you, even if it was you at your mercy, caught you off guard. Slightly. “You have to admit it’s a little arousing.”
Your heart rate increases as he steps closer to you, eyes doe-y and wide as you take in the view. Every comeback or quick wit washes away from you.
“Is it?” He asks.
“Is it what?” You try to focus on the conversation, but it’s hard when his post-workout body is standing only inches away from you. In any other scenario, you would have pushed him away or brushed off his comment. But you can’t run away this time. Instead of looking at him, you stare at some spot on the floor.
“Is it arousing for you? To be all helpless and needy?” His voice is taunting. His words caused your cunt to instinctively clench, making your thighs do the same. His eyesight peered at your legs for a moment, hopefully not noticing the action.
“No,” You lied straight through your teeth. Your hands turned into fists as you dug your nails into your palms, trying to keep it together.
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes,” No.
“I don’t like liars, Y/N,” Harry raises his eyebrows in a hurtful way and then slowly starts backing away. You shake your head in confusion as he heads for the door. “Now, I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be back.”
“Harry Edward Styles, do not leave me here!” You shout as you squirm for the millionth time. But he leaves and walks out of the room. He purposefully leaves the door open and heads down the hall into your shared bathroom.
Harry had a plan. If you weren’t willingly going to tell him you were aroused, which it was very obvious that you are, he would tease you. It was his greatest strength.
After turning on the shower and stripping from his clothes, he purposefully leaves his door open too, so you can hear everything. Once he gets in, he doesn’t hesitate to take his aching erection in his palm. He strokes his length as his body gets lathered in water.
Pictures of you with the cuffs appear in his head; helpless, needy, and vulnerable, just like he said. Based on your reactions, he could tell you were turned on by something and Harry was sure to crack you. He’s been waiting for this moment for a long time. Now, all he has to do is not fuck up.
He imagines you squirming underneath him as he rubs your clit, desperate for relief and freedom from the confinements.
“Harry!” You called out, but it was hopeless. You could hear him in the shower, taunting you. Your mind went straight to the image of his naked body and pictured it above you. You’ve never even seen him fully naked, but just the thought of it aroused you even more.
His strokes became faster as you shouted, rubbing his thumb over his leaking slit. In his mind, he translated them as moans of his name, which motivated him to pump brisker.
“Fuck, Y/N,” He groaned loud, for once hoping you heard him.
His balls tighten as another fantasy explores his mind: you on your knees, cuffs behind your back, as you suck his cock. Your eyes peering up at him innocently with tears brimming your ducts would send him into a lustful frenzy. He moaned noisily, his sounds bouncing off the tiled walls and down the hall.
You could hear everything. Including the way his name groggily fell from his lips in that sultry voice you only heard in dreams. Your panties dampened with each loud groan, forcing you to bend your knees toward your chest and rub them together to stop the nearly painful ache.
It was so unfair.
“I’m gonna come, angel,” He nearly whined as his palm slammed on the shower wall, fist pumping fiercely to reach his orgasm. The name slipped from his mouth, but it fit you perfectly.
A small whimper elicited from your lips at his noises, your legs crossing together in agony. You controlled yourself to not roll your hips in the air, because that was rock-bottom level pathetic, no matter how badly you needed him. This was torture.
His knees nearly buckled when his orgasm hit him hard, his balls squeezing and shaft twitching. Spurts of his release paint the walls that are soon washed away by the water as he calms himself down. With breathy sounds and dazed movements, he completes the rest of his shower before turning the water off and wrapping a towel around his waist.
He barely wastes time drying off before waltzing back into your room. Staring at your helpless figure caused a familiar ache in his cock, even though he just had an orgasm. He was insatiable when it came to you apparently.
Your eyes shot daggers at Harry, freshly showered and smelling like some woodsy soap that only reminded you of him. A white towel hung low around his waist and water droplets stuck to his body like he was straight out of a rom-com film. The burning in your lower belly and the pulsing between your legs never ceased. Your chest was rising quicker than it should have for being chained to the bed.
“Something you want to say?” Harry taunted with that smug smirk plastered on his face, slowly padding towards your bed.
His eyes pierced into yours, trying to force you into admitting. He sat on the edge of your bed beside your bare legs with the towel daring to slip off. Your head told you to not fall for his longing gaze while your body begged you to submit.
Your logic could only take you so far with the overpowerment of your body.
“No,” You replied with clenched teeth.
“No?”
He brought his hand to smooth over your shins, firing bolts of electricity straight to your clit. You involuntarily squeezed your thighs again to dull the ache, and you hated yourself for how obvious your arousal was. Harry slightly tilted his head condescendingly innocent, waiting for your response. But you tightly bit your bottom lip, refusing to say another word. You didn’t trust your next breath because if he kept touching you, you’d moan from just his hands on your knees.
“Hypothetically,” You didn’t like where this was going. It was scary, out-of-the-friend-zone territory. “If I were to check, you’re saying you wouldn’t be wet at all?”
You bit on your tongue. Hard. Harry shouldn’t be allowed to say the word “wet” in his deep, post-orgasm voice. When he touches you, you shouldn’t cave so easily.
Why did you have to like him? Your best friend and your roommate? That’s setting yourself up for failure.
Being the stubborn person that you are, you still continued to play snarky, even if you were soaking so much in your panties that you might be leaking through your shorts. “Not a single drop.”
“So you wouldn’t mind if I jus’ took a look, right? I know you jus’ love being right,” His hands rub along your legs until they’re on your knees and lower thighs.
He’s not wrong, and you hate that. Why does he have to make everything so difficult? He could simply just unlock the cuffs and go back into his room like nothing happened. So why is he making such a big deal about it? Unless he…no way.
“Go right ahead,” You tried to sound confident, but you squeaked, heart beating rapidly. Did he want this as much as you?
A sly smirk creeps onto his lips as his palms snake higher up your legs until they’re at the hem of your shorts. Your breath hitches in your throat, too afraid to make any noise because it might betray you. How does one act unaffected when they are very much affected?
“Gonna take these off now,” He narrates, and then slowly slides off your shorts. You didn’t breathe, just watched it happen. Your heart was running a marathon in your chest, and you thought you might go into cardiac arrest. With your shorts now on the floor, your legs remain closed. You know that the second you open them you will be proven wrong.
Harry’s fingers sneak in between your thighs and practically pry them open, your right leg hanging off the bed. You gasp at the sudden vulnerability and sharply turn your head in embarrassment. You can feel his smirk and piercing eyes burn into your skin screaming “told you so” while he tsks, but he doesn’t openly say it. He caresses your upper thighs, so close to your panty line.
“Aw,” He says patronizingly when his hands pinch the sensitive skin of your thighs, causing you to subtly roll your hips toward him with a small yelp. “Helpless and needy.”
“Harry,” You tried to sound threatening, but it was breathy and quiet. “We…can’t.”
“Why not?” His reply was instant, almost too fast for you to register. His hand gripped your thigh, making you whimper shyly. You didn’t have a valid reason why you couldn’t.
The worst thing that would happen is that you would fall in love with him and he would leave you in the dust, just like every other one of his hook-ups. You didn’t want to be that to Harry. If you two did this, would everything you guys have built as friends just go to waste? Would you have to move out and find a new place?
“I don’t just want to be another one of your hook-ups. When I have sex, it means something to me,” Why did you always have to make it so difficult? God, you’ve wanted him for the longest time and you’re saying this? He’s just going to run away. He doesn’t want to deal with this shit.
“Y/N, I promise you’re not jus’ another one of those girls. If you knew what I was thinkin’...”
“What are you thinking?” You whispered. His fingers trail up to your panties and tickle the area of your mound. You gasp, as the pad of his thumb presses to your clit. It pulses and throbs beneath him, begging to be touched without the barrier of the thin fabric.
“Want to feel you wrapped ‘round me while I’m deep inside of you,” He informed gravely, eyes concentrated on his own fingers. You whimper again, pushing your hips into his touch. “Want to hear your sweet noises.”
“Oh,” You bite your lip harshly.
“Want to kiss you. Everywhere. Want to wake up and see you next to me. Want to come home to you in my bed, in my clothes.”
“Harry,” This time, his name fell from your lips as a delicate moan, endeared by his words. Your mind becomes hazy from everything; his touch, his voice, his words. You only need one thing now. “Please.”
That’s all he needed. He gradually slips off your panties until they’re joining your shorts on the floor. The air breezes over your drenched cunt, contrasting the burning of your skin. His thumb rubs over your bundle of nerves again, but this time you mewl at the bare contact.
“You’re soaked, angel,” Voice rough and deep, he grunts as his middle finger teases your wet folds. You buck into his hand, desperate for more. Harry’s lips curl into that familiar smirk before he slips his finger inside.
You moan noisily, not trying to remain quiet anymore. You didn’t care. His digit runs deep, nudging your G-spot. The deeper he went, the more your folds could feel his icy cold ring. You panted and wheezed embarrassingly when he slipped his ring finger inside. He pumps torturing slowly, making it possible for you to feel every detail of his skin sliding in and out of you. Your eyes roll back while your hips squirm under him. He glides his opposite hand beneath your T-shirt, thumbs caressing the underside of your breast.
“Harry, fuck,” Your stomach burned. Actually, everything burned. Your wrists struggled against the metal. Your muscles coiled tightly, alerting you that you were getting close. You weren’t surprised that he had you on the brink of an orgasm in a matter of a few minutes.
“Am I making you feel good, angel?” Lustful and sensual, Harry began to pump faster, realizing you were close. Your back arched toward him, seeking to be closer. You wanted to be melting into his skin because you were so attached to him.
“So good, H. I’m close,” You mewled as his thumb brushed over your pebbled nipple. He multi-tasked; his index finger and thumb twisted your aching nipple while his other hand curled deliciously inside of you. Your walls squeezed his digits and your legs began to spasm at the overwhelming sensations.
Not a second later, you felt a wave of relief flush over your body. Your heart thumped rapidly against your ribs and your face scrunched in undeniable pleasure. Harry’s movements slowed as he helped you ride out your unforgettable orgasm.
“You’re so pretty when you come, baby,” Harry compliments, still caressing your breast. You wearily smile, heat burning your skin from his words. He raises his fingers up to his own mouth and licks away your release. For some reason, you opened your mouth thinking he was going to put them in yours.
His eyebrows raise and that cocky smirk comes back before he’s laying his damp digits on your tongue. You suck, swirling your tongue erotically as he barely moves them. Your glossy eyes remain locked on his, never looking away.
“Fuck,” He mumbles before yanking them out of your mouth. His cock twitches impatiently under the towel, neglected. “Dirty girl, huh?” It was your turn to smirk now.
“Need to be inside of you,” He removes the towel and you nearly faint right there. Long and thick, his cock was pink and pulsing at the tip. Precum oozed from his slit and you had the urge to put him in your mouth just like his fingers had been. Harry’s eyes looked at you like he was hungry, and if he didn’t have you he would starve.
“H, what the hell,” You wheezed as he spread your legs wider apart and stroked his painful erection with his palm.
“What?” He questions, hissing as he looks at your soaking pussy again. He never wants to forget the sight of you fucking drenched for him. He’s wanted this too long and too much for this to be a simple one-time thing.
He knows that the second he enters you, you are his. No one else’s. He’s going to ruin you for every other man.
“You’re… huge. Where have you been hiding that thing?” Panting, you start to get nervous. Everything becomes so real. This wasn’t a part of your imagination or some fantasy you conjured up. Harry was really in front of you, and he just gave you a mind-blowing orgasm.
You force yourself to get out of your head and live in the moment for once.
Harry chuckles hoarsely, and leads his tip towards your entrance. His body hovers over yours, face cradling in your neck. “Fuck, my condoms are in my room–”
“I’m on birth control.”
“I–are y’sure? About this, I mean.”
“I’ve never been more ready,” You smile at him endearingly. If your hands were free, you would have stroked his cheek.
“And I’ve also never been so impatient–” Cutting you off, Harry finally slides into you a couple of inches. You both share a string of groans and moans at the completely bare contact. You were more snug around Harry than he’d imagined—he thought he was going to come on the spot. He’s barely halfway in and you already feel a stretch.
More arousal leaks from you while your walls throb around him. His lips press into the skin of your neck and you inhale that woodsy scent again like flavored oxygen. Like you need it to live. His damp hair tickles your neck while your chest moves rapidly with the beat of your heart. You wish you could lace your hands through it.
“I need you to move, H,” You whisper, so quietly that if he wasn’t so close to you he probably wouldn’t have heard.
Obeying your request, he pulls out almost all the way before sinking back into you. Most of his length is in you as he pumps leisurely. Harry grits his teeth as your walls flutter around him, clutching him like a goddamn vice. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He doesn’t want to ruin this by going too hard. He wants to savor this moment forever. He repeats the action a few times before you get frustratingly impatient.
“Harry, I need more. Please,” Your words of plead cause him to screw his eyes shut.
“I don’t want to hurt you, angel.”
“Big ego you got there,” You roll your eyes as you rock your hips towards his. “Fuck me like you hate me. Please.”
A wavering sigh falls from his lips before he yanks himself completely out of you. You thought for a moment that you scared him off, but then, his cock slams back into you. An echoing moan bounces off the walls of the room while he pounds roughly.
His pace is brutal and concentrated, the head of his dick repeatedly hitting that sensitive spot inside of you. Your pussy clenches him, never wanting to let him go. Harry bucks his hips, ramming into your cunt at a new angle. Out of instinct, you go to move your hands to touch him, but are painfully reminded that you can’t.
“I want to touch you,” You plead, thrashing your wrists within the metal cuffs.
“No,” Grunting, he thrusted impossibly deeper–he practically melted into you.
You groan while he lifts up your left leg to shift it. He moves strategically and briskly, his thrusts never falting. Your eyes spin to the back of your head while the world around you seems to fade away. The only things that existed were you and Harry. But even in this moment, you two felt like you were one. When his lips began littering soft, pinched kisses on your neck, you thought you were going to lose it.
“Oh my God, Harry,” You sighed, hazy in bliss. Every ridge and vein of his cock could be felt through each hearty thrust. His noises varied from deep growls and soft moans, and you swear with just his sounds you teetered closer to your second orgasm.
“So fuckin’ tight, angel,” His breath fanned over your neck that was being covered in his love bites. The noises that fell from your lips were uncontrollable; you didn’t care if your neighbors could hear and you didn’t care if they would send a complaint the next day.
“Kiss me, H,” He didn’t hesitate to listen. After months of waiting, his lips finally collided with yours.
Interlocking, your lips molded together like the perfect experiment. Your chemistry bubbled up and created a flame the color of ecstasy. A firework of emotions burst all around you. He never halts his movements, pumping barbarically in and out while his tongue explores your mouth. To kill you even more, his free hand slips down in between you both and rubs your throbbing clit with a brutal pace.
How does he know how, when, and where to hit?
You become overwhelmed with feeling; everything was so pleasant and blissful, even if the scene was unbelievably dirty, it just aroused you more. Even if it was too much, you somehow couldn’t get enough.
He mumbles profanities as you squeeze his shaft firmly because that familiar wave was so close. Just a few more thrusts…
“Killin’ me every time you do that, baby.”
“I’m gonna come. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” As you spoke, your muscles tightened and your legs wrapped around his torso, forcing him lower inside. He groans as you clenched around him again, orgasm finally releasing from you. Broken moans echo throughout the room as your high causes you to feel floaty. Your heart thumps in euphoria and overwhelming affection. Surrounded in a cloud of rapture, the only thing on your mind was to have him come inside of you.
Luckily, he wasn’t far behind. As he attempts to pull out, about to come, you whine and beg him to stay.
“Want me to come in you, hm? Who knew you were so dirty,” He taunts and you hum in response, simply just feeling him as you ride out your high. “Gonna be the death of me, angel.”
You jerked your hips forward, sensitive and squirmy, as his cock twitches. Before you know it, Harry is coating your walls with his release. Your eyes roll back for the hundredth time tonight, savoring the sensation of his ropes of cum. His heart pounds quickly like a galloping horse, still in denial of everything that just occurred.
Everything felt so surreal, you were positive that Harry had sent you into an oblivion. His strokes become sloppy as he tucks every last drop into your cunt, just like you wanted.
“H…” You don’t even know what to say. You were speechless. Harry literally fucked the words out of you.
“Are you okay?” Was his first question, his first words to you in the aftermath. Your heart swells for some odd reason, even though that is the bare minimum.
“Yes,” Was the only thing you could say in response. In a moment, you came to the realization that the bottom half of your body was naked. Your muscles jittered as you close your legs, covered in wetness.
“Y/N, I…” He wanted to tell you everything. Right now. There was no better moment than right now to tell you everything. Right?
But how does he say it?
You knew Harry was about to say something sentimental or serious. You knew when he was about to say something meaningful that it took him time to find the right words. That was one of the things you found most endearing and adorable about him. His next words were either going to break your heart or make you want to have sex again. Either way, you might cry.
“I feel fuckin’ stupid,” Okay, those were not the meaningful words you expected to come out of his mouth. Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “I feel fuckin’ stupid for you. Do y’know how hard it is to live with someone you feel so strongly about? It’s bloody crazy. You drive me insane, Y/N. I’ve waited so long for this thinking that if I had you once it would be enough. But I like you too much for this to be a one-time thing. I need more than this. I need you.”
Your mouth was wide open, shoulders slouching with your arms hanging. You were positive your arms had fallen asleep with the amount of time they’ve been hanging, but your heart was too full to care. That organ in your chest inflated with the admission he spoke. Those words might not have been as heartwarming or movie-like to other people, but to you, there was a strong, heartfelt passion that was real and true. You were surprised he cracked first. You surely thought it would be you.
“Harry, I–”
“If you don’t feel the same, I understand–”
“Goddamnit, Harry! Take these cuffs off of me so I can kiss you, you doof!”
—
i thought this was only going to be 2k, so you’re welcome <3
tags: @crybabyddl @tiaamberxx @alwaysclassyeagle @bisexual-desi @raajali3
crossed out= not able to tag
#shawnxstyles#harry styles#frat boy harry#fratrry#harry styles smut#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fan fics#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#one direction fan fics#one direction fan fiction#love on tour#harry styles love on tour#harry styles updates#harry styles news#harry styles the album#harry styles fine line#fine line#harries#tpwk#treat people with kindness
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need him so ducking bad
#frat boy harry#harry styles#one direction#duplicity#prince harry#frat boy#louis tomlinson#niall horan#zayn malik#liam payne#so hot 🔥🔥🔥#harry styles hs1#harrys house#1direction#directioners#1d fanfiction#niall 1d#harry 1d#louis 1d#zayn 1d#liam 1d#viralpost#girl blogger#girlhood#tumblr fyp#tumblr girls#2013
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BMWB
Summary: an anon request - “can you do a one shot where y/n is in the band and for some reason Harry and her don't get along and they end up fucking?? Like not enemies to lovers but more or like enemies to fw because they're so good at it ??? Pleaseeeee”
Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, lots of arguing, oral (both), fingering, biting, hair pulling, filth
My original CinemaStyles-blog has been terminated, so I created a new one.
MAJOR ASSHOLE FRAT BOY HARRY
"One, two, three, four." Harry screams into the mic and bobs his head to the music. I strum my base, close my eyes and tilting my head as I feel the music.
My eyes suddenly snap open when Harry starts to yell, "Stop. Stop. Fuckin' stop." I lay my fingers over the edge of my bass and sigh, "What now, Styles?"
I know he's talking about me, he's always talking about me.
He scoffs and shakes his head, "Are you even here with us right now? Because the he only thing you should be focusing on is getting the beat of the fucking song right. Jesus christ."
I roll and shut my eyes and take a deep breathe, "Harry. Chill out man. She was doing fine." Niall says setting down his guitar, "Maybe you need to ta-"
Harry cuts him off, "Maybe you just need to shut the fuck up."
"If you don't want me to pla-"
Zayn cuts me off, "No, y/n. You're the best bass player we've had, Harry's just having a bad day."
Harry shifts his weight to his left leg and puts his hands on his hips, "You know wh- fine. Take a fucking break, all of you."
He walks off the stage and throws his water bottle.
"What the fuck is his issue lately?" Louis says walking up, "Don't take it personal, y/n. Harry can be.." he trails off his words.
I sigh, "Egomaniacal? Asshole-ish? Cocky? I can stand here all day."
They laugh and I look over my shoulder, "I'll try and talk to him. If the screaming at each other stops call the coroner because I've strangled him with his mic cord."
I set my bass down gently and walk in the direction Harry went.
I look left and right and walk down the hall. I stop as I see Harry leaning against the wall. He turns his head towards me and looks away with an eye roll, "What do you want?"
"I want to know why you're all of a sudden coming at me?" I cross my arms, "We were fine and now yo-"
"Just go practice because you obviously need it." He pushes off the wall and walks towards me. I grab his arm as he goes past me, "No. I don't obviously need that, Harry. What I need, is for you to tell me what the fuck your issue is."
He laughs and tilts his head back, "Like I'd ever talk to you about what's bothering me. Go the fuck back to the stage. We have a show to get perfect."
He pulls his arm away and scoffs, "Don't ever fucking touch me again."
"Don't ever fucking yell at me again." I shoot back.
He stop waking and turns around, "Oh? So now you're the boss? Telling me what I can and can't do?" He walks up to me, "Let me tell you one thing, sweetheart." He leans in, his face an inch away from mine, "I'm the boss. You do what I say when I say it, hmm?"
I roll my eyes at him, "Mm. We'll see."
I step around him and walk back to stage. Before I enter back, I look over at him and smile, "You coming? We have a show to make perfect." I smirk and push the door open.
"Is he dead?" Louis asks with a slight laugh.
I shake my head, "Not yet." I pick my bass up and gently strum the strings. Harry walks in and everyone goes quiet.
"Let's get this fucking right." He says just loud enough for us to hear. He walks up and takes the mic off the stand and looks around at us, making sure we're ready.
"One, two, three, four."
——
"You guys are on in five." Liam, the crew manager says. I nod and finish applying my lipstick, "Okay."
"Don't fuck this up." Harry says leaning against the door frame to my dressing room. I look at him in the mirror, "Is that you threatening me or demanding me?"
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, "Sometimes I just wanna-" he clenches his jaw and tilts his head, "Nope. Not happening."
"What?" I turn around and lean against the table, "You wanna what, Styles?"
He stares at me, and in that moment, if looks could kill. I'd be dead.
He walks up to me and brings a hand up, his thumb gently pulls down my lower lip, "Sometimes I just wanna gag you with my cock so you shut the fuck up for once."
He drops his hand, "Like I said, don't fuck this up."
He leaves the room before I have anything to say, which I don't. Harry just left me absolutely speechless.
"Hey, y/n. Let's go. We're up next." Louis knocks on the door, "You okay?"
I blink and turn around quickly, wiping away the smudge of lipstick Harry's thumb left, "Yeah. Coming."
——
The whole show, I was on edge.
On edge because of what Harry said.
On edge because he looks so fucking hot in that tight Green Bay jersey.
On edge because he kept looking over at me any chance he got.
On edge because he was fucking with me.
We finish the song and the crowd goes wild. Screaming for Harry. Screaming for me. Screaming for all of us.
"Give it up for the amazing band behind me." Harry says while clapping, "Niall, Louis, Zayn.." there's a pause before he says my name and the boys glance towards me then look back at Harry, "And y/n who actually did very well tonight."
The crowd screams and I force a smile and wave.
I shook a glare back at Harry and he smirks behind his mic, "We're going to give you guys one last song and then we're off to Phoenix!"
Harry walks around stage as we start to play the final song of the night, "Let's go!"
——
We exit the stage and I immediately walk up to Harry and shove his shoulder, "What the fuck was that?"
He cocks his jaw and smirks, "I know you didn't just shove me."
I go to shove him again and Zayn grabs my arms, "Settle down." I pull my arms and he gets louder, "Settle down, easy y/n."
"Why would you fucking say that?" I yell, "I actually did well tonight? What the fuck Harry!?"
He chuckles and shakes his head. He motions for Zayn to let me go and he puts his arm around my shoulder, "Let's take a walk and talk about this."
I push his arm off of me, "What so you ca-"
"Now, now." He cuts me off, "Just come on." We walk down the hall to the door with his name on it, "In."
I roll my eyes and push the door open. I walk in and turn around, ready to start losing my absolute shit on him but he holds his hand up, "I get under your skin."
"Yeah the fuck you do." I cross my arms, "And you do it on purpose."
He walks over and pours himself a drink, "Because you make it so easy."
"By what? Giving you a reaction?" I huff, "Do you want me to ignore you? Quit the band?"
"Why would you quit the band?" He asks bringing the glass to his lips. He lowers it and shakes his head, "You're the best bass player I've had, y/n. I don't want you to quit."
His words confuse me and I know my face shows it.
"He sits down and rests one arm straight out on the back of the couch and brings a leg up over his other, "Sit."
I find myself always listening to his stupid little commands so I shake my head, "No. I'll stand." He chuckles, "Hmm. Okay. Suit yourself, sweetheart."
I roll my eyes, "What do you want, Harry." I state, "Because if you're just going to sit there and-"
"You. I want you."
"Excuse me?" I laugh, "Did you just say you- you want me?"
He nods, "Yeah. I believe that's what I said."
"You're not serious."
"But I am." He finishes his drink and stands up, "You see, y/n. I really don't like you, for reasons I'm not open to telling you just yet." He sets his glass down and walks over to me.
I stay silent and watch him as he gets closer, "We have our issues that, well, the whole band can see, right?"
I shrug, "I-"
"Shut up." He says louder. His voice goes back to normal and he walks around me, his chest presses against my back and he moves my hair off my neck.
My breathing gets faster and I bite my lip.
"There so much stress while touring, right?" His fingers drag up my shoulder and neck.
I nod.
"I want you to be my little stress reliever." He leans down and licks up my neck, "No strings attached."
I shut my eyes tight. Fighting off every urge to turn around and give into him.
He's an asshole.
He makes your days a living hell.
He gets under your skin in the most annoying ways possible.
All the thoughts run spin around in my head and I let out the breathe I've been holding.
"What do you say? Huh. We help each other out and when you piss me off.. I get to fuck my anger out and fuck that annoying little attitude out of you."
I want to say no so bad. I want to turn around and slap some sense into him, but the idea of being Harry's fuck buddy is just so overpowering.
"You can speak now, sweetheart."
"Y-yes."
"Good answer. Now get on your knees." He places his hands on my shoulder and pushes me down. I land on my knees and bite my lip, looking up at him as he walks around to stand in front of me.
He starts to undo the belt on his jeans and he gives me a smirk.
"What?" I ask as I tuck hair behind my ear.
"Do I make your nervous?" He chuckles, "No need to be nervous."
I roll my eyes, "Please. If anyone should be nervous here, it's you."
"How's that?" He asks shoving his jeans down, "I'm not nervous one bit. Excited actually."
I raise my eye brows and laugh slightly, "Why because you're about to shut me up?"
"Exactly." He pushes his boxers down and pumps his cock in his hand a few times before pushing the head of it against my lips, "Open for me."
I part my lips and he pushes his cock in, letting out a groan.
I wrap my lips around his cock and swirl my tongue. I work my way down, getting him wet enough, teasing him slightly before I give him exactly what he wants.
I sink his cock into my throat and he moans.
I shut my eyes and control my breathing through my nose before I bob my head, gagging around his cock.
"Ah." He moans out, "It's nice to hear the sound of you choking on my cock rather than you speaking."
I ignore his words and continue to fuck my throat with him, working him up until he places a hand on my head, "A-alright. We can come back to this. I wanna see that ass of yours bent over."
I pull off and wipe my chin off with my wrist. He pulls me over towards the couch and slips his shirt off. My eyes flicked up and down his toned, tattooed torso and he grips the hem of my shirt pulling it up over my head.
"You know, y/n." His eyes move up and down my bra covered chest, "You are pretty fuckin' hot."
I smirk and unbutton my jeans, "So are you."
He smirks and watches as I take my jeans off, kicking my shoes out of the way. We both stand there naked and his hands reach out to explore my body.
I close my eyes as he leans in, sucking random spots on my neck. I moan out quietly and bring my hands up to his arms.
Wow, he isn't yelling at me to not touch him.
His hand moves down and pushes between my legs. His finger slides between my folds, "You're fuckin' soaked, sweetheart."
I part my thighs and dig my nails into his skin as he circles my clit, gradually applying a harder pressure.
I whimper and tilt my head back. Harry kisses and sucks spots under my chin and jaw line.
"Harry." I moan out quietly, "Fuck me."
He chuckles against my skin, "Are you demanding?"
I bite my lip, debating on what I should say before my mouth speaks on its own, "What if I am?"
He sighs and pulls his hand away from between my legs, "Then you get more time without my cock in that desperate cock hungry pussy of yours."
He walks over and gets another drink, "I'm going to enjoy this drink. Sit down and, oh I don't know." He shrugs, "Convince me that you're deserving of my cock going into your pussy."
I chew the inside of my lip and nod, "Okay."
I sit down on the couch and smirk as I bring my legs up and spread them. He pauses and stares at my open legs. I bring my hand down and rub circles onto my clit, moaning.
I need Harry to touch me.
"Afraid you won't get me to cum?" I tease, "Am I going to have to fake it with you then do it myself later?"
He roughly sets his glass down on the table and stands up, "There you go again.. running your mouth."
I bite my lip and sink my fingers into my pussy, letting out a loud gasp, "What? Im just asking questions."
He scoffs, "You have no idea."
"Mm. I think I do." I tilt my head back and moan. A smile grows on my lips as I feel the couch sink down.
"You'll be begging me to fuck you after this." He moves my hand and replaces it with his own, his rings roughly hitting my skin as his fingers pump in and out.
I arch my back off the couch and moan, "Fuck."
He shifts back and bends down, attaching his lips to my clit. I let out a gasp and put a hand on his head, grabbing a fistful of his hair.
He moans against me and that causes me to moan. I clench my walls around his fingers as I feel myself approaching my orgasm.
My eyes roll back and I smile as he did exactly what I wanted him to do.
He pulls his fingers out and licks up my pussy. He pulls away and moves up, rubbing the head of his cock against my clit, "That didn't seem fake to me."
I smirk and my mouth opens as he shoves his cock into me without warning, "Fuck." He smirks and tilts his head as he pulls out and thrusts back in.
He grips my hips tight and fucks me. His lips part as his eyes shit and a moan escapes his lips, "Shit, y/n."
I grab his wrists and arch my back, "Harry." I whimper, "Fuck."
He leans down, pressing his lips to mine as he continues thrusting. I drag my nails up his back with one hand as I pull myself to desperately cling to him with the other.
He gently bites my bottom lip and moans.
I tilt my head back and he kisses up and down it.
For a moment I would have thought I wasn't having sex with the asshole I shoved in the hallway, but with Harry who actual gives a shit.
He moans against my neck and pushes his cock deep into me, "This pussy is mine." He whispers in a deep, raspy voice.
"Yours." I breathe out, "Yours."
He goes back to thrusting and attacking my neck. I wrap an arm around his neck and sink my nails into his shoulder as I cum around his cock.
"Fuck." He groans lowly, "You feel so fucking good."
I whimper in his ear, "You fuck so good."
He smirks and kisses my cheek and over to my lips. Our lips move in perfect sink and he pulls out and I can feel his cum shoot out into my stomach.
He continues to kiss me, his hand pulls my hips closer to his. He slowly leans back and looks at me, "Who's pussy is this?"
I roll my eyes and smirk, "Yours."
"Damn right it is." He leans up and looks around, "Um.." he gets up and grabs a towel, "Here." He tosses the towel down next to me as he cleans himself off.
"Thanks." I wipe myself off and sit up, I lean over and grab my clothes, slipping my panties and jeans back on, "So what does this mean?" I smirk and laugh.
He shakes his head and smirks, "Nothing more than band mates with benefits."
——
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Bad Idea, Right?
Obviously inspired by Miss Olivia Rodrigo’s song, here is a one shot I loved writing :) a bit of angst, a bit of a fluff, a lot of smut, a little bit of everything!
Check out our Patreon for early access and 160+ exclusive writings!
WC- 6.2k
Warnings- toxic relationship, kinda asshole h, angst, crying, slight degradation, spitting, impact play (light), sex tape filming, daddy kink (light), use of Mama 🤭
—-
Y/N knew this was a very bad idea. She knew she was going to regret this in the morning, as she usually did when Harry texted her to show up somewhere, but here she was.
Her best black dress in the most soft fabric, the one he had complimented her on endlessly before peeling it off when they had still been together, was glued to her body, Hair curled and falling down her shoulders. If she was going to show up at a houseparty that her ex boyfriend was throwing, she may as well go all out and wear something that she knew he liked.
Internally, she tried to talk herself out of it as she approached the open door, ignoring the people making out on his lawn. The thump of the bass was audible outside, a deep sigh being let out as she tossed her phone in her clutch after texting him a simple ‘here.’ The shot she had taken before had done next to nothing to calm her nerves, her red lipstick meticulously touched up in the back of the uber as she squirmed in the seat surely getting fucked up as she bit down on her bottom lip, venturing into the home that used to be so familiar to her.
It had been 5 months since they’d broken up, but it had barely seemed like it. Harry had a way of getting into her head and driving her absolutely fucking mad. Their back and forth seemed neverending, their text threads updating every few days. A fight, a makeup, a request to see one another. As much as she wanted to claim it was all him, she knew she was equally as bad. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to find someone else- but no one else could get her off like him.
Harry knew her body better than anyone else, every curve and mark, where to touch and stroke. Where to stroke, where to lick, where to bite. He was an expert on how to get her off in just minutes, her cunt completely dedicated to him as much as she wished it wasn’t. Her brain and pussy had no communication in the information regarding the fact they were broken up, much to her dismay. The only thing saving her ego was that she knew that she had the same effect on Harry. There was no way she didn’t. Harry could very well fuck anyone he wanted to, more than capable to pull. Y/N had been overly jealous as a girlfriend and she knew that, but people were drawn to her boyfriend despite the fact it was well known he was taken. While he didn’t seem to take them up on it- he ate up the attention and preened over it, much to her irritation. It caused fights upon fights, her going out of her way to make him jealous- which worked. They both seemed to get off on pissing each other off.
Breaking up was supposed to stop the cycle, but it seemed to only string it out further.
There had been so many times she deleted his number but when he pulled up on her notifications again, she recognized the number and his attitude and couldn’t resist temptation. No one had ever made Y/N feel so many emotions in her life. Being around Harry was like a live wire, electric and hot, dangerous and potentially harmful, but the benefits sometimes outweighed the risks.
Her nose crinkled as she felt the floor stick under her shoe, knowing he would be pissed about that tomorrow. Whatever spiked punch was all over the floor and that would take some elbow grease to get out. Navigating through the entryway, she made her way into the living room. It was dark, flimsy lighting had been put up to make colorful strobes go around the room, the room far too filled for comfort. It was stupidly warm, regret crawling up her neck as she looked around to find anyone familiar.
“There she is!” The voice was unmistakable. Niall, arms tugging her in for a hug and pulling her into the kitchen where it was a bit quieter, the main group she was familiar with strung about along with a few strangers. “Harry’s girl is here, everyone! Y/N herself.” He chirped, making her give him a confused look until she followed his gaze to see Harry standing stiffly, a girl too close for comfort. Her eyes narrowed, taking in how the girl angled her body, hand resting on Harry’s arm, looking at her with a scowl.
It was an ugly feeling to see someone else around her man. Well- he wasn’t her man, but it was another miscommunication between her heart and brain. She hated seeing him around someone else, the mere idea of him being with someone that wasn’t her made her stomach turn. It wasn’t right. Yes, she knew it was a toxic cycle but it was one she didn’t know how to break. She knew this was bad, but she didn’t want anyone else having him the way she did.
The only saving grace was the fact that Harry looked uncomfortable, immediately peeling himself away from the other girl and coming straight over to Y/N.. Her face must have shown her irritation, mouth opening and arm resting on her hip as she went to give him a bit of hell but was cut off by his mouth.
And Y/N’s body, she was a fucking traitor. Feeling his arms wrap around her and push her against the counter, his tongue pressing into her mouth and tasting the cinnamon from the alcohol and sticky remnants of Coca Cola on his lips made her brain go numb. She always did love how strong he was, how safe she used to feel wrapped up in his arms. There were a few wolf whistles surrounding them, but Y/N had been taken aback from the heat of it so early on, hand slipping between her and the counter to grab at her ass. A surprised moan left her mouth before Niall let out a laugh.
“Alright, alright. Stop eating her, Harry.” Niall smacked his back, making Harry pull back with a hazy smirk. Almost dopy, making her blink up at him with her eyes narrowing again. His eyes were dark, lips wet now and that dark pink she liked so, so much. He hadn’t shaved today, leaving a bit of stubble around his face, a backwards hat combing his hair back to keep it out of his face. The nose piercing was swapped from a stud to a hoop, making her a bit surprised. Had he done that for her? He knew she liked it….
“You can take your hand off my ass now.” Her sassy tone didn’t match how her eyes looked, secretly loving that he had so publicly claimed her in front of a girl they both knew wanted him. It was a sick feeling, the victory even though she knew it was wrong to feel that way. It was a constant fight with herself. Knowing she should most definitely not be feeling so happy that her ex had just kissed her dumb in front of all his friends, but still liking that she had a claim on him.
“I could.” He retorted. “But it feels so nice in my palm, and we both know how much you like it.” A squeeze was given, Y/N scowling back up at him but not making any attempt to move. If she wanted to, he would get out of the way- but they both knew how this went. She pretended she didn’t liked his hands on her, he taunted her, they would glare and play fight before it got a little real, and they’d fuck. A circle they’d swung around plenty of times. His lips lowered to her ear, ignoring the chatter around them. “You’re wearing my dress, hm?”
“Yours? M’sorry, did you want to wear it?” She rose her eyebrow that she definitely hadn’t laid to perfection before she came here. “I forgot you even liked this one. It was the first thing I could reach in my closet.” Her nose was turned up, this time pushing past him to go over to the drinks. She looked down to see a cup with his name scribbled on it with a sharpie, lifting it up for confirmation before throwing it back.
Regretted immediately.
“Ugh- Harry, what the fuck?” She gagged, nose wrinkled as she opened his fridge to grab a bottle of water. “I forgot how disgusting your drinks are. God, how do you even have a stomach?” She gave him a horrified look, swishing the water in her mouth.’
“No one told you to fuckin’ take mine!” He grumbled, taking the cup to find it empty. “Fucks sake, Y/N. Taking my drink and then bitching about it. As usual.” He came up behind her to grab the bottle over the fridge, his ‘good stuff’ or whatever. It was already that time of night?
Where they started poking at each other to cause a fight. To have an excuse to wander off and to strip down to nothing.
“Excuse me?” Y/N grit her teeth, turning to look at him as he poured into his recently emptied cup. He was trying to get a rise out of her.
“You heard me, princess. Know those ears work, considering you’re an eavesdropper.”
Oh, he was going low. She crinkled the water bottle in her hands, shoulders tending as she exhaled sharply through her nose. “Well I wouldn’t have had to if you didn’t get so fucking weird with your phone. You were the one hiding a ‘project partner’ from me.” Her fingers did air quotes around that, showing that she didn’t believe his excuse.
“Oh, for fucks sake.” Harry hissed, his own jaw setting. “I told you that she was just a partner for my paper. I didn’t tell you at first because I know you’d overreact and go all insane on me for daring to interact with another woman.” He snarled back, knowing where to hit where it hurt.
“I wouldn’t have had to be paranoid if you’d respected me to stop flirting and entertaining girls who disrespected our relationship by hitting on you in front of me! You literally encouraged it!” She was trying to keep her voice down, but it was hard. This was an especially sore spot.
“So replying with a thank you is encouraging it? Sue me for liking that someone complimented me on something!” He raised an arm up, running fingers through his hair in frustration before he turned away to lean on the counter with his arms crossed, cup in hand. “God, you do this every fucking time. We aren’t fucking together anymore, that’s your fault. Why do you continue to harrass me about this? Even if I did encourage it, I never went for it did I?” A cruel smirk emerged. “Though I’m a free agent now, yeah? Could go take Josslyn or Heather up on their offers?
Harry knew he had taken it a bit too far when her breathing caught for real, watching as he froze and her bottom lip trembled. That wasn’t a part of their regular script to wind each other up before hot sex. It was a bit of the real hurt that has blossomed through, but he hadn’t meant to let it out. Her eyes turned glassy, her hand snatching his drink and throwing it at his shirt.
“Fuck you.”
Harry felt the cold liquid hit him, hissing as he stood in slight shock as he watched her turn to leave. He had really fucked up. His stomach dropped as he tried to gather his bearings, cursing under his breath before going after her.
“Y/N! Fuck, don’t go.” He yelled after her, making his way through the throngs of people in his living room, eyes watching her back go towards the door. While he had definitely said fucked up things before, this had been designed to hit where it really hurt.
Y/N stomped through the living room, ignoring his calls for her as she got closer to the door- closer to escape- when she was caught. Arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her into the bathroom next to the stairs and turning so he was against the door. Y/N kept her back towards him but yanked herself free from his grip, irritated that she was crying. That it still hurts. He knew it would and that’s partially what made it worse. He had been out to hurt her and she had known it was a bad idea to show up tonight but somewhere in her heart she had this tiny, tiny hidden hope that maybe tonight would be a night they could finally get over their differences. She missed him so much it ached if she allowed herself to feel it, but she had tried to refuse her feelings.
It had boiled over now, though.
Harry swallowed thickly as he heard the sniffle. Y/N wasn’t one to cry about a lot. She hadn’t shed a lot of tears in the time they’d been together, emotionally iron clad as it seemed. When she did? It was unnerving. Heartbreaking. It was one of his least favorite things ever, seeing her crumble. While he may have enjoyed getting her angry and irritated, maybe a little jealous, he never liked hurting her. He gained no pleasure from that.
“Baby…” He spoke softly, trying to turn her around, hands pulling at her shoulders. He was bigger than her and could definitely turn her around if he wanted to, but he wouldn’t ever touch her in a way she didn’t want.
“No. You can’t- you can’t call me that anymore. I am not your baby.” She hissed, keeping herself turned from him. Harry winced. She hadn’t said that before, not seriously, but the venom in her voice had shown how upset she was. It was laced with the hoarse blanket that coated her voice when she cried, making it even worse. “You can go call Josslyn or Heather. I’m sure they’d love to be your b-baby.” The end of the sentence was joined with a little sob, effectively breaking his heart further.
“No. No, I’m not… I didn’t mean it, Y/N. I promise. I was just upset and I didn’t mean for it to come out, I just wanted you to feel-”
“What?” Whipping around, Y/N’s mascara streaked cheeks were a blow to the chest. Her vulnerability was something he used to crave, to be the one she confided in or let herself break with. He wanted to be there for her. Not be the cause of her tears. “You wanted me to feel hurt, like you did? Do you not think I don’t hurt every fucking day?”
“You broke up with me!” Harry tried, her glare making him stop talking quickly after.
“I broke up with you because you didn’t take me seriously. How could you go from telling me you can’t wait to put a ring on my finger, can’t wait to have a family with me, to flirting with girls the same night? Do you know how humiliating it is to have your friends tell you that they heard so and so say they were going to try something because it ‘obviously isn’t serious with Y/N?” The incredulous look on her face made him shrink back a bit.
“I didn’t know that! It was never real flirting, Y/N. I liked to get my ego stroked, the attention felt nice, but I would never, ever step out on you. I love you, for fucks sake!” He went to reach for her but she backed up, flinching slightly. Another dagger to the chest. He had really, really fucked up. She never denied his touch.
“You love me?” A humorless laugh escaped her swollen lips. “Is that how you love people, Harry? Make them feel disposable and humiliated because you can’t be happy with one girl telling you that she loves you back? My compliments weren’t enough?” Arms crossed defensively over her chest. “Give me a fucking break. Telling me that as if you didn’t just say moments ago that you should take up girls who actively disrespected our relationship on their offers to fuck you while you were dating me? Yeah, that’s definitely something someone who loved me would do.” She wanted to stay angry but she was hurt. Hurt so bad, the full weight of their breakup actually hitting her as she felt the sob crawl up her throat and hurried to cover her eyes as she began to cry. It couldn’t be held back. She was at her breaking point.
Harry wanted to throw up. He hadn’t thought of it that way, and honestly? He had never expected this. Sometimes Y/N had acted as if she didn’t have a lot of emotion, reserved and a bit quiet when she expressed herself. The one time he had gotten her to let go was during sex, where he truly felt her desire. That was maybe why he liked the attention from other people. She wasn’t very forthcoming with praise or overly lovey with him, and it had hurt a little. But he could deal with that later, because his poor fucking girl was sobbing in front of him.
“No, no… sweet girl. Please.” He watched as she dropped down to sit on the floor, gathering her knees to her chest as he followed after her. “Hey- M’so sorry. I didn’t think about it like that. I really didn’t. I was just talking out of my ass because I was hurt we’re still broken up a-and I shouldn’t have said anything but….” He sat down fully next to her, pulling her body on to his lap. She tried to squirm at first but he could tell it was half hearted as she settled down a moment later, the sobs wracking her body as his arms wrapped around her and his lips went to her ear.
“M’so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t ever want to make you feel that way. You’ve always been so important to me and this is breaking my heart.” He whispered. “Hate that you’re crying because of me. I hate that I ever made you doubt that you were important to me, or that I respect you. I do. I promise you, I do.” He whimpered slightly, desperate to get her to believe him. “I’m an ass, I know. But you have to know I do, I love you so much. I’m so fucking sorry for throwing that in your face.”
In the grand scheme of things, he knew that some people would think she was overreacting- but he understood now. He hadn’t truly meant to take it that far, hadn’t even stopped to think that those exact women had been sources of insecurity. They were the first to pop into his head because he had rejected them again tonight, waiting for Y/N to arrive.
He never wanted to be broken up with. He had planned on being with her forever, and he had fucked it up.
Her cries started to fade, sniffles taking the place of sobs as he whispered soft words, consoling her. He knew he’d fucked up tonight, in their relationship. He hadn’t communicated the way he needed to and he played games, but he thought that it would get a different reaction. His intentions weren’t to hurt her. Selfishly, stupidly, he assumed it hadn’t phased her. That she was just angry and not upset.
If she’d give him another chance he’d fix it. He’d make sure to open her up a little more, make her feel more safe. Reign in his flirting, make sure he was just polite instead. He’d never put their relationship in jeopardy again. “C’mon. Come with me, to my room.” Standing up, he pulled her along with her. It said a lot about her right now that she wasn’t fighting, letting him lead her to his room with her hand tucked in his own. Her face was downcast, making sure no one could see that she’d cried as Harry took the key from his pocket and undid the lock. He really didn’t want strangers in his room.
It was still the same. His navy bedspread and Nirvana posters on the side of his wall, his desk slightly messy with a leftover fast food cup sitting next to his water bottle on his night stand. He’s gotten it for her, because she got thirsty in the middle of the night.
What really got her attention was the framed photo of them that was right next to it. Her soft smile and his wide one, teeth out as he held her in his lap. His flannel was around her and his hat was backwards as he snuggled her. It had been cool that night but there was a bonfire, not enough seats and a handsy Harry ready to make his lap her throne. Her throat tightened as she looked at the photo, dropping his hand and wrapping her arms around her body to self soothe before she walked up to it.
“Why do you still have this up?” Her voice was shaky still, looking down at the happy memory.
“Because I still love you. I told you.” Hands were placed on her hips as she was brought into him, hugging her from behind as he unwrapped her arms and threaded their fingers together. “I know I’ve been shit. I’ve been… impatient, an attention whore, all of the insults you’ve said. But I love you. I have since day one. I’d have never cheated on you, regardless of what you may believe.” The idea of it made him feel ill.
“Then why?” Her wavering voice made him frown. “Why did you keep flirting with people in my face? I know you said it was cause I wasn’t giving you enough compliments but I didn’t know you thought that.” His heart nearly snapped in two when her voice broke. “I thought the world of you. I was so proud to be with you and then… I thought you just didn’t like me anymore. I know…” A deep inhale was felt as her tummy lifted both of their arms. “I know I can be a little cold or quiet, but I had no idea you felt neglected. I pulled back because you kept talking to other girls how you used to talk to me and… I didn’t feel like it was okay to.”
It made him feel worse. Hearing this now. Y/N had broken up with him and he’d been hurt, his pride making him sneer at her and the nastiness was even more uncalled for now that he knew. Y/N wasn’t a bitch, she wasn’t unfeeling- she didn’t feel safe. He’d done that to her because he was the little bitch here, not giving her the safety she needed in order to open up. While they should’ve been continuing growing, he got his feelings hurt and made it impossible for her to feel like she could give those things to him.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was weak. “I’m sorry. I’ll keep saying it. I didn’t mean it. I promise, nothing I've said is true. I wanted to wind you up, I wanted to fuck you because it was the only way you’d get close to me again. I never intended on making you feel unsafe with me, fuck. That’s the last thing I ever wanted. Makes me feel sick to hear that.” He nuzzled against her neck, placing a kiss there before pulling away, unwrapping them and sitting on the edge of his bed. Y/N wasn’t fighting him, so he gently tugged her to sit on his lap, this time facing him. “There she is.” A sad smile lifted his lips, thumb wiping away the streaks of mascara that had flaked off with her tears. “Still so pretty when you cry, even if it breaks m’heart.”
It was worse than a kicked puppy. Y/N wasn’t a huge emoter so knowing that he’d done this had made him wonder what she did alone. How many other times he’d made her cry but she wasn’t solid enough around him to do it in front of him.
“You broke mine.” She whispered, looking down at his shirt. “I don’t mean to be a bitch. I was just scared.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Let me fix it. Please?” Holding her face in his hands, he got her eyes back on his. “Let me make it better. I won’t do any of that ever again, I’ll communicate better… Just let me make your heart feel safe again.”
Y/N knew she was a sucker for this. She shouldn’t say yes. Every part of her except her brain was screaming to stay, though. While her head was telling her to run away as fast as she could, her heart thudded in her chest and her body wanted closer to his own. It was a decision she may come to regret, maybe she’d hate herself for it, but she couldn’t let go. “O-Okay.” She whispered, feeling his head fall against hers. “Please don’t break my heart again, H. I can’t do that again.”
“I’d rather die.”
His lips were pressed against hers, and moved quickly from there.
One of the things that never lacked with them as a couple was sexual chemsitry. It’s what had them so obsessed with each other at first. The best way to get Y/N to express herself was when she was full of cock or close to the edge of orgasm, which was why Harry had no problem saying his apologies between her legs.
“M’sorry, baby.” He crooned, licking over her drippy slit. “So, so sorry. M’gonna take care of you.” Lips pressed kisses to her clit, a keening whine leaving her lips as fingers clutched his hair and brought him closer to her. His mouth had always been his greatest gift and biggest curse. Somehow he knew all the right things to say, all the right things to do to pleasure her but always stuck his goddamn foot in his mouth. He was going to change that now.
Dark green gazed into hers as he took another broad lick, the tip of his nose brushing over her clit. Large hands with chipped polish wrapped around her thighs and kept them spread, his hair a mess from her hands carding through it with their hot makeout and now his time spent working on her pussy. This was undoubtable a perk of being with the man, knowing how much he genuinely loved to eat pussy. He’d spend hours licking and sucking on her, making her sensitive and cum over and over again whenever he had the chance. For his birthday he’d genuinely wanted a day inside with her where he spent the majority of his morning eating her for breakfast, her thighs his perfect earmuffs from the snow that happened to fall on the day.
Whenever they spent time apart he missed this desperately. He’d not even tried to find someone to replace this because he knew the feeling wouldn’t ever be the same. Sure, he’d loved eating pussy before Y/N but it had turned into a full on obsession with her. No one had ever tasted as good, made as many cute noises, squealed when his mouth latched on her clit and his finger curled just right- like he was doing now, holding her bucking hips down.
“Oh, I know, Mama, I know.” He cooed against her. “Feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? Needed my mouth on this greedy fucking pussy…” Pursing his lips, he spit over her slit and watched it drip with a hiss before usng his tongue to spread it, digits dripping down to his wrist before his tongue trilled over the swollen bud. It didn’t take much to push her over, but a well timed smack against her thigh to get her to stop squirming had done the job. A wet gasp tore from her mouth as she squeale his name, simultaneously pulling his mouth against her and trying to push him away. Using his strength against her, he made sure to lick up a bit before spitting again, leaving her pussy wet and messy as he climbed up her body and kissed her hard.
His chin was wet and she knew he was a fucking mess but her tongue delved into his mouth, tasting herself on him. She could hear the tug down of his zipper, felt him moving and wiggling his pants down but she was too busy sucking on his tongue and reveling in his moans against her to think twice before she felt the tip of his cock smack against her cunt.
“I’m clean, baby. No one but you, never need anyone but you.” His grip on her chin was tight as he rutted himself against her cunt. “Even when you were being a miserable bitch t’me, all I wanted to do was love on you. M’gonna make sure you never fucking doubt how much you own me again. This is the only cunt I need.”
There was sick satisfaction that rolled through him as he slid into her and felt the stretch, watching her mouth fall open as she was filled. It only confirmed what he had hoped- she hadn’t been fucking around much, if at all. Granted, he was thick and long and it would be hard to beat him, but he knew what she felt like when she was well fucked. “Oh, look at that…” He whispered, angling her head down to look at where her pussy lips clung to his cock as he pulled out a bit. “She missed me, didn’t she, baby? Sweet pussy missed my cock so fucking much, doesn’t want me to pull away.”
Harry was by far the filthiest man she’d ever experienced but that’s part of the appeal. He may be a bit of an asshole, but god, he knew how to fuck. How to kiss. How to make her feel special when he wasn’t being a dickhead. Moments like this always wiped that shit clean, the slate cleared and her head foggy as all she could focus on was how right he was. “Yeah- yeah, don’t take it from me again.” She growled, digging her nails into his skin. “Don’t fucking take my cock from me again, don’t make me walk away. This is mine.”
Harry hissed, loving the sting on his skin and how she spoke. Y/N could be a fierce little bitch and he loved that about her. She hadn’t been pleased tonight and he’d taken it too far, but she was going to have no doubt how much he had been missing her. Their hate sex had been good, but their makeup sex was even better. “Never, Mama. Never, it’s all yours. You’re right.” His voice soothed, pushing back into her and reveling in how hot she was. Tight. Everything he could possibly need. “It’s yours always, and I don’t want anyone else. Jus’ want you to let me love on you, make you feel good. Be my girl again. He had everything else he wanted, but Y/N was the missing link. He’d fucked up with her, but he wouldn’t do it again. Not when this was how explosive it was between them.
“You better fucking treat me right.” Her hand held his face now. “Better be so nice to me, buy me f-flowers and hold my hand… Fuck me good, make sure all the other b-bitches know that you’re taken.” Her legs wound around him and he felt a heel surely to bruise his ass, but he didn’t care. “Don’t let them think you’re available because you’re an attention whore.”
Harry moaned at the degrading words, because they were true. He was indeed an attention whore and he’d never deny it. “Only for you, baby. Want all your fucking attention… fuck.” He hissed, thrusting slower as he looked at where they joined. “Creaming on my cock already, really must have missed me.” Noses brushed before he fucked harder into her, trying to bring her to the edge. “Fingers didn’t cut it, did they? No toy can make you feel as good as his. Know that you needed Daddy t’fuck you right.”
Y/N let out a wail as he tugged her hips up, his face leaving hers to sit on his knees while he fucked her. He was getting the spot she needed, saying the words she wanted and she felt hot all over. Syrupy, sticky hot as she dripped down her ass as the sound of their sex filled his room. The music muffled behind the door didn’t matter, all she wanted to hear was his dirty talk and the sound of their skin. “Yes, I needed it Daddy- Fuck me, fuck me right. You always make me cum over and over…” her head rolled back on the mattress as her fingers found his wrists, grounding herself as he fucked her steady and hard.
His eyes took in the view of bouncing tits and a messy cock pistoning in and out of her creamy cunt, breathing heavy while he felt her tighten up on him. His goal was always to make sure she came over and over, a generous lover being one of his positive attributes. “Mhm… It’s never changed, Mama. M’gonna give it to you just like that. God, you look so fucking pretty on my dick, baby. Need to capture it.” He adjusted slightly as he took his phone out, thankful his pants had only been down a few inches as he pressed record. A breathy laugh left him as he fucked into her willing body, aiming the camera down at her face. “Say hi to the camera, pretty girl.” He crooned.
“H-Hi Daddy.” She mewled, preening under the attention. It was a guilty pleasure of hers, knowing he had the filthy images and videos on his phone. It was even better to watch it back and see just how wrecked she got from him. “You’re gonna be nice to me so you- so you don’t have to delete these, right?” He’d had to delete all the videos when they broke up, but she hoped this time they’d get to stick around forever.
“Of course, my sweet girl. Never gonna fuck this up again… Not when we look so fucking good together. Feel so fucking good together…. Fuck, look at that…” He got a close up of her cunt as it stretched to fit him, clinging to his length. “You’re gonna cum, I can feel it.” His eyes met hers as he started to get her to the edge, her face glistening and eyes hazy. “Go on, baby. Do it. Cum on my cock, make a fucking mess.”
Harry could feel it as she did, the high pitched whine of his name and the bite of her nails as she writhed on his cock, the camera capturing her face as she did so. Mouth open and eyes rolled back, the blissed out smile following as he fucked her through it. He didn’t stop, tossing the phone to the side as he kissed her again as his cock pulsed, trying to hold back his own orgasm. “Mmm… fuck. I love when you cum on me. So gorgeous, all mine.” He rubbed their noses together again while humping into her, her impossibly hot cunt clinging to him as he peppered kisses to her face. “But I’m not done with you yet.”
“No?” She grinned, feeling drunk. “Should have known, you sex maniac- fuck.” She pushed his hand away from her cunt. “Give a girl a minute, fucks sake.”
“Just got you back, can you blame me?” He smiled against her mouth, sucking her lower lip into his mouth and grazing it with his teeth. He wanted her to look freshly fucked and glowing tomorrow when she had to meet up with her friends for brunch, sure to piss them off with the news that they’re back together. “Mean it, I’m not letting you go this time. Never again.” His smirk got bigger. “Pussy’s too fucking good.”
“Shut up, slut.” She pushed his face away playfully. You’ve got more than one orgasm to go until I think about taking you back. Prove your worth to me.” His cock could be felt twitching inside her yet again.
“Whatever you say, Mama.” He cooed, pulling out of her regretfully. “Now, get on your knees. I’ve got to say sorry to your pretty ass.”
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