#with a puffy (??? i dunno how to call it lmao) white jacket

[butteryheart]

Extremy mild post but I should dress up a bit more often lol it makes me feel :DD

Also. Random selfie

[jawllines]

YN GETTING STOOD UP AT SENIOR PROM SO SHE CALLS HARRY OVER WHOS LIKE OLDER AND WISE AND HE COMFORTS HER AND THEN THEY FUCK LMAO PLS !!!!!

“’Lo?”

Y/N didn’t know what to do. It was prom, she’d been stood up by her date for Kristen McDale, her makeup was ruined with tears, and her breathing was all shaky and stuttered. She felt like dirt, so she did what she always does when she feels like dirt – she calls Harry. 

Harry was her neighbor – or, well, he used to be, but now he lives on campus in a college not so far off from where she lives. They’d been an unlikely pair of friends, just like every teen rom-com, only without the romantic tendencies. Harry was like a jock bodyguard at school when he was there, who got her tickets to parties as just a Sophomore, let her wear his Letterman jacket when she got cold, and carried her home when she was drunk and wobbly on her feet and away from the other gross Seniors trying to coax her into their bedrooms. 

Of course Y/N had always had a crush on him – he was all green eyes, soft hair, and sweet words, but he always had a girlfriend and Y/N was two years younger. So it never worked out…also like every teen rom-com. 

He encourages her to call when things get to be too much – he knows how she is, with overthinking, and getting to deep in her head. Spent plenty of nights letting her cry to him when everything felt like it was suffocating her. She just hopes that he wouldn’t be too busy with school (or worst: with a girl) to listen to her this time. 

“H-harry?” She hates how her voice quakes, “I – um, can you talk for a second?” 

“Oh no, Babe, why’re you sniffling? Isn’t prom tonight?”

Y/N sniffles, wiping underneath her eyes, “He – he stood me up.” She whimpers out, “I – he called and said he had a different date – the fucking prick! I got all ready and I spent money on my make up and hair and – and this dress! And he stood me up and I don’t know what to do, Harry, I wanna slash his tires but I also just want to cry and watch She’s All That.” 

She can hear the pout in his voice, “Y/N, I’m sorry, but no slashing tires – m’pretty sure college’s see misdemeanors.”

“What about keying his car?” 

Harry’s chuckle settles warm and low in her belly, familiar and comforting – like a hug from a cozy sweater. “Nuh -uh. Say, Pet, why don’t you come down and visit me for a spell? Got that dorm to meself, remember?”

“I won’t be a bother?” 

“Course not! Head on over right now, don’t bother changing though – wanna see you in the dress, yeah?” 

Y/N sniffles again, running the back of her hand beneath her nose, “Kay, see you.” 

“I’ll be waiting.” He promises. 

                                                     …

Just as he said, Y/N barely has time to knock after her “I’m here” text for the door to swing open and reveal him in all his, sweatpants slung low, and grey t-shirted glory. He’s definitely gotten his hair trimmed since she saw him last, and his biceps are bulging against his sleeves a bit more, and Y/N is then very suddenly aware of the makeup still staining and smudging her face.

“Oh, Button,” he pouts, his big hand wrapping around her shoulder and pulling her into a hug. 

Y/N can’t help but burrow her face into his chest, inhaling his citrus – foresty smell, letting it make her feel lightheaded “He’s a dick.” Her grumbles are muffled and soft.

“A right, prick he is. Lemme have a look at you.” He draws back, looking down at her dress and tutting his tongue, “You look so pretty tonight, Pet, he doesn’t know what he’s missing.” 

Snorting, Y/N furrows her brows at him, “I dunno’ if you realize this Harry, but I look like a coked out raccoon.” 

And in very Harry like fashion, he tuts his tongue once more, and shakes his head, reaching to cup her face with his big, warm hands. Letting his thumbs stroke over her tear stained, mascara smudged, cheeks, in slow steady movements, “Still beautiful.”

It’s because he does stuff like this, that makes her all mushy for him. How could she not be, when Harry is sweet and gentle and so nice to her…his looks were just an additional bonus, which was the craziest thing. No wonder he always had a girlfriend, honestly, even if she hates it she understands why. 

“Alright, I’ve got some clothes set out for you and She’s All That queued up. You’re spending the night, Poppet, I’ve already let your mother know.” He gives her a big grin and Y/N returns it just as, if not twice as wide. A sleepover with Harry is always a fun one, and she’s pretty certain he’s her best friend – or at least the only friend she has willing to give up their alone time and their night just so she didn’t have to be alone. 

So she takes herself into the bathroom with his clothes in hand, flopping them on the sink before working on taking the earrings she had out of her ears and avoiding looking at her face for a spell until she can take care of it. She’s lucky she keeps makeup wipes in her purse or she would just have to rock this post stood up for prom” look for the rest of the night. Once she’s wiped free of all mascara debris, she draws her hair back into a bun, before trying to start up on her dress. 

Her dress was one size too small so that everything held up, but it was incredibly hard to get on and out of. She also seemingly forgot her mother had to help her tug it up and over and zip her up, but she remembers this when she’s trying to reach for the zipper and things aren’t going as planned. So with a huff through her nose, she calls out for Harry, who comes moments later.

“Will you please unzip me?” She questions him, and Harry clears throat soundly before nodding, motioning for her to spin around. His fingers were warm, when they touch gently to her shoulder as he moves her hair out of the way, and he gets a grip on the zip before pulling it undone. Y/N hadn’t realized how low it actually went until she feels the warmth of Harry’s hands emanating off of him and upon the top half of her bum.

She expects him to be through after that, but two careful hands start pressing the two sides apart, his palms running smoothly over her back. “Ah,” he tuts his tongue, “Really doesn’t know what he’s missin’,” it’s off handed and takes Y/N by surprise but before she could question him on it, Harry disappears through the door.

Skin pebbled with goosebumps, Y/N finishes getting out of her dress and into one of Harry’s soft sweaters and a pair of sweatpants. Bottom lip bitten raw with thoughts of his hands on her skin as she finally ambles out to him, flopping down on the couch besides him with a puff. The movie set up on his TV and a bowl of popcorn on his lap that he shoves into her hands, “Okay, m’ready to fall in love with a young Freddie Prinze Jr. are you?” 

                                                .        .      .

Y/N peels her heavy eyelids open to the soft sound of a Pretty Little Liars rerun, the gentle whir of the ceiling fan, and a few quiet noises coming from the bathroom. Brows furrowed, she tries to rub the sleep away from her senses – she doesn’t even remember dozing out, but it’s clear that Harry had wrapped her up in his throw cover. Speaking of, where had Harry gone? His phone was still out here, and from where she sat what she could see was his bed was empty, and the bathroom door was left slightly ajar. 

Without much thought, she decides to investigate further. Thinks maybe Harry is just brushing his teeth and washing his face…or at least she hopes so, because if she’s been ditched for another girl for the second time tonight that would destroy her indefinitely. Especially since it’s Harry.

So she moves around the coffee table and towards the bathroom door, rubbing at her eyes and cursing herself for crying so much. A headache tickles at the edges of her brain, and she tells herself to ask Harry for the ibproufen as she begins pressing the door open but all though falters. She’s actually pretty sure her brain starts malfunctioning, as no words or noise come from her mouth, and her mouth falls agape like her jaw had unhinged. 

Hunched over the sink, with his eyes squeezed shut to the reflection of himself in the mirror, one hand from his extended arm holding onto the ceramic counter top, while the other is wrapped around his prick. His very hard, red tipped, thick, and all too delicious looking prick. Front teeth digging into his bottom lip, his brows clinched, there’s sweat beading at his hairline and causing small strands to curl. Y/N couldn’t believe her eyes…sure, she’d accidentally stumbled across her window when Harry had left his cracked open wide, but most of the time he had the decency of being beneath a blanket. 

But this…this Y/N has never encountered before. 

She’s planning on slinking back into the living room, so she can sit on the couch and pretend she’d been asleep this whole time, but a soft groan claws from deep in his chest, and his bitten strawberry swollen lips part around it. Spit slicked and puffy, pursed and all too much for Y/N’s poor little heart to handle. “Fuck,” he thumbs at the already slippery head, the fingers on the sink turning white from how hard he’s gripping it, “s'fucking tight.” 

 Y/N’s heart is bounding against her chest, a twist low in her stomach that sparks a dull ache, and she clenches around nothing. She’s never heard Harry speak like that before, and there was something about it that turned all her nerves into knots. 

 She needs to leave. She needs to turn around and go back to the couch because she’s invading his privacy and she shouldn’t know that he’s as hard as he is, and she shouldn’t know that there is precum splurting from the tip, and she really, really, really shouldn’t know that when Harry dips his thumb into the slit it makes his whole body quake in a shudder. 

But just as soon as she’s convinced to turn away and act as if she’d never seen any of it, he says it.“Y/N,” it’s so quiet, she nearly convinces herself she’s just hearing things, “Fucking, fuck, Y/N.” 

 She doesn’t mean to squeak. Doesn’t mean to give away her position with a terribly embarrassing noise, and doesn’t mean to make him pause in his movements. Blinking his eyes open slowly and raising his head, looking into the mirror at where Y/N stood wide eyed and stock still. When she catches a glance of herself in the mirror, she’s sure she looks like a boner killer all puffy faced from crying but when she dates a quick peek at his cock she sees him twitch in his hand.

 “Ah!” Y/N gasps, smacking her hands over her eyes, “I’m sorry! I was - I was just…needed some ibuprofen and I didn’t know where you were so I came but –”

 “But I was touching myself.” He fills in casually, and all too calmly, “Were you watchin’ me touch myself, Pet?” 

 Her cheeks feel hot, “I’m sorry, I can – if you want me to leave I can leave?” She offers, still with her eyes covered as she starts moving backwards, but she feels his ring clad fingers loop around her forearm to stop her.

 “S'not necessary,” he answers, giving her forearms a tug, trying to see her but she holds strong, “C'mon, you don’t have to hide from me.” 

 “I’m not hiding,” she murmurs, “Just– I didn’t think you wanted me to see your –” 

 “My cock?” He fills in once again and she nods sheepishly, “Darlin, I don’t mind if you see it or not. Besides, you’ve heard me go n’ say your name while I was tugging myself off, dunno why you’re the one acting all embarrassed.” He notes, “Now lemme see you.”

She puts up a fight for only a few moments after, until succumbing to Harry’s insistent hands and letting him pull them from her face. He keeps his hands on her arms as if to settle her, stroking them gently while they slowly relaxed from their tensed state. Once they’re back at her sides, he cradles her face in his palms for the second time that night only this time it feels much less sweet and much more filthy, “There she is,” he murmurs gently, “You look so pretty. You fell asleep on my lap and my thoughts got a little dirty – needed to take care of myself.” 

“Did I make you – is that –” The words keep faltering but Hary jumps in so she doesn’t have to make a stuttering fool of herself, still stroking her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

“What do you think, Sweetheart?” He asks gently, and he’s close enough she can feel his minty breath on her skin, “Think you could just come here looking so cute, and sweet, and sad, and I wouldn’t get hard thinking about taking care of you? ‘Bout fucking you so hard that you forget about that stupid boy, n’all you can think of is my cock?” She shudders, heat pooling in a prickly wave to her lower belly. “Thought you could come here and I wouldn’t wanna pull your hips down into my lap and rub against you, darling? S’that what you thought?” 

She blinks, reaching out to grab at his shirt and fisting the material in her hands, “Harry,” she all but breathes, “I – I –” 

He takes her holding onto him as a good sign, she guesses, because he slides his hand down to her hip, gives her a squeeze and pulls her nearer to him. His nose brushes against her own in a sweet little puppy kiss that really contradicts the state they’re standing in. “’ave you ever given someone head, Baby?” He asks, slipping both hands beneath the hem of his shirt, his fingertips leaving goosebumps on her tummy in his wake. 

Y/N’s brows furrow as she tries to find her words, but he’s so close and his touch is becoming very, very distracting, especially as the tip of his index finger skims just beneath the swell of her breast, “Yes -- yes, I have um -- to the boy who was s’pposed to take me to prom t’night.” She doesn’t know why she tells him who. . .he didn’t ask for it, but Harry pouts his lips at her again, and she feels embarrassed once again, that she’d let the boy sweet talk her into giving him a blowie. Promised to take her to prom, and eat her out after too, the asshole. 

Though being here with Harry is much better, she thinks.

“Tha’s naughty, Pet.” He murmurs, “Knew you had a filthy mouth but didn’t know you were keen on using it.” The smile at his mouth says he’s teasing, small and subtle. 

“Harry --” she starts to whine because she hates being teased but he pretends not to here her and continues on unperturbed. 

“He didn’t deserve this hot little tongue on him though,” he pulls down on her lip, making it pout before she opens up for him, “Not a’ all.” 

Harry leans in then, sliding his tongue gracefully and slow against hers, pressing the whole front of his body into her own while his arms looped around her body and his hands slid down her back. Y/N hasn’t kissed a lot of people so she wasn’t well versed in the structure or movement of it, but Harry was slow, soft, and sweet and he mewls these little noises into her mouth every so often that only cater to the ache in her belly. She doesn’t understand why he’s making them until she realizes that his bare, hard cock is nudging up against her, and it makes her draw her mouth from him for a breath, feeling a bit lightheaded. 

“Can I lick you?” She says without thinking, eyes having flickered down to where he bobs heavily and it makes her mouth water -- the prick she’d been had been a decent size sure, but it wasn’t nearly as pretty as Harry’s. 

His lips are a bit swollen, slicked with spit, and a muted strawberry color as he questions her, “Lick me where?” 

Y/N knows and Harry knows that he good and well is aware of where she wants to. However this doesn’t stop her from bashfully murmuring, “Your cock. Can I please lick you?” 

Smiling, Harry nods but stops her before she can start sinking to her knees, “Tell me if you need’a stop, okay? N’don’t push yourself, Kitten, m’pretty big and I don’ want you choking on me. At least not yet.” 

Nodding, Y/N sinks to her knees and tries to quiet the storm roaring within her as she comes face to face with him. The drippy head taunting her as he pushes his shaft down with a couple of fingers, leveling it with her mouth. Y/N wastes no time in parting her lips around the tip, suckling carefully, just as she was taught to (Tyler may be an asshole, but he did go slow with her). It makes Harry moan out loudly, a noise similar to that of what he’d been making when she stumbled in on him. 

It spurs her onward, and she opens her mouth even more so over the head and tongues at the frenulum, peeking up to look at Harry who has his head thrown back, showing off the smooth expanse of his neck while both hands hold onto the sink counter tightly. “Ah, yes, yes, right there.” He encourages her, “Got such a pretty, warm lil’ mouth, doing so well.” 

Y/N buzzes with the compliments, taking him even farther into her mouth before giving an experimental bob, placing her hand at the base of him and giving a twist. His hips buck at that and he shoves deeper in her mouth, but controls himself quickly, moving to place a hand at her scalp, not pushing her but just as a gently presence “Sorry baby, you just feel so good. Take your time with me.” 

So she does. Y/N bobs her head slowly, sucking on him and listens to all the whimpers and whines that add to the wet dripping and soaking her panties. Her thighs are squeezing together the best they can, to get at least some pressure on her clit, but it does very little. She keeps her other hand at his thigh to keep herself from reaching down and rubbing like she wants to. 

It’s when she pulls back entirely, flattens her tongue and licks a stripe from the small dip of his balls to the smooth, shiny head that Harry’s fingers dig into her hair. “Fuck,” he cries out, looking down to her and his pupils are blown, puffy lips hanging open as she uses the tip of her tongue to really lick at the slit. Y/N can feel him throb in her hand, one that might mean he’s about to cum before he gives her a sharp tug back. “Stop, stop, stop, stop,” he repeats, and it’s only when she’s staring up at him that she realizes her jaw aches and she wonders if she’s done something wrong. 

Y/N guesses her face is easy to read as a book though, as Harry pets tenderly at her head, stroking the hair he’d mussed up down, “You weren’t doin’ anything wrong, Darling, I was just so close to cumming. Realized I wanted to nut off on your body rather than on your mouth.” His hand slowly skims down to her ear, caressing the lobe, “Just don’ know where yet.” 

She starts to stand, a little wobbly on her legs but Harry reaches out to hold her steady, “Easy there,” he titters, “Wanna hear what m’gonna do to you?” 

"Yes!” She answers a little to eagerly and it makes him chuckle warmly.

“First, m’gonna take all this off,” he begins, fingering at the collar of his shirt she’s wearing, his other hand squeezing on her hip like he’s proved to be so fond of doing, “Gonna take my time with you . . .get you so worked up that your dripping down your thighs, begging me to do something, anything at all,” Y/N feels dizzy with want, listening to his words thick with desire, “And instead of giving into your cute little whimpers, I’ll press your thighs together real tight, and slide my cock right in between. . .make you watch the head disappear and reappear while you wish and want it to be inside you. Dunno if I’ll even take you t’night, Pet, maybe I’ll just get you all flustered and hot before cuddling you to sleep.” He waits a beat, searching her face, “Are you ready for that?” 

Gulping, Y/N nods. 

This is much better than prom.