#last time it felt like she was trying to therapy me n i just wanted to be like ok i have someone else for that already thx | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

harstyle · 7 months ago

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the styles' nanny: part two

Summary: Harry finally realizes his mistake, but is it too late? Featuring a strange encounter with Jamie’s mother, another sad drinking session and an unfiltered conversation that changes everything.

Pairing: plussize-nanny!y/n + older-singledad!harry

Word-count: 10.2k

Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, mentions of sex

here’s part one!

A/N: guys!!! It’s been three months!!! I hope you haven’t completely lost interest in this story :( I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting for so long, I just didn’t expect so many things to come up (plus somewhere along the way I lost motivation). I also hope you enjoy this second and (at least for now) last part. No smut, but maybe in a blurb/oneshot of some kind? Anyway thanks for waiting and happy reading!

—

I’m resigning. I will stay until we find a replacement but not longer than necessary. I thank you for your generosity during my time working for you, but I’m ready for a fresh start as I think it’s what would be best for me right now.

I’ll see you soon,

Y/N

That was the text Harry had received at 11am, just one hour ago. He’d called profusely, probably ten times in total, and had sent out a pathetic amount of text messages that had all gone ignored and unanswered.

Harry had lashed out— he could see that now; he’d been horribly unfair and he had taken advantage of Y/N’s inability to express herself in situations of distress. Harry’s worst trait was his short-temperedness and while he had gone through years of therapy to work on it, sometimes it took ahold of him in ways he couldn’t realize until after the fact.

Of course the last thing he’d wanted was for her to resign, which was exactly why her message had twisted his stomach a bit more intensely than he would’ve liked; he had no idea how to rectify this situation. Most things in his life went as he wished and if they didn’t, he found it was easy to make it so they did. But not now— no, he had to think about this carefully.

It had turned one when his phone rang; he was typing away in his office, trying to distract himself. Her caller ID flashed on his screen, but it wasn’t her voice that caught his ears— it was a man’s. A man’s whose name was Andrew.

“I’m from the viper,” he said, and Harry could swear he started seeing red, “your friend Y/N got a little too drunk for me to feel comfortable sending her away on her own. Is there any way you could come pick her up?”

Harry couldn’t help the string of curses which left his mouth as he gathered his house key. “Is she okay?” He asked, only to receive a conflicted hum.

“She had too many martinis and she was crying earlier. She said something about a fight.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, man. Will you keep an eye out until I get there?”

“Of course.”

As Harry got into his car, he felt the overwhelming urge to chastise her, to keep talking until she finally listened to him when it came to her own safety. Not even one day had passed since he’d had to pick her up the last time— no lesson learned, no regrets.

But then, as he neared the bar, the rational part of his brain advised him against it. Y/N was no child, she was aware of her actions and she knew what was best for her— so for Harry to act high and mighty would be wrong and uncalled for.

He needed to just be there for her. Drop the barrier and be there.

He was ready to offer that to her.

—

Y/N could swear her eyes were playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be unrealistic, really, her vision had become blurry about an hour ago— but, well, she would probably recognize that silhouette anywhere. He wore jeans and a shirt and his hair was still styled for work; Andrew was pointing at her, and so his green eyes followed. When he spotted her, Y/N felt naked under his gaze.

And before she knew it, he was walking toward her.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded, lower lip jutted out in a pout. Y/N had gone drinking in the hopes of distracting herself— and yes, maybe it wasn’t exactly working, but it definitely wouldn’t start working if he was physically here.

“Andrew called me. Stand up, I’m taking you home.”

Andrew was somebody she‘d met a few hours ago. Originally he‘d flirted with her, asking questions about her as she sat at the bar willing to answer all of them soberly— but once eleven had struck, all she could talk about was Harry. Y/N wasn’t fond of airing out dirty laundry so she‘d left the gory details of their fight out, but Andrew knew of a fight.

She was starting to regret it now that Harry was here.

Instead of doing as he’d asked— or ordered, more like, she leaned into the booth further.

“No.”

His eyebrow raised, “no?”

“I don’t leave or go out with dickheads. You taught me that.”

He looked ticked off and it satisfied something within her that had been needing it all night. When he breathed a sigh, eyes closing momentarily, she knew she had him.

“Y/N, would you please humor me and let me take you home? We can keep talking in the car, but not in front of these people.”

“What if I don’t want to go home, huh? Why are you always telling me what to do like you have the right? You’re not my dad.” Her words were slurred and her expression loose. Then she laughed to herself, giggled actually, ridiculously loud. “That’s funny, of course you’re not my dad cause he’s dead! Dead, six feet underground, you know? Probably lower, cause he definitely didn’t go to heaven! He’s, like, really deep underground.”

Concern warped his features.

“Y/N,” he warned, “please.”

She’d turned heads.

“But you know what you and my dad have in common? Yelling. Just yelling, for no fucking reason— yell yell yell, make it feel like my fault even though it isn’t. Right? That’s what my dad used to do to my mom, you know that? That’s why he’s in hell.”

She was pointing an accusatory finger at him, slurring even more than before.

“And you know what I said to her when she left him? That I would never let a man treat me that way. Never! Promised, hand on my heart and everything, I promised. But you’re different, aren’t you? Cause I like you, cause you’re not like my dad.” Her face fell again into the surfaces of her palms, “you’re not like my dad, but you reminded me of him. And I feel— feel like I’m betraying my mom.” Y/N hiccuped quietly, stumbling over a few words.

The gravity of her words were not lost on him— in fact, he’d never felt as guilty in his life.

“Hey,” he beckoned her to look at him, placing his tentative hand atop her arm, “we’ll talk about it. About everything. But not now. Not here.”

“You’re so confusing, you know that? One second you’re really nice to me and then— and then you aren’t.”

“Sweetheart,” he grasped her face as a last attempt to catch her undivided attention. Harry thumbed at her cheek and stared dutifully into her clouded eyes, “let me take care of you tonight. I’ll make it better.”

In all fairness, she’d lost the fight the second his eyes had met hers. There was something about them, maybe their deep shade of green or how effortlessly she could read them, that could probably persuade her into doing anything.

“Fine,” she mumbled after a minute, letting Harry wrap an arm around her waist as they walked. On their way out Y/N said goodbye to Andrew and stayed quiet otherwise, choosing to give Harry the silent treatment. Harry knew he couldn’t expect her to speak to him, so he didn’t force it.

As they drove, Harry couldn’t help glancing over every once in a while to study her expressions. There was barely a moment she wasn’t staring out the window watching cars drive by; even when his hand instinctively landed on her thigh she didn’t react, only moving it away slightly from his touch.

“Are you driving me to my apartment?”

And although both of them knew he’d really been directed toward his house, Harry still pretended to have chosen to take another route. “Course,” he muttered hoarsely, trying to mask his embarrassment with a quiet cough. Y/N sighed, her eyes pressing shut for a moment as she tried to let the guilt roll off of her back. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.

“Where’s Jamie?”

He clicked his tongue. “Still at my mother’s.”

“Oh.”

The stubborn thing she was, Y/N refused Harry’s help getting out of the car. Instead she opened the door by herself, almost tripped when she jumped down from her seat and kept a distance anyway. Harry still watched, though, ready to help if needed.

Y/N unlocked the door (failing to find the keyhole several times) and kept it wide open for Harry to follow behind. The first thing she did was toe off her shoes followed by falling into bed.

“Y/N, have some water.”

“Stop telling me what to do,” she uttered, but accepted the glass of water anyway.

He ignored her. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m tired.”

“You can sleep as soon as you’ve changed and washed your face.”

She groaned, pulling a blanket over her head, “Harry…”

“Y/N.”

That stern mention of her name was enough to get her out of bed, limbs pretty much hanging loosely from her body as if she had no control over them— and honestly, it felt like she didn’t. Her eyes closed as Harry wiped a cool cloth over her face, ridding it of a light layer of makeup and sweat, everything that had accumulated at the bar. There were times she leaned into him, forehead falling to his shoulder and arms wrapping instinctively around his waist for support. She could swear that for a moment he’d pressed his lips to her forehead, but the daydream she was in barred her from really registering it.

“Why’d you go out drinking again?”

“Wanted to.”

“Told you not to do that. I meant it.”

“Well people keep hurting my feelings,” she mumbled, “and drinking your pain away is kind of a tradition in my family, so.”

Y/N had never really shared personal details about her family to Harry, but… well, the words were flowing right out of her mouth and the memories reincarnated newly in her head. She was referring to her mother, the former alcoholic in the family. Growing up her mother had drunk so much that she’d almost died from liver failure. As a small child Y/N had promised herself never to end up like her, but she was starting to understand more and more why her mother spent so many years drinking.

Harry‘s thoughts stayed internalized, but he made sure to make her feel heard. Rubbing over the top of her eyebrow, his breath hit her forehead as he spoke, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t deserve it.”

Her eyes peeked open, the previously warm towel no longer warm. Harry ran it under water again. “Deserve what?”

“Everything, especially the way I behaved earlier. I should’ve taken a moment to myself, instead I lashed out on you.”

It wasn’t until now that Y/N noticed the close proximity between her and Harry— obviously she knew he was cleaning her face for her, but it didn’t really click until now, she supposed. She could see everything, but it didn’t really matter; there was nothing about Harry, especially on him, that could deter her from thinking of him as the most beautiful man alive. Imperfections and all.

The towel met her neck this time, the other side held upright by his steady hand. She could feel his thumb tracing shapes on the surface of her skin and although she was trying very hard not to think of him in any inappropriate way, the image of his hand wrapped around her throat awakened something horrible within the confines of her intoxicated mind. It stayed there.

It was self destructive how often she spent thinking about him, really.

“You still there, baby?”

And he was so gentle— whenever he wasn’t yelling at her, of course— and soft, knowing the lines of what she could handle and what she couldn’t. No man had ever been this considerate and while it may just be his nature, it meant everything to Y/N. As the boundaries had begun to blur more and more, it became easier to misinterpret normal gestures for something more, something so much realer than it could ever be.

But he was calling her baby, and nobody had done that before.

“Yeah.”

“You were much more mouthy back in the bar,” he breathed out, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t wanna yell at me anymore?”

“No, I‘m not like you.”

“Ouch.”

Harry was humoring her and while it was really really nice; this whole thing, the gentle touches and the giggles shared in between a serious conversation, Y/N couldn’t let it get to her head.

“You were really mean to me and I didn’t do anything.”

His eyes searched for hers, but hers were stuck to his chest. “I know. I don’t know how to make it up to you, but I’ll spend a long time trying, I promise. You’re so sweet to me, so nice, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. You know that, right?”

And although her heart was still furiously bleeding out, she was willing to ignore that for now. Throw bandages on and refuse a trip to the hospital because really she was just fine. There was just something about how he spoke to her that made it feel like she was floating— like she really was fine.

“Yeah.”

“Good, it’s very important to me that you do.”

Y/N’s eyes nearly glazed over when she thought about Harry being like this on the regular. It was a dangerous game they were playing.

“Look at me,” he breathed, beckoning her to do so with the grip he still had on her throat. Her eyes looked so innocent in this moment and although Harry knew Y/N was nothing if not tainted, she looked like she’d never been touched by the realities of life. “So pretty, you know that? So beautiful.”

She felt smaller in his gaze. “You think so?”

Y/N didn’t think anyone had said that to her ever. Nothing of the sort.

“I know so.”

“Thank you.”

“How about we go find you something comfortable to sleep in, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/N shook her head, willing to rid herself of this weird tension in her body before allowing Harry to lead her back into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed as Harry retrieved some clothes and looked up at him expectantly when she could barely keep upright.

“You sure?”

“I physically can’t stand up, Harry.”

And though he looked torn, he ended up reaching for her sweater to pull it over her body, revealing the lacy bra she hid underneath. Y/N’s breasts had always been the biggest ones amongst her skinny friends and growing up she often felt ridiculed for it, though she supposed she could count on Harry not to judge. They were just there, so why pretend like they weren’t?

For Harry, taking off Y/N’s sweater was a completely different experience and although he didn’t wish to be a creep, he couldn’t help but letting out an awkward but knowing cough when he accidentally stared right down them. He hastily threw the shirt he’d brought her onto her torso, scared of what would happen if he were to delay it any longer. Harry prided himself on being a respectful man, but being with Y/N had always tested that quality of his.

“What?” She asked, a touch of feigned innocence to her tone, and he rushed to shake his head.

She knew what.

“Nothing.”

“M’kay.”

“Stand up for me?”

Y/N felt less amazing about her thighs, to be frank. She couldn’t really explain it, but they weren’t visually pleasing to her; cellulite littered the back of them and she obviously didn’t have a thigh gap, but that had become less of an issue. Y/N felt like her thighs had no real redeeming quality. It was a destructive way of thinking, she would admit, but… well, she’d carried that around since childhood.

As Harry pulled down her jeans, she felt void of anything. She didn’t exactly feel great, but better than when other guys had taken off her trousers. It was probably his age. She figured maturity increased as age did, and if Harry were to dislike the look of her body, he would be graceful about it.

“Hold onto my shoulders and lift your right leg.”

He got on his knees in front of her, pulling one leg in after the other. After doing so successfully, he allowed her to get under the covers.

“I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled into the covers, eyes fluttering to a close.

He hummed, “I know.”

“But thank you.”

“Don’t have to thank me for taking care of you.”

“Mhm,” she breathed, “it’ll be the last time, I promise.”

Sleep was pulling at her eyelids.

“Last time what?”

He received no answer. Upon a closer look, he saw Y/N completely overtaken by sleep. Her lips were situated in a pout and her foot peeked out of her thick comforter in the way he had already seen last time he’d brought her to bed.

He allowed himself more time to watch over her this time, scared that if he were to leave it would be the last he saw of her. The anxiety settled on his chest in heavy waves and the image of a precious Y/N was slipping further away from his mind. He had been a horrible person, allowing himself to become the type of man he’d always tried not to be… and he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t let this be that with her. He couldn’t bare it.

Harry had always thought of himself to be tattooed with imperfections. As he stared down at Y/N’s sleeping body, he couldn’t help the guilt that wrapped around him like a torture blanket. To him, she was perfect. She was kind and beautiful, she carried her heart out on her sleeve and overcame her past to grow in spite of painful trauma.

What he didn’t know, though, was that she thought the same of him. She thought of him as the most capable person, strong and kind. Her heart yearned for him in ways no one could comprehend.

She thought of him as everything but instead of embracing it, he’d pushed her away… and now both of them had to suffer the consequences.

—

Harry had stayed the night, but he hadn‘t slept; he‘d spent the night lying on Y/N‘s uncomfortable couch with various thoughts swirling around in his head. At eight he‘d stood up, started preparing breakfast and wasted time looking through social media to distract himself from the girl sleeping in the next room.

Y/N slipped out thirty minutes later, surprised when she saw Harry moving through her kitchen as though he knew it like the back of his hand. She coughed, not knowing where to put her arms and folding them in instead.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he tried to smile, “I hope you’re hungry, I made you a bagel with eggs if that’s okay.”

“That’s… yeah,” she swallowed a lump in her throat, stepping close to the counter, “thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“My pleasure. You—“ he pointed at the side of her face, “you have something there.”

“Oh, I—“ Harry reached forward to swipe at it, wiping his finger clean on his trousers and stroking her cheek once for good measure. “Thanks. Probably toothpaste.”

“Probably.”

Silence decorated their next few seconds, awkward glances and uncomfortable tension felt down to the bones. Then Harry straightened up and breathed in, simultaneously Y/N opened her mouth.

“I—“

“Are you— oh, sorry.”

“No, you go on,” she urged, waving a dismissive hand at him.

Harry smiled, “are you okay?”

“Uh, yes. Yeah, I am actually. Bit of a headache but that‘s expected. Thanks for…picking me up, I guess. I didn‘t want to be a burden, but I kind of told Andrew about you and he got a hold of my phone…“

Harry’s eyebrows drew together, “no, I’m glad he called. You should always reach out to me when you’re in trouble.”

“Yeah, but last time didn’t go over very well, so…”

Harry cleared his throat. “Right, I’m sorry about that. I was out of line, but that doesn‘t mean I don‘t want you to call when you need help getting home. There’s nothing more important than your safety, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but…” Y/N shook her head, overwhelming thoughts swirling endlessly inside rendering her speechless. There wasn’t anything she could say to efficiently express these concerns to him— Y/N had always been bad at communication and the last thing she wanted was to poke the bear even more.

“No go on, tell me.”

“I just… I don’t know. I felt like shit after last time.”

“I know,” he breathed out lowly, “I know you did, and I’m sorry. I didn‘t mean it.”

“But clearly you did if you felt the need to say it. I mean, it doesn’t just come out of nowhere, those accusations. You felt them. And I was thinking about it all day yesterday and… you were probably right, we are too unprofessional.”

“No, sweetheart. I enjoy our dinner sessions and I appreciate that you feel comfortable to talk to me when something bothers you—“ It didn’t matter, though. There was nothing he could say to change her mind.

The words that left her mouth were mostly involuntary. They were a protective barrier, a reason to say no, back off and a clear indication that she had no capacity for this. And although it hurt somewhere deep within her chest to express them, to become a viscous reminder of last night, especially when Harry’s eyebrows drew together in deep regret, it needed to be said.

“Harry, I meant it when I quit last night.”

A reasonable response was lost on Harry. For a moment he needed to think, to gather his thoughts— not that there were very many. He had to admit, he’d hoped they would gloss over her drunken text and pretend as though it hadn’t been. He’d hoped that Y/N felt a small spark of embarrassment when she thought about it, that she looked back on it with regret. Alas, she didn’t.

“Oh.”

He pulled back, shoulders tensing when the gravity of her statement had pulled him down along with it.

“Yeah. I mean, I love working with Jamie, I do, but I—“ I’m scared that I’ll form an attachment I will never recover from. I’m scared of the proximity we share, of how sometimes you let your fingers brush over my thigh. I’m scared because I don’t know what you mean, scared because psychoanalyzing doesn’t work on you. Or maybe— maybe I’m scared of love. With you. Or with anyone. Maybe I’m not capable of being loved. And maybe I’m not even capable of loving and maybe— just maybe, this will be the end of me. And for what? For you to say that the affection you extend to me is customary? That I have a tainted perception of reality, of love? Because I know I do. I know I do, and yet hearing it from you would hurt much more. And so maybe… maybe in this case, finding out isn’t worth the hassle. You’ll probably find I’m not either.

There was so much to say and such little capacity to say it. All Y/N could think to do was sputter words she didn’t mean and hope he understood because the alternative was ridding herself of every. little string of dignity she still possessed and she simply couldn’t do that. She couldn’t allow herself to unfold in front of the only person who’s perception of her she wanted to nurture most. No one had stayed. Even if he would come to leave, she wanted him to leave with a sound picture of her.

“But you…”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t… because of yesterday?”

“No. I mean, I guess that was a bit of an eye opener, but I—“ Y/N breathed in, “I think I’m getting too attached to you. You and Jamie.”

His eyes widened just a bit and he took a small step toward her. It was so small she hardly felt him entering her space. “I don’t mind that, Y/N, you don’t need to quit—“

“I do though,” she interrupted him, a stern undertone to her voice. She coughed and said again, “I mind.”

“I think you’re still angry about yesterday.”

She had to contain the urge to roll her eyes, “I’m not. This is separate from that.”

“So it’s the attachment that’s the problem?”

“Yes.”

Harry scoffed, “that’s ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with attachment.”

“It depends on what kind, doesn’t it?”

“Enlighten me then.”

Y/N’s mouth closed. She couldn’t do that.

So she deflected.

“Harry, my contract says that as long as I stay long enough to find a fitting replacement—“

“Fuck the contract, Y/N,” the volume of his voice almost caused Y/N to flinch into herself, “I know what my contract says. What I don’t know is why you’re giving up a job that you love, a job that pays you well, for reasons you can’t even explain to me.”

“Is my resignation not enough for you? Would hearing my reasoning really change anything if I will keep insisting on resigning no matter how often you’ll advise me against it? I doubt it matters. I doubt you would even so much as give a shit, Harry."

Y/N shook her head, tears building in the ducts of her eyes. Her father had been of great emotional abuse, her mother had spent half of her life drinking herself to liver failure and her brother had moved to Madrid as soon as he’d turned eighteen, leaving Y/N to fend for herself in a household that contained not one ounce of love— and yet this felt worse. This felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest, dropped on the floor beating and bleeding.

“You think I don’t give a shit? Really?” Y/N couldn’t help rolling her eyes, huffing when he tapped her on the wrist, muttering with a steady furrow in his brow, “don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“You know why I’m quitting and yet you want to hear it come out of my mouth. I’m not going to do it.”

“I don’t know.”

She almost laughed, “sure”

“Sweetheart—“

“Don’t call me that.” She gave him a sharp glance before heading back to her bedroom, arms falling to the sides of her timid frame. Harry stopped her just short of the door, a steady hand gripping around her wrist. She couldn’t help the gasp that left her mouth, built up tears finally streaming down in heaps— embarrassment brewed in her stomach and she couldn’t bare to look him in the eye anymore. Harry’s touch elicited a spark on her skin, blistering with uncomfortable heat. “What?”

“You’re being rude. I really think you should consider this.”

“There’s nothing to consider, okay?! I… I feel too much for you, there’s too— there’s too much, okay? There’s too fucking mu—“

What would transpire between them next was a kiss. Initiated by Harry.

It was barely a kiss, more of a brushing of the lips— tentative movements, gentle breaths. It was the minimum and yet it was more than enough. There was an electric feeling that dragged through Y/N’s entire body as she closed her eyes and let herself feel. Harry didn’t seem very much like a gentle lover— generous, without doubt, but Y/N had always pictured him as a pin-to-the-wall, bite-to-the-lip type of man and she quickly received confirmation when he began squeezing her hand as if feeling restrained.

Y/N hadn’t kissed many people; less than five, probably, but she could say with certainty that this was already better than all of the other ones combined. She knew why. She knew the reason was that she genuinely liked Harry, that he made her feel things she’d never felt before.

But then again, Harry was her boss. He was off limits, taboo. And he was absolutely out of his mind right now.

“Wait.”

His breath fanned against her chin. “You don’t want me to?”

“No I do, I just—“ she shook her head, thoughts in a disarray like they’d never been before.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

Her mouth opened but nothing came out, merely staggered breaths as she tried to regain the ability to think. The interruption came when Harry’s phone rang on the counter.

He groaned, took a glance at the screen and broke away when he saw his mother’s name flash as the caller ID.

“Yes?” He called into the speaker, frustration molding his features as he kept on listening. “Yes, okay, tell him I’m on my way. Give me twenty minutes… Love you too, bye.” When he turned to her, phone slipped into his back pocket, she could tell that he yearned to say more, that he yearned for her to say more. She knew he would halt his actions, leave time for her to get her words out before he left for whatever emergency he’d been called in for, that if she only said something he would consider putting her as a second priority after his son. She knew that he would make her feel important. But she said nothing. And nobody, not even the most patient person in the world could work with nothing. “Jamie’s asking for me. I need to go get him.”

She only nodded.

He sighed, running a tired hand down his face. “Alright. I need to go. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

She stood at exactly the same spot as Harry slammed the door shut, unwavering.

Her heart was still pounding as the words she should’ve expressed minutes ago died on her lips.

��

Résumés had been sent to him, interviews were lined up, and Y/N had received no reply back. She hadn’t received anything, really, just a text on Thursday that he would arrange for another babysitter to come in for Jamie while he left for his late meeting, to which Y/N had typed a dry ‘ok’ and left it to sit in her inbox.

The week had started fresh and Y/N had finally left home again (only to her classes, but still). After days of not working, she was scheduled to pick up Jamie at two thirty and hoped for these last weeks to resume seamlessly. She’d gotten the car from the house, locked the door back up again and made the ten minute drive down— everything was fine.

Until now. Until Y/N set foot on preschool grounds and noticed another woman hugging her arms around Jamie’s shoulders. She seemed unfamiliar at first— glasses tipped back on her long blonde hair, a pencil skirt concealing her toned legs. Y/N had no idea who she was dealing with until she took a closer look and recognized this woman to be Stacie. Y/N had seen a picture of Stacie up in Harry’s study— she seemed to have changed a little, but the structural features she associated with her still remained intact through all these years (big blue eyes, defined cheekbones).

As soon as Jamie’s eyes set on Y/N, though, Stacie’s hands were torn away from his shoulders as he ran for her. She got on her knees, his familiar smile melting away all of the cold spots she’d developed in over a week of not seeing him.

“I miss you!” Jamie pulled away to plant a kiss right on the top of the apple of Y/N’s cheek, something he only started doing recently. She guessed he’d only really learned how to. “Daddy said you pick me up today.”

“I missed you too, buddy. I see somebody else came to see you?”

“Oh, Stacie. She wants to take me home but daddy said you pick me up.”

“Yeah, okay. Do you want to wait a second while I talk to her?”

Jamie nodded, moving to stand next to her (small hand clutched in hers, of course) while Y/N greeted Stacie. Well, greet was a bit of an exaggeration; she didn’t get to before Stacie decided to introduce herself first.

“I’m his mom, I called Harry in the morning telling him I’d come for pick up. I have a packed schedule, so I’d appreciate it if you could let go of my child.”

Y/N almost laughed, the audacity of this woman a damn near mystery to her. “Wait. Don't talk about him like some sort of property. Harry never told me about anyone else coming to pick up Jamie.”

“He must’ve forgotten. He’s a busy man, I’m sure he would confirm—“

“Well then let’s call him, shall we?”

Stacie wanted to interject, she could tell, but Y/N had dialed way too fast for that to happen. The phone only had to ring once before Harry picked up, his voice coming in clear.

“Hey, you‘ve got Jamie?”

“I’m here at preschool but Stacie showed up before me and wants to take him home. You didn’t tell me, so I…” she trailed off, hoping he’d fill in the blanks.

It seemed to take a minute to click. “Stacie? His mother showed up at school?”

“Yes, was this arranged beforehand or…”

“No. No, don’t let her take him home. Shit, we talked about this last week, I don’t—“

“You… you talked about this last week?” The confusion dripped from Y/N’s voice and all she could hear was Harry’s attempt at concealing profanities. “What did you talk about last week?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just get home, tell her to call me to clear this up. I don’t want Jamie knowing Stacie is his mother yet, okay? So just get out of there before she tells him herself.”

A frown settled over Y/N’s features before she continued to end the call, scoop Jamie up into her arms and walk away after quick word. Stacie protested, but both her and Y/N knew she wouldn’t do much more than that in fear of causing a scene.

Y/N failed to pay attention to Jamie as she fastened the belt on his seat, only registering when she looked back into the rearview mirror and noticed the little pout starting to pull at his small lips.

And when he finally asked her, little quips of fear polishing his quiet tone: “is Stacie my mum?”, all Y/N could do was pretend she hadn’t heard and hope he would forget, knowing he wouldn’t.

—

Y/N bombarded Harry with questions the second he‘d unlocked that front door.

“Y/N—“

“No, I’m entitled to know this time. I’m entitled to know when she ambushes us at preschool. Don’t you want me to know what I’m dealing with if it happens again? That woman almost fucking kidnapped him—“

“Calm down, Y/N. Sit down and I’ll explain it to you.”

She huffed in annoyance, listening nonetheless. She set herself down on one of the kitchen stools and tried to take control of her breathing. She watched as he took a seat opposite her.

“Stacie came to visit last week on Wednesday. She’d called beforehand, asking if it would be okay. She came and we had dinner, we talked some things out while Jamie was in bed. She apologized, asked if we could start working things out again. I agreed under the condition that she would approach the idea of Jamie as a friend first. She said that she would respect my wishes and that she wouldn’t come near him unless I gave my permission. That’s it. So far all Jamie knows is that she’s a friend of mine. I didn’t—god,” Y/N felt bad when Harry buried his head in his hands, itching to reach out in comfort. She chose to play it safe, settling a gentle touch over his thigh. “I didn’t think she’d do this.”

Y/N hadn’t seen Harry this distraught over anything. “I’m sorry. That’s heavy.”

“It’s—“ he sighed, “it’s something I keep having to deal with. All she wants is to have him on the weekends, have him pose as her cute son. But she doesn’t actually care about him.”

Y/N couldn’t do much more than nod. She was caught between playing the comforting role and being honest. She wasn’t sure if this was the place, if her opinion would be welcomed or if it would contribute to Harry’s sorrows. “She seemed… uncooperative when I spoke to her at school. Like she was in a rush or something, it scared me.”

“Yeah, she’s hardheaded.”

“Right.” Y/N pulled her hand away when Harry lifted his head, clearing her throat and averting her eyes. The change in her behavior didn’t go unnoticed, though he knew he shouldn’t ask. “So when you talked… when you agreed to working things out, you meant that in a friendly manner? Or were you going to be… a couple again?”

“We… I don’t know. We kissed— well, she kissed me a few days ago when we met up again for a playdate with Jamie. Never discussed it any further.”

“Do you love her?”

Y/N had begun to hold her breath in, but she didn’t notice it.

Harry did. He noticed the suction of a deep breath and he noticed how his own hands got clammy with sweat.

Harry looked skeptical, as though there was something on his tongue ready to peek out tentatively, only it couldn’t because he had to spare her feelings. Because there was little Y/N, intimidated by everything she’d ever had to face in her lifetime— little Y/N who had rejected him and still expected loyalty. Little Y/N who couldn’t have him, but had always wanted to.

“I think a part of me will always love her. I mean, she gave me Jamie and he’s… the best thing to ever happen to me, really. I love him, and I will always love her for giving birth to him. I will always love her for the good parts of our relationship.”

Y/N hated herself for hating his answer. It was a perfectly reasonable answer, truthful as Y/N expected, yet her mind wandered past the barriers, past the barbed wire. She couldn’t fully grasp how he could still love her— and yet she understood perfectly. There was Jamie, of course, but there were many other things. There was her hair, her bright complexion, the beautiful curve of her hips and the effortless look of her makeup. There was the fashion, the business-casual look that seemed to mesh so well with Harry’s. There was this calling when Y/N pictured the two of them standing side by side, almost like they were destined to be together. She could imagine it perfectly, the many years they had spent together. She could see it. And it looked perfect.

Y/N coughed, head nodding along to his words as if she were listening to instructions and not some heartfelt confession. It felt instinctual, though.

When it came time for her to speak, she let a smile mold her lips into a perfect crescent moon. She never thought faking a smile could hurt more than a physical injury, but she’d been proven wrong. Everything looked intact— Y/N was sure she almost seemed unaffected from the outside. She wasn’t, though, and she wondered if Harry would recognize that.

“That’s… yeah. I get that.”

This was the first time Y/N actually felt the age gap between her and Harry. He sat here, ready to air it out. He spoke about his concerns, about the state of his son, and the only thing she could fret about was herself. Her sadness had no weight, it was too insignificant in comparison to his and it made her feel pathetic. It made her feel young and stupid and pathetic.

Harry deserved better than this. He deserved careful consideration, security for his child. He deserved trust and honesty, a sort of transparency Y/N couldn’t afford to offer to him yet.

“That’s not to say that I want to approach her in that way, especially after today, but…” he trailed off, only finding his words when it’d clicked that she wasn’t responding, “I just want you to understand that it’s complicated.”

Y/N nodded. Then she cleared her throat, ready to rid herself of this spotlight. She always messed up in the spotlight. “Um, Jamie asked me if Stacie was his mum today. I didn’t answer, but you might want to think about what you’ll say to say to him next time. I also sent you a few résumés, I’ve talked to a few people and have set up interviews, the first one is scheduled for tomorrow—“ she visibly flinched when his hand came down on her thigh, “please, Harry. I can’t. Please just let me finish this.”

“Okay.”

A deep breath, “it’s scheduled for tomorrow after you come home from work. Do you want me to come on the call, or are you okay interviewing yourself?”

“I’d like you to come.”

“Okay. I’ll stay longer tomorrow.”

“Can we talk about us now? Properly?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Harry almost laughed, “there’s a lot to talk about. We just added on a good bit today.”

“I’m quitting. That’s it.”

“You know, I don’t understand why you insist that there’s nothing going on—“

“Because there isn’t,” she snapped. “There isn’t. I’m going to check up on Jamie.”

She was teary-eyed as she slipped from the stool, ready to conceal it all for the ball of sunshine sitting in the next room. She could do it all for Jamie— she would do it all.

Before he could say any more, Y/N disappeared behind the door. Harry could hear the two of them converse in the next room and his heart felt heavy as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. Harry had always known what to do— he was a CEO, for god’s sake. He was trained to find solutions, take control of seemingly unfixable problems, to make life easy. And yet, this girl thoroughly baffled him. He had no idea what the fuck to do anymore.

And yet, he was determined to keep trying.

—

Two people had interviewed over zoom and Harry had hated every one of them. His excuses were vague, something about the lack of experience (even though they both knew that Y/N hadn’t had any when she’d started either) and the supposed ‘wrong vibe’. One time he’d criticized a woman for her ‘ridiculously shrill voice’, at which point Y/N had rolled her eyes and proceeded to walk home in a fury.

The next day Y/N showed up again, ready to interview three more people. She sat beside Harry as he set up the video call and listened as he asked questions. Y/N was mostly in attendance to listen and give her honest feedback by the end (she really did want to find someone spectacular for Jamie), so the difficult part came later. For now she could be quiet.

This woman, aside from qualified, seemed very kind. So far, it’d been the best candidate.

“So how flexible is time for you?”

“Very. I do online classes for uni, so I can very well manage my time how I see fit.”

“That sounds fine. And you’ve had plenty of experience, I see.”

“Yes, I started babysitting when I was fourteen, so for more than ten years now. The last family I worked for just moved out of the country, which is why I’m looking for something new, but I was with them three years.”

This woman had nothing but good evidence she would be the best for the job; no doubt better than Y/N. She had the experience, she seemed mature, she looked kind— she would act in a professional manner, something Y/N had never quite figured out yet.

That didn’t matter to Harry, though, because as soon as she’d gotten off the call, he muttered a ‘no’.

“Why not?” Y/N asked, bewildered by his blunt response, “she was literally perfect for the job.”

Harry lifted his shoulders in a shrug, busying himself with his laptop, “just didn’t feel right.”

“Okay, this is just getting too unreasonable at this point. You didn’t like the lack of experience, fine, that one woman’s shrill voice, fine— but this? She just didn’t feel right?”

“I don’t expect you to understand—“

“No. We’re not doing that.”

“It’s a feeling, Y/N. When I interviewed you, I got the feeling that it’s right, that I’d feel safe leaving Jamie with you. It takes trust.”

“But she’s— she’s so qualified, she—“

“Experience isn’t everything. It’s important, but not everything. You weren’t experienced when you came for your interview but you gave me the right feeling. Thus you were qualified for the job.”

And she understood, really, but it still fucking pissed her off. “That’s fucking— you’re being too picky.”

“For good reason.”

“At least two of the people we interviewed were qualified enough for a test run.”

“We still have about fifteen to go and there’s no rush.”

Y/N found this ridiculous. She muttered under her breath, pushing some hair back with a sweaty palm.

“Why is it that everything I do makes you angry?”

“Because you’re fucking infuriating.”

He breathed a chuckle, “that’s nice,” and closed his laptop. “Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me. I’ll make your favorite pasta.”

“I don’t—“ but Harry had already gotten to work, tuning her voice out without much trouble. He smiled at her, almost mocking.

“Do you have another job lined up?“

“Uh,” Y/N didn’t want to admit no, that she hadn’t even begun looking properly (save for that one café down the street from her apartment), knowing the consequences and aware of the tiring reprimanding from Harry ahead. A pitied glance. A pathetic speech. “I’ve applied.”

“Where?”

“A cafe.”

“Where?”

“You wouldn’t know it.”

“Are you hired?”

She huffed, “no.”

“Where else?”

“Um, a… another café. It’s in... near my apartment.”

“Would be bad if it wasn’t,” he quipped, paying her a shortened glance from over his cooking pot. “Do you need help?”

“No.”

“Financial help, maybe?”

Y/N groaned, “no.”

“Because I wouldn’t mind sending you some money—“

“Harry,” she cut him off in an instant, glaring daggers at him, “I’ll just send it back. I’ve saved up enough to get by for a few weeks.“

“That doesn’t exactly ease my—“

“Can we just— can we not?”

And they didn’t. Harry closed his mouth— forced it closed, actually— having to clench his jaw to stop himself from voicing unwanted thoughts. Y/N looked away, pretending this conversation hadn’t happened at all. It was easier that way, to pretend he hadn’t conveyed such an open and honest display of care, to pretend that it hadn’t ripped her heart to shreds.

There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't. It was the first time in a while that Y/N stayed (somewhat voluntarily) after her shift, and he couldn't risk pushing her away further.

For now, he had to be okay with this.

—

Y/N couldn‘t keep her eyes off of Harry, images of last night flashing in between conflicting thoughts.

She was in bed. She was clutching her blanket, a wet spot and the outline of her body marked by sweat on the sheets. He‘d looked so real fucking her, he‘d sounded so genuine whispering into her ear as he thrust up into her cunt.

He‘d called her a good girl, and she‘d run with it, afraid to look back.

But it hadn‘t been real, had it?

It‘d been a dream. But god, was it a good one.

Would he do it all the same? Would be hold her close, spreading his fingers over the expanse of her breast as he kissed her neck? Would he glide them up, and wrap them around her throat? Would he— fuck. No. She couldn’t.

But he would. And they‘d look so pretty resting there. And she‘d feel so pretty as he overwhelmed her with his presence, his chest pressing against hers. He‘d look so right as he danced along the fine line of praise and degradation— the line of rough and sweet, cold and warm. Because he would know. He would know exactly what she would need.

Wouldn‘t he?

He would. As she watched him move through the space of his living room, she knew he would. She‘d always known, really.

And Jamie wasn’t here anymore, he’d fled up the stairs. And Y/N really, really shouldn’t be here with him alone.

She was biting on her nails, eyes cast downwards in avoidance as Harry read his book on the other end of the couch. He had an arm stretched along the back of the couch and her legs were tucked to her chest as she scrolled on her phone, trying her hardest not to let her gaze run wild. It proved especially difficult when his arm fell mere inches from her legs. And when he touched her, warm thumb rubbing comforting circles into the cold of her skin, she couldn’t help biting her lip.

“You okay?”

“Hm? Yes. Why?”

A smile stretched his mouth wide, “just seem distracted, is all. Squirmy.”

“What? No, I’m fine.”

God, she was feeling small under his gaze.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” she mumbled. Harry saw her eyes, though, tired dark circles resting where they didn’t belong. He saw how they widened, how desperate they seemed for something she didn’t want to disclose to him and he wanted so badly to satisfy that need for her. “I should go home.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Would you like me to drive you?”

“Um, no. It’s okay. Thank you.”

But she failed to move.

Y/N had shut him out for so long that the effect he’d always had on her multiplied by ten. It was much much worse and the finger on her leg burned through her skin with ease.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Come here,” he demanded softly, watching as a war unfolded on her face. He could read her like a book, sensing the exact moment her heart won and her head gave up. He pulled her to him, fingers dancing up and down her shoulder. “You seem tired.”

Y/N cleared her throat, tips of fingers holding onto the edge of safety and threatening to let her cascade into the depths of danger. “I had three classes in the morning and I’ve been writing this paper, so—“ she allowed him control as he made her face the other way, legs outstretched, her back just inches from his chest and his hands massaging her tense shoulders. Her eyes closed in pleasure at the sensation. “And last night, I—“

“Last night you what?”

“I had… I had this dream and—“

She didn’t want to finish and he didn’t need her to.

“Is this okay?”

His voice felt soft and comfortable against her neck. “Yes, thank you. You’re good at that.”

He hummed.

“I really should go home though,” she mumbled, getting quieter with each word. She knew she wouldn’t dare push him away now, but she supposed it was more about convincing herself that she’d tried. “Cause I have classes early in the morning.”

“It’s only seven.”

“Yeah.”

Harry snickered quietly, her awful try at resistance not surprising him in the least. He had never seen her quite like this though, weak and smitten in his arms, on the verge of purring like a cat. He definitely couldn’t complain when she inched closer and dropped her head back so it could rest comfortably on his shoulder.

“Can you do my arms?”

“Of course, baby.”

She could’ve melted. In fact, she probably had without noticing.

And when she felt his lips pressing to her skin… well, then it was game over.

“Is this okay?”

She nodded promptly, heart racing.

Y/N was tired of rejecting this feeling, tired of pretending as though she didn’t want or need Harry’s affection. Because truly, it was all she wanted, all she’d longed for.

A love like his would feel so great.

“You look really beautiful, you know that?”

“Thank you,” she squeaked, sensing Harry’s chuckle rolling against her back at the response.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

“Me neither.”

“You’re the one who keeps running.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

Y/N took her time answering, grateful when Harry didn’t rush her. He would sit here waiting for an hour if he needed to, she was confident in that. There was no hurry, just soft hands on scalps and warm kisses on necks— Y/N hadn’t experienced such an overwhelming feeling of comfort in the arms of a man.

“I’m scared to stay.”

He sounded unfazed, giving her a surge of confidence when he asked, “why?”

“Because we’re such different people. You’re a dad, a very accomplished ceo. I’m a student, so much younger—“

“Don’t make me out to be so old, love.”

Her eyes rolled. “A little younger than you. And last week when I saw Stacie, I don’t know… it did something with my brain, I guess. You seemed so right together, you know? I didn’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything, don’t think I could bear that.”

“Look at me,” he muttered, tilting her head so that he could pin her down with a stern stare, “I couldn’t regret you, sweetheart. I regret much in life, but I wouldn’t regret you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Eh, I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

“Harry,” she warned, “I’m not the most lovable person once you get to know me.”

“I doubt that,” he retorted.

“Past experiences have proven as much.”

He gave gentle strokes to her cheek, a glaze he didn‘t expect overcoming her eyes, pulling him in, “so let me show you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, his nose mere inches away from hers. “Show me what?”

“How easy it is to love you.”

Time stood still, but it couldn’t not have with a statement of that kind. It seemed so easy for him to brush off concerns as something undeserving of thought, to create an allusion of simplicity where it didn‘t belong. Those words meant everything to her.

“You must know how wonderful that sounds coming from your mouth.”

Harry breathed a chuckle, nose nudging against hers softly. When he asked for permission, Y/N couldn’t deny him of another kiss.

And if it could’ve gotten any better than their first kiss, then it definitely had. There was a newfound sense of freedom and security with this kiss, unspoken thoughts reduced to small details rather than what had been when they’d spent time together last.

When they parted, nothing needed to be said. They already knew it all.

—

A month later.

“Y/N, will you hand me another bowl for the soup, please?”

As Y/N fulfilled Harry’s plea, she couldn’t help but let giddiness dictate her movements. Things were fresh, things were good— but they were also scary. He was scary. Anxious butterflies spread in her lower tummy at the mention of his name and infested it with the low sound of his voice.

She waited by his side as he tidied up, ready to be of assistance. It was pathetic, really, how awfully smitten she’d become for him.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

She hummed in reply, scared that if she were to speak all that would come out was a squeak. Harry chuckled, smirk molding into his cheekbones as he grasped Y/N by the waist and pushed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. His hand slid lower, giving her a squeeze.

“Are you nervous?”

“Yeah.”

“It’ll be great, I promise. And whatever he says, we’ll work it out.”

“Okay,” a surge of confidence rode her to sunny dry shores, shoulders sacking in comfort, “yeah, okay. I trust you.”

“You ready then?”

“Yes.”

Things proceeded as they always had; Y/N and Jamie shared funny anecdotes of their day as Harry mostly listened, admiring the two of them with love filling his eyes. It wasn’t until desert had come that the setting changed, unbeknownst to Jamie, and Harry took the lead.

“Jamie, we want to talk to you about something.”

Jamie stared between the two of them, waiting.

“Do you remember when you came home from school and told me about Katie and Josh? That they’re boyfriend girlfriend?”

“Yes, they still are.”

Harry chuckled, “and do you remember what I said when you asked if I had a girlfriend?”

“You said that you don’t.”

“I did. And while that may have been true for that moment, things have changed.”

Her heart melted and sank all the same when his little green eyes lit up, “do you have a girlfriend now?”

“I do,” Harry laughed, “you know her.”

“Who?”

Harry smirked, motioning to Y/N with a nod of his head to draw Jamie’s attention away. Jamie’s gaze landed on Y/N and in the matter of a second it filled with excitement. His mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Are you okay with that?” She asked, timid at first but becoming more confident when a genuine smile imprinted small dimples in his cheeks, a feature he’d been lucky enough to receive from his father.

He nodded, full of movement, and hummed in confirmation.

When Y/N and Harry had put Jamie into bed later that night, and had vacated to the kitchen to enjoy a glass of wine together, things finally fell into place. The thought of happiness within a relationship was no longer a distant one— no, it had become a reality. Harry had kept up with his promise, he had shown her easy, he’d shown her effortless, and while there was no doubt in her mind that hard times were still to come, she was confident that no matter the circumstance, her gratitude for his open portrayal of love could never be put into question.

“I love you,” she shared, eyes glassy, head tilted. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just want you to know. I think I’ve loved you for quite some time, I just didn’t want to realize it.”

The silence was short lived.

He placed his glass back down on the table and smiled, though to her it almost looked awkward. “Wow.”

“I know, you don’t have to… cause I know it’s a big deal, so you don’t have to say anything.”

“I do too,” he then offered, hand traveling to rest on her knee. “I love you.”

“Really?”

“I do.”

This stumped her.

And now it was her turn: “wow.”

Harry’s laughter spread everywhere on Y/N’s skin, engraving itself into her soul and staying there to be kept and remembered forever.

“Good. Now that that’s cleared…”

She couldn’t deny him of a passionate make-out session, hands on thighs and lips everywhere they fit, everywhere they felt right. A moan slipped from her mouth, his smirk molded into her hot skin.

“Move in with me,” he muttered, dirty against her mouth, “we’re finding a new nanny for Jamie and you don’t have a new job planned yet. Just focus on university, move in with me, with us. Let me take care of you.“

“Harry—“ his mouth collided against her neck, her eyes closed shut, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“We’ve only been together—“

“Doesn’t matter, I’ve fought for a long time to have you. I believe in us, I trust this.”

“I…“ Y/N felt torn— on one hand, she really wanted to move in with him. On the other, was that really wise? To move in with a man after a month of dating him? Albeit this was Harry, and she trusted him too. Fully. It was herself she didn’t trust. “Are you sure?”

And when she looked into his eyes, there was no not one ounce of doubt in them. They welcomed her.

“Jamie would love it just as much as me.”

“Would he?”

“Are you kidding me? He loves you so much.”

“I love him too,” she played with a strand of his hair.

“Then move in with us.”

A smile began to pull at her lips. “But I pay for groceries.”

“No,” he mumbled, “you’re too broke for me to let you do that.”

“Harry!”

“It’s true!” He laughed, massaging her thigh. “Baby, I don’t expect you to pay for anything living here. I’m more than capable—“

“I know you’re capable, but I just… I was taught not to burden other people.”

“You’re not burdening me,” he insisted, finger sliding under her chin, “it’s okay to let other people do things for you. It’s okay for others to show their love.”

“I know that.”

“So please don’t worry about it. Focus on your studies and make me proud in that way.”

“I need to make money somehow.”

“No you don’t. I’ll support you.”

“No,” she breathed right away, “I won’t depend on you for money. You’re not my… my sugar daddy.”

“Why not?” He grinned, “you call me daddy either way—“

Y/N’s eyes rolled, “shut up.”

“Told you not to roll your eyes at me.”

“Sorry.”

Harry hummed, “try it for a month. If you want to move in after, you can. If you don’t, I’ll help you find a new place. Or I’ll pay your rent while you’re here so you don’t lose out on money.”

Comfortable silence dictated the next few seconds as Y/N thought about her boyfriend’s offer, and then: “fine. We’ll try it for a month.”

Harry’s smile widened, “yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You won’t regret it."

He'd been right.

The end! Would love to hear your feedback :) but also like… don’t be too harsh cause I can’t handle it

tags:

@tpwk-mia @gem1712 @behindmygreyeyes, @sinarainbows @infixinfinity @adkmermaid2399 @daphnesutton @imaginexxharry @bry211 @haliastyles @watarmelon212 @impossibleme @cali-888 @dreamybabbyy @evie-119 @cumuluscranium @c-a-b3002 @buckybarnessimpp @freckles-things @harryedwardstylesluva24 @ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen @angelbunny222 @ivegotthecinema @harryscowgirl

I hope I didn’t forget anyone!

#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 x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #harry styles materlist #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles x nanny #harry styles ceo #harry styles fanfic rec

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mistydeyes · 1 year ago

Text

hollow apologies and avoiding glances

a continuation of this request

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summary: Months after your release from the 141, you try to acclimate to life back on base. Despite time, therapy, and medication, you still are haunted by ghosts that cloud your everyday life.

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader (but like not even a pairing at this point lol)

okay real talk here and same psa as before but please do not read if you are not comfortable with ANY OF THIS! it is upsetting in all aspects!!

warnings: torture/violence, mentions of blood, bruises, and cuts, swearing, abusive language, ANGST WITH NO HAPPY ENDING

a/n: HOLY SHIT I didn't think this would take off like it did! thank you all so much for all the love and requests to have a followup to my initial request <3

💌 @nadinesabre @casualunknownrunaway @originaldeerhottub @justpasssingby @missroro @josieguts @miss-i-ship-it @sicknasty03 @jojoblossom @azwong @shadofireshinobi @caramlizedtomatoes @deltottoro @kenz-ee @teehee-47 @tiredmetalenthusiast @hollowmasque

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You felt the cold tile imprint on your face as Ghost loomed over you. The small shallow cuts on your cheek pooled in a sea of crimson iron on the linoleum flooring. "Please," you choked out for the thousandth time, "I promise you it's not me." Your quiet pleas for respite from the torture were met by the harsh tug at your hair. "And I promise you this won't end until you tell us what you want," he spat in your face. As he violently let you fall back to the ground, you braced yourself for another round of terror.

"Did you hear me, Sergeant?" the therapist's voice echoed in your ears. You blinked as you stared back at her, balancing your trembling hands on the table. "I'm sorry, what was the question?" you asked as you gazed shamefully at the light silver cuts that decorated your forearms. "Have you done anything nice for yourself recently?" she repeated, "go on any walks, read a new book, try a new recipe?" You tried to think of the positives during the last year but none came to mind. "I started gardening," you lied through your teeth and she nodded in respect to your answer. "That's good," she encouraged and you just wanted this to be over. "Is that all for today, Captain?" you quietly asked, "I just want to go back to my quarters." She had a tightlipped smile as she gestured that your time was done. As you got up and gripped the door handle, she had one last comment. "You can't bury yourself in work, you know," she said quietly as you looked at her, "it's not healthy." You shook your head as you entered back into the hallway. "God how fucking pathetic," you whispered, trying to hold back another barrage of tears. The least you could do was go back to your quarters and drown in the minimal comfort of sleep.

As your boots clattered on the linoleum tile, you avoided the prying eyes of your colleagues. Despite your temporary disability leave and passing numerous psych examinations, everyone knew what happened to you. Whispers reached even the highest ranks and you left the sympathy flowers out to die in the trash. You ignored the phone calls and voicemails from your previous team, even denying Laswell visits to your hospital room. When you returned, no one ever uttered a word but their gazes pierced into you whenever you walked out of your room. It was humiliating but was nothing compared to the flashes of terror when you saw the faces of your old team around the base. You had taken a desk position, something far from your skills on the field, but it was all that you could handle for the moment. However, you still brushed paths with them once in a while, walking briskly when you saw their faces emerge from a crowd. Once, Gaz tried to come up to you to offer an apology after you were issued an official one from the military. However, a strong slap to the face and a fast-paced sprint in the opposite direction was all that was needed to tell them to stay away.

"This can end if you tell us where he is," Ghost whispered in your ear. You shook your head violently and bit your lip as your face was met with a hard slap. The pain shot through your body as he followed up with a punch directly to the gut. Your ears rang with static as he gripped your chin in his bloodied, gloved hand. "That's not the answer I want, Eclipse," he said through gritted teeth, holding your face painfully. As your eyes pricked with tears in agony, he released his grip. "You're fucking pathetic," he spat, "a double agent caught so easily." You stopped resisting with words from that moment on. Despite all attempts to reason, the chance of your survival grew ever slimmer and it all depended on the actions of one man.

Your solemn walk back to your room was interrupted by the hard wall of a figure. "I'm sorry," you said looking up but your heart dropped when you saw who you ran into. It wasn't the mask that made you realize who it was but the cold, unforgiving eyes of one, Simon Riley. Out of all the visits and calls you received, you never heard a word from him. He haunted you and in some cynical way, he was a ghost both in namesake and person. As you backed away in sheer terror, you kept repeating a string of apologies and incoherent tearful babbles. He took a step towards you as you stood in absolute fear. "Please, please don't come near me," you whispered, clutching the wall as your legs began to tremble with adrenaline coursing through your veins. "I just want to talk, Y/N," he said with an unsettling amount go kindness in his tone, "I-I didn't realize you were back from leave." With the late word, you could feel something inside you break. It wasn't seeing the rest of the 141 that sent you over the edge, it was the fact that he was staring at you with the same bitter gaze that sent your blood into a fever pitch. Your feelings of terror morphed into ones of anger and absolute fury.

"You didn't realize?" you shouted, not caring about how your voice echoed through the halls, "like you even fucking cared in the first place." His eyes darted around your figure and your tears grew like molten lava on your face. "No amount of apologies or therapy or goddamn medication will ever make me forget about what you put me through," you continued, throwing a frustrated punch directly to his chest, "you fucking broke me, Simon." With that final statement, you could feel all semblance of anger and fear dissolve into emptiness. You had dreamed of an altercation, one where you could finally release all of the frustration and nightmares you had endured. But now with Simon standing in front of you, you felt as minuscule as ever. You never left that empty abyss of a room and no matter how hard you tried, he would still be that horrifying presence looming over you. As he stood there, words never coming to the surface, you pushed past him without a second look. "Try to talk to me again and I'll have a restraining order for you," you spat angrily, "and you can tell the rest of the 141 my stance."

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coffeeshades · 2 months ago

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credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART IX

—we belong to you and me

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). fluff. angst. cursing, age gap, mentions of alcohol and depression. feelings of hopelessness, anxiety. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: here it goes. happy reading <3

masterlist!

January 26, 2023

Los Angeles, California

The ceiling isn’t even interesting, but it’s better than everything else right now. You’ve spent too many nights staring at the same spot above you, trying not to think, trying not to feel, but the thoughts always come creeping back. Anxiety’s a funny thing—how it picks and chooses moments to make your life its playground, especially when there’s nothing left to distract you.

You think about your depression diagnosis from a year ago. It feels like a dirty word, one that sticks to the inside of your throat whenever you try to talk about it.

Shame has a way of making you feel unworthy, like there’s a crack inside you that everyone can see. And Pedro…well, he was part of that too. Not because he’d judge you; no, you know he wouldn’t. That’s what makes it worse. He’d understand, and you know it. But it was that very understanding, that softness, that made you feel even less deserving of him. It was easier to push him away, tell yourself that he was better off without you, without your darkness looming overhead.

It was stupid. You knew it was stupid. But knowing didn’t make it any easier. For a long time, you felt like shit. The medication and therapy helped, though. You feel better now, mostly. At least enough to move through the days without the weight of the world pressing down on your chest.

On nights like this, when the city outside your window hums with life, you find yourself longing for him. Wanting him with a kind of ache that doesn’t make sense anymore. Not after a year of silence.

Okay, not complete silence.

There were the text messages, the likes, the little online interactions that served as placeholders for the real thing. But the last time you actually heard his voice was on your birthday. He called, and it was brief. Polite. He sounded tired, maybe distant. You’d called him on his birthday, too, but he didn’t pick up. A few hours later, a text: “Sorry! Really busy over here, even on my birthday. Thanks for the birthday wishes. See you soon.”

Except “See you soon” never came. It was nothing more than etiquette.

Sarah came over a few weeks later. You were sitting on your couch, mindlessly flipping through a book, when she dropped the news. “They broke up,” she’d said, leaning against the counter like it wasn’t a bomb that just exploded in your chest. “Pedro and Julia. Months ago.”

Why didn’t he tell me?

That conversation replayed in your head for days. Maybe he hadn’t told you because you weren’t that person for him anymore. The one he turned to when things went wrong. Life just went on without him in it. The strange became familiar, and here you were, on a Saturday night, staring at nothing.

You push off the sofa, grab your phone from the coffee table, and start scrolling through social media. It’s the only thing that takes the edge off, numbing the ache for a little while. But even that was a trap because almost every post you see is about him.

Pedro was everywhere, and you couldn’t escape him.

The world had caught on to how wonderful he was, and now they all wanted a piece of him. The headlines, the photos, the fan posts—everyone seemed to wonder what it would be like to love him, to touch him. The universe was taunting you with his presence, a constant reminder of what you’d had and what you’d lost. Every time you saw his face, you felt a pang of regret, sharp and unforgiving.

February 4, 2023

New York, NY

The invitation had come a week earlier, but not from him. His sister, Lux, had sent the text. “It would be nice if you came,” she’d written, and your heart had swelled in your chest.

“I’ll try,” you’d replied, though you knew as soon as you sent it that you would go. The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to New York, staring out the window, wondering what you were doing. You hadn’t seen him in person in over a year, and you didn’t even know if he wanted to see you. What if time had passed you by? What if everything between you had faded into the background, nothing more than a memory?

The night of the show arrived, and you were a wreck. A bundle of nerves, second-guessing everything. You sat in the audience, people asking for pictures here and there, and you smiled, happily obliging. But when Pedro took the stage, your heart stopped. He was nervous during the monologue, you could tell, but he quickly settled into the rhythm.

His breathing evened out, and he was so…perfect. He talked about his family, about his mother, and you felt the lump in your throat rise when he got emotional. He was always funny in the sketches, but especially when he almost broke character to laugh. You couldn’t stop watching him.

And you hoped—no, you prayed—that maybe he’d see you through the crowd.

When the show ended, people started to disperse, and there he was, surrounded by his family, by friends, all buzzing with pride and excitement. You hung back, watching as Lux tried to get everyone lined up for a photo. “Who’s gonna take it?” someone asked, and you stepped forward before you could think twice.

“I can do it,” you said, and Lux’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh my god, you came!” She rushed over, wrapping her arms around you, and you hugged her back, feeling a sudden warmth in your chest.

Nico and Pedro’s nephews followed, pulling you into their hugs as well. For a moment, it felt like old times, like maybe things hadn’t changed at all. But then Pedro turned, his gaze catching yours, and time stopped.

You stood there, staring at each other, and the world spun and stilled all at once. His eyes lit up, soft and warm, like they always had. He looked like he wanted to say something, but neither of you moved.

Five seconds. Maybe less. But it felt like forever.

You smiled, and so did he, a quiet acknowledgment passing between you. Lux handed you her phone, and you took the picture, watching them all gather together, laughing and chatting. You could feel Pedro’s eyes on you the whole time.

After the photo, he walked over, his eyes locking onto yours again.

“How…what are you…?”

“Your sister invited me,” you replied quickly.

“Of course she did,” he said, glancing back at Lux with a smile.

“Congratulations, you were incredible,” you said, the words tumbling out faster than you intended. “I’m so happy for you.”

He looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world, like you were the moon and the stars. Your heart raced, and you could feel it thumping against your ribs. He smiled, a half-smile, and his voice softened. “Thank you. I think I butchered a couple of lines, but…"

“No, no,” you insisted, shaking your head. “You were perfect. It was perfect.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, his eyes doing that thing they always did when he was holding something back. But then he cleared his throat, looking flustered. “I have to go get changed and say goodbye to a few people, but come to the afterparty, okay? Oscar and Sarah will be there.”

As if you needed a reason other than him.

“Yeah, of course,” you said, trying to sound casual.

He took a step closer, his big brown eyes fixed on you. “Thank you for being here.”

You smiled, trying to keep your composure. “Always.”

And then he turned and disappeared backstage.

•••

Later, at the afterparty, you felt like a ghost, drifting between conversations. You caught up with Oscar and Sarah, the comfort of their hugs bringing unexpected tears to your eyes. It felt good, to be surrounded by people who loved you unconditionally. But you couldn’t help yourself; you kept looking for Pedro. From across the room, your eyes would meet, and the significance of everything unsaid hung between you.

Twenty minutes passed like that. Stolen glances, quiet tension. Until you saw him slip outside to the rooftop, away from the crowd.

Without thinking, you followed him.

He stood there, looking out over the city, his broad back to you, the skyline of New York glowing in the distance. For a moment, you thought about turning around, about going back inside. But then you stepped forward, standing beside him.

“This city,” you started, “is so beautiful from up here. Makes you forget about all the bad things—like the rats and the traffic.”

He laughed—that booming, wheezing kind of laugh you loved so much—and you smiled.

Pedro smiled at you—that same familiar smile that hadn’t changed in all these years. His eyebrows lifted playfully, and for a moment, it felt like no time had passed at all. But as you looked closer, you saw it—he had changed, and yet the essence of him remained.

His hair was longer now, curling just at the ends in a way that made you want to reach out and touch it. His beard, fuller than before, had streaks of gray decorating his jawline and his hair. The lines around his eyes had deepened, like stories waiting to be told, crinkling when he smiled, as if life had both weathered and softened him.

He turned to look at you. “Hi again.”

“Hi."

“You look good,” he said, the compliment slipping from his lips with ease.

You chuckled softly. “Thanks, so do you, Mr. Popular.”

He clicked his tongue, amused. “What can I say?”

The rooftop was hushed, only the chatter and music from the party drifting up from where you stood. The world below a distant hum, leaving just the two of you bathed in the soft glow of green and gold light from the city. The air was cool but not cold, wrapping around you both in a way that felt intimate, protective.

How Deep Is Your Love started playing, and you looked towards the party, a small smile playing on your lips. As if he could read your mind, he chuckled and said, "How fitting. What are the odds?"

For the first time in what felt like forever, you were under Pedro’s gaze—not the chaotic, feverish attention you were used to, with cameras flashing and crowds screaming your name, but something deeper. His attention had always been different. It was quiet, but focused, like a steady hand on your shoulder, grounding you without a word.

For a moment, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. The pull between you too strong, a tether stretched thin by years of disconnect but never broken. You felt it—the weight of all that had gone unsaid pressing against your chest. You had to say it. Now, before you lost the courage.

“I was debating whether or not to do this here,” you began, your voice low but steady, “today of all days, but I feel like the right time will never come for us, so I’ll just say it.”

Pedro’s eyes searched yours with anticipation, perhaps fear or hope, watching you with that unwavering focus that made your heart race.

In that moment, you realized, you didn't know where to start.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words catching in your throat. “I disappeared like that, and I know I hurt you. I was... I was dealing with so much, and I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t move. Some days were harder than others, and I felt so ashamed. So lost. So sad.”

The word sad hung between you, fragile yet heavy. You could see it in his face—how your words cut him deeply. His lips parted, and you saw the pain flicker in his eyes, the understanding that only he could offer.

“Baby,” he said, the word tender, rich with affection. He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming yet calming all at once. His hand moved to your hair, fingers brushing it aside before resting gently on the side of your head. The touch was so familiar, so comforting, you closed your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of it wash over you.

“No,” Pedro said softly, his voice breaking just a little. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not doing more. For not being there when you needed me. I’m a fucking coward.”

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. “I pushed you away because I thought… I thought you were happy with her.” Your voice cracked, but you pushed through the pain. “And before that, I pushed you away because I thought you just didn't want me. I figured it was better to let you be.”

He let out a breath, stepping even closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. “I got with her because I couldn’t escape you,” he confessed, the words raw and full of regret. “You were always there, in my head, in my heart. I thought if I could be with someone else, maybe… maybe I’d forget you, but I couldn’t.”

You felt the tears sting at the back of your eyes. The truth of it, the weight of his words, felt like a key turning in a lock that had long been rusted shut. You wanted to say more, to tell him everything, but before you could, Pedro’s hand slipped to your cheek, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth.

“I was afraid that you'd be the only person I ever actually wanted. And now I'm afraid that my one and only chance at happiness has passed me by.” He whispered, his voice low and intense. “And I…I think about kissing you more than I think about anything else, literally in the world. It’s my go-to thought when my mind has a minute to spare.”

You could barely breathe. The air between you felt charged, electrified by everything he was admitting, by the love you had both buried for so long. “I was so scared,” he continued, his eyes glistening. “So scared of fucking up our friendship, scared of what people might say, and scared of losing you because… I’ve never known what to do with pain, mi amor. All I’ve ever done is hide from it. But I don’t want to do that anymore.”

You reached up, covering his hand with yours.

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if your touch was too much, too overwhelming. Then, slowly, he opened them again, his gaze locking onto yours with such intensity it made your heart ache. “I was such an idiot,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I thought I could live without you, but the truth is, I’ve never been able to. Not for a single day.”

You smiled, your own tears finally spilling over. “Well, that makes two of us.”

"You're my favorite person to talk to," he said, "even when we're fighting."

There was a beat, a single breath in which the world seemed to pause, and then he kissed you. It wasn’t a tentative kiss, shy, or unsure—it was everything. Every moment, every longing look, every stolen glance over the years poured into this one, perfect moment. His lips were soft but demanding, his hands slipping into your hair as he pulled you closer. You knew people could be watching from afar, but you melted into him, because nothing else mattered right now.

When you finally pulled back, foreheads pressed together, both of you gasping for air like you'd been drowning and only just found the surface. His forehead rested against yours, his breath shaky, and in that moment, you saw it all—the vulnerability, the fear, the anger, and beneath it all, the raw, unrelenting love.

Pedro’s voice was thick with emotion as he spoke, “I hate myself for waiting this long.” His hands slid down to your shoulders, gripping them with a desperation that made your heart twist. “I watched you disappear, and I told myself it wasn’t my place. But it was. It always was.”

His eyes bore into yours, deep pools of brown that always saw you, even when you didn’t want to be seen. His hands turned and pushed you slowly to the railing, and you could feel the cold biting into your back even through the thick layers of your jacket.

“I hated myself too,” you admitted, the words spilling out in a rush, messy and imperfect, but true. “I thought about you every day. And I hated myself for it because I couldn’t let go. I tried, God. I tried with everything I had to move on, but it was always you. It was always you, Pedro.”

His lips trembled, and you saw the tears in his eyes—the same tears that were stinging yours. He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“We wasted so much time.”

You nodded, your own heart breaking at the realization. All the years you had spent avoiding each other, convincing yourselves it was for the best, when deep down, you knew the truth.

You had been running—both of you—from something that had always been there.

“I know,” you said softly, reaching up to cup his face, your thumb brushing against the scruff on his jaw. “But we’re here now. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

He nodded, a slow, deliberate movement. “I love you,” he said, the words a soft confession.

You smiled, face wet with tears, your heart finally free of the burden it had carried for so long.

“I know."

a/n: aaaahh finally!!! these idiots got it right it only took like 20 years lol.

an extra final chapter is coming very soon. i had so much fun writing this. i started writing this silly little fic right after a breakup because i was feeling lonely and it was the best way for me to not feel like that sooo i wanted to thank everyone who read, liked, reblogged or commented, it means the world to me that someone else enjoys something that takes so much of my time. love you all so much!!!

#pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal angst #my writing #pedro pascal fic

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topguncortez · 1 year ago

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Are You With Me? | Ch I

| Jake Seresin x Shy!Wifey

series masterlist | next part

synopsis: Jake gets a terrifying call in the middle of the night that has him rushing to his ex-wife's side. Y/N is put in the middle of two men who she cared about. The Seresins get shocking news.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: emergency rooms, medical inaccuracies, mentions of blood, childhood cancer, fighting, divorce, mentions of cheating

“What happened?” Jake asked, out of breath as he ran down the corridor. He had just fallen asleep when he got a frantic call from his ex wife. He could hardly make out the words she was saying to him, but he managed to understand that she was taking their daughter to the ER. It was like a hot knife in Jake’s chest as he sprinted out of bed and broke nearly all traffic laws to get to the hospital.

Y/N’s was shaking like a leaf in the wind, as she took a step away from the large window where she had been watching doctors and nurses tend to her child, “I-I don’t know,” Her voice was thick with tears, her eyes and nose red. The only thing she wore was a nightgown and a jacket over it, “Ella, sh-she has had this cough and it hasn’t gone away and she started complaining about not being able to breathe and then. . .” Y/N sucked in a deep breath, trying to slow her heart rate down, “There was so much blood.”

“Shh, shh,” Jake pulled her into his chest, cradling the back of her head. A loud sob racked through her body, and Jake held her tighter, “Let’s go sit down, okay? I’ll get you some tea and a snack.”

Y/N nodded her head, and let Jake guide her through the hospital to the waiting room. Her body felt heavy as she collapsed in the chair. The only image flashing through her mind was of her daughter standing in the doorway of her room with blood all over her shirt. Y/N closed her eyes, rubbing them with the heel of her hand. Ella had been complaining about her chest hurting and this persistent cough that would not go away. Y/N just thought it was her being sick with the common cold.

“Here,” Jake said, holding a foam cup and a granola bar out to his ex-wife. Y/N gingerly took the items and Jake sat down in the chair next to her. The tension stretched over them as they both sat in silence, Y/N nibbling on the granola bar and Jake fiddling with his fingers. The last time they had sat this close to one another was when they were in couples therapy. Most of the time, if they had to sit near each other, they would put one of the kids in the middle.

“I’m sorry I called you so early,” Y/N mumbled, breaking the silence.

Jake looked at her, a small frown on his face, “I’d rather you did than wait until morning. I know you hate doctors.”

“Had to get over that this past year.”

A year. It had been a whole year since Jake signed those papers, and Y/N had walked out of his life. It had been a year of utter misery for the both of them, but their pride got in the way of being able to admit that. It had been a year of awkward conversations while dropping the kids off at each other’s houses. A year of avoiding each other at Dagger family events. A year of tears and aching hearts when the other mentioned going out on a date. A year of suffering because of one mistake.

“Well, Ella is my daughter,” Jake said, sitting up in his seat, “And I am going to be here for my daughter, no matter what time it is.”

They both agreed in the divorce to keep things as civil as they possibly could for the sake of the children. Jake didn’t fight Y/N on custody, only asking that he gets them on the weekends. Y/N still allowed Jake to come over as often as he wanted to, and he was at the house most nights. Jake hated going home to that small on-base house that was nothing compared to the beautiful craftsman they had bought together after Eli was born. Y/N let Jake stay for dinner, and help with bath time, before getting the kids to bed. It was always awkward when he’d leave for the night; both of them wanting to ask the other if they would stay.

“I know,” Y/N swallowed, “I just. . . I don’t know.”

The silence stretched back over them. The lobby of the emergency room was surprisingly busy for an early Tuesday morning. Drunkards were waiting to get fluids to sober up. A couple who looked like they were about to have a baby sat in the corner, the man coaxing his wife through breathing exercises. A sad looking elderly man with a deep frown etched on his face. A mother holding her child to her chest, soothing his hiccups. Y/N longed to be able to be back with Ella, but the doctors had ushered her out of the room when Ella quit breathing.

Y/N was lost in her thoughts when a voice called out to her, “Y/N.”

“Miles,” She stood up from her chair, “W-what’s going on? Is Ella alright?”

“You’re my daughter’s doctor?” Jake said, eyeing Miles up and down.

Y/N shot a glare in Jake’s direction. Now was not the time to get in a pissing match.

“I am,” Miles said, brushing off Jake’s comment, “I was working a round in the ER when she came in. I’m also lead pediatric surgeon.”

Rolling his eyes, Jake muttered, “Of course you are.”

“Anyway,” Miles continued, “We ran some tests on Ella, a simple blood test and then an X-Ray,” He paused for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. Y/N’s hand reached out for Jake’s on instinct, squeezing it, “Her blood test came back showing signs of abnormal cell growth, and there’s a small mass on the right lower lobe of her lung.”

It was as if Miles had slugged Y/N in the chest. She sat down, afraid her knees were going to give out if she were still standing. The words Miles and Jake were sharing might as well have been a world away, as none of it was making sense to her.

“How did this happen?” Y/N asked, her voice felt foreign to her as she looked up at the men, “How did I miss this?”

“We don’t really know,” Miles said softly, “Sometimes, the body just creates abnormal cells. Lung cancer in kids looks totally different than lung cancer in adults. It’s not your fault.”

Y/N nodded her head and looked down at her hands, “So what do we do?”

“We’re gonna discharge her for today, and send you home with some medicine to help suppress the cough. Then we’re gonna get you set up with an oncology appointment, run some more tests and we’ll go from there.”

“Can we see her?” Jake asked.

“Of course,” Miles nodded his head, and told them Ella’s room number.

Jake sat down next to Y/N, letting out a deep sigh. This was the last thing he thought was going to happen when Y/N called him at 2:30 in the morning. The only person Jake knew to have lung cancer was his grandfather, and it was a bitter end to his life. Hospitals, and oxygen masks, and not being able to do anything but lay in a bed and wait for death to come. It wasn’t what he imagined for his little girl. Not in this lifetime.

“You never told me what happened between you and Miles?” Jake asked, looking over at Y/N.

She let out a sigh, stretching her arms out and flexing her fingers, “Just didn’t work out.”

Truth was, Y/N was so irrevocably in love with Jake, that being with Miles was only going to cause more harm than good. Miles had been the perfect guy; he was respectful, kind, he cared about Y/N’s kids and treated them with respect as well. He also loved her, flaws and all. And that was the issue. Miles loved Y/N more than Y/N could ever love him. It broke her heart to have to break up with him, but she couldn’t let him continue to think that something was going to happen.

Jake hummed, “I thought you two were going to get-”

“Can we not talk about my love life right now?” Y/N snapped, looking at her ex, “Now is not the time.”

“I’m sorry,” Jake apologized, “She’s going to be okay, ya know?” Y/N’s eyes filled with unshed tears, “She’s strong and healthy, just like you.”

Y/N nodded her head, “I know. It’s just not what I want for her. I hate this!”

Jake wrapped his arm around Y/N’s shoulder and brought her into him. He hated seeing her cry and in the past year, he had seen her shed a lot of tears. Over the years, Y/N got better at stuffing her emotions down. It was hard raising kids with a husband who flew jets at supersonic speed into dangerous territories. She had to become both mentally and physically strong to withstand the months of Jake being gone and her left to raise the kids. Now, those emotions came crumbling down.

“Let’s go back and see her, okay?” Jake asked, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s temple. She wordlessly nodded her head and Jake stood up, helping her to her feet.

They rode the elevator in silence up to the pediatric floor where Ella was. When the doors opened they were met with bright colored green and blue walls with various animals painted on them. Children were just starting to wake up on the floor, as nurses and aids went into their rooms with colorful cups of medicine. Some parents had spent the night, sleeping on a cot next to their child’s bed, other parents were just arriving with cups of coffee and tired looks on their faces. Y/N was surprised at how warm the unit felt. That was the one thing she hated about hospitals. They always felt so cold and lonely. But the pediatric ward was filled with bright smiles, and laughter.

Jake knocked on the door to Ella’s room, which had a painted unicorn on it, “Knock, knock,” He said, slowly opening the door.

“Daddy!” Ella exclaimed. Jake rushed over to the bed, and hugged his little girl tightly. He wasn’t sure if it was because of her illness, but she felt smaller in his arms than she had ever felt, “I missed you.”

“Missed you too Ella Bella,” Jake said softly, and placed a kiss on her temple, “How are you feeling?” He helped her lay back in bed, and covered her with a blanket. Y/N silently walked to the otherside of Ella’s bed as Jake sat down on the small mattress.

“I’m tired,” Ella yawned, “Nurse Becky gave me strawberry jell-o and Auntie Val saw me when I had my pictures done!”

“She did?” Y/N asked, trying her best to sound happy. She made a mental note to contact her best friend and tell her how thankful she was for her visit to Ella. If there was one thing about Val Machado, it was that she was going to care of her friends’ kids. Val even said once the Seresin kids were basically her kids and vice versa.

“Yes! She gave me a unicorn sticker! Like the one on the door!” Ella held up the sticker that was on her hospital gown.

“That’s beautiful baby,” Jake said, his green eyes full of love as he brushed his hand over her cheek.

“Daddy,” Ella said softly, “Can I go home now?”

“Yes Elles,” Jake nodded his head, “We’re gonna go home. You, me, and Mommy.”

A weird feeling went through Y/N’s chest when Jake said they were all going home. She tried her best to ignore it, knowing that Jake was only saying words to comfort their daughter. When a nurse came in, Y/N and Jake excused themselves to go sign some paperwork and set up the next doctor’s appointment. They sat on opposite sides of a round table, Jake filling out insurance forms while Y/N sighed Ella’s discharge forms.

“You shouldn’t have told her that you were coming home,” Y/N muttered.

Jake furrowed his eyebrows, “Why? I am coming home with you guys.”

“Jake,” Y/N sighed, setting the pen down.

“No,” Jake answered, “I am not just gonna go back to base and pretend like everything is fine and dandy. Cause it’s not fine and dandy, Y/N. Our child is sick.”

“I know,” Y/N’s voice became thick with tears, “I know this, Jake.”

“Then don’t push me away,” Jake sounded defeated, “Not now. Not when we need each other the most.”

Y/N let out a shaky sigh, “I just don’t know if I can forgive you.”

“You don’t have to,” Jake said, getting up from his chair and going over to kneel in front of his wife. He grabebd her hands in his, running his thumbs over the back of them, “You don’t have to forgive me now or ever. But you need someone to rely on and be there just as much as I need someone to rely on and be there. This isn’t going to be easy. . . but we are the only ones who will understand what we are going through. We need each other right now.”

Y/N bit her lip and nodded her head, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Jake asked, his eyes full of hope and longing.

“Okay,” Y/N said again, sniffling, “Let’s go take our baby home.”

taglist: @yanna-banana @kmc1989 @soulmates8 @averyhotchner @fandom-life-12 @devil-angel-winchester @jazminlahey20 @jessicab1991 @reidshearts @princess76179 @dizzybee03 @dempy @kellyls04 @daddymack01 @beautifulandvoid @noonenuts @bradleybeachbabe @its-the-pilot @buckysteveloki-me @shibble @a-library-ofmy-own @fanfictionismyhobby @emilyoflanternhill @seitmai @moonlessnight14 @hardballoonlove @sgt-barnesveins @vhkdncu2ei8997 @1nterstellarcha0s @krispybearbouquet @a-serene-place-to-be @seresinslady

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gurugirl · 1 year ago

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A Balancing Act | Ch. 1*

Series Summary: Harry is a famous, rich, handsome, pop star and he’s been in therapy since his boy band days. When he meets Y/n, a beautiful and successful artist, he cannot take no for an answer when it comes to her. He’s determined to make her his even if he has to bend the rules a little at first.

Chapter Summary: Meeting Harry Styles at the hotel she was staying at was a surprise. But to have him invite her to his room for a drink was unexpected.

Warning: smut

Word Count: 17,748

Commissioned by @cinnamonone (thank you!! xoxo)

A Balancing Act Masterlist

Harry remembers the days when he used to go into his therapist’s office for his sessions. But after fame hit the paps knew where he was going, learned his schedule, and he was constantly bombarded. And of course, the fans caught on so there’d be screaming people trying to get his attention as he hopped from his car to the back entrance.

Lately, though, she’d been coming to his house instead. She charged more for in-house visits but Harry wasn’t bothered by the extra cost. Her time and flexibility were worth it to him so he’d happily pay the added fee.

They normally sat in his office together for the sessions. It was always like chatting with a close colleague when he’d have her over. Harry would usually have pastries and green juice or matcha to share and they’d talk about their week. She’d even talk to him about hers a little. Which always made him feel so comfortable around her. It invited him to really open up and he learned to be vulnerable with her over time.

He'd been seeing her since his One Direction days which meant in-person visits weren’t always possible if he was traveling, but Pat took a lot of late-night calls and FaceTime time sessions over the years. And Harry trusted her more than he trusted most people. She’d earned his trust. She’d heard his deepest, darkest secrets and knew all the dirty details about all of his past loves and flings. She wasn’t a sex therapist but she often gave him advice that helped him in that department.

And today she was doing just that. Listening to him drone on about his last lover, the older woman with two children who left her fiancé to be with him. He felt bad about everything in their relationship – from the beginning, he knew it wasn’t going to last and it was only meant to be a quick fling. But then he did develop feelings (Harry loved to fall in love and it was usually quite messy) against his better judgment. And then when she left the father of her children it became even more complicated.

“I just felt like I owed her. She’d given up so much for me and it was crazy of me to feed into that. I should have told her then and there that we wouldn’t end up together but I think a part of me just wanted to have the stability. But instead, it just dragged on for too long.” Harry had recently seen her at an event and she ignored him, just as he ignored her, but that didn’t mean it didn’t affect him because here he was in therapy with Pat talking about her.

Pat tapped her pen on her notepad and nodded. She’d heard all this before. But the guilt he felt was continually bubbling up and pouring out in their sessions even though they’d been broken up for the better part of a year.

“Harry, let’s talk about that. The stability part. Do you feel like you still need to be in a relationship to be stable? We’ve worked on this in the past and it sounds like that’s still a constant in your romantic attitude.”

Harry knew he was someone that just loved being with someone. Long-term, a week, a night… he just enjoyed the attention and he loved giving attention. And he was good at it. Well, he gave a lot of himself even if the relationship wasn’t serious. That’s just how he was.

“I know I need to be more confident to be alone and not have someone in my bed or my life all the time. I mean, I haven’t even had sex in like, a month.”

Pat laughed and shook her head, “I know Harry. And probably the whole world too. I know how hard that is for you – to never be able to have any privacy even if it’s just something fun," she paused as nodded, "And so a month... That's not really that long, but I’m assuming you’re referring to the model you were with in Tokyo about month ago? Pictures of you two were plastered everywhere.”

Harry nodded and chuckled, “Oh yeah. That was just… we were drunk so I wasn’t careful but I had fun ya know? I just want to be able to have fun and not deal with the public knowing that we probably fucked. Or all the weird speculation. It’s not anyone’s business. Sometimes I make mistakes and get caught in public but it’s tiresome. I want to be able to go out and do normal things but I can’t.”

Again, these were all things Pat knew about and had heard verbatim. She truly felt for him, though. Was even protective of him as if he were her son. Harry was so charming and likable and just a genuinely nice person that it was hard not to feel like he needed protecting at times.

But what could she do? He was a grown man now. A grown man who enjoyed love and all the kinds of things that went with it. But more than that he loved his job. Which was where the biggest problem lie. Harry’s job was a drawback for most people he’d attempted a relationship with. Some could handle the long distance, the frequent flights and stays at hotels, eating and dressing and showering on the road, screaming fans, women and men throwing themselves at him, stalking him, feeling entitled to his attention when he was out in public eating breakfast.

And he’d never give any of it up for a relationship. But that didn’t make it easy. Harry hardly remembered what it used to be like before he became famous. He was catapulted into the limelight as a teenager and was in one of the most popular boybands the world had ever known. But when he went off on his own for a solo career, assembled a talented group for his band, cut off his long hair, and began writing songs and crooning in well-fitted suits in small venues and theaters his fame rose year by year. Every album he put out was more popular than the one before.

With fame came flocks of fans. Who were willing to do nearly anything to get a glimpse up close of the charming boy with big green eyes, sweet dimples, and a deep voice. So yeah. Relationships suffered.

“You always have the option to just stop. Finish off your contract and then forget about fame. But you don’t want that. So doing normal things in public will be hard while you’re so famous.”

“I know. I wouldn’t want to stop. I love what I do. Just wish I had more privacy.”

“But I’m proud that you’re not isolating like you did for a while there. Wouldn’t even answer my calls for some time. Remember? You’re doing okay now, though. I think you’re improving. Your fame continues to grow and you are adjusting to it.”

Harry nodded, “Yeah. That was a rough go. Not being able to see family or close friends during the pandemic really got to me. I am still surprised by how I responded to that all that. Doesn’t feel like that was me, you know? Feels like such a long time ago.”

“It affected many people in ways they hadn’t realized it would. People who had never struggled with depression or drug use before had to fight for their lives to get better.”

“Yeah… I was just alone with all those thoughts. Missing… her. I even called her one night. Don’t remember the conversation because I had taken sleep pills right before but saw that I’d called her the night before when I looked through my phone. Realized it was bad then.”

“Camille?”

Harry shifted in his seat and sighed. He didn’t like to say her name. That had been the hardest breakup. Because he really loved her. It no longer stung like it used to but he thought of her often, “She had a boyfriend of course. Still does. And he’s far better for her. Can go with her whenever and wherever. And I couldn’t because I was so busy. And she couldn’t come with me either because she’s got her own acting and modeling career. Just… I’m okay with that all now. But there were nights when I was alone in that big house and I couldn’t stop picking apart all the things that went wrong between us.”

“Too much time to think. Even I dealt with overthinking and dwelling.”

Harry glanced at Pat and smiled, “We’re all so similar. Us humans. Even we can surprise ourselves at times by torturing our brains and combing over details long past.”

Pat was proud of how insightful Harry was and how far he'd come.

. . .

Harry’s next show was in Chicago. He was getting himself pumped up for stage time. His outfit was being tailored once again, his hair styled, a bit of bronzer and highlighter, moisturizer on his arms and torso, lips stained a deep berry shade, nails painted lavender…

Music and his fans and being on stage were Harry’s favorite things. Well, he had another favorite thing that he could have that very night. It was easy when he was on stage and singing his heart out. A little eye contact and a raised brow to the cute curvy girl with the big tits at the front of pit, a hand wave and a wink, a tequila ordered for the pretty blond in the balcony seats he had a good view of, or calling out the tall guy in the middle of his concert and continually flirting with him in front of thousands (millions after the videos made it to social media). It was easy. Harry just had it so he could really have his pick, for the most part. If he wanted.

And like every one of his sets, at the end he was exhausted yet pumped with adrenaline. Meeting some of his lucky fans and taking pictures backstage was par for the course. Nothing out of the ordinary for a night after a concert.

But he had another show the following evening and so Jeff was giving him the signal it was time to head out and get back to his hotel so he could call it a night. The morning of a show was always early for rehearsing, a good workout, an ice bath, meditation…

Harry was ushered into the back entrance of the posh hotel he was staying at and used the freight elevator to get to the top floor to his room without anyone seeing him. Which he hated. He hated having to hide and duck away from fans. Hated being treated like a big secret no matter where he went. But on the other side of the coin, he cherished his privacy so it was necessary.

Jeff left him alone after Harry settled into his suite. He had the TV on and was about to call his mom because she’d be up at that time, but then there was a knock at his door. It was past 12:30 am so he couldn’t imagine who it would be.

Harry slowly opened the door to see a hotel employee standing with a bouquet of flowers, “These were sent here earlier, Mr. Styles, but we forgot to put them in your room. My apologies for the mistake.”

Harry took the bouquet and smiled at the young man, slipping him a tip and telling him not to worry.

Pulling the card out of the flowers he put the lovely bouquet down on the buffet and opened it to find out who it was from.

“We miss you, H. Hope you’re well. Love XX”

It was his ex. The one he’d wasted nearly two years with. He’d gotten to know her children and this card was meant to pull at his heartstrings with the ‘we miss you’. And it worked. The guilt built up again. He didn’t miss her or their relationship, but the guilt he carried for everything that happened to them during and even after was upsetting. He just wished his life was truly private like a normal guy. And then maybe he could move on and get real closure.

And against Jeff’s advice, Harry decided to go down to the hotel bar by himself which would be open for another couple of hours. A drink would help. Maybe a chat with someone nice. He hoped there weren’t any crazy fans down there but he’d rather risk that than sitting alone in his suite for another minute.

The bar was mostly empty. There were a few couples at tables, some individuals sitting and drinking at the bar. Harry grabbed a small table near the front with a good view of the bar and was greeted quickly to get his order.

He looked around casually and realized no one seemed to notice him. It felt nice. A moment of peace in public without anyone snapping photos or taking videos.

Across from his small table was a woman he suddenly took note of. She was dressed smartly. A silky green blouse tucked into charcoal trousers. She was looking at her phone and sipping a cocktail of some sort. She was pretty with delicate features and he couldn’t help himself when he noticed her pretty round bottom taking up the stool she sat on. Harry wasn’t a pervert but he had the perfect view of her. He was just a man after all and he appreciated beautiful women and men at times.

The server brought his drink to him and grinned widely, “Enjoy your whisky neat, Mr. Styles.”

Suddenly the woman turned her head and made eye contact with Harry. Her eyes widened before she quickly looked back down at her phone. She recognized him. Harry knew right away. But he was intrigued that she looked away. He decided to get her attention.

“Wish I could do that.”

The woman lifted her head and turned to look at Harry, confusion on her face as she looked behind herself and then back to Harry, “Sorry, are you speaking to me?”

Harry chuckled, “Of course I am.”

She set her cell phone down and tilted her head as she turned toward him, “You wish you could do what?”

Harry nodded toward the cell phone she had on the table, “Scroll through social media so casually.”

She stitched her brows together as she looked down at her phone and then back to Harry, “What makes you think I was scrolling through social media?”

Harry laughed and he guessed that was a fair question, “You’re right. I guess I don’t know what you’re looking at. Sorry if I offended,” he lifted his glass up toward her and then took a sip.

She smiled and lifted her own glass and then took a sip in response.

But now Harry was very interested. He wondered what she was looking at but also found her response to be refreshing. Instead of fawning she was smart and snappy with him. Even though she clearly recognized him, she wasn’t giggling and asking for an autograph or a photo.

He stood up and took a chance to ask if he could join her. He knew it was gutsy but he was rarely turned down and the woman was intriguing.

“Mind if I sit here with you? A little company is nice.”

Now Y/n was very much feeling her nerves peak when she realized Harry Styles was sitting next to her table. And then he’d made conversation with her. She was surprised he was speaking to her at all and now here he was asking to sit with her. She had no reason to say no. So when she nodded and he pulled the stool out that was closest to hers and placed his whisky on the table she swallowed down the bubbling nerves and called on her natural self-confidence. She was a confident woman. She was successful and lived a good life that she worked hard for. She was smart and grounded. But she was also hyper-aware that she was not his type. So even if for the briefest moment she thought she caught him looking at her ass she had to have been wrong.

Their conversation was surprisingly fascinating to her. She imagined he’d have a lot of things to say but she didn’t realize he was such a deep and interesting person. His insight was very spot on and he was sensitive and a good listener.

When the server came over and told them it was last call they both ordered one more drink. Y/n wasn’t ready to call it a night and neither was Harry.

“So, what are you here for, in Chicago, exactly?”

“Oh, there is an art show this weekend. I, uh… I have a bunch of my pieces at the Carrie Secrist Gallery right now.”

Harry paused. She mentioned she was an artist but he didn’t realize she was here for work, “Wow. Really? Carrie Secrist Gallery,” he said the name of the gallery quietly as if to catalog the information, “So will you be here tomorrow night again?”

“Yes. Booked the room for the weekend. I leave Sunday afternoon. Hopefully, my work gets all sold so I don’t have to repack and ship it back home.”

Harry nodded and watched her lips as she spoke and then her eyes. He couldn’t stop from letting his gaze drop to her plush lips. And Y/n noticed it too. It had her palms sweating. Maybe it was just the alcohol.

“Would you want to come to my show tomorrow evening? I can get you some really good seats – two if you’d like to bring anyone. I’d love it if you came. Maybe after we could do this again,” he gestured around them.

She was momentarily stunned. It was so out of the blue, unexpected. But it was also only an invitation to his concert. Which… still… this was a personal invite from Harry Styles and an opening to see him afterward which was quite something.

His green eyes and the smile on his pink lips were so close to her. She felt like suddenly with the way he was eyeing her that perhaps there was more to his invite. She’d been pushing that feeling down since he asked to sit with her but now it was glaring. Obvious. It was obvious that he was seeking something else. Maybe a quick one-night thing before he left for his next destination.

“What time would I need to get there?”

“Show starts at 7 with the opener.”

“Hmm… the gallery where I'm showing my art doesn't close til 7. I’d be getting there too late-“

“Well just come after that’s over. I’d still love to see you even if you’re a little late.”

She nodded and tried to rationalize everything. Could she really do this? Perhaps it was nothing at all but this didn’t feel like nothing and her instincts were usually spot on. She had no reason to say no except that he was super famous and what would it all look like logistically? But looking back at his face she just saw a handsome, confident man. There didn’t need to be any strings attached or consequences. It could be fun, “Sure. That could work. But it would just be me. Anyone I’d want to bring wouldn’t be able to make it in time for tomorrow night.”

Harry’s grin widened and his famous dimples dug into his cheeks, “Even better.”

. . .

Y/n had a hard time sleeping that night. She was hoping to have a couple of drinks to wind down after the adrenaline of the gallery showing. Her evening had been excellent. She sold some of her most expensive pieces, had a fabulous dinner with the curator and a couple of other artists, and then met and had drinks with Harry Styles.

The following day at the gallery she was on fire as well. Her good mood was contagious and every one of her paintings sold. She was asked to dinner again after the gallery closed but this time she declined, citing a concert to get to as her reason for skipping out.

She received a text halfway through her day as promised with a link to the details of her ticket retrieval at the will-call window. Lifting her phone up to the person manning the booth she showed them the QR code and watched on as they called someone and got off the phone, “Just wait here for a moment. Someone’s coming to get you.”

Being ushered into the back of the venue and then through a hallway she followed behind the man until he finally led her to an area with balcony seating and a good view of the stage, “Mr. Styles has said anything you’d like is on him. Can I get you a drink?”

Y/n still felt like it was so surreal to be here at a Harry Styles show on personal invitation and now being offered something to drink. On. Him.

“Is chardonnay on the menu?”

The man nodded and left in the blink of an eye.

Harry wasn’t on the stage yet. The opener was just finishing up and the crowd was full of young girls dressed in brightly colored, outfits. Lots of feathers and fringe and glitter and rhinestones.

The man returned with a glass of chardonnay as Y/n looked out over the crowd and leaned over the balcony. She wasn’t sure what to expect when she arrived but her spot had a good view and she was happy she wasn’t down amongst all the pretty young things in front of the stage below.

The moment Harry came on the energy in the room was thick and everything was all about Harry. Fans with signs, lots of screaming, and most everyone sang along.

She couldn’t help but to dance and sing a little. The excitement and his enthusiasm spilled over everyone. Including her. Y/n noticed that it looked like Harry was watching her from the stage. He’d look up toward where she was with a grin often enough that it made her wonder. She thought perhaps he was smiling and looking toward someone else but it was definitely her because she watched as he mimicked her awful attempt at dancing by twirling around and shaking his hips exaggeratedly. She felt her face grow warm when some of the fans began to look up toward the balcony where she stood. Luckily there were other people where she was (who she later found out all had tickets from members of the band – a sort of VIP section for friends and family) so it wasn’t immediately obvious it was her he was grinning at.

The entire concert felt like a whirlwind. Harry’s charisma and style of entertainment were so contagious and exciting. Y/n felt like she was on adrenaline as she was being led backstage. The area was bustling as well. Lots of fans, mostly young girls, a table with small bites and beverages, and sitting areas.

She saw a couple of the band members taking photos with a group of people and then she heard shrieks and turned toward the commotion. There he was flocked by a group of fans and taking photos with one or two at a time. His smile was dazzling, genuine. She noted that he’d changed out of his stage outfit into a pair of basketball shorts and a sweater. He looked so casual in his outfit, yet there was no mistaking that this man commanded the room. That he was the star everyone wanted a piece of.

Y/n decided to keep herself occupied and look around while she waited for Harry to free up a bit. She wasn’t quite sure he’d really be seeing her afterward like he mentioned the night before. And the text she received earlier with the ticket details came from an automated six-digit number separated by a dash in between. Which made sense because he probably didn’t want her to have his number.

But she’d stick around to at least say hi.

“You came. Thank you,” Y/n turned to see the man behind her, with his handsome grin looking right at her.

“Oh, well, of course! Figured why not? It was a great concert by the way!”

They chatted for only a few minutes before they were interrupted again. Harry gave Y/n a look of apology, “Meet me at the hotel bar in like an hour?”

“Okay. I will try to be there in an hour,” she was going to just say absolutely yes, 100% she’d be there but that all sounded a little too desperate for her taste. She preferred to keep things level. And who knew if he’d even show up?

In her room, Y/n went back and forth between changing into something more comfortable or just keeping her current outfit on. She decided to keep on what she had and instead freshened up her hair and dotted on the smallest bit of undereye concealer.

It had been a while since she’d been interested in anyone. And she didn’t know what Harry wanted but the night before she was picking up certain vibes. She could be wrong. Perhaps she’d misread the whole situation. But she thought it could be fun to get out a little. Try and move on from the trauma of her last relationship. She tried not to think of it when she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Moving on had been something she’d been attempting to do for a while. A fun night with a handsome pop star could help a little. If that’s where things led. Hopefully.

At the bar, she ordered soda water to start. She didn’t want to get sloppy, just in case it turned into something more than just a friendly chat. It was around the time Harry said he’d meet her. She’d give him a little leeway since he had just gotten finished putting on a concert for thousands of adoring fans.

But when another thirty minutes had passed she checked her phone to find that there was nothing from him and no sign of his cute dimples in the bar anywhere either.

She waved at the bartender, “I’ll have a glass of house chardonnay please.”

She figured she might as well have one more glass of wine for the evening before calling it a night.

Looking at Instagram while she waited for her drink she realized she had a dm. It was from Dante. An artist she hit it off with at her last showing. They’d been messaging back and forth a bit but nothing had come of it. He lived a few hours away from her so getting together again hadn’t really been brought up. Except now.

Hey, I’ll be heading your way for an art exhibit soon. Would love to catch up in person if you’re free. Would you be interested in seeing me again? I’ll let you know when I’ll be in town when I find out more.

Smiling she began to type her response when the bartender placed her glass of wine down along with an envelope with her name written on the front.

She looked up at the young man in question

“Concierge handed this to me right after you ordered.”

“But how did you know this was for me?” She lifted the envelope up and flipped it over to open it up.

“Because I have your credit card with your name on it when you started your tab. Plus they described you. It’s from a very special guest I’m told.”

A very special guest.

She pulled her lips into her mouth to hide the grin that was about to take over as she looked around the bar, still, with no sign of Harry.

Pulling out the contents of the envelope she took a sip of her wine.

Sorry, I ran late. Take a drink in my room with me? p1900 - H

Blinking her eyes she felt her pulse pick up as she folded the note and tucked it into her purse. She gulped down another bit of chardonnay and grinned to herself, already having completely forgotten about Dante.

So she had read this right. The nerves in her belly bubbled up as she waved at the bartender, Check please!”

After making a pitstop at her room to really “freshen” up she realized that the floors stopped off at 8. After that was P.

Penthouse.

Hitting the P, she leaned her back into the wall as the elevator took her to the top floor.

The moment she stepped out of the elevator she was greeted by a man, “Can I help you, ma’am?”

“Oh!” She suddenly remembered who she was dealing with. Harry Styles, a world-famous, A-list pop star. Of course, he’d have security. “Yes, I uh… Harry invited me up-“ She reached into her purse and pulled out the note, “Here.”

The man unfolded the note and then looked at her with a smile, “Y/n?”

So he’d told them her name…

She nodded as he handed the note back to her, “Follow me.”

She figured this was something Harry had done before; had people brought to his room. The occasional one-night stand. Some fun for the weekend.

The man knocked at the door and only a handful of seconds passed before Harry was standing in the doorway, wearing the same after-concert outfit he’d been wearing when she left the venue earlier.

He smiled at her, “Come in,” and then looked at the man, “Thanks, Shamus.”

The suite was huge. That was no surprise. She’d seen a few nice suites in her days. Being an artist wasn’t always so lucrative but she was always invited to the good after parties. She had a lot of artsy fartsy friends, some very well-off.

“I’m really sorry about being so late. I just got caught up and then before I realized the time it was too late. I’m glad you were still at the bar.”

“Yeah,” she said as she walked around toward the sitting area with the large woven rug and plush couches, “about that… what if I wasn’t in the bar? I was about to go back to my room.”

“Well, then I guess we would have missed one another. That would have been a shame.”

“But you have my number. You could have reached out.”

Harry scratched the back of his neck as she sat down. She was acting far more confident than she really was. But this was part of what she did. She was constantly put into situations where she needed to be confident and sell herself. Her art was an extension of herself. So when she needed to make some sales at shows and galleries she learned just how to do that. Her art sold itself for the most part. But there were enough people who wanted her story. Sometimes, she was what sold her piece. She’d do whatever it took to not be a starving artist anymore.

“I know I could have. But… I hope you don’t take offense. I have a rule not to give out my number so easily. Not that I think you’d use it to do anything but I’ve just had some really bad experiences. People I’ve trusted have betrayed me and changing my number is something I have nightmares about,” he laughed as sat down next to her on the couch.

She laughed with him. She actually could sort of understand it. Being a woman was like that in a way. Giving out her number to someone could be risky. It was a gamble to have her information out there with someone she didn’t know well.

“I’m not offended. But I really thought you’d changed your mind. Though, in all honesty,” she stretched her arms overhead with a yawn and leaned back into the very shockingly comfortable couch, “I was sort of looking forward to my bed. I’m exhausted.”

Harry leaned back and draped his leg over his knee, “I know what you mean. If I were you I’d much prefer a comfy bed than to spend any time with me either,” he laughed and then put his arm along the back of the couch, “but really… if you’re tired, don’t feel pressure to stay. I am glad you’re here, though.”

There it was. He gave her the choice. So he could have the green light. The thumbs up. He was clever. Telling her she didn’t have to stay but also letting her know he wanted her there. The ball was in her court.

“I’m curious as to why you think I’m interesting enough to invite back to your room for a drink, of which I’ve not yet been offered,” she teased with a chuckle. She didn’t want to seem like some pushover but at the same time, she felt a little flirty. She’d had such a good night at the gallery and she hadn’t been alone with a man nearly as attractive as Harry in… well, she’d never been alone with a man as attractive as Harry. And he was very much giving off the air of flirty himself. The way he kept putting his finger up to his lip, the eye contact, his arm reaching across the couch behind her… His body language was a dead giveaway.

“You don’t think you’re interesting?”

Y/n smiled. He was good. Of course that was a good line to use on someone he didn’t know. She was wondering something very specific that he’d yet to admit. That she was there for some fun. A quick romp. He had a need that he wanted filled and so did she. The reason he’d asked her to his room was for that. Yet he insisted on playing coy.

“I know I’m interesting. But you don’t know me. So why is it that you’ve asked me here?” She raised her brows at him as he stood and walked to the buffet across the room.

“I felt comfortable with you from the start. It’s nice to have a conversation with someone new once in a while. Not someone in the industry,” Harry turned back with a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in his other, “and sorry I didn’t offer you a drink. Wine?”

Nodding her head she watched as Harry sat back down next to her, a little closer this time as he uncorked the bottle and poured two glasses.

Clinking their glasses together Harry sat back into the couch again. The silence had been a little awkward as he poured their drinks and Y/n was feeling a bit unsettled. She wasn’t sure what to say. As confident as she normally could be, this was getting very real and her mind wouldn’t stop wandering to what would be happening in thirty minutes or an hour from then. Would he be really going all in with her? Trying to get laid? She wouldn’t mind it, not at all. She’d happily let Harry Styles fuck her if he wanted. But would he be thinking about how her thighs and her tummy were plump and soft (mushy really was the better descriptor)?

She’d looked up his past exes because what else would one do before meeting up one on one with Harry Styles? She knew it was a bad idea but once she got a peep of some of the women he’d been with in the past… well, she certainly didn’t fit that mold. She didn’t think she was ugly. Not at all. But she wasn’t a model. She wasn’t a hot body, lush-haired, perfectly put-together wealthy woman of the world.

She was an artist. She made a good living nowadays, but nothing crazy. She lived in the Midwest USA and would go six months without getting her haircut, much less even visiting for a style. She dressed cute, she thought, but not high fashion. Not with leather, and silk, and cashmere and braided linen… Her makeup style was a crapshoot. She wore a nice, tinted moisturizer (with sunscreen because she couldn’t be bothered with the extra step), cream blush, mascara, and if she was going out, red lipstick. That was her bold makeup move. Red lips. Contouring was a foreign concept to her.

“The wine is good. Thanks,” she said lifting her glass up before taking another sip.

“Oh yeah. I enjoy a little wine once in a while. Not really much of a connoisseur but this is one of my favorite red blends.”

Y/n nodded and looked down at her glass. He was obviously feeling the nerves as well. She felt him shift next to her as he put his arm back behind her on the couch again.

She thought about just putting the moves on. Getting it over with. But then he started to talk.

“Tomorrow afternoon I fly out to Brazil. Haven’t been there in a while. Feels like with the pandemic everything just stopped. Glad to have things sort of going back to normal. Ya know? But… What about you? Do you live near Chicago? You mentioned you live in the suburbs.”

They chatted a bit, revealing small things about themselves little by little. Eventually, she even wound up telling him her age and that she’d been in a long-term relationship that ended tragically but she didn’t give him all the details. She didn’t want his pity. But it felt natural to tell him a little bit more after he opened up to her about his last girlfriend and how it was his longest relationship but that he had felt stuck in it halfway through. That she had kids and how difficult that made everything.

Y/n knew who he was talking about as well. He didn’t need to say her name because she’d googled it all beforehand.

And she was aware that she wasn’t as old as his last girlfriend. She was only about a year older than Harry was but he was so sincere and mature that he felt older. Yet, there was a playful edge to him that was refreshing. And he was an excellent listener. Just as he had been the night before.

That was another reason she felt comfortable revealing small things about herself to him. He acted like what she was saying was worth being heard. He didn’t look at the clock on the wall, or let his eyes glaze over in boredom as she spoke. He asked her questions about what she’d said, remembered her sister’s name when she mentioned that she had two nieces, and even asked her about how her art show went – remembering the name of the gallery.

“And how did it go tonight at the Carrie Secrist Gallery? Did you get all your pieces sold?”

She laughed at his question – the way he said the name of the gallery. She thought he was probably showing off a little. He was naturally very charismatic and charming and she was falling for it hard. He’d bump his knee into hers every so often and his eyes never left her face which had her skin growing warm. He was flirting in the most subtle way.

“It went well! Actually, I sold all of my pieces. I did give a discount for one of them to be displayed at a restaurant because I figure that’s like advertisement, right? But yeah. It was a really good night.”

Harry cocked his head to the side and she noted how he watched as she sipped her wine and licked her lips. He wasn’t being coy anymore. His obvious gaze was his way of moving it along.

She stared back at him and felt her skin start to prickle with nerves. It was bold to look him directly in his sharp green eyes when he was sat so close to her. She watched as his lips turned up in a small smirk and he leaned in closer, “What perfume are wearing?”

She had to pause to think. It was her travel perfume. She liked nice scents and had a few back home but when she traveled she didn’t bring her usuals with her because they were too costly to risk being broken. And normally when she was traveling it was because she was participating in an exhibit or show and that meant she would wear very little of anything scented. Mostly out of respect. Like being on an airplane and wearing a beautiful spicy perfume that you’d put on before a date. You just wouldn’t.

“I think it’s like… um… I honestly don’t know the name. It’s a sample of something that I bring when I travel. Like a powdery, clean scent. Something nonoffensive. Would hate to lose out on a sale because I was wearing some wild cotton candy, musky, floral perfume or something,” she laughed.

Harry nodded with a small smile as he watched her mouth move around her words. She couldn’t help but notice how he looked from her lips and slowly brought his gaze back up to her eyes.

“What about you? You smell nice.” It was true. He did smell good. Clean and a little bit masculine. It was definitely some kind of cologne.

He looked down over his t-shirt and scrunched his brows in thought, “You think? Felt like I might be smelling a bit off.”

Y/n shook her head with a grin, “No. You smell nice. Clean.”

“Well, I did shower after the show. I get so hot and sweaty on stage. Sometimes the outfits don’t breathe at all. Just like, my hot skin trapped under saran wrap is what it feels like,” he laughed as he spoke but the visual had Y/n’s mind going into dark and dirty places. Perhaps he’d said it on purpose.

She stayed quiet as she sipped the last bit of her wine and then leaned forward to place the glass on the table in front of them.

“Would you like another bottle of wine? Or… something else?”

Clenching her jaw she looked at his empty glass next to hers.

Or something else…

“Well, I don’t know about having more wine…”

“Okay. Me neither to be honest. Also not quite ready to go to bed just yet. Do you want to like…” he pulled his lips into his mouth and raised his brows as he bumped her knee with his.

He didn’t need to say it. She knew what he meant. She kept her eyes on his with a grin on her face as he leaned in so close she could smell the wine on his breath, “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

She was compelled to pull him toward her and put her lips to his instead of answering him verbally. She’d been watching his pink lips wrap around his words in the unique way he moved his mouth for long enough. They looked smooth and she was curious how they’d feel against hers. But the moment she felt his tongue slip out and wet the bottom of her lip she felt her mind go blank except for the thought that she was kissing Harry Styles. Sitting in his hotel room way past her bedtime with security outside of his door and an empty bottle of wine on the coffee table at her feet.

His hand moved to the back of her neck and pulled her in closer, to which she happily allowed herself to be moved toward his body. Her own fingers flitted into his thick hair, the curls winding between her fingers, just as soft as it appeared.

To her surprise (and delight) he didn’t try rushing from kissing to trying to take her clothes off. In fact, he continued kissing her and pressing his tongue into hers and lapping over her lips, squeezing the back of her neck with one hand and her soft hip with the other for longer than she might have ever kissed anyone before. His mouth against hers was erotic and wet and a bit eager even. As if he hadn’t kissed anyone in a long time. But she matched that energy because she actually hadn’t kissed anyone in a long time.

He pinched her thigh a bit harder as she moved closer, her blouse-covered breasts brushing against his taut shirt-covered chest. She knew he was in good shape because she’d seen the pictures of him wearing open vests and jackets baring his well-built upper body while prancing on stage. Tonight’s outfit showcased how beefy he was with a well-fitted t-shirt and leather pants. A reminder of where she lacked.

As his hand slid upward to the curve of her waist she pulled away a little, really not feeling like he’d enjoy her extra bits once he touched them, “I… sorry…” she shook her head and sighed, feeling embarrassed.

Harry’s lips reached for hers again, brushing them softly over hers, “Sorry for what?”

But his mouth on hers was intoxicating and the way he was still grabbing at her and pulling her in made her forget what it was she was worried about.

The truth was that Harry loved what he saw and the way she felt so soft and plush under his hand. Her mouth, her hip, her waist. And she smelled pretty and her eyes were making him lose his mind. He wanted her in his bed and on his cock (if she’d allow that). Her voice was soft and feminine and she was smart and funny.

Harry had no trouble finding someone for the night. He’d been very lucky since his One Direction days but fame was like that. It also didn’t hurt that he was handsome with a deep voice and a big cock. But recently he decided to start being a little more choosy. Perhaps to find someone he could spend more than a night with. It was hard to do, though. Because he was on the road a lot and most people couldn’t keep up with his lifestyle unless they could go on the road with him. Which was usually an impossibility.

And after Y/n had left the venue a young woman was flirting heavily with him; batting her lashes and touching his arm, and giving off all the signals that she was a sure thing. Normally he’d have just stuck with that and had a good time with her for the evening. That was the easy route. A pretty girl very willing and eager whom he could send away after without feeling too bad. Did that make him a bad person? He didn’t think so. It was just sex most of the time. He was always safe and respectful and the kind of sexual tension that would build up while he was singing and dancing (and honestly that was when he was feeling his most attractive and confident) was normal after every show. It wasn’t like he had sex with someone new after each concert. But the option was always there.

But tonight he really wanted to see Y/n again. The cute girl was the easier option, but Y/n was the kind of woman he wanted to keep with him until morning. Let her sleep in his suite and have a couple of rounds with her. There was no way to know if it could ever be more but she was something different. His therapist, Pat, had told him to stop going with what was easiest. To take a step back and look for more substance. She told him he was clearly looking for something deeper and while there was nothing wrong with a bit of fun, deep down he needed more. And he knew she was right.

Harry’s hand roamed upward to the underside of her boob and even with the blouse and the bra covering her flesh he could feel how soft and heavy her breast was. He wanted to tear her shirt off and take a look but he’d let her lead the way because she seemed like she knew what she wanted when she slid her palm over his thigh and close to his crotch. Harry was solid and already thickened under his shorts, which was quite obvious from the way the fabric tented outward. He pulled her in closer again, hoping she’d grasp him over his shorts.

But instead, when Harry pulled at her she lost her balance and so the hand she was slowly moving upward as she worked up the courage to palm over his obvious erection suddenly was planted firmly over his cock, her hand trying to steady herself so as not to crush him under her palm and so she didn’t fall forward into him like she was about to.

They both parted from the kiss, Harry laughing and Y/n apologizing and quickly removing her hand, “Oh my gosh! Are you okay?”

Harry was more than okay when he looked into her pretty eyes and saw how flustered she was, how swollen her lips were from kissing, and the way her eyes were blown out.

He put his hand over hers and pulled it back to cup over his hard dick, “As you can tell, I’m just fine,” he grinned and looked down at the state of himself and her eyes followed him. She knew he was hard, she felt it when she fell into him. Which was quite exciting now that she was having her hand guided over him, he squeezed around her fingers so she had to tighten her grip around him. She panted and looked up at him. He was girthy and the way his dick was stuffed under his shorts, bent a little bit as it was constricted by the elastic. She could tell he was hung. Very much so.

“Do you want me to… can I?” She asked, licking her lips and looking back down at his big bulge and Harry leaned back, putting his arms back along the couch.

“If you want. But if you do that then be warned that I am gonna want to return the favor.”

A laugh was forced out of Y/n’s nose as she looked back into his eyes curiously, “Be warned? As if that would be a bad thing?”

Harry shrugged, “You never know.”

Y/n bit her bottom lip and slowly tugged at the elastic of the shorts he had on to reveal he was sans underwear. The shock of seeing his thick deep pink tip so quickly had her gasping unexpectedly and pausing her motion. She could tell he was big just by the way he felt, but seeing it bare before her eyes…

Looking back up at him he nodded at her to continue so she pulled at the material, pushing it down and then finally getting a full at him, long and pretty, hard as a rock. He was fully engorged and heavy in her hand when she slid her palm over him. Yes, this would do.

Getting to her knees on the floor in between his legs she kept her hand on him, not wanting to let go. It was unbelievable that she was holding Harry Styles’ thick cock in her hand and he was hard for her. She clenched her thighs just imagining what it might feel like wrecking her insides because it would.

She licked her lips and leaned over him slowly, leisurely pumping him upward. Spitting over his tip she looked up at him and pressed her mouth to his slit with a tiny peck and used her hand to coat his cock with the saliva. She spat again to give her hand more glide and on her upward stroke, her palm squeezed around his frenulum. Harry moaned and leaned his head back. His pink lips parted.

Positioning herself more comfortably she lowered her mouth again to the underside of him, licking upward until her tongue glided over his tip and she popped his bulbous crown into her mouth and sucked. He reached down to put a hand into her hair and grunted as she got lower over him.

He tasted good. Of course, he hadn’t come yet but he was clean and smelled nice. She was never a fan of the taste of come but she was certain with Harry, she’d gulp him all down with a smile on her face despite whatever he might taste like.

Harry loved getting head. He didn’t always ask for it, and he didn’t technically ask for it this time either but she wanted it and he wanted to feel her warm mouth and plump lips wrapped around him since the night before when he first met her.

He was not disappointed either. She was taking him in well. He knew he wasn’t easy to take all the way, which was part of the reason he didn’t always ask for a blowie. But Y/n was good. He tried not to tighten his fingers in her hair, wanting her to go at her own pace but he did grasp the back of the couch with his free hand and found himself letting out a pathetic whimper when she swallowed around his tip.

She was enjoying this. She was pretty good at giving head, though it had been some time, she was a bit rusty but it was like riding a bike really. After a few swallows and deep strokes, his tip hitting the back of her mouth and making her gag lightly, she began to get the hang out of it again. And he was clearly enjoying it.

She was making a bit of a mess too. Drooling and coughing… the fabric of his shorts that was pressed under his balls was wet. Which reminded her…

Using her free hand she began to roll his scrotum in her palm gently. His balls were round and full and heavy and when he gasped she could tell that was a good sign.

“Oh my god… ffffuck, Y/n!” Harry couldn’t help it when he tightened his fingers in her hair. He was going to come already. A little bit embarrassing but she was good and the noises she was making and the way she was sucking him in, wet and warm… plus… he was getting a very good view of her with her mouth wrapped around him. Drool dripping down her chin and she’d look up at him every so often and that was doing him in. The fact that she was pushing him down her throat so deeply and then looking up at him as she gurgled around him was making him lose it.

Now, Harry was a bit dominant in the bedroom. Well, a lot actually. He didn’t always show it, especially not with one-night stands or with someone he’d just met. He liked to ease them into it unless they were clearly into it. And there was something that told him she liked it a bit rough. So when he pushed her down a little further and her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she moaned around him he coughed out a gasp and clenched his teeth to hold himself back. He wanted to have her on his cock like this for a while longer but she was conducting his perfect ideal for a blow job.

“Open that throat up for me, baby… gonna choke you with my come…” he panted his words and watched her closely as she hastened bobbing up and down over him. He took a risk to say what he wanted and she liked it. He had a feeling she would.

Y/n moaned at his words and the way he handled her hair and pushed her down over him. His sudden dominant display was welcomed and felt her arousal drip past her thong onto the insides of her thighs when he told her to open her throat for him. It was the hottest thing she’d heard in a long time.

And she did choke on his come. Salty and bitter, with an edge of sweetness. She swallowed and around him coughed as he flooded her throat. Tears poured from her eyes as she gulped him down the best she could and listening to his moans and grunts was satisfying to her.

Eventually, he released her hair and let his body melt into the couch as she licked him clean until his cock was softening in her mouth. He watched her when she sat back and wiped the back of her hand over her mouth with a small smile. The tears on her cheeks were mixed with streaks of black from her mascara and her mouth was puffy and wet.

“Come here,” Harry grasped the front of her neck and leaned in as he pulled her close so he could kiss her hard. She put her hands over his thighs to steady herself as he pulled her up and then moved her onto the couch under him. He pushed her down and lowered himself to her neck and licked upward toward her jawline, “Let me see you. Want to see your tits and your pussy. Can I, Y/n?”

She nodded as he pulled at her top. She sat up a little so he could pull the material off and she was quick to undo her clasp at the back. She was wearing a bra that was slightly complicated because her breasts were large and heavy so it was quite the device. She doubted he’d be able to figure it out fast enough.

“Holy fuck…” Harry groaned as he put his large hands over her tits and caressed the soft skin before lowering himself to attach his mouth to her left nipple and then her right one.

She hissed when he pulled at her nipple, sucking it into his mouth and squeezing gently at the other side. She hadn’t had anyone play with her tits in a long time. She’d really been missing intimacy. He sat back a little and pressed her boobs together before dipping back down to use his tongue all along her smooth flesh, tucking the wet muscle in between her breasts and licking upward toward her neck.

He continued kneading her tits as he settled himself onto his shins and sat back and looked at her face, “So fucking pretty.”

She arched her back, causing her hips to roll upward and Harry looked down to her hips, moving his hands down to the waistband of her skirt. He massaged her soft hips and watched as the material of her skirt lifted the slightest at the way he was squeezing her. He clenched his jaw and looked back into her eyes and raised his brows as if to ask her permission to keep lifting her skirt upward. She’d already nodded in response when he asked her moments ago but he wanted to know if she’d changed her mind or not.

Y/n brought her hands down and lifted the hem of her skirt up to just the part where her thighs were wholly exposed but her panties weren’t in view yet. Keeping her eyes on his she pushed at his hands to lower them so he could finish the job if he wanted. It was her way of giving him permission to pull her skirt up so he could see her.

And it wasn’t that Y/n was super confident in her body. In fact, if there was anything she was insecure about it was her weight and her body. She did well to push down the anxiety she felt about that and didn’t like to make it known she felt self-conscious, but she was. And here was Harry Styles between her legs and looking at her half-naked body, finally getting a view of her panties as he lifted her skirt. She knew she was wet between her legs already and watching the expression on his face she held her breath hoping he wasn’t grossed out by what he saw.

She watched him lick his lips as his brows set in a serious expression. He shot his gaze up to her eyes and then back down to her wet panties. She breathed a gasp when she felt his finger slip along the topmost part of her thigh just under the crotch of her panties, “You’re wet.”

She gulped hard. She knew there was nothing she could do to hide how wet she’d gotten from sucking him off. But when he thumbed at her thigh and collected her arousal before sticking his whole digit into his mouth and licking it clean, she dropped her mouth open in surprise.

“Mmm… do you know one of my favorite things to do is to put my face in between a woman’s thighs and make her come on my tongue?” He licked his lips again and pressed his thumbs to the elastic of her panties, pushing just under the fabric over her hips as he looked at her.

“I… no. I didn’t know,” was all she could respond with. She was anticipating what was to come and she couldn’t believe it so her brain wasn’t quite connecting with everything else at that moment.

Harry kept his eyes on hers as he began to lower her panties. He wanted access. Wanted to get his mouth on her and have her shaking and coming, getting his face all wet, dripping down to the couch below…

When Harry pulled the fabric down to her upper thighs he shifted to pull the material down and off her legs. He needed to have her spread apart for him so the panties needed to go.

When he finally allowed himself to look at the soft skin and the bit of hair she had all around her warm and wet pussy he closed his eyes and moaned when he gripped onto her hips, letting his fingers sink into her skin.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good. Okay? You want that, Y/n?” He yanked his shirt off over his head, revealing his well-defined chest and scattered tattoos. He must have planned on making a mess.

She nodded and looked down over her body and back into his eyes as he lowered himself over her. He went in tongue first and closed his eyes as he made the first lick upward through her slit and coated his tongue in her.

She moaned softly but then he quickly reached a hand down to the leg that was nearest the edge of the cushion and gripped onto the underpart of her thigh, making her spread out for him as he nudged into her further, lapping and sucking at her.

“OH!” She panted as his lips lowered to her entrance and his wide nose swept over her clit as he shook his head and pulled at her so he could push in further.

She grabbed onto the back of the couch with one arm and her other hand pushed into his soft hair. She rolled her hips upward and moaned at the way he felt on her, but he kept pushing her back down which was driving her nuts, in the best way. He was going in like a starved man and forcing her hips down to keep her still.

Harry wasn’t shy to eat pussy or do it his way. He found that women generally enjoyed the way he did it. His objective was always for it to feel good and for whoever was on the receiving end to come. And he really wanted to make Y/n come because of how good she’d just sucked him off. Swallowed his cock halfway down her throat and choked on his come. He wanted to give her something in return because he wanted to show her how good he could be. Hoped that he was better than anyone before him (because he liked being the best at everything he did).

“Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit!!! God! Harry, f-ffffuck!” When Harry shifted and stuffed two fingers inside and began to pump them in and out as he kept his mouth over her clit she knew she was gonna be a goner. Because this was her own go-to move when she masturbated.

She had a slim dildo she used that was curved and hit her insides nicely and loved combining that with her clit sucker[TK7] . It always got her off and Harry’s mouth and fingers were hitting all the spots she needed.

Going into this with him she figured it could be fun. Might get some pleasure, perhaps something to think back on fondly. She hoped for more than just that (if he could give her an orgasm that would have been preferred) but was prepared for just some fun but doubted an orgasm or anything like what was happening. The man was just as charming with his face between her thighs as he was talking and singing into a microphone. The humor and his charisma didn’t stop on stage. Harry was good. And sexy.

She stiffened as her muscles began to vibrate. Harry seemed to know that she was coming as he pumped his fingers into her harder and faster and continued slurping at her clit.

Only when she began to come down did she realize how loud she’d been. Her moans and cries were sure to have been heard by anyone standing near the door. Her slight embarrassment was quelled when she felt Harry’s lips still sliding over her pussy as he moaned. She was a mess and from what she could see of his face, that was too.

Pressing at his forehead as she giggled her words, “Harry! Okay… okay!” She wiggled away from him.

Harry sat up and looked down at her with a small smirk on his damp face. His eyes were hooded and he looked like he was ready for more, which she was not expecting. Figured he’d gotten what he needed and would have her on her way.

But instead, as he stood up she noticed that the strain at the front of his shorts was back with a vengeance. After pulling his shorts off, he pulled at her hand, helping her stand, and wrapped his fingers around hers as he led her to the bed.

She watched him walk in front of her, tall and well-built. A tush she could bite into. Would love to sketch and paint him in bronze, pink, olive, and brown. His thick dark hair, the lean neck holding up his big, yet handsome, head. Broad shoulders and a smooth back, strong, meaty thighs atop his sinewy lower legs. She could do his frame justice on a canvas. Add in a bit of gold and red, and plenty of dark, fine strokes to delineate his muscles. She’d use her script brush for the scattered hairs…

His mouth met hers and erased her thoughts and her gawking at his naked physique. The first thing that was apparent was the way he tasted. Like her pussy. She was not quite expecting it. She’d been out of the game like this for a bit and so kissing someone was already a fairly exciting prospect. But to have it be Harry Styles and then to have him taste like he’d just eaten her out? Now that was never something she’d had on her radar for sexual conquests. This felt like a bucket list item that would always just stay there, on the list. Except it was so far out of her realm of possibility that it never would have made it to such a list. But as it were, here she was, being pulled to his bed, his cock hard and long next to her, his mouth damp with her arousal, and then what?

“Take your skirt off for me, love.”

He didn’t ask her. He told her.

She knew that once her skirt was pulled off she’d be completely naked. In front of Harry Styles. With that body. But she complied. Bringing her skirt down over her hips and thighs until it fell into the floor in a small pile. She looked down over herself but tried not to think about the way she looked naked to him. He didn’t seem to mind her extra bits. In fact, he seemed to be rather enjoying her as she was. But she couldn’t help the way she felt so exposed.

He bent down to kiss her again, his fingers running into her hair with one hand and his other hand moving down her back and to her bottom, squishing her flesh and rutting his hips into hers.

Harry parted with a gasp and held her out so he could look at her, “You’re so fucking hot, Y/n. Climb on the bed for me.”

Her whole body was vibrating. The way he was looking at her had her nervous and vulnerable. She sat her bottom on the bed and watched him as she scooted into the middle of the mattress. Harry stood at the foot of the bed and watched her. He wasn’t shy about where he let his eyes roam. Right between her sticky thighs, over her belly up to her big tits.

“Lay back and spread your legs.”

She wasn’t used to being told what to do during sex. Her husband was the last man she slept with (years ago) and he wasn’t commanding in bed at all. This was all a first for her but it made her feel something she hadn’t really felt before. Being bossed around this way was exciting.

So she did as he said, putting her back on the comforter and hesitantly spreading her legs apart, bending at the knees and putting her feet flat onto the blanket.

She felt the bed shift as Harry climbed up next to her and he put his hands on her shins and looked at her shiny pussy.

His small moan vibrated through his chest as he looked the pretty girl in her eyes, “Can I fuck you? Is that all right?”

Y/n nodded quickly and shot her eyes down to Harry’s cock. She couldn’t believe he was so hard again. But she felt like that was probably somewhat of a compliment, “I don’t have any condoms, um-“

Harry crawled over her, his thighs spreading between hers, causing her legs to part further, “I have some. Are you on birth control?” He grazed his mouth over hers and as he pressed his lips to hers she felt his cock against her pelvis.

Panting her words and rolling her hips upward, “Yes I am.”

Harry’s lips slotted between Y/n’s as he settled his hips against hers, slowly putting himself through her labia to feel her first. Without having to put on a condom. He knew it was necessary but to be able to feel her warm against his skin, wetting it, the hair scratching it…

Y/n gasped when his cockhead nudged at her entrance before he slid up through her crease and it bumped into her clit. It was salacious. Almost as if he were testing the waters to not put on a condom. Her body and her mind were beginning to synch up into lust and want again. He’d just given her an orgasm but she was on her way to that point of no return once again.

And Harry never went without a condom with a one-night stand or a quick weekend fling. Of course, once the relationship was established there was no need but never before had he wanted so badly to enter a woman without really knowing if he could trust her or not. She said she was on birth control but how could he know?

Reluctantly he got off the bed to grab a condom from his suitcase and paused next to the bed to roll it down from his tip to his base.

Y/n watched. He was thick and long. The hair at his base was dark and masculine. He crawled back in between her legs and kissed the insides of her thighs and lapped upward quickly over her pussy one last time for good measure before positioning himself over her with his shaft in his hand, aiming himself at her cunt.

The room was lit with only one lamp and the bed was soft underneath her body. She couldn’t quite believe that she was in that moment, with Harry Styles above her. She hadn’t had sex with anyone since her husband. But here she was, with a man’s cock pressed at her entrance, waiting for her to finally give permission so he could push into her. So he could fuck her. So Harry Styles could fuck her.

Rolling her hips upward slightly and grasping onto his lats, “Please.”

Harry panted out a breath as he fit his cock into her, the initial entry needing a bit of force to squeeze his thick head past the threshold of her tight muscle. She gasped at the widening of her opening. It felt good to have a man poking into her rather than her silicon dildo for once.

She held onto his back for dear life as he doused himself in her. She was soft and thick and tight. It was incredible and warm. His strokes were long, slowly sinking in deeper and deeper with each rock inward.

“How’s that feel?” Harry’s cock was feeling very good, he hoped the noises she was making were a good sign. He thought it was but wanted her to be more vocal.

“Oh my god, Harry… fuck that feels good.” She purred.

Harry put his hands over her tits and continued fucking into her, his thighs giving him leverage for each plunge.

“Yeah? You like that? Tell me what you like, baby. What do you need?”

Her mind went blank as his long dick slicked in and out of her, spreading her, touching her deeply… What did she like? What did she need? It had been so long and never had she needed to vocalize it before.

“You, Harry,” She hissed when he bucked his hips inward, a deep thrust that sent her body surging upward from the force of his drive.

“Me? Oh baby, you have me, can’t you feel that?” His words came out pinched in ecstasy, “But talk to me. What do you like?”

Slowly moving a hand upward to her neck he wrapped his fingers around and squeezed only the slightest as he continued rolling his hips into her. He tweaked one of her nipples with his other hand and she gasped as her lips parted.

“What about this? You like when I do this?” He dug the pads of his fingers into the side of her neck before loosening but keeping his hand over her throat.

She nodded quickly, not expecting to have enjoyed it but she did, “Yes.”

“And this?” Rolling her nipple between his fingers and giving her a good hard jerk of his hips inward she grunted and nodded again.

“Good girl. You like it a little rough then. Let’s see what else we can learn…” he spoke as he gripped her neck solidly, but still giving her space to say no if she needed. He leaned over her, his face directly above, “Open your mouth.”

She complied and parted her lips.

“Tongue out.”

She jutted her pink tongue past her lips and Harry spat down into her mouth and then cooed at her as he watched his saliva drip down her tongue and into her throat, “I can tell you like that too. Is that right? Are you my dirty girl?”

Moaning and feeling her body floating away from her brain she nodded, “I’m your dirty girl.”

Harry sucked in a sharp breath at her words. It was just what he wanted to hear.

“You are, aren’t you? My dirty girl likes getting fucked nice and hard,” he punctuated his statement with a harsh thrust, “Choked, spit on… Fuck baby I think you might just be my favorite girl. What else do you like?”

She was officially stunned and gushing from his words. And his cock too of course. But the way he was talking to her and showing her what she liked made her feel like a new woman. It was an experience she wouldn’t soon forget.

“Aww… poor thing. Having a hard time speaking, dear? Need some help?”

She gurgled a moan and nodded. Her belly was on fire with how deep his cock was. Everything around her was fuzzy.

Suddenly Harry pulled out and grasped her hips, pushing her to roll to her front, “Hands and knees.”

She whined as she pushed herself upward, spreading her legs and pushing her knees and palms into the blanket below.

“Shh, shhh… no need to cry, baby. Daddy’s here.” It was a risk. To say it. To call himself Daddy. But it was his favorite. He loved being called Daddy when he was fucking anyone who was even just a little bit submissive. And Y/n was quite submissive but he had a feeling she didn’t even know it. Based on how confident and cheeky she was when he met her and when she got to his room earlier he knew he had the potential for a brat on his hands but for her to also be a bit submissive? And this pretty? He’d hit the jackpot.

He smacked her bottom, both sides with a solid whack causing her to jump and groan, her head lolling downward as she reared back, her pussy and ass on display for him.

“And you like that too don’t you pretty girl?”

She nodded her head and moved her hips back again, most likely searching for his cock to fit itself back into her but he needed her to start talking a little more.

“I knew you would. But I need to hear your words my lovely little thing. Can you talk to me? Do you want more spankings? Or do you want something else?” He grinned as he squished the plump flesh of her thick bottom, the view something he’d sear into his memory and bring with him on tour until he could have her again. He knew he’d want to see her again after this.

“Fffuck…” she moaned softly. She didn’t know what she wanted. She just wanted whatever he was doing to continue. She was absolutely loving it. And the Daddy thing? She had never called anyone Daddy before. Not even her own dad. It would need to grow on her.

Harry grasped the base of his shaft and dragged his tip through her folds gently, up and down, pressing himself at her center and she pushed back to make him go in but he backed away, smacking her bum again and making her jolt.

“Ah, ah, ah… Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want. I need to hear it from those pretty lips.”

Y/n swallowed as her heart raced and not just from how turned on she was. From nerves. She was surprised by the reaction he was pulling out of her. But she did want a couple of things and there was something in how dominant he was being that made her feel like she needed to comply.

“Fuck me and spank me. Please.”

Harry smiled and slid his cockhead into her folds again, “Yeah? I love it when you say please. Makes me very happy. I’ll give you what you want. But I want something from you too, Y/n.”

Harry watched as his tip parted her shiny crease as he pushed upward, spreading her arousal all around.

When she stayed silent Harry brought his free palm down to her bottom, the smack sounding in the room, “Well aren’t you going to ask what I want?”

She gasped and took a breath, “Sorry. What do you want?” Her words were coming out breathy and light.

“I need you to keep telling me if you like something. And ask me if there’s something else you want. Understood?”

“Yes.” She nodded her head and bit her lip, waiting for him to slip inside again.

Harry removed his palm from her bottom and gathered her hair between his fingers and pulled her head up gently, “Can you guess what else I want? What else makes Daddy really happy?”

Shaking her head and peeping the word no Harry leaned in to speak into her ear, “I just gave you a hint little girl. Let’s see if you can use that brain of yours to figure out what I like.”

Her eyes fluttered at the feel of his breath at the back of her ear and his fingers pulling at her hair. It wasn’t registering to her what he wanted. He gave her a hint?

“Come on… I know you can figure this one out. It’s not that hard. Or are you kind of dumb when my cock is right here, nudging into you? Hmm?” He pushed in the smallest bit, allowing his tip to tuck into her for a moment before bringing it back out.

She whined and licked her lips. It was true that it was hard to think when he was handling her the way he was.

“Sorry. I’m not sure.”

Harry’s dark baritone vibrated off her ear as he spoke, “S’okay. We’ll take our time til you figure it all out. Do you want Daddy’s cock?”

She nodded quickly and Harry chuckled as he spoke, “Yeah? Well then tell me, dear, who’s cock do you want?” He nudged in again, prodding her crease and pushing just into her opening. It was taking all of his resolve not to just hammer into her at that point.

But hearing him say that, it clicked. She knew what he wanted, “Yours, Daddy.”

It felt odd coming out of her mouth. She wasn’t sure if she liked it but the moment he stuffed her again with his large cock she keened and moaned and knew that he deserved to be called Daddy if that’s what he wanted. He gave her what she wanted so she’d give him what he wanted.

“Yes… good girl. I knew you could do it, baby,” Harry spoke through gritted teeth when he sunk in to the hilt. He pulled back and then fucked into her quickly. His pace soon became harsh as he let go of her hair and pounded her from behind. Smacking her bottom with his palm every few strokes her flesh grew red slowly and her moans grew louder.

“Oh! Yess! Ffffuck!” Her body was rocked forward at each strike of his hips into hers. The sound of skin thudding wetly and smacks of his hand to her flesh were loud in the room.

Harry held onto her hips, squeezing tightly as he gave her bottom a break from the strikes.

“My dick is coated in your cream. Ffuuck little girl. Goddamn best girl I’ve had. Can you rub your sweet little pussy for me? Put your fingers where you need them. Show Daddy you’re a good girl.”

Harry’s deep voice and the sound of his fat cock penetrating her wet hole were egging her on as she brought her hand between her legs to get herself closer to the edge as she rubbed her clit.

His engorged cock twitched when he felt her fingers brush against his balls as he thumped into her over and over again.

She began to see stars as she sputtered inarticulate words. Harry was going in hard but he felt so good inside of her. The way he was holding her hips kept her grounded as his balls whacked into her on each thrust. She could feel how wet his scrotum was from her arousal soaking him.

But then her eyes popped open and her whining and choked moans halted when he released one of her hips and put his fingers over her bum. On her anus. She hadn’t expected it.

Harry slowed his movements as he spoke, “Oh did that surprise you? How am I supposed to keep my hands off your tiny hole here,” he rubbed it as he spoke, still fucking into her deeply but slowly now, “when she’s looking directly up at me all empty and needy?”

She felt liquid drip over her bottom when Harry spit down onto her puckered hole and rub his saliva around, “Can I? Just a finger. It’s going to feel so good.”

Y/n panted and nodded, “Okay.”

Never once had she done anything sexual with her bottom. She’d never played with herself there, nor considered having anyone do it for her either. Her husband had certainly never tried.

More spit was rubbed over the hole and she felt Harry’s finger slowly push in as she continued rubbing her button and Harry continued filling her cunt with his heavy cock. It felt odd. Not like being fingered in her pussy. A very different sensation but it wasn’t bad. Well, she’d say that it was actually pretty good in combination with everything else.

“Relax for me. Let me make you feel good.” His finger fucked into her ass as he slowly began to increase the tempo of his hips.

“Ahh!” She squeaked out as he dipped into her cervix and she clenched over his cock and his finger at the ache.

“S’okay. M’cock’s getting in there deep, isn’t it? Do you want me to stop?”

Shaking her head she spoke with her words coming out in punches between his thrusts, “Please! Don’t stop! Need you!”

She did need him. Needed him to keep doing what he was doing. Needed his dirty words, his big cock, and his long fingers. She was going to come if he continued.

Harry panted and groaned at what he was seeing and feeling. Not only was she making him feel so good, but watching her pussy being fucked and her ass being fingered was a dream.

He slid his finger in and out gently and he could tell that she was starting to relax a little. A good sign. He’d love to fuck her bottom one day. Get her nice and open and just wreck all of her holes.

Harry’s long, fast strokes into her pussy were devasting her insides. She knew she’d be limping the next day but that thought only excited her.

Applying just the right amount of pressure to her clit as she rubbed, feeling Harry’s finger slipping in and out of her, and with the way his cock was working into her so deep she could no longer stop her body from shaking and her lungs from gasping for air loudly.

Harry felt her walls squeeze and pulse around him as he continued rolling his hips into her steadily, fucking her through her orgasm, her moans and gasps, her fingers at her clit, and her thighs shaking… he smiled as he threw his head back to feel it. To feel her in her orgasm. Her soft insides, wet, and contracting around him.

“Fuck, baby… it’s that good is it?” Harry looked down at the scene below. Absolutely filthy. His wide cock parted her fluttering pussy as it gripped him tight. Her arousal was slathered over him.

As she began to loosen up and he could tell she was done he gently pulled out, both his cock and his finger, “Good girl. Can you lie on your back? I’m almost there. Just need a little more. Want to make you come one more time.”

Y/n gulped and adjusted herself onto her back, “I’m not sure I can come again.”

Harry climbed over her and put his palms over her tits again, “You’ll come again.”

She watched him as he allowed his gaze to look over her body. She really wished he wouldn’t look too closely like he was. She felt a bit embarrassed. Being chubby was always something she contended with for as long as she could remember. As confident as she conveyed herself in her day-to-day, the truth was that once her clothes came off she felt well below average.

Harry gently brushed his fingers along her cheekbone and slowly pushed back in, the front of his thighs pressed into the back of hers.

The feel of him re-entering her was sharp and achy. He’d already done quite a number on her. She was positive she wouldn’t have another orgasm. Impossible.

“I love how you feel. Fuck, baby.”

He angled himself so he was pushing down into her, splitting her pussy and pressing deeply.

“Ahh!” She hadn’t expected the way it would feel when he pushed her hips upward and fucked down into her. It was tight and he was long and it pinched the smallest bit but when she looked at his face she saw ecstasy. He was definitely close.

“So tight isn’t it? Taking me so good, Y/n. Wanna feel you come once more. Just squeezing the fuck out of me again so when I come I can feel you milking me, sucking my dick into your cunt, begging for my come.”

Y/n moaned at the words. It was hot. Harry’s strong body and his roughness, and the way he spoke were so hot.

He moved his hand from her cheek down to her neck and softly squeezed, “It’s so messy down there sweet girl. Just drenching me. Can you hear that?” His question was punctuated by the noises their bodies made together. His lengthy prick pushing into her and dragging back to the tip before impaling her again. Over and over. The slick sounds of his condom coated in her, spreading her open. Her body felt it all. She had been so sensitive after her orgasm and now her insides were aching in delight. The feel of him wide and thick inside and then deep as he dipped all the way in sent zips and currents through her body.

Harry enjoyed the way his body felt inside of her. It was lavish and soft and warm and she was so wet for him, so needy. Her big tits were swaying as he thrust deep and her nipples were peaked. He loved how she looked with his hand over her throat. He wanted to do so much more. Preferred it far rougher but this was their first, and perhaps only time. He didn’t generally enjoy scaring them off on night one. A few rounds on separate occasions and he’d show what he was really into. He hoped this wouldn’t be their last time. He felt like she’d enjoy what he was into. Felt like she might be too. She liked to be choked a little. She called him Daddy even which was making him lose his mind. She’d be into the idea of playing into his breeding kink too he bet.

And that thought sent him so deep into his fantasy he began to feel his orgasm swell into his balls. Just imagining her plush body and wide hips taking him like he needed. He needed to fuck a lot. He normally masturbated about twice a day when he didn’t have someone to come inside of. But when he was in a steady relationship he’d drain his cock all day long when there was time for it.

He could just see Y/n’s cunt dripping with his come and he’d make her lie flat and keep it inside of her so it would soak into her. The idea that she could get pregnant by him. Fill her with his sperm and make her body grow thicker and softer with his babies. Her tits would swell and engorge.

But that was just a fantasy. Now he was fucking so hard and so deep into the hottest woman he’d had in a long time. Her plump hips and soft pussy were begging him for more. Even though she insisted she couldn’t come again, he could already tell she was getting even slicker for him. Her body preparing for her third orgasm. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her mouth was wide open.

“Y’gonna come for me, little girl. Come on Daddy’s cock. You can do it. I know you can. Can feel you fluttering around me already. So needy for more aren’t you?”

The words she wanted to say were yes and don’t stop, please! But instead, she gurgled and choked her moans when his pelvis rubbed over hers, offering her clit the friction needed. A few more of his harsh strokes and the way their bodies connected, rubbing and pushing into one another had her button being worked just like she wanted.

Harry coughed out a laugh but then groaned when he felt her begin to shake, “Oh, baby. Ffuck… thought you said you couldn’t come again? Hm? Look at that…” his strokes were long and deep as he felt her body give way to another orgasm. Her spasming cunt squeezed his cock deliciously and Harry pumped himself into her so she could come properly while getting railed and having her clit stimulated all at once.

And just as she was beginning to relax Harry finally released. He choked out a moan and stilled his hips, pushing in so his cockhead was pressing deep into her, wishing he was coating her insides, filling her with her sperm. But as it was, this was not bad either. In fact, even with the stupid condom, it was really good. The best. He hissed as his cock throbbed inside of her, his long dick pumping his come out to the tip and into the condom.

She felt him twitching inside of her as his orgasm shot through his cock. He was a glorious sight to behold above her. His panted breaths and mouth dropped open as ecstasy took over his features. Her pussy was doing that to him. It made her smile as he stilled his hips and let out a low rumble. She did that to him. She’d made him come twice in one night. She made Harry Styles have two orgasms and he gave her three. Unheard of. Absolutely insane.

Her chest was still rising and falling heavily as Harry opened his eyes and looked down at her. She felt it, the way he looked at her. How connected they were. This wasn’t just sex. Or maybe it was, she really wouldn’t know because she’d been out of the game for some time. Perhaps this was just how he was with everyone he fucked. Made them dreamy and drowsy and feel things deeply for him. His charm was off the charts. Perhaps it was just that. Maybe nothing more.

Harry leaned down kissed the edge of her mouth and then pressed his lips firmly over hers, his cock still half-hard inside of her. He could get used to this. She was so open with him and somehow they just worked together. And even though this was all physical, Harry couldn’t help but wonder if this connection went beyond the physical. He did like her. A lot. Already. But that was how he was. He’d fall in love and then fall out of it just as quickly. He had to be careful. Not to hurt himself. Not to hurt her. He gazed down at her with a tired smile.

“Stay the night. Want you again in the morning. Would like to have you here with me in bed. Keep me warm.”

She swallowed and her heart thrashed in her chest. He was too good. This man could make anyone fall in love. She knew it. But she wasn’t going to say no. She likely would never have the chance with him again. And if the following morning was anything like what had just happened, well, she quickly found herself nodding, “Yes. Okay.”

. . .

She felt her thighs tingling and her hips were aching when she squinted her eyes open. She couldn’t read the clock on the table next to the bed. Her vision was blurry but the sun was peeking through the cracks of the curtains. It was morning. And the only reason she’d woken up was because Harry was lying behind her. He was moving the slightest with his chest pressed against her back and his breath on her neck.

She lifted her head and Harry perked up when he realized she was awake, “Good thing you’re awake. Was getting lonely here,” he spoke as he softly grazed his hand up over her tummy and then indulgently squeezed at her breast.

She swallowed and croaked out her words, “I would have slept longer I think.”

“You can go back to sleep if you really want,” he suddenly shifted and rutted into her bottom and it was then that she felt his stiff cock pressing into her. She wasn’t sure she was ready for more of him, “Um… I’m a little sore-“

“Yeah? Did I go too hard for you last night?” Harry continued pushing his cock into her cheeks. They were both naked so the sensation of his warm, big, prick pushing into her plump flesh was quite salacious.

“I actually loved it. Never thought I’d like anything like that…”

“Mmm… loved it you say? And you’re sure you’re too sore for one more? I can go in gently and make you come again. One more for the road?” He kissed her neck as he continued humping her. His cock was already leaking he was so hard for her, so needy for her pussy again.

Harry was quite convincing. And she was already getting turned on by the way he was pressing into her and kissing her neck. And he wanted her again?

“Well, if you can be gentle then I think I’d like that.”

Harry smiled into her neck and massaged her breast in gratitude before bringing his hand down to her hip and pulling at her so he could see her pussy lips peeking out between the back of her thighs when he backed up just a bit and stroked his cock through her soft labia.

“You’re already wet for me, baby. So needy for Daddy’s cock even when she’s sore. Gonna take good care of you okay?”

Pressing his tip to her entrance he groaned when he realized he needed a condom. He felt like soon enough, if she wanted to stick around, they’d forgo the safety measure. He wanted so badly to fuck her raw but it was too soon, “Fuck. I need to grab a condom. Stay right here.”

Harry was back behind her in only a handful of moments. She’d already begun rubbing her clit in preparation for him. She wanted to make sure she was fully aroused and ready for his wide cock.

“Good girl. Keep rubbing yourself like that. See how juicy you are already? Perfect…” he nearly purred as he pushed into her tight muscle. It was especially taut as he snapped forward and his wide crown finally popped into her. Once he had the swollen tip inside of her he pushed in until he was met with a bit of resistance. She was extra sensitive and snug but the sensation was incredible as her soft walls squeezed around him, the deeper he got the tighter it felt.

He was slow and gentle just like he said he’d be. He massaged her tit and kissed her neck and her jaw as he slowly rolled his hips into her.

“S’like fucking an angel. Your pussy is so goddamn perfect, baby. M’obessessed. Your body,” he pinched her nipple, “your tits, your lips,” each part he commented on he fucked inward with a slightly harder push, just to make his point as he lowered his hand down the curve of her waist to her hip, “your fine ass. All so perfect.”

Y/n breathed his words in as his cock drove into her deep, filling her so fully and perfectly. Those things had never been said to her before. Not in that way. She slipped her fingers back and forth over her clit and the tips of her fingers were grazing his cock as he fucked into her slowly, deeply. Everything was wet and perfect. He was right. This did feel perfect. Felt better than any other fucking ever. Harry was so good in bed. He hit all her spots (mentally and physically).

“I need it. Harry, I need it so bad,” she surprised herself as she moaned the words.

But suddenly Harry stopped, pushing his cock as deep as it could get and he grabbed her chin and turned her head so she could see him from her peripheral, “Call me Daddy when I’m fucking you. Be a good girl and I’ll let you come again.”

Why did she find that so hot? So fucking appealing? She had no idea. It was like something had been turned on inside of her that she had no clue was lying there beneath the surface. Maybe it was just Harry. But whatever it was she’d be fantasizing about this and needing this dominance in bed from any future partners.

“Sorry. Yes, Daddy. I’ll be a good girl.”

Harry groaned and released her chin and began to pump into her plump folds and she sped up her fingers as he spoke into her ear, “Say it again. Say you need me.”

She swallowed and her face was boiling hot as Harry’s long cock pressed into her guts and then backed out, punching her walls apart with each plunge, “I… fuck… yesss! I need you, Daddy. Please…”

Harry choked out a groan and smacked her bottom, “God I’m gonna imagine those words coming from your mouth every night. Say it again. Louder. Come on baby…”

Her voice was shaky like her thighs as her brain began to unravel and her orgasm started to spring out from her center, “I need you, Daddy! I’m your good girl!” She moaned as loudly as possible and Harry smiled with his cock happily coated in her.

Just then a knock came to the door, “Mr. Styles?” Someone spoke from behind the wood.

“Fuck,” Harry spoke lowly. He never stopped rolling his hips into hers as he shouted, “I’m busy!”

“Sorry to bother you. But we’ve been trying to call you all morning. We have a package delivery for you from the Secrist Gallery. Shall we just leave it out here?”

Everything paused. Y/n craned her neck to look at Harry and when their eyes met she saw his dark pupils and wet pink lips, messy hair. He was an angel, grinning at her, “Just leave it out there. I’ll be out soon.”

“Secrist Gallery? Did you-“

Harry pushed his mouth to hers and began to thrust again, speaking against her lips, “Keep rubbing that pussy for Daddy. It’s time to come. Need you to come.”

Her half-melted brain complied and as Harry increased his pace their bodies began to slap together, wet noises coming from them on each stroke. Harry kept his tongue in her mouth and his fingers pinching her nipple as they writhed together.

She felt him slicing into her, his cock suddenly harder than steel inside of her and her fingers slippery over her clit. He was shaking, holding back his release and his kisses became sloppy, wet, wide-open-mouthed, tongue all over her lips and inside of her mouth.

She inhaled sharply when the dam broke. She moaned into his mouth and he moaned into hers as they both came at the same time, she pushed against him to get him deeper inside and he stuffed himself into the hilt, his balls thick and bursting tucked up against her as he spilled into his condom. Her vision went dark and her ears began to ring as Harry continued to kiss her, lick her, suck the life out of her.

It was insane how hard she came. She had never had a man so effortlessly work her up and make her come like Harry had. Wave after wave of electricity zipped through her body as she pulsed and sucked his cock in, gripping around him.

Eventually, they stopped moving and began to breathe again. Heavy pants and soft coos fell from their lips. The afterglow was incredible. Harry hadn’t felt it like that before. And he hated that he had to leave. That he needed to send her off and go away to his next destination.

When her brain began to fit itself back together inside of her skull she turned again to look at him as he slid out, “Did you buy a painting? Of mine?”

Harry rolled onto his back and smirked at her, “I did.”

She laughed and smacked his chest, “Which one? Why didn’t you say anything? How did you do it? I didn’t see you at the gallery.”

Harry sat up and pulled at Y/n’s arm, needing her closer, “I had one of my assistants go and take a photo of each one. I picked the one I liked the most. You named the piece The Lonely Dark. Love it. I loved a lot of them. But figured for now just one will do since I’ve got to have it shipped to LA.

The Lonely Dark. A sort of nod to her husband. What had been and the way she felt at night when she was alone with no one. She swallowed and Harry kissed her cheek, “Is it okay that I bought one? Is that weird?”

Y/n laughed and shook her head, “No. I’m flattered that Harry Styles wanted to buy a painting of mine. I’m gonna tell everyone that you own one of my pieces now.”

“Yeah? Maybe I’ll invite you to my house in LA when I get back to the States after the next leg of my tour so you can see where I’ve hung it.”

She pushed at him in jest, “Yeah right. Don’t tease. You don’t actually want me at your private home.”

Harry grabbed her hand and brought it up to his chest with a frown on his face, “Why wouldn’t I?”

Shaking her head she blinked her eyes, “Because. You’re Harry Styles. I’m some girl from the Midwest who paints. I’m just saying, don’t say things like that when you don’t mean it.”

“But I meant it. I really like you, Y/n. I want to see you again.”

It was unexpected. She didn’t imagine he’d actually be inviting her to his home or telling her he wanted to see her again. But she was so stunned by his admission that she couldn’t think of anything to say except, “Well then you’re gonna need to give me your number.”

Chapter 2

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itstheghostofmypast · 6 months ago

Text

Focus

Idol Wooyoung x (F)Reader

Summary: It amazed him how he ended up with a brat, one that had the attention span of a toddler but the love as warm as the sun.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.9K

Est. Read Time: 15 min

Warnings: None

Rating: SFW

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Banner: @cafekitsune

A/N: Basically inspired by @edenesth being my platonic Woo <3- the urge to procrastinate was real strong last night.

“Put it away.”

Her ears picked up the irritated voice, turning her head she glanced at the man sitting on her bed, glasses on top of his head, chin in palm as he scrolled on his phone. Must’ve been talking to himself, turning back around she went back to doing what she was doing before she was rudely interrupted, eying the shoes, maybe she could get the red ones, they’d match the dress he got her recently, oh no, but then she’d limit the things she could wear them with, oh if she gets a black pair then- “HEY!”

“Don’t you have a final exam tomorrow???”

When did he come all the way here? He was standing right next to her, a hand on his hip, the other holding her phone above her head as he looked at the screen, “Seriously? Are we shopping right now?”

“What~” she whined, trying to reach for her phone but he pulled away, frowning at her before shoving the device in his pocket, “Woo, it's retail therapy!”

“No, it’s a distraction.” He huffed before walking over to her bed, “You told me to make sure you study, and I’ll do exactly that,” he flopped down on the comfortable space, sighing at the familiar scent engulfing his senses, calming him down, who knew his girlfriend had the same attention span as his baby brother, no wonder the two got along so well. Sure, on any other day, he would have been thrilled to see that, but not tonight, no, he had to follow the strict boyfriend code, the one where the guy makes sure his baby girl isn’t distracted and focuses on cramming for her final exam.

Craning her neck back, she pouted at him, only to receive an eye-roll causing her to huff, date an idol they said, it’ll be fun they said- if ‘they’ only knew how this idol who was forcing her to study instead of ‘lollygagging’ around, they’d know how dating an idol is NOT fun at all! With a huff she turned back around, wearing her headphones as she began to write once more. Truth be told she was glad he had taken her phone from her; she knew she would get distracted way too easily, especially when she was stressed and considering right now, she felt like the world was about to explode; even though retail therapy would have helped her calm down, it would have also wasted a great amount of time, the time she could have spent reading and making notes.

He glanced at her going back to work, smiling to himself before looking back at the messages in his group chat, the guys had decided to go out tonight, to eat, and he had too- that is until she had texted him last minute, asking him if he could come cover. He had been avoiding her for a week now, not because he didn’t like her, no, but because he knew she’d be easily distracted by him and would choose to spend time with him rather than studying- even though he knew his girl loved those A’s, she was just silly like that, wanting to conquer the world but also getting distracted by a butterfly. So, when he had received the text, “Hey…can you come over and make sure I study?” He had turned to San and shown him the text, earning a snort from the taller man, who shrugged in response but gave him an assuring pat on the shoulder- good, that means no one would have issues with him suddenly bailing on them.

There was a moment of somewhat irritancy on his drive here, he was somewhat disappointed he was unable to relax with his friends after months of promotion, on the other hand, he was also disappointed in himself for even thinking of choosing downtime over helping out his lover. That irritancy had morphed into guilt when she had opened the door for him, instantly wrapping her arms around him as she hugged him close, thanking him for coming here on such short notice, glad that she could always count on him to be there for her. The guilt turned into a form of penitence when he saw the scattered books, papers, numerous highlighters and pens, along with several mugs (what he assumed was coffee) crammed all over her desk, amid the chaos was her laptop, trying to breathe in the mess. He had sat her down on her chair.

He told her to wait, proceeding to pick up the mugs, running to the kitchen to place them in the sink, running back to sorting the papers and books for her, in order of ‘what do you need next’, stacking the pens and highlighters neatly in a box and removing any other clutter that he could find, before pushing her swivel chair closer to the desk. This act had helped his guilt subside, though when he met her loving gaze, it had completely vanished, especially when she had reached up to press her lips against his cheek, mumbling, “I’m so lucky to have you in my life, Youngie~”

He truly felt like he was fortunate to have her in his life- at least that was what he had felt like two hours ago, with two hours gone she was left with three easy topics, ones she had done a million times, but did that mean that was enough of an excuse for her to get distracted? No. He had come to ensure she covered all topics regardless of their difficulty levels, and like a good, dutiful boyfriend he was going to do- “HEY! ARE YOU SERIOUS!?” He screeched, tossing his phone on the bed as he jumped off it, running to her as she fumbled with the laptop, closing the tab and blabbering out apologies.

“I cannot believe you!” exasperating he slammed his hand on the desk causing her to flinch, as he knelt to look at her, though she only averted her gaze as he huffed, “What’s the excuse this time, huh?”

“I uh…wanted to watch your scenes in the MV.”

“That’s it.” With that he marched out of the room, leaving her confused- oh shit, was he mad at her? She did call him here even though he had plans for the night, great, good-going girl, make sure your boyfriend dumps you tonight, the same boyfriend who took time out of his busy idol life, who chose to sacrifice his recreational time to babysit you because you have some form of attention deficit. Make sure you lose that one man who’s always been there for you-

“Now, if I see you do ANYTHING ELSE, I’ll take away all your devices for a week!” he dictated, entering the room and causing her train of inner turmoil to halt- is that a chair?

Dragging the chair next to hers he sat down and, turning to face her as she moved back a bit, only for him to place his hand on top of her head and gently turn it to the laptop, “I better not see you look away even for a second, you got me?” with that he crossed his arms over his chest and continued to stare at her, like a mama hen watching her chicks- god, this was giving preschool all over again.

“Are you really going to be staring at me the entire time I read?”

“Yes.”

“That’s creepy.”

“No, you wanting to watch me in an MV, rather than turning around to see me on your bed is creepy.”

“You looked cute!”

“GET TO WORK, SLACKER!”

“YES SIR!”

To be honest, it was odd how he was staring at her so intently, but it was also endearing, she felt so loved, so pampered, so spoiled- oh if Hongjoong were to find out about how Wooyoung often got a taste of his own antics, through his loving, adorable girlfriend, he’d probably pay her to do worse. Nonetheless, she had soon gotten used to him burning holes at the side of her head, she hadn’t even realized when he had moved closer, his fingers brushing against her skin causing her to jerk, eying him as she earned a sheepish apology, “Sorry…was trying to keep your hair out of your face.” See, it was little things like these that made her heart swell with joy and admiration, little details that he’d note and little acts of kindness that would spark joys of glee within her.

He was a pervert, God, he was such a pervert. This had all started off to annoy her, but the more he watched her work, the more difficult it became for him, he never knew he was this messed up in the head, he found it hot, he found it extremely hot, to have her so focused on something that was not him, so focused on finishing her work, so focused on making him proud- the thought of this doing it because he asked her to was such a turn on- Wooyoung you need help.

Almost an hour later of watching her, playing with her pens and rearranging her notes, his phone rang and he sprang in joy, though he cleared his throat when she side-eyed him (of course he was glad someone was calling him, he'd been sitting here bored to death for an hour, only because he loved her endlessly), leaning closer he smacked a wet kiss against her warm, soft cheek, ignoring her when she slightly shoved him away.

"I'll be back in a second, be a good girl and don't get distracted."

A faint "I'm always a good girl", caught his ear as he walked out of the room, picking up the call, starting with an "I hate school" only to receive an earful from Hongjoong for 'distracting his own girlfriend' - the NERVE of this man! How dare he accuse him of such blasphemy! He was a good boy, and an even better boyfriend- so much so that he had spent almost 40 minutes arguing with him. Only realised how long it had taken when he ended the call.

Jogging back to the room he turned the corner and gasped- AGAIN!? What- was she sleeping? With a huff he walked over to her, ready to wake her up, hand pausing right above her shoulder when he realised that everything was neatly packed- oh, she had finished. Her laptop was turned off, her notes were stacked aside, her pens were in the case and all the checkpoints on her neon-bright sticky notes were marked off- his girl really did make him proud.

"Hey...let's get you to bed, yeah?" He felt her stir in her sleep, smiling when she refused to move, only helping him when he picked her up, her arms wrapping around his neck even though she was 'asleep'. What a brat! He looked down only to find her snuggling closer to him, she didn't pull away when he laid her down- only grabbed his shirt and tugged him closer as he chuckled, adjusting himself closer to her, he pulled the covers, feeling her move closer to him, as he placed his chin on top of her head, arms wrapping around her frame, almost asleep until he heard her mumble something against him.

"Hmm? Did you say something?"

There was silence for a moment before he heard a muffled sound, her warm breath tickling his neck as she mumbled,

"Gotta work Gotta make that money, make purse-"

A cackle broke past his lips as he squeezed her closer, earning a giggle from her, as he began singing along to her mumbling, glad that if he had to end up with someone, it was a lovable, adorable brat like him;

"Got a fur coat, so I make it purr Give 'em whiplash when they see me earn"

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @the-kpop-simp @mlysalt @spooo00oky @slaayysis

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jrswritings · 2 months ago

Text

Tingles and Giggles - Chapter Sixteen -Tyler Owens x Reader -

Get caught up with the Chapters 1-15 on the Masterlist! :)

Chapter Sixteen - If You Get Hurt, You Get Hurt

With the week you had, you couldn’t help but let the floodgates open to start crying. It had been quite some time since you last let yourself cry, normally it wouldn’t be in such a public space, but what Kate said was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Through your tear-filled eyes, you rushed out the side door of the laundromat and to the other Storm Riders F-150 that usually stayed out of the storm. The keys were always in it and Tyler had your keys.

“(Y/n), wait!” You heard Tyler call after you, but you didn’t want him to see you cry especially this early in whatever situation-ship you two had.

You opened the door and jumped in, grabbing the keys from under the driver-side visor and shoving them into the ignition. You turned the engine over, putting the truck into drive, and speeding right past Tyler.

Even after all the late nights reassuring yourself you were lovable and you were not worthless didn’t change the fact of how hard Kate’s words resonated inside you. Over your years of dealing with trauma, you learned it was better to keep things to yourself as it was always used against you in some way or another.

Talking to your parents was always a suicide mission as it would turn into some kind of lecture that never made you feel better. When you would reach out to close friends, it would turn into a conversation about them and how their lives are so horrible.

Therapy never did anything as you could never open up to a random stranger asking deep, life-altering questions. No matter how much you drank, you would remain as silent as the dead.

In the end, you decided that speeding down back roads while blaring music or laying in the truck bed out in a field was your choice of poison.

After getting out of the city limits, you pulled into a random field and parked the truck. You turned the radio on, ‘Everything She Ain’t’ by Hailey Whitters just starting to roll out the speakers. You turned the volume as loud as it could go before the speakers would blow.

As you leaned your seat back slightly, you felt your thigh vibrate rapidly, you reached behind you and pulled your phone out of your pocket.

Tyler Owens was the only thing it read. You sent him to voicemail and then shut your phone off. You wanted to be alone, without any interruptions.

“She ain’t a peach you oughta be picking, she ain’t the cup of tea you oughta be sipping,” Hailey sang over the radio, “She treats you like you’re broke like you need fixing, you ain’t getting nothing back for all that you’re giving.”

“And if you’re good with who you’re kissing, c’est la vie, but I can show you what you’re missing, yeah boy, I can be,” you sang while starting to cry, “The whiskey in your soda, the lime to your Corona.”

You couldn’t keep it in any longer as you started to sob, snot running over your upper lip making you wipe it with your sleeve.

“God, what is wrong with me?” You cried, putting your hand over your mouth and trying to catch your breath, “I’m a grown adult and sobbing over what someone said. How pathetic.”

After what felt like hours, you were finally calming down and not completely a mess. You had sat your seat up and used a whole roll of paper towels to blow your nose. It amazed you how much snot the human body could produce, and how much was in the paper towels filling the passenger seat and floor. You glanced in the rearview mirror to be met with bloodshot eyes, tear-stained cheeks, and a red nose that you had wiped raw.

“You need to pull yourself together, (Y/n),” you said while making eye contact in the small mirror, “You need to go finish your laundry and then get ready to go to Texas.”

“Laundry is already done, little lady,” Tyler said from the open window on the truck, causing you to scream.

“What the actual hell, Tyler?!” You shouted at him, tossing the empty paper towel roll at him.

“I just walked up here, okay?” He said, “I had to walk a half mile so you didn’t know I was here and take off again like a bat out of hell.”

“It’s what happens when I’m going through stuff,” you said, starting to gather up all the wadded and snot-filled paper towels.

“You know you can turn to me, babe,” he said softly, leaning on the door, “If you want this to work, we have to communicate.”

“Communication has done nothing but hurt me,” you snapped, “No matter who I talk to, I never feel any better.”

“Well, you haven’t tried with me,” he sighed, taking his ball cap off and hanging it on the mirror.

“It might be quite some time before I do that,” you said, wiping your cheeks of what wetness was left.

“And I’ll be there every step of the way,” he said, looking up at you to make eye contact. His gaze made a wave of tranquility wash over you, making your jaw unclench and shoulders relax even though you didn’t know you were doing either.

“Get in so I can drive you to your damn truck,” you mumbled, turning the key and having the truck come to life.

“Don’t mind if I do,” he said with a smile coming to his face, “It may have only been a half mile, but with this heat, it felt like a marathon.”

You sighed and watched him walk around the front of the truck while putting his hat on backward, then opening the door and sliding in beside you.

“How the hell did you find me?” You asked, looking over at him.

“Did you forget that the truck has GPS on it?” He asked, buckling up and looking at you.

“Apparently,” you groaned, “Which one spilled the beans?”

“Asher,” he said, “You know he will give up literally anything for a Milky Way bar?”

“Yeah, I do,” you chuckled softly, “I’ve got quite a bit of information from him doing that.”

“It’s pretty handy,” he said, placing his hand on your thigh.

“Sometimes,” you sighed, “Other times he can share too much.”

Tyler laughed, “I believe it, I couldn’t get the dude to shut up.”

“In other events,” you stated, wanting to talk about anything but the team, “When are we leaving for your aunts?”

“Do you want to help out with chores or not?” He asked, pulling his phone out.

“Sure,” you said, “It’s been a while since I’ve done anything farm-related.”

“Then we’ll take off around three in the morning to get there by 5:30 to six. She’s usually out the door after breakfast at seven,” he said, starting to type on his phone.

“That’s fine with me, as long as you drive so I can sleep. This morning’s events

wore me out,” you said, yawning and glancing at the clock, “And it’s only three in the afternoon.”

“I planned on it, sweetheart,” he said, looking over at you with a smile.

“Probably should let your aunt know that we’re leaving in the early morning to help her with chores,” you said, pulling up next to Tyler’s truck.

“I will on our way back to town,” he said, opening the passenger door and then leaning over to you.

“Everything will be okay, princess,” he said softly, “You have nothing to worry about, and I’ll show that to you on our trip.”

“Yeah,” you huffed, gripping the steering wheel tighter while he placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

“I separated our clothes so you’ll still have to fold them how you like,” he said, sliding out of the truck, “Cute underwear by the way.”

With that, he shut the door and hopped into his. You were left horrified. The last thing you wanted someone to see was your underwear, especially since he wasn’t even your boyfriend yet. At least they were clean.

On your ten-minute drive back to Prairie Winds, you turned the radio up and hummed along to ‘Watermelon Moonshine’ by Lainey Wilson.

“You just have to trust him, (Y/n),” you said to yourself, “If you get hurt, you get hurt. At least it was a fun ride.”

You sighed to yourself. Your heart and your brain were at war with each other for what you felt in your heart was right but in your mind was rushing things. It’s not every day you actively pursue a relationship with someone you’ve known briefly and mainly in passing for a few years. Then possibly sharing a bed with him made your head scream but your heart melt.

Want more? Here's Chapter Seventeen!

Taglist: @fanboyswhore9 @faith719 @ummmeg @nerdgirljen @winterassassin1804 @smoothdogsgirl

#glen powell #glen powell x reader #twisters #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x y/n #glen powell x you #twisters x reader #tyler owens fanfiction #tyler owens twisters #twisters 2024 #twisters fanfic #tornado wrangler

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samandcolbyownme · 7 months ago

Note

Make up sex make up sex make up sex Make up sex make up sex make up sex Make up sex make up sex make up sex Make up sex make up sex make up sex Make up sex make up sex make up sex Make up sex make up sex make up sex Make up sex make up sex make up sex 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Summary: A year into reader’s relationship with Johnnie, reader realizes just how busy Johnnie can get with what he does for work, and just how easily he can push reader off.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, angsty, arguing between reader and Johnnie, fighting for love/relationship, unprotected makeup sex, kissing, hair pulling, slight choking, oral (both rev), creampie, filth with a dash of fluff? Enjoy!

Word count: 2.5k | not edited

Also, this song is sooo good. It’s one of my favorite songs in general, so please I beg of you to listen to this before or during your read.

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

“Therapy is tiring.” You joke and, “I’ve tried it before and it just felt like I was being judged, you know?”

You glance down at Katrina, who’s in the screen of your phone on FaceTime. She nods, “Right, but so is hiding how you feel. I’ll have to give you the number for mine. She is phenomenal.”

You nod, pacing back and forth as you stare out the window, “I’ve brought it up to him a few times already, Kat. I just..”

You run your hands over your arms, wrapping them tightly around your body, “Maybe we aren’t meant to last?”

“Don’t say that, y/n. Johnnie loves you, he just probably isn’t used to having someone like you around.”

“You mean being the first girlfriend he’s had in a while?” You laugh slightly, “Jake always picks on him about it.”

“Then yeah.” Kat laughs, “I would just give it one more try and if it doesn’t get better..” she trails off, “You know I have an extra bedroom open, right?”

You smile, glancing at her in the phone, “You remind me every time I talk to you about this.”

She shrugs, “Just letting you know you have a good plan b in case things.. go.. you know.”

It’s silent for a few seconds, “Just remember that there’s no better vengeance than learning to enjoy things again.”

“I just want him go get the message, like. No one is fucking shatter resistant. A person can only take so much shit.”

You hear the front door open and you sigh, “Johnnie’s here. Gotta go.”

“Good luck. Love you bye!”

“Love you bye.”

You turn around and walks out of the bedroom, making your way down the steps of his shared house with Jake.

He glances up at you and smiles slightly, “Hey babe.”

You walk over to him, planting a kiss on his lips, “Hey.” You go to walk away but he grabs your wrist, pulling you back into him, “Whoa. What’s wrong?”

You laugh slightly, mainly at the fact that this is the first time he’s noticed something was wrong in days, “Nothing, why do you-“

“You look like you’ve been crying.”

You shrug, “I’m fine.”

“No, talk to me.” Johnnie pushes and you shake your head, taking a step back, “Johnnie.” You whine quietly and he reaches out to grab your hips, “Baby.”

You snap, the second his hands touch your hips, “Fuck, Johnnie.” You take a deep breath, letting out a loud sigh right before the words spill from your lips.

“I’ve been like this for days, Johnnie. Upset, tired, angry.” You look at him, “Days, and now, when you get home and I’m assuming in the mood to fuck, you want to actually take more than a fucking second to look at me and think hmm, okay something wrong.”

“Jesus Christ.” Johnnie breathes out, “Where the fuck is this coming from? You do know that what I do for work causes me to be busy, right? I mean.” He shakes his head, “I’m pretty sure you knew that coming into this relationship.”

You keep your stare on him, “I knew that part of it, Johnnie. I did. I just didn’t know that you getting a girlfriend with this work meant that it’s okay to just push her away.”

“That’s not-“

“if it’s not what you do then please tell me.” You motion towards him and he takes a deep breath, shaking his head.

“Fucking Christ, Johnnie. Leave me something, give me something.”

“What do you want, y/n?” Johnnie looks at you and you look at him, actually kind of shocked that he would even ask that, and right as you opened your mouth to say something, he cuts you off, “Sorry, that- stupid fucking question.”

You raise your brows, “You push me, and you pull me around, figuratively speaking. And I let you do it because I don’t want to leave.”

“I mean fuck Johnnie. I feel like I’m a speaker that is about to blow because it can’t handle much more bass, my head feels like it’s going to explode but I’m still here, because I love you, and and we’re good, we’re good.”

He looks at you and your eyes meet his, “I fucking love you, and I just.. I’m fucking starving for attention Johnnie. Your attention.”

You feel your throat burn, “I didn’t ever really think that it.. it was too much to ask, but honestly, we need to work on this or you let me out be-“

Johnnie starts talking, and he sounds mad, “You want to leave?”

You sigh, feeling exhausted with repeating yourself, “No, Joh-“ you groan, “I literally just said that I don’t and said why.”

You run a hand through your hair, fighting back the tears harder, “Fuck. Okay.” You take a deep breath and look down, you can’t hold back the tears when you think of the next thing you wanted to bring to his attention.

“I just.. for the last few weeks, I feel like I’ve been balancing on a razor blade around you. I’m supposed to be here to help you relax after a long stressful day. Instead, I just feel like I add to it.”

He shakes his head, “No, baby.”

You keep your gaze on the floor, taking in a quiet breath as you look up and wipe your face, “We’ve been together a year, Johnnie.”

You drop your hands, the slap echoing through the room and he just stares at you, “Our anniversary was yesterday, I waited to see if you’d remember, I even set a reminder in your phone a few days ago.”

You let out a stressed laugh, “I just.. we were doing so good and then it’s like I became one of your friends, your roommate who you occasionally sleep with.”

Tears fall down your cheeks, “How the fuck does that happen, Johnnie?”

At that moment, Jake walks through the door with Tara and you turn away. Johnnie walks up to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, “All good guys, we’re just-“

Johnnie walks you to the bedroom and you can tell just from that conversation that Jake and Tara were definitely concerned.

Johnnie shuts the door, and you turn to him, “Why am I here if that’s all we’re going to do? I’m just sitting here waiting for the start of things that I want with you, this happily ever after, with you.”

He stands there, “Well get that, I just..”

“How? Most of the time it just seems choking on your words and swallowing them is just a fast and easy way for you to not actually talk to me. You’re supposed to be my emergency contact, Johnnie. Someone I know will be there for me no matter what. Fuck, the last few nights, I’ve ended up passing out on the couch while you slept in the bed. I just can’t sleep anymore knowing that I don’t know where the hell I stand in your life anymore.”

“I love you.” He steps closer, “Please, don’t judge me for what I’m about to say.”

You look at him confused, “Never.”

He walks you over to the bed, “I forget that I have a girlfriend sometimes.”

You try not to laugh, “Um, okay.” You tilt your head, closing your eyes.

“I’m serious.. like you seen how Jake picked on me. I really haven’t had anyone in my life with the girlfriend label, and I just.. it feels so new to me.”

“So you need me to train you.” You smirk, looking over at him and he rolls his eyes, “I’m not a dog, babe.”

You reach over, ruffling his hair.

He really does have good sex appeal, because now that your villain has settled, all you can think about it making up this argument to him with sex, proving just how much you love him.

Johnnie’s hand slides to your neck, pulling you in for a kiss.

Or the other way around.

“I’m so sorry I forgot our anniversary.” He kisses you, continuing to speak In between kisses, “I’m sorry.. that I.. haven’t.. been here.”

He pushes you back onto the bed, moving to straddle your thighs. His hands push your shirt up, gripping your bare waist.

He stares down at you, your hands move to rest on his forearms.

“I’m sorry, I have been shitty. I had a bad day and you caught me at a bad time.” He leans down, lips brushing against yours, “Please don’t leave.” His voice is low, almost a whimper, likes he’s begging.

Your hands slide to his neck, “I’m not going anywhere, baby.”

The space closes between you and the grip on your hips tighten, “You’re a fucking angel.” He lifts his head, “My angel.”

You smile, biting your lip as he moves to push his legs in between yours. You move them, wrapping them around his waist.

He grinds his hard bulge against your clothed pussy, earning a surprise moan from you,

He kisses down your neck, “Love those pretty sounds.”

He bites down on your neck, earning more of the sounds he wants to hear, “Mine.” He bites down in a different spot, groaning as he grinds against you, “All mine.”

“All yours.” You agree, moving a hand up to tug at the hair at the nape of his neck, “Johnnie, please.” You whimper, “I need you.”

“You have me. All of me.” He kisses up to your lips, “You can always count on me. From here on out, I promise.”

His lips crash onto yours as his hands slide up your shirt, keading and groping at your bare tits, “So perfect.” He pauses, squeezing them slightly rough which gets you to moan out as your back lifts up from the bed, “F-Fuck.”

He sits up, moving to pull the tight, black tee from his body. You bite down on your lip as your eyes scan over his tattoo covered body.

You could never get enough of him.

You hands reach up and you work at undoing his belt, then the button on his jeans then finally, his zipper.

He pushes them down while you work on undressing yourself.

You toss your shirt to the floor and look up at him as you lay back down. His brushes hair from his eyes and you watch as they scan over your face.

He uses his teeth to play with his lip rings while his hand slides up your spread thigh. Your breath hitches when he stops just on the outer edge of your pussy.

You wiggle your hips and a smirk plays with his lips before he drags the tip of his pointer finger up and down your soaked folds.

A gasp escapes your lips and your groan, “More, baby. Please.”

You grip the sheets, clenching around his finger as he slides it in, “Yesyesyes.”

Johnnie leans down, moving to lay beside you. He nudges his nose against your cheek, “after this.. we can do anything you want.”

You nod, glancing down at his finger slowly sliding in and out of your pussy, “Johnnie.” You whine, “Stop teasing.”

He instantly starts to slip in his middle finger and you throw your head back, moaning out as you squeeze your walls around them.

“I’m so sorry. I’m going to make it up to you.” He leans in, kissing your neck as the speed in the thrusts of his fingers picks up, “I’ll do anything you want.”

You reach over, hand wrapping around his cock, “Let me use my mouth on you.”

Johnnie bucks his hips slightly into your hand and he pulls his fingers out before rolling onto his back. He motions for you to come to him and when you go to bend down towards his cock he stops you.

“No, no. I’m making you feel good, too.” He reaches over, laying a hand in your thigh, “Sit on my face and lean that way.”

He points out from him and you catch on, facing away from him before swinging your leg over his head.

He wastes no time with grabbing your hips and pulling your down.

You let out a surprised moan, jumping slightly when you feel his tongue lap over your folds.

You lean down, moaning out as you lay the tip of his cock on your tongue. His hips buck and the grip on your hips tightens as he groans against you.

You take half of him in your mouth, swirling hour tongue as you bob your head.

Johnnie’s head slams onto the mattress away from you, hips bucking toward as he groans, “F-fuck..”. He digs his fingertips into your skin harder, “just like that, baby.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you take him all the way in, gagging around him as his hips buck, “Shit, shit.” Johnnie lets out a groan, “F-fuck. Okay.”

He taps your hips and you lift your head, breathing heavy as you move to sit next to him.

He pulls you down, tongue slipping into your mouth as his lips press to yours. You moan at the taste of yourself on his lips, pulling him towards you.

He moves back to in between your legs and it wasn’t long ago all before his cock was slipping into your soaked cunt.

His head falls and his lips are against your neck, “Feels so fuckin’ good.” He groans lowly as he starts to thrust.

Your legs tighten around his waist and your chest presses against his, “H-harder please.” You turn your head, lips searching for his as he obeys your request.

His thrusts growing harsher, hips slamming into yours, earning whines and moans from you.

“M’so sorry, baby.” He mumbles against your lips, “I love you.” He groans, a hand coming up to gently lay on your neck.

“I love you.” You lay a hand on his, urging him squeeze harder.

He obliges, squeezing your neck which earns a squeak from you as your eyes roll closed.

Johnnie brings you closer to orgasm with his words, slowing his thrusts down as he whispers sweet and dirty things in your ear, “I love you so fucking much.”

“You’re so tight, fuck.”

“Sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re so fucking perfect.”

The band snaps. You cling to him, moans pour from your lips as he releases his grip and moves it down to rub rough circles on your clit, “There ya go, baby. Just like that.”

You roll your hips into his thrusts, whining out as he guides you through your high, “Cum in me.” You whimper out, pressing your lips to his in a sloppy manor, “Please, Johnnie.”

“F-fuck, fuck.” He grips your hips tight and you feel his cock twitch. You bite down on his lower lip and moan out, “Fill my pussy.”

Within seconds, he’s again, obliging to your request, which he will continue to do even after you’re done.

You moan, kissing him as you feel him thrust into you, pushing his cum as deep into you as it will go.

He brings his hand up, thumb brushing over your cheek, “I really am sorry, y/n.”

You peck his lips a few times gently, “It’s okay.” You whisper, biting down on your lip as he pulls out. You sit up, slowly moving to stand up.

As soon as you rise to your feet, Johnnie’s arms are around your waist and his voice is low, “You’re literally the best person I have in my life and I just want you to know that you are my emergency contact.”

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

Thank you so much for reading! As always, please let me know what you thought. I love you all so so so much! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

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pedrospatch · 1 year ago

Text

lost on you l a safe haven drabble

series masterlist

summary: You’re missing Joel and a certain mare seems to be picking up on your sadness—or at least that’s what you think is happening when there’s a sudden change in her behavior. Why else would Stella be acting so strange around you?

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. angst, horses, and a lil more angst. reader’s pregnancy is lightly being implied, but it has not been explicitly stated yet, only hinted at. no Joel, he is only mentioned in this one. Dina makes an appearance, i threw in some comedic moments to try and balance out the angst. ends with a horsey hug.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: so this is meant to be as a bit of a filler fic before chapter 9 is posted and shit hits the fan. i knew i wanted to do a short drabble that touches on how reader is doing after the confrontation she had with Joel. i also asked people to send in short prompts for the series to do some no pressure writing exercises, and this particular prompt that was sent in was just incredible and i decided to incorporate it. It makes me nervous to post a fic with no Joel in it, but my heart wanted to write it so fuck it, I just wrote it. chapter 9 is almost done and will be posted soon. @eyesneverbeensoblue i hope it’s okay to tag you in this and tell you thank you so much for the idea!

Lately, I’m getting lost on you

I tore your world apart like it was nothing new

every day I’m a slave to the heartache…

Summer slowly, but surely comes to an end.

The days are long, but the nights without Joel?

They’re even longer, at least, that’s how it feels.

You miss him. Oh God, how you fucking miss Joel Miller.

He’s all you can ever think about.

Every second of every minute of every single day.

You miss Joel so much that it physically hurts. Every part of you just aches for him. Aches.

Your insides feel like they’re on fire, and you can't put it out.

The heartache is agonizing, almost unbearable—it’s unlike anything you have ever felt before.

In front of others, you hold it together pretty well. But when you’re alone, behind closed doors?

That’s when you fall apart. Crumble into pieces.

Losing Joel is something you will never heal from. Never.

Traces of himself he’d left behind—would you ever be able to wipe yourself clean of them? Of him? Or would you have to spend the rest of your damn life trying to get over the man who fucking adored the hell out of you and who loved you so unconditionally?

“He misses you, you know,” Ellie says, quietly. She stands beside you and diligently runs a hard, bristled hand brush along Jasper’s side to clear his golden coat of dirt and debris. The palomino is just one of several horses that needed tending to after that morning’s patrol shift. Realizing you’re too busy jotting down notes in Jasper’s handwritten file you keep for him—you kept a file for every single horse in the commune—Ellie clears her throat and then speaks again, louder this time. “He misses you.”

You wince and stop mid scribble.

“Ellie—” you trail off, your throat going dry.

Even though you’d asked her about a hundred and one times not to talk about Joel, Ellie was hellbent on bringing him up to you as often as she could. At first, it seemed innocent enough. She stuck to just letting you know how his recovery was going.

“His shoulder’s healing really well.”

“Donna came over to help with physical therapy.”

“He’ll be back on patrol in a couple of weeks.”

So you’d given her a pass. Besides, you would be a liar if you said you didn’t want to know how he was healing after his injury.

However, Ellie then began to wander into more sensitive and dangerous territory.

“He asked me about you.”

“He was drinking again last night.”

“He looks so fucking miserable.”

You know why she’s doing it.

It’s not to make you feel guilty for hurting Joel.

Hell, she knows that you’re hurting just as badly. She loves you and she loves Joel—the two people Ellie cares about more than anything are suffering without each other.

You hate that she’s essentially been pulled right into the middle of this mess that you’ve created.

Ellie is collateral damage. This is all hurting her too.

“He misses you a lot,” she adds after a minute.

You exhale sharply. Her words feel like a punch to the gut and they knock the wind out of your lungs.

Finally, you look up from your clipboard, turning to her. “Ellie,” you say her name warningly. “Stop it. We’re not going to do this today. Okay?”

“I’m just saying,” she mumbles, placing a hand on Jasper’s side. “If someone was missing me, I think I would want to fucking know.”

You feel the lump steadily rising in your throat.

“Ellie, please don’t—”

“I’m here, I’m here, I’m here!”

The sound of Dina’s voice fills the horse stables.

The teenager whips herself into Jasper’s stall, skidding to a stop in front of you, sweaty and breathless, as if she had just run across the settlement.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” She apologizes, setting her bag down on the ground. Pulling a scrunchie from the back pocket of her jeans, she throws her long, black hair into a messy bun as she explains herself. “Talia asked me to help her out in the library this morning and I totally lost track of time. And then on the way over here, I bumped into Mrs. Miller as she was walking home from the market and I mean, I could not just let a pregnant lady carry all those heavy bags across town—”

“Dina, breathe, sweetheart.” You hold up a hand to stop her. “It’s okay. As long as you show up, that’s all I care about. Especially since Tommy and Maria moved Logan to patrol duty. That’s another stable hand gone, so I need all the help I can possibly get around here.” Slipping your clipboard under your arm, you glance from Dina to Ellie. The emotions from what had happened just seconds before your niece had run in are bubbling, threatening to boil over. “Listen, I have to go do a routine examination on Stella. Finish up with grooming Jasper. I have a couple of horses that are due for baths—Luna and Bandit. Then it’s feeding time. Got it?”

Dina smiles brightly. “We’ll take care of it, won’t we, El?”

Sensing your urgency to leave, Ellie gives a subtle, small nod of her head. “Yeah. We will.”

“Good. I’ll come check on you girls when I’m done with Stella.” Spinning around on the muck caked heel of your boot, you hastily leave Jasper’s stall and nearly fly all the way down the stables and into Stella’s.

You rush inside, closing the top and bottom half of the Dutch door before sagging back against the wood. You toss your clipboard aside on the floor of the stall and lift both your hands, covering your face as you choke back sobs of pure agony.

He misses you.

As you will yourself to keep yourself from falling apart, you feel a warm muzzle dig lightly into your lower stomach. Dropping your hands from your face, you glance up only to see Stella peering at you with clear and unmistakable curiosity in her big brown eyes.

“Hi there, my gorgeous girl,” you murmur softly to the pregnant mare. A tear slips out from the corner of your eye and you quickly wipe it away with the back of your hand.

Stella lowers her head and sniffs at your stomach, right where she had dug into you. Her ears prick forward and she nuzzles the same spot again.

You shoot her a strange look. You’ve never seen her exhibit this type of behavior before.

“Stella, what are you doing?” you ask, almost as if you expect her to speak and give you an answer. “Why are you being so weird?”

Stella sniffs you again, then nips at the hem of your tank top.

“Hey! Cut that out.” You can’t help but let out a watery giggle as you carefully pull the fabric out of her mouth. Realizing the strange behavior must have something to do with the mare sensing the intensity of your negative emotions, you gently place both of your hands on either side of her muzzle. Inhaling a deep breath through your nose, you slowly exhale it through your mouth before touching your forehead to hers. “I’ll be okay, girl. I’ll be okay. There’s no other choice—I have to be okay.”

An hour later, you’d finished the examination.

Stella had continued to act oddly around you, her behavior becoming more and more peculiar as time went on. You were bonded to her of course—you were bonded to just about every single horse in the commune—and so it didn’t really surprise you that the mare was so in tune with your emotions and could feel that something was off. She was extremely attentive to you as you worked, her eyes never leaving you, not even for a second.

Stella also continued to sniff you, nuzzling you in the stomach any chance she had. For as bizarre as it was, it brought you an off sense of comfort and it made you feel less alone.

“Hey auntie.” Dina opens the stall door, poking her head inside. “Can we come in?”

“Of course.”

She pushes the door open further and walks into the stall with Ellie on her heels. Both of them are almost completely soaked from head to toe.

Your eyes widen. “Um, girls, I’m pretty sure I told you to bathe the horses—not yourselves.”

Ellie lets out a small scoff. “Ha ha. Very funny.”

“Bandit wasn’t having it,” Dina chuckles. “But he’s all clean, and so is Luna. We just came in to tell you we’re going to go dry off and change our clothes. We’ll be back for feeding time.” She glances at the mare. “How’s our sweet mama-to-be doing?”

“Good. She’s as healthy as a horse.”

The teenagers roll their eyes, but laugh.

“You’re so lame, auntie.”

“Just a little equine veterinarian humor. My dad used that one on me all the time.” You grin at the memory. “Stella’s doing really well. In about seven or eight months, we’ll have our new baby.”

“Well then, I think someone deserves a little treat since she’s doing so good.” Dina reaches into the bag she has slung over her shoulder and pulls out a crisp, red apple. She walks over, holding the fruit out in the palm of her hand for the horse. “Here you go, girl.”

Stella gives the apple a sniff, then takes it from her.

Usually, she wolfs it down in just a few chomps—but what she does next surprises all three of you. Apple still between her teeth, the mare turns and pushes her muzzle into your stomach.

“Oh shit,” Ellie cackles. “No fucking way!”

“Oh my god,” Dina grins. “Is she—she’s giving it to you?”

Shocked, you lift a hand and delicately take the apple from between her teeth. “Stella, you silly girl! What are you doing?” You hold it out for her. “This apple is for you, sweetheart. Here, take it.”

She tosses her head in the air.

Dina snorts into her hand. “She just told you no!”

“She wants you to have it.” Ellie shoots you a teasing look. “Come on, princess. Take a bite.”

You look at her, then down at the apple, which is covered completely in Stella’s slobber.

“Um, no thanks. I think I’ll pass,” you mutter.

“Auntie, don’t be rude,” Dina jokes. “It’s bad manners to refuse her offer.”

Rolling your eyes at your niece, you turn back to Stella and tell her, “I’ll eat it later. When it’s washed.”

“We’re starting to smell like wet horse,” Ellie makes a gagging noise as she takes a whiff of her shirt.

Dina lifts the collar of her blouse to her nose. “Oh, gross. We are starting to smell like wet horse.” She reaches out with her opposite hand, grabbing one of Ellie’s. She laces their fingers together. “Come on, let’s go change.”

You can’t help but notice the way Dina looks at Ellie—with the sweetest, most adoring little smile.

You raise an eyebrow, cocking your head slightly.

Ellie’s eyes meet yours and she blushes deeply.

If you ever had a chance to give Ellie Williams shit, this was it—but instead, you just give her a subtle wink from where you stand. Her face instantly goes from red to maroon.

“Be sure to be back in an hour for feeding time!” you call as Dina pulls her out of the stall. “I’m not feeding all these horses alone!”

“We will!”

Once the girls are gone, you turn to Stella and wrap your arms around her neck. “Thanks for trying to cheer me up today, pretty girl.”

She rests her head on your shoulder.

You feel more tears coming and hug her harder.

lyrics: Lost on You - Lewis Capaldi

#fic: a safe haven #fic: ash #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller series #queued to post

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megamindsecretlair · 1 year ago

Note

Girlll... i cant get outta my mind the idea of tyrone fkn his girl soo good and deep.. like it’s so emotionally relieving this nigga damn near givin out free therapy

her tearful eyes rolling back while she chants “where u been all my life”

They both sprunggg. and ofc tyrone’s smug ass is flattered & making it worse by hitting that spot over and over. Talking sweet but so dirty & taking over all her senses <33 oooh

A/N: Couldn't get this ask outta my mind so sorry to the ones that came before!! I guess I never updated ya'll. My bad LOL. I hadn't expected the last Tyrone fic to be the last before my vacation. I'm baack. But came back with a nasty cold. So I'm not sure when fics will resume full time, but this was too good to pass up! Thanks for trusting me with it, I hope I did it justice! I wanted it to be a drabble but just kept going. There's worst problems to have so I won't complain. Also, more apologies to the Tyrone asks. I've started Snowfall soooo Franklin Saint fics incoming! This taglist is getting so huge! Thank you! If you want to be added/removed, let me know! Make sure your ages are in your bios, I won't tag empty blogs.

Worship

Pairing: Tyrone x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Smut, PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (fem receiving), cum play, possession kink, size kink, all consensual. Praise kink. Use of n-word. FLUFF. Soft Tyrone.

Summary: *see ask* Date night turns a little steamy.

Word Count: 3,251k

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @notapradagurl7 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee

There was no special occasion. The stars aligned for you to have a rare night with nothing to do. Tyrone didn’t have anywhere to be that night. He took you out to dinner and you had so much fun getting ready for him.

You threw on the dress from the back of your closet that you had been saving. Took your time with your makeup and hair. The anticipation made it a treat. You had been out with Tyrone before, but tonight felt good.

At dinner, conversation flowed naturally. It was easy and Tyrone made you laugh more than you had before. You laughed to the point that the other dinner patrons gave you scathing looks. But you and Tyrone only had eyes for each other.

It has always been like that between you two. Your eyes found each other across rooms or down the aisles in stores. Tyrone pretended to hate running errands with you. But you had a sneaking suspicion that he liked the domestic shit. He liked when something caught your eye and you’d run back to him bouncing on your toes, giving him puppy eyes, and asking him to buy things for you.

You hated asking for shit. He tried to break you of that habit. You still didn’t like it so you compromised with little shit you found in stores like fuzzy socks or a new stuffed toy.

After dinner, Tyrone was in no hurry to rush you back home. Instead, he took you to the Venice pier and you walked along the boardwalk at sunset. The California sun was lazily slipping below the horizon and people were still trying to hawk their wares before it got too late and the cops came around.

People skated in the park and other couples were walking along. The storefronts had people rushing in and out. Tyrone held your hand and listened to you babble about anything that popped into your head. The annoying neighbors, the yard needed fixing, your stupid ass coworkers.

“One of these days, I’ma convince you to let me take care of you,” Tyrone said. He pulled you into him and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. This close to the beach, a chill spread from the breeze off of the ocean.

“You already take care of me,” you said. Tyrone kissed your cheek.

“More. I know you hate that job,” he said.

And you did. You had been together for a while, but there were still some things you were too proud to accept. “Being taken care of” wasn’t in your vocabulary. You were learning. You needed more time. And Tyrone was content to wait…mostly.

You looked up and found yourself on the long stretch of road in between Santa Monica and Venice. Under the pier, Tyrone stopped and slipped off his kicks. You took off your sandals and you trudged along the sandy beach until you were stepping into the icy water. Your feet sank into the wet sand and squished in between your toes.

Tyrone stepped behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He placed his chin on your shoulder and inhaled your sweet perfume. He kissed your neck. He stepped into you until no part of your backside didn’t touch his front. And you noticed that he was a little excited.

“I’m always excited around your sexy ass,” he whispered in your ear.

You giggled and shook your head. It amazed you that you were still so needy for each other. You were needy for each other’s time, touch, and words. You stood and watched the horizon.

Oranges, pinks, and purples meshed and collided to form a painting in the sky. The few seagulls flying around were trying to scavenge leftover food from asshole tourists and LA natives. The salty air was refreshing and cool.

“I want to give you the universe, baby,” he said with a sigh.

You rubbed his hand around your waist. “You already give me so much,” you said.

Both of your tones were soft and wistful. This moment required a certain reverence for some reason. The joining of two people so madly in love that it hurt to contain it. On more than one occasion, you found yourself out of breath with how much you were in love with this man.

“Sometimes I feel like it’s not enough,” he said.

You turned around in his arms until you could look into his dark brown eyes. You wrapped your hands around his broad shoulders.

“You know that I love you for you, not for what you give me. You are enough for me,” you said.

Tyrone smirked and kissed you. You thought it was going to be a little peck but he captured your lips with his and kept exploring your mouth. His tongue licked your lips and pressed inside. He swallowed your sighs and held you closer, his arms tightening around you.

He withdrew from your lips slowly, reluctantly. He rubbed his nose against yours. “I fuckin’ love you,” he said.

“I fuckin’ love you. Take me home, Tyrone,” you said.

Tyrone chuckled and kissed you again, stepping close until you felt his noticeable bulge. “Shit, I’on know if I can make it that far,” he said.

You giggled against his lips. He said shit like that until he had you folded like a lawn chair and had cum at least three times.

Tyrone pulled away from you and brought his hand up to caress your cheek. How did you get so lucky to find this man? This man radiated love and strength with every dip of his lean as he walked and the set of his shoulders. He took every one of your insecurities about being a thick girl and mildly shy and tossed them in the wind. You felt him. You never questioned his love.

Yet and still, you didn’t know what you did to luck out on him. You thanked whoever was listening that you got to enjoy him for as long as possible.

Tyrone dusted as much sand off of your legs as he could manage. You walked back to the car with anticipation building in between you like a living thing. Tyrone kept touching you. Finding ways to “stabilize you” and “make sure you’re straight”. He’d pull you into his side to step around a tiny ass rock or pull you closer to whisper something nasty in your ear.

“I can’t wait to taste between your legs. Bet that pussy ready for me, ain’t it?”

“Tyrone!” You’d say and squeeze his hand. Your cheeks would burn and your heart would skip a beat.

“Tell me she ready for me,” he whispered against your neck.

“You get on my nerves!” You couldn’t form the words. Of course you were ready for him. Every time you saw him, your panties were instantly soaked and hot. Tyrone licked your neck and you giggled.

“Boy, focus on gettin’ us home!” Tyrone laughed and you made it to the car. He had towels in his trunk so that you didn’t have to get sand absolutely everywhere. He knelt on the ground and cleaned off your legs one by one, smirking up at you while he played with your feet.

You swatted at his head and giggled. Tyrone cleaned off his legs as well and you climbed into his car. Tyrone sped all the way home, rubbing your leg with one hand while his other stayed on the steering wheel.

You felt like you were going to crawl out of your skin with need. Everything was in hyperfocus. The bright street lights took on a hazy hue blending between the golden lights and reds and greens of the traffic light.

Blessedly, you made it home. Tyrone barely pulled into the driveway before he was opening the door for you and yanking you out of the car. Your giggles mixed with his huffs as he slammed the car door and pulled you into the house.

You were apart for half a second while he closed and locked the door. Then his hands were searching for yours in the dark, your lips seeking each other. Your kisses were rushed, hurried, needy.

He pushed you into your bedroom, forcing you to walk backwards. But you weren’t scared. You trusted him to guide you.

He turned on the light and it stung your eyes for a bit. You blinked a few times until you could see the raw desire in his eyes.

His breaths were coming so fast that you saw the rise and fall of his chest. “Turn around,” he said.

You turned as he said. He stepped close and his warm breaths fanned over the back of your neck. It raised goosebumps on your flesh.

He unzipped your dress and let it slide over your skin until it pooled on the floor. He sucked in a sharp breath as it revealed your black lingerie set. A simple bra and panties but there were strategically set lacy parts that were like peek-a-boo windows.

“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous,” he said.

“Sweet talker,” you said with a giggle.

“I’m serious ‘bout that shit,” he said.

He spun you around and kissed you. He took off his jacket and his black T-shirt and then rejoined your lips. His jeans went next until it was just his dark boxer briefs. Fuck, he was beautiful. Thick. He had a beautiful ass, strong thighs, and a wide chest.

Tyrone slipped your panties off and groaned at how some parts clung to you. Cool air kissed your pussy and you shivered. With no warning, Tyrone pushed you onto the bed and spread your legs.

You yelped as your ass hung off of the bed. He knelt on the floor and threw your legs over his shoulders, spreading your further. He bit his lip as he looked at your pussy.

“I’m the luckiest nigga in the world,” he said.

He suckled on your pussy, immediately catching on your clit and you cried out. “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you yelled.

You weren’t prepared at all. You had no idea how fast he was going to devour you. Tyrone always kept you guessing. Sometimes it was fast, sometimes it was slow. Your fingers dug into your bed sheets as he fully supported the lower half of you.

That annoying voice in the back of your head wanted to protest. He couldn’t support all of you.

You told that voice to shut the fuck up and enjoy his lips on you. You moaned as he swirled his tongue. In no time at all, you were already cumming on his tongue with a loud cry.

“Oh shit,” you said.

Tyrone chuckled and nuzzled the top of your pussy, kissing you there. “Mhm, that was too quick. Gimme another one,” he said.

“But–”

Tyrone went back to flicking your clit with his tongue. You were still sensitive from your quick orgasm and your hand flew to his head to push. Tyrone flattened his tongue and licked you from entrance to clit.

“Move yo fuckin’ hand,” he growled and returned to eating you out. That didn’t even seem the proper term. You moved your hand but you wanted to put it back. He added a finger to push inside you. Then he added two and pumped it into you while he continued to lick, suck, and slurp up all your juices.

You were cumming again, cursing and squirming. Tyrone kissed your thighs as you wiggled and writhed beneath him. He nipped the skin between your thigh and pussy and you jerked. He laughed evilly as he stood up.

“Let me see them titties,” he said.

“Tyrone, please, I can’t move,” you said.

“The hell you can’t. C’mon beautiful,” he said. He grabbed your hands and made you sit up. You were boneless and leaned forward to lean your forehead against his stomach. He smelled so damn clean and sexy. He chuckled and rubbed the back of your neck.

You kissed his stomach as you took forever to slip off your bra. “Mmm,” Tyrone moaned as you bared yourself to him.

You scooted further up the bed so that he could climb on. “I ever tell you how fuckin’ sexy you are?” Tyrone asked.

“Shut up,” you mumbled.

He chuckled. Your body was sensitive to the touch and the bastard knew it. He kissed your belly, licked your stretch marks, and settled in between your legs. He kissed and bit his way to your nipples.

You jerked beneath him with a hiss. “Shit,” you said.

“So. Fuckin’. Sexy,” Tyrone said. With each word, he kissed your titties. After he spoke, he laved his tongue around your nipple and sucked hard enough to make you buck off of the bed.

“I promise, I’ll give you everything,” he said. He kissed his way up your skin until he got to your neck. He paid special attention to kissing your neck and licking your pulse point. You ran your hands over his back and neck, rubbing the back of his, and playing with his thick braids.

“I want to give you a real home, baby. Buy you everything you need,” he said. He kissed up your jaw and kissed you.

“Tyrone,” you whispered against his lips.

“I want to make you comfortable. I only wanna see you smile,” he said.

“You already make me the happiest woman ever,” you said. You tugged on his braids until he leaned up and looked into your eyes.

“I’m so happy already, Tyrone,” you said.

He gave you that rare sexy smile. Where he smiled wide and it transformed his face. Your heart shattered. He killed you with that smile.

“I can’t help it. You make me wanna be a better man,” he said. He kissed you, cutting off whatever you were going to say.

As you kissed, his hands explored your body. He rubbed and kneaded your beasts. He squeezed your nipples to the point of pain and then rubbed the sting away. He grasped your waist and slipped his hands around your ass. He grunted and massaged your booty.

You moaned and brought your legs up to wrap around his hips. “Mhm,” he said. He pushed your legs until your knees almost hit your shoulders.

His hand worked at his briefs until he was able to free himself. The tip of his dick gathered up your arousal and pushed inside of you. “Fuuuuck,” you moaned.

He sank in inch by inch with a clipped moan. He kept eye contact as he slid home and you opened your mouth but no sound came out. He stole the air from your lungs like a nasty thief. “Breathe baby,” he commanded.

You panted. You couldn’t get a full breath. He stopped sliding in. A smirk played on his lips while you adjusted to his size.

“Dammit,” you struggled to say.

“Relax, baby. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” He kissed you, pressing his tongue inside.

Your nails dug into his shoulder while you tried to accommodate him. Tyrone kissed his way to your ear.

“I know you want this dick, so quit fuckin’ playing with me.”

His deep voice and nasty words made you clench around him and he slid in more. He chuckled and kissed your ear. “You like it when I talk nasty, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” you nodded.

“Pussy so fuckin’ tight. Open up, baby. Let me give you all of it,” he said. He licked the shell of your ear and you moaned.

Tyrone pushed his hips in and he stretched you out. “With yo pretty ass. I’m so fuckin’ lucky to be with you,” he said.

You took a deep breath and managed a weak laugh. “I’m the lucky one. You make me feel so good,” you said.

Tyrone bottomed out and hit some spot inside of you that made you bow your back and cry out. “There’s my fuckin’ spot. My girl need that shit deep, don’t you?”

He was impossibly deep. It felt like he was in your heart. You were practically folded in half. Tyrone pulled out and then slid back in faster. For every slide out, he came back in twice as hard and made you cry out each time.

“Oh fuck, Tyrone. Wait!” You said. He was bouncing you so hard, that the top of your head grazed the headboard. It didn’t hurt, but if he slammed any harder, he’d send you through the wall. The thought alone made your pussy clench around him and he groaned. You brought a hand up to brace against the headboard and protect your head.

“Can’t,” Tyrone said. He placed his hands on the back of your thighs as leverage and slammed into you over and over. He pounded relentlessly.

You cried. “Please, please,” you chanted over and over. The hand not on the headboard was pushing at his chest. But not to push him away. Just to steady you and match his rhythm.

“Fuck, missed this. Missed you. Missed my pussy,” he said in between grunts. His eyes were locked on yours. On your expressions and pathetic whining. Sweat beaded on his head and ran down the side of his face, disappearing into his light beard.

“Tyrone…” your voice was breathless. Your throat burned from your harsh breaths.

“So fuckin’ beautful. Look how you take my dick. You takin’ all of it. ‘Cause you deserve it, don’t you, baby?”

“I’m…” You couldn’t speak. Your eyes were rolling into the back of your head. You saw an entire universe of stars in the back of your eyelids. Tears ran down your cheeks. Your body tensed before you exploded and shattered. Your body broke apart, came back together, and ripped apart again.

Tyrone was saying something but you couldn’t hear him. Your moans drowned out all sound. Tyrone kept pumping into you as if he was truly trying to fuck you through the wall. He joined you and unloaded inside of you. He pumped you full of him and the filthy squelching was like its own music.

Tyrone stayed inside of you and moved every so often. You were surprised that he was still hard. He rotated his hips and you moaned, pushing at his chest.

“Where have you been all my life,” you cried. Your legs were still pressed against your chest. It should hurt. But Tyrone knew your limits. And he wasn’t done wringing every last orgasm out of you tonight.

“Prayin’ for you,” he said. His lips hovered over yours so that they were touching but not fully kissing.

You couldn’t take anymore. He was too sweet. Too perfect. He gave and gave and you didn’t know how you could repay him for everything. For healing things inside of you that you hadn’t realized were broken. For seeing all the cracks inside of you and pouring love into them.

You shook and cried and he kissed your cheeks. He kissed them both, alternating between the two. You were sure he tasted the saltiness of your tears but he didn’t seem to care. He kissed them anyway, looking into your eyes. Right when you stopped moaning, he’d move his hips and remind you that you were still connected. Still joined. That his cum was still oozing out of you, aided by your arousal.

“I will protect you as long as I breathe, baby. You’re mine, forever,” he said. Then he kissed you and proved for the rest of the night that you were his.

&&&

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