aster - Chapter 5: Chapter 5

Harry💛
I'll be out in another half hour. Get dressed and be ready, and I'll come get you. I want to do something special today with you. I'll let you know when I'm on my way. xx
Harry, her boyfriend, texted her. Somehow, since their somewhat emotional conversation, he had only gotten sweeter and softer on her. There wasn't a day that went by without him being with her; wether it just be taking his lunch to campus and sitting with her in between classes, letting Liam lock up and Zayn take care of remaining appointments so he could leave earlier and be with her, or just inviting her over to spend the night with him again. She knows she doesn't have much to compare it to, but Harry's got to be the best boyfriend on the planet. There's no way anyone could treat her better than he does; no one could be more understanding, affectionate, and fun to be around.
There's no way she could be in love with anyone that wasn't Harry.
She doesn't really know if she's moving too fast, or just mistaking her feelings for love, but at this point she thinks she can't much deny how deeply she feels for him. There's no way that what she feels for him—the constant reminder of him in regular things, the yearning to be with him almost constantly, the way he makes her feel vulnerable yet so secure at the same time—could be anything but love. She just wants to scream it from the rooftops, and tell the world, including Harry himself, that she's in love with the kindest, smartest, most amazing man in the world. But, she knows that she could be moving a tiny bit fast, and she doesn't want to be that "crazy" girl that drives boys away because she gets "obsessed" or confesses her love too quickly. She doesn't know what she'd do if Harry just broke up with her if she took it too far.
So she'll just keep it to herself.
Sarah was currently at her last class of the day, leaving (Y/N) home alone. When she had told Sarah that Harry was officially her boyfriend, it almost felt like a preteen movie the way she was so excited for her. She bubbled off questions for her, almost screaming and jumping at how (Y/N) "finally got her first boyfriend!" It was sweet how excited she was; it felt reminiscent of an older sister bonding with her sibling over boys. It felt nice getting her enthusiastic support, even if the teasing increased.
Okay, I'll see you soon!! Drive safe💛
(Y/N) replied to Harry's text, getting up and getting dressed and ready like he asked. The weather was perfect to be outside; the ideal spring day. She dressed for the weather, in a summery dress with little lavender flowers decorating the white flowy fabric, and a lacy headband holding her hair back. She quickly washed her face, not bothering with makeup at the moment as she didn't feel the need. Harry always told her that she looked "jus' s'pretty, angel, s'pretty" even if she had less makeup on than him. Also, the thought of coming home and having to take it all off just made her tired.
Soon enough Harry had arrived outside of the apartment complex, shooting her a text to let her know he was there. (Y/N) basically ran down the hallway, and down the stairs to the parking lot to him. His car was still running as he was parked again the curb. She bounced into the car, shutting the door and not bothering to even buckle up before she leaned across the center console and planted a kiss onto his cheek.
Harry turned to look at her from his phone, his black sunglasses covering his eyes (though she thinks she sees another pair holding his hair back). His ringed hand reaching out and landing on the side of her neck, with a soft, warm smile matching the weather. "Come back here. I want a real kiss, love."
She eagerly lent back over, touching her hand to his chest before closing her eyes and pressing her lips to his. She could feel the faint smile on his mouth as she initiated their affection. Harry gave her those quick, short kisses, never fully pulling away before planting another onto her lips. He pressed one, last hard kiss before pulling back. He rubbed their noses together for a moment before pulling away fully.
"Missed you today," Harry crooned, his hand sliding down from her neck to the hand on his chest, "I wanted to leave in the middle of appointments and come get you. I feel like I haven't seen y'in so long."
His hand wrapped around her fingers before pulling them up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the top of her hand. (Y/N) laughed at him, "You saw me yesterday, H."
"For twenty minutes before y'had to go to class. That's not long enough, angel," Harry challenged, his fingers squeezing her's, "I like spending time with m'girlfriend, what can I say?"
That last comment got her feeling so soft. It was still so nice, and new hearing him call her his girlfriend. She'd never been that to anyone before, and to hear her Harry—her tattooed, pierced, protective Harry—call her his girlfriend just made her heart bloat from the full feeling she got. "I like spending time with you, too."
Harry just smiled at her, facing away and pulling away from the curb. His hand stayed held in hers, running his polished thumb along the edge of her own. His speakers sounded with music from a new playlist she'd never heard from before. This one was actually entitled with letters that matched her initials followed by a flower emoji. She squeezed his hand in her's after reading that bit, and tuning into the upbeat love song playing.
"What are we doing today?" she asked after a song she particularly liked finished playing. Her fingers traced along the tattoos on Harry's hand, particularly this one of a little honeybee in between his thumb and forefinger.
"I thought we could spend the afternoon outside, if that's okay. The weather's nice, and I put together a picnic so we could eat in the park," Harry explained, glancing over at her as he drove. (Y/N) loved that idea. Harry had told her a little while back of this park he went to when he needed to sketch out ideas for the shop's design book; particularly this small secluded spot that not a lot of people ventured towards even though he said it looked like the type of field The Great British Bake-Off would set up their tent in.
(Y/N) agreed with a small okay as he drove them to the park in question.
Once there, it wasn't nearly as busy as (Y/N) would have assumed from the weather. She did figure since it was around noon on a Tuesday that people were still busy with work and school, but how anyone would stay inside on a day like this was wild to her. Harry exited the car and met her on her side before opening the back door and pulling out a deep green canvas bag with what she assumed was their food and other things he could have packed. He took her hand in the other and led her down the trail. She followed him towards the back corner behind the main focal point of a fountain, with a rather large cluster of trees blocking his spot from the main stream of people. Behind the tiny forest was the field with wild flowers and bright sunshine that he had told her all about. In the shade of the largest tree, Harry pulled a navy blue quilt from the bag and laid it out before sitting down and pulling her with him.
"Do y'like it?" Harry asked, pulled her closer for a moment and pressing a kiss on her already blushing cheek.
"Yeah, it's so pretty, H. Thank you for bringing me here," she concurred, leaning closer to him right under his arm.
He hummed in acknowledgment before leaning closer to her. He ducked his head down and pressed a kiss to the skin in front of it, "Not as pretty as you, but I know what y'mean."
She whined out his name, hiding her face behind her hand. He still was able to make her all bashful, and flushed with just the sweetest and easiest of compliments. She's sure it'd never get old.
Harry just laughed at her embarrassment, pressing another kiss to her face. He reached towards the bag he had placed on the corner of the blanket, pulling out small take out containers from the little Chinese restaurant that had become a favorite of their's. (Y/N often considered it their restaurant).
"I got us our favorites, with extra rice this time. I hope this is okay, I didn't feel like cooking today," Harry mumbled, focused more on pulling out the separate containers and evenly distributing them.
"It's perfect, Harry. Thank you for even doing all of this, and bringing food and everything." (Y/N) just felt so soft at all the effort that went into this last minute date. He just tried so hard to make all of their time together perfect, even if they just stayed in or if he did something small like this. Gosh, she has to be in love.
"Of course, angel. I told you I've missed you," Harry offered as the explanation. He threw a smile over his shoulder at her as started popping open the containers and getting out utensils and napkins.
Harry moves back to his position next to her, laying his legs out in front of him with his palm laid flat behind him to prop him up. With the sunlight casting a sunny glow on him, all the tattoos on his torso shown through his sheer black top with floral appliques, and his ripped black skinny jeans and patent leather black boots, he just looked like a Gucci model. His nails today were a glittered black, chipping at the corners, his favorite "H" and "S" rings on his fingers next to his large gold ones of the lions holding jewels in their mouth. It all screamed for some type of editorial photoshoot with him as the muse. (Y/N) thinks that maybe if he hadn't decided to go on and be a tattoo artist, he could have been a model or something. He could walk runways even, she believes.
"Why're y'looking at me like that?" Harry crooned, his perfect smile on his face. He reached over, his hand softly resting on her jaw, "Y'look like you've got hearts in your eyes."
It looks like he's got his own heart eyes, actually. "No reason. You just look really handsome." A heat reached her cheeks, her gaze leaving his own intense one.
"And you look beautiful, angel," Harry's cooed, his tone quiet and private although no one else was around to hear it anyway. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, rubbing their noses together for moment after he pulled away. "Now let's eat, yeah?"
—————
After eating their late lunch, the sun moved lower in the sky, but still bright. The buttery glow added to the warmth of Harry's head laid in her lap (and the type of warm you get after eating, but mostly from Harry). After putting all of their trash away and cleaning up, Harry had laid down across the blanket with his head in the lap of her folded legs.
His hair was swept across his forehead, the sunglasses that had been holding his hair back were now folded next to the canvas bag. The arm closest to her body was wrapped around her mid section, holding her with his fingers squeezing at her hip periodically. His other hand was laid on his chest over a large tattoo of a crystal-like rose in between his two swallows. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was even and deep, but the few squeezes from his fingers would assure her that he was still awake. (Y/N) occupied herself with tracing over his features with her fingertips.
Her fingers brushed through his hair and traced his hairline. She ran them over his eyebrows to which he furrowed them causing her to let out a breathy laugh. She rubbed the crease in between them, making him relax and go back to his sleep like state. She traced the crease of his eyelid, touching the tips of his long lashes before running them underneath his eyes and wiping away faint, runaway shadows of eyeliner. She traced his jaw and nose, caressing the planes of his cheeks. She left his lips for last, feeling the fullness and ridges that she usually only feels with her own. His lip ring was changed out to a plain black one from his old silver one, causing it to stand out more against his skin. She traced over his hoop, feeling along the edge of his bottom lip. As she traced the Cupid's bow, his lips puckered to kiss the pad of her finger. The hand on his chest, reached up and held her's against his lips. He kissed each of her fingers so softly, like a butterfly's kiss (Y/N) thinks. His eyes remained closed as she let out an airy laugh at him.
"I love that," she murmered, referring to the way he seemed to kiss her hands almost as much as he kissed her lips. It was cute seeing him so gentle with her like that, the pink paint on her nails matching that of his lip color with the contrast of his lip ring standing out. His own tattooed hand over her own. One of her favorite tattoos of his faced her on the edge of his hand on the side of his pinky, standing out to her especially in that moment. It was a sentence printed out in all capital, handwritten letters that said love me please?.
"I love you, too."
What?
His eyes stayed closed at his whispered confession, his hand moving their joined ones to his cheek and pressing her's there. It was like it was normal and common for them to say that to one another, like he had just asked her about her day. It was like he hadn't just told her he loved her; like he hadn't just told her the words she's been dying to hear and dying to tell him for at least the past month.
"What?" Her voice stayed quiet, but much more clear than his had been. She'd love to just take it as it was, that he wanted to confess to her in that moment, but she couldn't believe that that's the way it would happen. With him half asleep in her lap, in the corner of a park as she just told him that she liked it when he kissed her fingers. She could have misheard him for all she knows.
His brows furrowed with his eyes still closed, he squeezed the hand around her hip, turning his body onto his side. He let go of her hand, putting it in his hair as his own joined the other arm and wrapped around her middle. He nosed at her hip, pressing a kiss there too. "What?" he repeated back to her.
Her hand stayed still in his hair, with the one behind her fisting the blanket they laid on. Her own brows raised, as she almost felt like her eyes rounded out at they way he was behaving. He's just told her he loves her and he's cuddling into her like his little kitten Evie would. "You said you love me," she responded, a croon to her voice she doesn't recognize.
A rigidness fell over his body. While his shoulders went taunt, his grip on her loosened. His eyes slowly opened, like he dreaded to see what would be there when they opened fully. He slowly sat up, leaving her lap and the warm bubble they had been sat in since they finished eating. He sat next to her, with his body facing behind her. His torso turned towards her, with his hands leaning in front of him in the space between them. His gaze stayed down at his hands as they messed with the fibers of the blanket.
"I...I didn't realize I said that, 'm sorry." His eyes glanced up at her's, where surprisingly her's were the ones that were looking for that contact.
"Do you mean it?" was all she asked in response. This time she could see a flush come over his skin as opposed to it always being after her.
He gave her one of those shy lopsided smiles she rarely saw from him as he was usually so sure of himself. He shrugged and matched her eyesight for a moment before moving back to his hands. "Yeah...but y'don't have to say it back, I know it might be a bit soon. I didn't even realize I said it, not exactly the way I pictured I'd tell you. Not very romantic, huh?"
He tried to joke away his revelation, making her feel like she has to be the one that reassured him of her feelings, not the other way around like usual. It was a different dynamic between them for her. He was usually so sure, and so ready to let her know where he stood, by words or by actions. But nothing could top the feeling of knowing that Harry loved her, that it wasn't just some sleepy nonsense he had said on a whim. He meant it. He meant it when he said he loved her. All of those times she would sit at work behind the library counter, or distract herself from her coursework where she would just think about how much he meant to her and if he felt the same way, that he could have been doing the same. That he did feel that same buttery warmth, that same rosied hue when he looked at her, that softened haze when he was reminded of her, he felt it all.
Her hand reached out towards his, moving her body to follow. Where she was sitting previously with her legs criss-crossed beneath her, she moved so her legs were folded beneath her at the knee with her bum on her heels. He looked up at her, his gaze finally matching her own. Her other hand reached towards his shoulder, tangling through the strands that rested there. This time he didn't look away from her when she spoke, "I love you, too, Harry."
That same shy smile graced his lips, his fingers wrapping around her own over the blanket. "Yeah? Y'love me?"
"Yeah, lots." Now it was her turn to get bashful at the confession of just how deep she felt it.
"Me too, angel. S'much."
He moved his hand out from underneath her's, and put both of his own on her waist and pulled her to his lap. She sat astride him with her knees bent and her heels touching her thighs. Her butt sat against his own thighs, with her chest touching his. His hands abandoned her sides and instead cradled her face between his ringed hands.
"I love you so much, m'sweet girl." He rubbed their noses together for a moment before locking their lips together. It felt different than their kisses from before. Still the same comfort, and groundedness, but (Y/N) doesn't know if maybe she was just making stuff up or willing it to feel a certain way because that's how it was in books and movies, but there was almost like there was an added layer of connection. This type of kissing didn't serve any other purpose other than to show how much they really did love one another; a deeper affection than (Y/N) thinks she's ever felt. There wasn't anything else in this world other than Harry at that moment. She never thought she'd be in love or be loved—after having gone through her childhood and living with her parents, she didn't think she'd ever have the chance to have a normal love—, and to be both of those things with Harry? It felt so freeing.
While love is meant to conquer all, it couldn't conquer the need to breathe.
She pulled away from him, her fingers saying laced in his hair. Her forehead laid against his shoulder, a deep smile on her face at the feeling of just being with him. Harry kissed the side of her head. His hands rubbed up and down on her back, scratching gently at certain points.
"I love you," she whispered against his shirt.
Her arms tightened around her in a hug. She felt him smile against her hair just before he breathed out at laugh. "Woah, love. Y'dont think that's a bit soon? I jus' met you and you're saying y'love me? You're wild."
She pulled back from his shoulder and gave him a shocked, flushed face. "Harry! You just told me you loved me too! You even said it first!" she whined, feeling slightly embarrassed even though she knew he was just messing around.
"'M jus' kidding, baby. You know I love you, too. M'angel," he cooed to her, pressing extra kisses to the side of her face and trailing to her cheek and to the corner of her mouth. "Love you so much."
"Woah, Harry, you don't think that's a bit soon?"
"Oh, hush."
—————
"'M sorry, baby, I thought I had more time to finish all this. As soon as 'm done we can go get dinner, and do whatever y'want, yeah?"
The semester was winding down, giving (Y/N) much more free time during the week as some classes were unofficially finished until finals. She also took less hours at the library, letting herself have more time than she'd ever given herself before. Harry had been telling her she worked herself too hard between her classes and work and he wanted her to have a good summer; a good summer with him.
The Friday night she usually would have spent in the library, watching everyone cram for finals and reshelf books people didn't care to do themselves, was now spent with Harry over a nice dinner at a new Italian place that had opened on the other side of town. Or at least that's what it was meant to be.
The shop was officially closed for the night when she came by, Harry letting her in the locked door. All the other boys had gone home already, leaving it just the two of them for the time being before they left. Harry was supposed to drive them to the restaurant as soon as she got there, but when (Y/N) saw him open up the door for her she knew there was going to be a change of plans. When he would go to work, his hair was usually kept down, with maybe a headband or a small bun on the back of his head to keep it out of his eyes while sketching or tattooing, but now it was fully pulled back with a satiny, grey scrunchie he had stole from her. His eyeliner was smudged all over his eyes and his "H" and "S" rings were switched with the "S" first on his fingers (she thought that was really cute actually, but at the expense of his comfort, she felt bad), and his freshly painted mint green nails were already chipped and flaking away. His black satin shirt, with "Styles" embroidered in ivory thread over the breast pocket was wrinkled and sat awry on him; one end was tucked into his jeans and the other hung over the waistband.
He kept apologizing over and over for having to derail their plans because he forgot to do some paperwork on the leasing of the building and order forms and other various business formalities that (Y/N) didn't understand. Although he was in a rush to get back to work and get it all done as fast as he could, she could tell he really did feel bad for delaying their plans and having to "disappoint" her as he put it. He had led her to his back office with him, down that hallway she had seen him come out of the first time she visited all that time ago. His office was much like his room at his house, dark colors with small touches of homely things; a deep burgundy couch was pressed against the wall to the right of the door and a coffee table in front of it with his work desk directly across from the threshold. It was all warm colors and warm wood and some other little things (Y/N)'s sure that could be interchangeably switched between his home and this office.
He had led her to the couch and let her sit down as he took a seat in the desk chair. He continued his apologies there, messing with already organized papers and searching for a pen that was already in his hand.
"Harry, really, it's okay. Relax, you're getting stressed out over nothing," (Y/N) comforted, reaching towards him and landing her hand on his shoulder. "Just take your time and finish all your stuff. If we don't make it to dinner, it's fine, we can just stay in. I don't care what we do, I just want to be with you."
"Oh, angel, you're too sweet," he breathed, a small look of relief washing over his features. He leaned towards her, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "Y'can look through this, or draw something for yourself in it. 'M sorry I don't have much else for you to do while y'wait on me. Let me know if you're getting bored or anything, please? 'M so sorry." He passed her a leather sketchbook and a sketching pencil with an apologetic smile on his face. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed to be asking her to basically color while she waited on him.
"Thank you," she offered, kissing his cheek and letting him return to his work.
(Y/N) laid the sketchbook flat on the coffee table, flipping through the thick pages filled with Harry's art style. Some pages were dedicated to one single design; a landscape, intricate line work patterns, or different animals which (Y/N) assumed were more for the design book as opposed to his personal collection of sketches. Other pages were dedicated to different angles of facial features; different angles of the same eye, different angles of the same nose, same chin, all dedicated to their own pages. After flipping through a good chunk of the sketches, (Y/N) found a section of pages dedicated to one person over and over. According to Liam that first time they met, Harry was more into sketchy type of work along with line work as opposed to drawing people and other realistic type of pieces, so seeing those pages wasn't what she expected. But the most unexpected part of it all, was that these drawings were of her.
Some were of her smiling and laughing, others were of a more serious face, or her pouting. It almost made her kind of want to cry honestly. He made her look so beautiful the way only an artist can; the way only he could. Her heart soared at the thought that, that was how he saw her; when he looked at her, he saw something worthy of committing to paper. He dated and initialed each page, showing that these pages went back as far as the weeks before they had even kissed. She knew it was around the time that he had explained he was avoiding her because he didn't know how to behave around her. It made her heart hurt from how full it felt at the thought of him really sitting down and drawing her because he didn't know how else to get his feelings out.
She glanced up at him from the book, watching him as he filled out the paperwork. She could see the side of his face, his tongue peeking out and messing with his lip ring as he read through the print on the page. She likened the face he was making now to what she imagines he could have looked like when he was sat out in that little part of the park, or sat up in bed late at night, or even just back here, in the office, for some privacy as he sketched out pages of her face. She let out a sigh at the idea, small enough that Harry didn't seem to notice.
Her eyes trailed down from his face, admiring her boyfriend. His arms and back muscles flexed as he filled out the different forms and reached around the desk for different papers and things. Seeing his shoulders strain against the satin of his shirt, (and she doesn't know if it was just the idea of him being in charge of his own business and the fact he was taking care of all of these things), he just looked so... sexy in that moment. He looked so strong, and firm, and collected. Compounded with the knowledge of him being so soft and sweet on her, and the fact he had drawn all of those beautiful pictures of him, made her feel a way she wasn't used to.
Of course, she wasn't immune to Harry's looks (she developed a whole crush on him even after he was a dick, just because he was cute for pete's sake!), but at this moment she doesn't think she's ever found him more attractive. Not even the time he had surprised her at the library, or when he was laid out on the blanket next to her the day he told her he loved her, or even when she had first met him could top the way she saw him right at this moment. Just the idea that the man that was stressfully taking care of his own business, was the same man that had probably sat alone in his favorite comfy sweats, and sketched her out because he had such a beautiful vision of her, he wanted a tangible version of it. It just... turned her on, really. It was like the feeling started in her heart and actually turned into a physical reaction to him.
She wanted him. She was ready, she doesn't know for what, but she was ready.
She wanted to show him what she thought of him. Kissing could only take her so far before it couldn't express how she felt to the fullest form. She wanted to show him her version of drawing him (she's a pretty lousy artist so she thinks this might be a better way to express her attraction than with an awful stick figure). She wanted to show him that now; to show him her love in a tangible, physical way.
She waited a moment, thinking of what to say. She watched his muscles move under the short sleeve of his shirt before moving her gaze to the sleeve of tattoos on his arm. The sleeve was really (as far as (Y/N) could tell anyway) just different miscellaneous objects and scenes scattered all over his arm, all tied together with a filler pattern behind them of intricate line work that resembled that of a mandala design. The lower tattoos on his wrist and hand morphed into a that of a thorny bush, small flowers decorating the tendrils wrapping up into his fingers and leaving small spaces in between for other petite tattoos he had there. One of her favorites (at least on this section on this arm) was a small cluster of watercolor poppy flowers on the outside of his bicep.
She thought maybe she didn't have to outright say she wanted him to touch her right away if she could just drop a couple of hints first. She figured since Harry was experienced, he would pick up on the hints immediately, and take charge the way he always did.
Luckily, with the way Harry had set up the office, the end of the couch was quite close to the work desk. With Harry filling out the space, and leaning towards the side closest to the couch, she was able to just lean over and press a kiss right onto the poppies on his arm.
She quickly pulled back after pecking his skin, wanting to see what his reaction was. He didn't stop working on his form, just a lopsided smile on his face. "Thank you, love," is all he said back as he continued his work.
(Y/N) felt herself pout at his words. She knows it wasn't exactly the most obvious of hints, but she reckons that if he were to do that to her she would drop all she was doing to pay attention to him. She tried again, this time just tracing the outside lining of the poppies before kissing his shoulder over the satin. When he did nothing in return, she decided she didn't have much of a choice than to actually speak.
"I like your tattoos," she mumbled. A lackluster start, but a start, right?
"Yeah? Heard a rumor y'had a thing for m'tattoos," Harry joked, flipping over a page and initialing spots on the back, "Which one's caught your eye this time?"
"The poppies. They're really pretty," she complimented, her voice small. How she could turn this conversation into one of something sexual, she didn't know.
"Y'want one? A tattoo, I mean. I could give it to y'real quick," he said, his deep voice contrasting with her own small mumbles.
"I don't even know what to get, Harry, or where I would get it. And you know my parents would kill me," she stopped him. Although she liked the idea of him lent over her, giving her a tattoo, she figured tonight wasn't really the night for an impromptu tattoo.
"I could give you a tiny, little one," he started, seeming to be done with that particular form as he sat his pen down and put his full attention on her, "Since y'like the poppies, we could give y'one of those. Make it real little and put it somewhere they can't see. It'd be our little secret."
(Y/N) assumes he probably wasn't trying to seductive, that his hooded eyes were just that of tiredness and straining from reading fine print. He probably didn't mean to make his voice especially gravelly and deep, as it was more so due to not using it within the last ten minutes. And it'd be their little secret? Oh gosh, she doesn't even know why that gets her but it does! She knows he probably wasn't trying to actively seduce her, but it sure feels like it.
"Where?" she squeaked out, not trusting herself to offer much more. She started picking at her nails in her lap, trying to relieve some of the fidgety nerves in her veins.
Harry pushed himself out of the little cubby of his desk, turning so he faced her. A lazy smile on his face as he patted his thighs, gesturing for her to sit on his lap. (Y/N) stood up, feeling a buzz go through her veins at his action, fueling the fire between her legs. She sat directly on his lap, her thighs on either side of his with her knees bent and her butt sat firmly on his upper thighs. One of Harry's arms held her behind her back, keeping her stable, while the other landed on the side of her jaw. He tipped her head up, causing her to look at him.
"We could put it here," he said , turning his own head to press a kiss behind her ear. "Or here." This time a kiss was planted on the lower side of her neck under her hairline and hidden by hair. He kissed gently along her jawline, no implications of what (Y/N) was wanting showing through his lips. "Y'probably wouldn't want it here, but you'd still look pretty," he joked right before he kissed her lips. As much as she tried to smile at his teasing, all she wanted to do was kiss him. She wanted to show him what she wanted without having to explicitly tell him in so many embarrassing words.
Harry quickly caught up to her, taking over and showing her the direction in which they were headed. He didn't let her deepen it the way she wanted, basically ignoring the little licks from her tongue on his bottom lip. He pulled away from her much sooner than she wanted, pressing a single kiss to the fullest part of her lips before looking at her with a smile on his face.
"We really could, love. Tattoo you, I mean. Wherever y'want it, we could," Harry offered, not realizing that she didn't want a tattoo (tonight anyway), but she wanted him instead.
She decided to take matters into her own hands, literally. She took ahold of the hand on her neck, and placed it on her breast, a deep flush overtaking her at her forewardness, but this somehow felt less embarrassing than actually saying it. "I could get it here," was her seductive remark, much less sultry due to the slight waver in her voice.
Harry didn't seem phased at all by what she had done, directing his palm away from the swell of her chest but keeping his fingers over the spot of where her heart would be. "Right over your heart, love? That'd be cute."
She thought she was supposed to be the clueless one here!
After huffing out a breath, she took his hand again shaking her head. "Could I have it here, Harry?" She boldly placed his hand under her skirt and right over her panties. She held it there with the help of her own hand, feeling the pressure from his fingers through her underwear, "Please?"
This seemed to be enough of a hint from her to get him to realize what she had been wanting. "Oh," he breathed out. His gaze flickered in between his hand and her eyes, his eye contact almost too intense for her in the moment. She wanted to look away from him, feeling embarrassed as he didn't immediately take up the opportunity.
Isn't that how it goes? As soon as one party makes it obvious they want the other, at least in romance movies, the other follows suit. Then the sensual music plays and a montage of roaming hands and moaning faces is played before a skip to the morning after.
But Harry just looked at her.
Her hand left his, allowing him the opportunity to remove the contact. But he just rested his fingers there, looking at her for a beat longer before kissing her again. This one was much harder, and deeper than any other kiss they had shared before. Gone were the the gentle touching of their lips, and the tentative licks into her mouth. They had been replaced with harsh pressing of the fullness of his lips to her's, his tongue wiggling through the seam of her lips and dominating the kiss. This was a show of how she made him feel physically, not pure affection. She loved it.
She moaned into his mouth as the hand on her pussy tensed, causing the flat of his palm to hit right over her clit. That same hand snaked from her front and over her hip to land on the swell of her bum. His mouth stayed firm on her, his arm supporting her back with the fingers gripping her side. His hand on her butt pushed her forward, causing her center to grind right over the bulge in his jeans. The thin cotton of her panties left nothing to be desired from the firm brush of the denim against her, another moan leaving her. Harry sighed into her mouth at the sound of her pleasure and the feeling of her body on his in ways he had only dreamed about up until now. Harry pulled her towards him a few more times, her moans and whimpers escalating at they went. Soon enough (Y/N) took the initiative and did it herself; grinding down as hard and fast as she wanted, aiming to relive the pressure that had collected in her tummy. After a particularly slow and hard grind, Harry let out his own full moan, graduating from his sighs and heaving.
(Y/N) figures there wasn't a song in the world that could rival the way that sounded to her ears. No music she'd ever heard was as beautiful and enticing as the sound that had just left his lips. And it was because of her. She wanted him.
Now.
She gave a few more of those presses from her hips before he stopped it all. Both his hands grabbed her hips and kept her from moving further. His lips disconnected from her own, burrowing into her neck and breathing heavily into the skin. She heard him mumble curses into her hair under his breath before pulling back from her.
His head rolled back onto the head rest of the chair, his eyes squeezed shut. With his heavy breathing, Harry heaved to her, "Okay, we've got to stop or 'm going to cum in m'pants."
(Y/N) somehow found the breath to giggle at his words. She laid her hands against his chest and waited for him to catch his breath. Once Harry seemed to have recovered from her ministrations, he opened his eyes. She rushed forward, ready to capture him in a kiss and bring them back to where they were just moments ago. He allowed only a single kiss before pulling her back from a hand on her waist. (Y/N) could feel herself pout at his subtle rejection, not wanting to stop when she could feel how sticky and wet she was just from those few minutes with him.
With his breathing now even, and him composed, Harry spoke to her in his measured, collected tone she knew all too well, "We've got to talk a little first, angel. I need to know what y'want."
"I just want you," She bubbled, figuring that enough explanation as she went for his lips again. He shook his head at her, his grip staying tight and not letting her get too far.
"No, love. I need to know what y'want to do tonight, if anything at all. I need you to tell me how far y'want me to go," Harry elaborated, his eyes staying firm on her's.
Honestly, (Y/N) didn't know how to answer that. She didn't really think that far ahead. She just had assumed that Harry would know exactly what she wanted and would do so in the experienced, and precise manner he did everything else. She didn't even know what she wanted tonight. She didn't think she was ready for sex, but she didn't know what else she could do to both relieve herself and take care of the bulge in his jeans that wasn't sex. She just wanted to feel close to him; feel his warm skin against her's. But how could she do that if she wasn't ready to have sex?
"I—I don't know," she answered, her gaze dropping to her fingers playing with the button of his shirt, so she wouldn't have to see his reaction. She'd never felt so juvenile before that moment; like she was unworthy of Harry and all his knowledge and experience. This didn't feel all special and romantic like she had thought it would feel when she finally decided to do anything intimate like this.
Harry hummed at her answer, seeming to mull it over and figure out what his next move should be. "Did y'want to do any more than what we jus' did?"
She knew she definitely wanted more than just the kissing and grinding. She wanted to feel him on her skin, no clothing in the way. She nodded her head, her eyes still avoiding his. He tipped her head up with a hand under her chin.
"I need y'to talk to me, yeah? I don't want to assume y'want something, and then find out you're not feeling good," Harry cooed, a firm undertone in his voice. (Y/N) nodded her head, seeming to forget how he's just told her he wanted her to talk. It only lasted for a second as Harry have her a pointed look with raised brows at her response.
"Okay, I understand," she rushed, wanting him to know she was listening to him. A soft smile took over his face, kissing her flushed cheek in adoration.
"I don't think we should make love tonight, alright? I don't think we're there yet. That alright?"
"Yeah," (Y/N) bleated, feeling nervous at the though of going all the way tonight. Although her mind was racing a mile a minute, for a moment she got stuck on the way he referred it to as making love. She didn't think anyone called it that anymore, and she loved the way it sounded coming from him.
"Good, good. Would y'mind if I did something for you tonight, then? I want tonight to be about you, and making you feel good," Harry explained. His hand under her chin moves to her cheek as she rubbed along her cheekbone. She mumbled an okay, the thought of him touching her and taking care of her pulling her into the place she was mentally when they were kissing. "I could lick into you, if you'd like. Does that sound okay, darling?"
Her brows furrowed. Although that sounded both wonderful and terrifying at the same time, she was confused at how he wanted to do something that would be focused on her pleasure with nothing in it for him. "What about you? I want you to feel good, too."
An amused smile molded his features, "Don't worry about me, angel. Seeing you feel good is going to be more than enough for me. Y'dont know how long I've wanted to taste you, so this is for me, too. Fuck, baby, seeing you might make me cum right away, if 'm being honest."
She felt a deep flush take her at the sound of his longing for her. The idea of him having imagined this moment before made her ready to just pull her clothes off and offer everything she had to him. She breathed a whine at the sound of his words, feeling a warm type of shiver travel down her spine. Harry mumbled a fuck under his breath and pressed a hard kiss to her lips before seeming to reel himself in.
"Go ahead and get on the couch for me, yeah? I want you to be comfortable for me," he suggesting, letting his grip go on her waist and allowing her to scoot off his lap. She quickly moved to the corner of the couch closest to the door. She slipped her shoes off and folded her legs underneath her, tucking herself into cushions. She felt herself lose the nerve she thought she had when she decided to initiate their intimacy. Now knowing that she was actually going through with it, made her nervous and jittery the same way she had been the day she went to visit him at the shop for the first time.
Harry followed, slowly behind her. He didn't want to overwhelm her and make her feel uncomfortable with his crowding presence. She felt awkward, not knowing what to do now that he was sat next to her with the promise of what he called "licking into her". Was she just supposed to throw her skirt and all off and just let him have at it or did he have something special he wanted to do? She knew what was coming next, but how were they supposed to get there?
Harry seemed to know exactly what she was thinking, softly setting a hand on her lower thigh. He squeezed the width of it, a gentle smile on his face. "We can jus' kiss for a little and see where it takes us, if that makes y'feel better. We don't have to jump right in, okay? Jus' wanna make y'feel good," he reiterated, constantly reminding her of his priority being her comfort and pleasure.
She eagerly nodded her head at his suggestion, clumsily climbing on his lap. His hand found its favorite spot on the side of her jaw, his thumb rubbing sweet circles on her cheek with his fingers tucked into her hair. He gazed at her with the most loving look in his eyes, just holding her. "You're so gorgeous, m'sweet girl. Love y'so much, so much."
He pulled her down to him, starting her with sweet, single kisses. He gently guided her through, allowing her to deepen and retract as she pleased. Soon enough, (Y/N) could feel his bulge straining against his jeans again and pressing against the inside of her thigh. She whined at the feeling; loving the reminder that she could effect him that way, just as he did to her.
"Y'feel that, baby? Y'feel what to do to me?" Harry groaned, taking her hand she had placed on his chest and gently holding it against his prick, "You're so sexy, m'love. I want you so bad."
(Y/N)'s brows furrowed, her face scrunching at the sound of his words and the feel of his thickness under her hand. She wanted him, she couldn't worry about it being "awkward" or not knowing what to do anymore. She needed Harry; his touch, his hands, his mouth, his intimacy. And he needed her.
"I want you, please," (Y/N) whimpered, tightening the hand in his hair. Harry mimicked her in his facial expression, groaning into her mouth as he continued to kiss her.
"Okay, okay, angel. Go ahead and spread your legs a little, okay? I'll take care of the rest, m'love," Harry crooned. She slid off his lap, following his words. Harry silently slid off the edge of the couch landing in from of her parted legs. He splayed his fingers over her knees, massaging the area.
She felt kind of silly, sitting in front of as he's all fully clothed, while she was sat with her skirt up and her panties showing. They weren't even sexy panties, which made it worse. They were this cotton, white pair with little pastel colored bunnies decorating the fabric. She felt silly; you could visibly see the difference in them. How could Harry in his cool black clothing, and intense tattoos and mysterious, hard exterior be about to eat out his girlfriend wearing bunny underwear?
Harry didn't seem to pay her embarrassment any mind as he sat looking at her with the sweetest, most gentle eyes. If she hadn't known any better, with him looking like that, she would have never though he'd be about to eat her out.
"Y'still feel okay, baby? Want to keep goin?" His constant seeming of consent made her feel so comfortable; she knew that if at anytime she decided she didn't want to follow through anymore, he'd stop in a heartbeat.
"Yes, please," she squeaked.
"I need y'to open your legs more then, yeah? Let me get between them so I can do m'job." His tone was lighthearted, like his job wasn't that of what he had promised.
(Y/N) tentatively spread her legs open for him. Her hands fisted at her shirt, her face flushed at the idea of Harry getting to gaze upon the one spot no one had ever seen on her before. And she was so wet; wet enough she's positive that she had soaked through the fabric of his underwear, like it was trying to show off just for Harry.
"Fuck, love. You're so wet," he awed. His words came out in breaths, like he was straining to keep collected. "All for me, baby? All 'cause of me?"
"Yeah," she bleated. Her cheeks heated further, the same heat traveled down her neck and to her chest. She refused to look at him, instead directing her gaze to the cork board he had posted on the wall behind him. She looked over the papers and drawings and anything else he had put on there, not paying attention or giving thought to any of it, just using it as a distraction.
"Hey, (Y/N), look at me. We don't have to finish, jus' because we've started." His voice was firm and direct, yet still flooded with soft undertones.
"No, I want to! I'm just embarrassed, cause of...you know." She didn't want to point out the fact he could see her sticky wetness through the cotton or even just the fact her underwear was at eye level with him.
"Don't be embarrassed, angel. I like your panties. They're very cute." His smile was lopsided, accompanying his slightly teasing tone.
She let out an embarrassed whine, her hands covering her face at his words. "Stop it! I wasn't planning on letting you see them so I didn't dress up," she cried, hoping he wouldn't mention it again.
"Baby, 'm sorry. I didn't mean it, I jus' think you're so cute. Y'don't need lacy panties for me to think you're sexy. You're sexy exactly as y'are," Harry cooed pressing kisses to the tops of her thighs, "Thank you for even letting me see y'like this. I love you, so much. So much."
"I love you, too," she admitted back, peeking out from behind her hands. He reached up and grabbed her arm and pulling to him as he slid down her to hand. He pressed a kiss to the top of her hand, something that always makes her feel good. It eases her, especially since it's something she's used to.
His fingers tangled between her's, giving her something to ground her (and he just wanted to hold her hand). His attention diverted back to the sight before him. Not thinking much of it, he started littering kisses on the inside of her thighs, feeling the soft skin against his lips. He watched her reaction, slowly working his kisses up further and further. When he looked up at her, she could see some tendrils of hair having escaped his bun and framing his face like he was some sort of prince.
Soon enough he was at the very peak of her mound. Leaning down, Harry kisses her right over her clit, his eyes finding her's to gauge her reaction. A hitched breath escapes her, not expecting him to just jump in and make contact, assuming him to have taken off her underwear first. She whimpered at the tiniest pressure from his lips relieving her (from both her nerves and the nagging coil in her tummy begging for release) for a second. "That alright?"
She jerkily nodded her head, hoping he would continue and do more. Instead, Harry squeezes her hand, a pointed look on his face as he rested his cheek on her soft thigh. "No, love, words. I need to know for sure how y'feel, yeah?"
"Yes, it feels good. Do it again, please?" Her voice rushed and strained in a way she'd never heard before. Harry brings characteristics and traits out of her she'd never expect from herself.
He obliged, pressing another firm kiss on her clit, feeling the wet patch right on the edge of his bottom lip, wetting his chin. The pressure made a sigh leave (Y/N)'s lips, encouraging Harry to go further. And he does. As he kisses, he starts going further down, exploring the offering in front of him. He stops right as he gets to the center of the damp spot, where her wetness had leaked out the most. (Y/N) hears him take a deep breath, before planting another deep kiss right over the patch of her wet. His eyes dropped closed, a hummed groan escaping him. "Y'smell so good, angel. Fucking incredible."
Harry's free hand that had been laid on her knee then disappeared. She didn't pay much attention to what he was up to as he was literally kissing her pussy and telling her how incredible she smelled, but soon she heard what she thought could have been his zipper. Her assumptions were confirmed when he started seeing his bicep flexing and moving in a motion that could only suggest that he was jerking himself off while tasting her. She was living up to his expectations to the point that he couldn't wait and had to touch himself while licking her. Now that caused a loud moan to leave her mouth.
Harry himself groaned into her wet spot, both from her reaction and feel of his hand on his prick. "Y'sound so sexy. Fuck, my love."
"Thank you," she absentmindedly squeaked, her breath heaving. It is a compliment right?
"You're so cute," he laughed a little, still never fully pulling away from her panty covered core. She could feel his voice and the vibrations through the fabric, causing her to whimper.
Unexpectedly, the flat of Harry's tongue licks up the whole of her pussy. The very faint taste of her coming through the fabric was driving him crazy. He needed to taste her right from the source, and get the whole experience of licking into her cute, little cunt (although he would never refer to it as such to her, not wanting to be too vulgar in front of her. He figures that might have gone out the window as soon as he buried his face between her legs, though).
"Darling, I need to taste you, please. Y'taste so good, I can't get enough. Can I please take them off?" he practically begged. (Y/N) didn't understand how he could still be the dominant character here while begging for her to allow him to taste her.
"Yes, please. I want—I need more," (Y/N) whimpered, reading to just rip her underwear off at the seams to get them out of the way. Although she did appreciate the way he waited for permission in everything, especially her state of undress, she just wanted to feel him fully at this point and she didn't want to wait.
Harry pulls away with a parting lick, freeing both his hands for a moment. He slipped his thumbs beneath the fabric over her hips, glancing up at her for a moment before he pulled them down. "Jus' tell me if y'want to stop okay? This is about you. I jus' want y'to feel good, m'love."
"Okay, okay, I promise! Please keep going," she whined, desperate to have him on her again.
He slid them down with a smirk on his face at her reaction. He took them down to her ankles, and slipping them off her feet before he looks up at the now exposed pussy waiting for him. Sitting back on his heels, Harry thinks he almost lost his breath. He knew that (Y/N) was going to have a pretty little pussy, as there's no way she wouldn't with how pretty the rest of her is, but this? Oh this, was probably the most precious sight he'd ever seen. Her pussy all glistening and wet for him, just waiting for his return. All for him, and only him. He's not sure if it's because he's so in love with her or that this is her first time ever—that she's just allowed him the privilege to take care of—but he thinks he's just seen his last meal and he couldn't wait to have it.
He didn't think he was taking too long of a moment admiring her, but he figures it had to have gotten to (Y/N) as she closed her thighs tightly. He looked to her face seeing her hands having returned there to cover her embarrassed flush. He didn't mean to make her self conscious, he just wanted to admire the art for a moment.
He placed both of his hands on her knees again, ready to open her legs again. "No, love, you're so beautiful. Don't be embarrassed, okay? I jus' can't believe 'm the first to see this. I love you."
(Y/N) moved her hands from her eyes, leaving them to cover just the bottom half of her face. "You think so?" She questioned between the gaps in her fingers.
"Of course, baby. You're so beautiful. I can't wait to taste all of you," he crooned, a gravel to his voice like he's just woke up.
(Y/N) silently spread her legs for him, allowing him to slide his hands from her knees to the underside of her thighs. With a swear under his breath, Harry tightened his grip on her thighs and threw them over her shoulders. His hands slid around; his palm laying flat over the top with his fingers flexing against the soft inside next to his head and elbow now cradling the outside.
Without much of a preface, Harry dove right in. His tongue wiggled in between the lips, tasting the wet slickness the way it was supposed to be tasted. And fuck was it so good; so sweet, and pure, and innocent even. He didn't even know innocence could have a taste! But it was everything to him right now.
(Y/N) let out a petite moan, half obscured by her fingers still over her mouth. The wet of his tongue against her most sensitive spot, took her somewhere she didn't even know existed. She'd never felt anything like this before and she doesn't know how she could ever live without this after; no wonder everyone's always on about all of this stuff!
Harry licked his way through, savoring the taste. His eyes were closed, completely focused on everything her. His chin covered in her wet as he took to her clit. He pet at the small peek with the flat of his tongue.
"Oh my gosh!" She moaned, the feel of his tongue getting her just perfect. It was everything she wanted from him. Her tummy and thighs clenching, Harry never stopping his ministrations.
"Y'like that, baby? Does that feel good?" he groaned, pulling away. His fingers flexed against her skin in reaction, grounding her and catching her attention amidst the pleasure.
"Yeah. Oh, Harry," she whined, her fingers coming up and covering her mouth. She felt so much energy in her veins and she didn't know what to do, she just wanted to cum but also never let this end. Harry mumbled a curse against her at the sound of her whining of his name, vibrating against her clit.
Her moans kept coming through, much less open and loud as they were just a moment ago. Harry opened his eyes, his mouth still attached to her clit, now sucking, as he gazed onto her face. Her eyes were scrunched closed in ecstasy, the fingers of one hand covering her mouth and obscuring the sounds Harry was hanging on. The other hand was sat next to her fisting at the fabric of the couch, tightening at the strokes of his tongue. It wasn't until she let out another sweet, quiet moan that Harry felt he had to say something.
Pulling back from her pussy and placing a kiss to the skin above before speaking lowly to her, "Y'still doing okay, baby? I need to hear you, so I know 'm doing a good job, yeah? So I know y'feel good."
She whined at the loss of contact, rushing out a quick Okay to appease him. Her fingers stayed over her mouth, making no move to listen to him. Harry trailed his own fingers along the inside of her thigh, giving a tickling feeling to tease her. He hummed displeased noise before continuing, "Give me your hand, love. Gotta stop covering your mouth."
(Y/N)'s quick to obey him, letting him take ahold of the one previously covering her mouth. He laces her fingers in his hair, not allowing her to be able to cover her mouth anymore without him knowing right away.
Pleased with her reaction, Harry resumes, sucking her clit and dipping his tongue into her hole just the tiniest bit. Her fingers tugging his hair, moaning his name. With her eyes closed and distracted by his tongue, (Y/N) barely misses the feel of Harry's hand leaving her thigh and reaching down towards his cock again. He hisses against her, pulling back and moving his other hand towards her pussy. He wet his fingers and rubbed her clit, allowing himself to just look at her as he fucked his hand. All of his wet dreams were finally coming true, now he just wanted to see her cum. He replaced his fingers on her clit with his month, trailing his fingers to her hole and gently dipping his fingertip in and circling around.
"Are y'close, angel? I want you to cum, I need you to," Harry crooned, his fingers still playing.
With both of those things tugging at her tummy, (Y/N)'s grip tightened in his hair. She jerkily nodded her head, "I'm gonna cum, H. Please."
She didn't quite know what she was begging for, but whatever it is she knew she wanted it. Harry moves his fingers back to her clit, circling and rubbing as he talked to her, "C'mon, sweetheart, cum for me. I love y'so much. Let me taste it, baby."
His fingers never stopped, causing her most breathless, loud moan to come out of her mouth. Harry squeezed his prick at that one, listening to her declare one last time that she was about to cum. He put his mouth back to her as the coil in her tummy came loose. Whines of his name came out as her fingers tugged on the roots of his hair, pulling him closer to her clit. Harry licked up all she had to offer, riding her through the orgasm, and tasting all of it. He moved his hand away, letting his mouth take over, and pet at her tummy.
The small tremors of her afterglow wore off soon enough. Her once tightly strung body, fell limp; her fingers let go off of the hold in Harry's hair, her thighs relaxed, and her shoulders dropped.
"Y'okay, love? Was that good for you?" Harry crooned, letting her come down and relax. Her eyes stayed shut, humming a confirmation noise. She smiled at her, pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh.
Her eyes drifted open, seeing Harry sat back on his heels. His hair mussed from her fingers, more tendrils and baby hairs free from his scrunchie. His eyes were still blown out with lust. "D-did you finish?" She stutters, her breath slowly coming back to her lungs.
"Y'saw me, huh? Didn't think y'noticed," he smirked, not feeling at all on the spot, "But no, I didn't."
Her eyes widened a little bit at that, surprised that in all the pleasure she was feeling, he didn't allow himself to as well. "Do you want to? I-I can do something for you if you want," (Y/N) offered, her voice small, "I want you to cum, too"
"Just lay there f'me, yeah? It's all I need, darling. You've got me already s'close," he rasped, kneeling up to her. His eyes drifted down from hers and to his prick pulled out of his pants, leaking precum.
This being the first time (Y/N)'s ever seen a cock, she wasn't expecting it to be so... pretty? She always assumed they'd be something scary, but (maybe it's just cause it's Harry, she doesn't know) it was pretty. The head matched the pink of his lips, and the way it looked with his hands wrapped around the shaft made her feel so heart eyed for him. And it was so big. She should have known, with all the times she would feel his bulge against her, or even just the fact that, of course, everything about Harry would be perfect, including this.
She wanted to see him cum, too.
His eyes glanced up at her's a lazy smile on his face. "Y'want me to cum for you, baby?"
"Yeah," She bleated, her voice high strung at his words. The feeling tremors of her orgasm caning just a the sound of his voice.
"Y'do, yeah? Can I cum on your tummy, angel?" Harry continued, his hand moving f against his cock. His thumb swiped against the pinked tip, spreading the precum around and slicking him. She jerkily nodding her head, willing to give him anything she wanted in that moment.
He scooted closer, resting the tip against her lower stomach. He tapped it against her skin a couple time, listening to the wet thump against her. He breathed a moan, sliding his hand up and squeezing occasionally.
"You've got me so close love. I love your pretty pussy and your moans, so much. I love y'so much," he groaned, praising her and drawing himself closer, "Love, I need y'to do one more thing for me, yeah?"
"Anything," she squeaked, eyes fixed in the way he was moving his hand. She wanted to give him everything he wanted, right then. His head rolled back with his eyes closed, his hand jerking quicker.
"Call me daddy, angel," his hand squeezed just at the mention of the word, "I jus' need y'to say it once and that's it. Baby, I need it."
She can't say she ever thought him to be into something like that, but the way he said it and practically begged her to say it, made her closer to coming again herself. She didn't even know what to say, but she just wanted to please him and make him cum. She looked up to his face, looking like he was almost in pain as he waited for her.
"Please, daddy." She begged, her eyes rounding out as he sang praises and swear words at her voice. His hand quickened, mumbling something to himself that she couldn't hear. He moved in short bursts, tapping his tip against her skin again.
"Oh fuck," he groaned, his muscles tightening just as the first burst of his cum came through. The warm streaks painted her skin, just barely missing the hem of her crop top. His breathing was heavy as he jerked out the rest of his cum, giving her everything she had just given him. And she caused that; he felt that way all because of her and how he reacted to her. She decided next time this happened, she wanted to taste it.
Once he was drained, he fell down to the couch next to her. His forehead rested on her shoulder, his breaths hitting her bare skin. "Y'did s'good, m'love, s'good. I love y'so much."
He laid with her for a few more moments before pressing a kiss to her bicep and getting up from the couch. He tucked himself back into his pants, and picked up her panties from the floor. "I'll be right back, okay? I jus' need to grab something to clean y'up."
He left the office with a promise to be back quick, taking her panties with him as he didn't want to make her put her wet underwear back on. (Y/N) barely had time to think about the cum on her tummy getting cold before he was back with a wet washcloth he had to have gotten from the tattooing supplies. He sat next to her again, wiping away his cum. Once clean, he flipped her skirt back down over her privates. He squeezed her thigh and looked up to her, seeing her looking still all fucked out.
"Y'feel okay, m'sweet girl? Y'look a little gone," he cooed, placing his hand on her cheek.
"Yeah," she breathed, holding the wrist of the hand on her face, "I love you so much, Harry."
Harry cooed to her, reciprocating her sentiment and kissing her sweetly on her mouth, and rubbed their noses together. She kept brushing her hair out of her face, feeling overwhelmed with having him all over her and her hair obscuring everything. He pulled away, pulling his hair out of the scrunchie, before using it to pull her's back.
"That better, love?" he asked, smoothing her hair back. She nodded her head, still in her love daze with all his touching and attentiveness. "Sorry we didn't go to dinner. We got a little distracted, huh?"
She laughed at his teasing, "It's okay, I'm happy we stayed in."
"Yeah? Me too," he agreed, kissing her one more time before standing up from the couch, "Let's go home, okay? We'll get y'into some warm clothes and I'll make dinner."
He could have suggested they go into a burning building and she would have agreed without a second thought.
"Yeah, lets go home."
—————
"H, you need to pay attention. They're trying to talk to you," (Y/N) whispered, grabbing at Harry's hand he had planted on her waist.
Adam, Mitch, Clare, and Sarah were all sat around (Y/N)'s living room. Much like the first time they met, pizza boxes sat on the coffee table with everyone interacting. Very different from the first time, though, is that Harry's talking. But only to her. He's wrapped himself all around her, cuddling her to him with one arm around her waist and the other on the thigh farthest from him. He kept whispering to her sweet nothings and planting kisses on her face. She could hear Mitch trying to talk to him about something with the tattoo parlor, but Harry couldn't bother to answer with more than three words.
Harry pressed a kiss to the space right before her ear, "I don't care. I jus' want you right now. You're so pretty."
She blushed at his sentiment, allowing him one kiss on her lips before pulling back. "Pay attention, okay? We haven't all hung out in so long."
Harry had just started quietly whine when Clare interrupted him, "H, shut up. I'm trying to ask you something."
Harry huffed, a flash of the guy (Y/N) knew before her Harry. He angled his body towards the rest of the room, waiting for Clare to continue. "What?"
"I wanted to know if you have another song ready. I've been talking to my uncle's friend, and he said we can use that studio if we're serious about it," Clare said, bringing up something (Y/N) had no knowledge about.
"Yeah, let me get m'book." Harry stood up from the couch, squeezing her waist before going to his stuff he brought with him.
Harry wrote music? Since when?! As far as (Y/N)'s known, Sarah is the only one that's had any type of interest in music other than listening to it. Harry's her boyfriend, someone she's shared parts of herself with that no one else has, and somehow the fact that he's a songwriter just never came up? And this talk about going to a studio? So they all have enough together to go record songs and put out a record?
She should've known Harry would be into this, he can do everything so why couldn't he be an aspiring songwriter?
"You write music? You never told me that," (Y/N accused, Harry walking past her to hand the open book to Clare.
"You never told her, H?" This time it was sarah to ask.
"I guess it never really came up, I don't know," Harry explained, sitting back down beside her, shrugging with a shy smile before putting his arm around her. How cute, (Y/N) thinks, usually she's the one that gets blushy and now it's his turn.
"You're going to record stuff, too?" She pressed, surprised at how far along they seem to be in the process.
"Yeah, Harry's got us at least a couple of albums worth of songs together. We've just been waiting for the right time and the right sound, and all that stuff," Adam explained, reaching for a slice of pizza.
Albums? A couple of albums? Harry's been busy writing apparently so much music in between working and being with her. How did he find the time since she's practically always with him?
"Oh wow. Do you sing?" She asked pointed towards Adam. He laughed at that, eating his pizza and nodding towards Harry instead of answering.
"I actually am the singer. Sarah does drums, Mitch in guitar, Clare on piano, and Adam plays bass. Although, I can do all of that, too, I decided to let everyone else have their spot," Harry teased, a nudge from Mitch next to him at his remarks.
"You sing too? There has to be something you're not good at," (Y/N) awed, singing his praises.
Before Harry could answer, Clare spoke up fro the first time since Harry gave her his notebook. "This might be your best yet, H. Another love song, huh?"
"Yeah, jus' coming easy right now."
"Oh, let me see," Sarah called, reaching for the book. Her eyes scanned quickly through the words on the page, with Mitch reading over her shoulder. Her eyes got big like when someone sees a cute puppy, and looked towards Harry. "This is so sweet, Harry. Who knew you could be so romantic?"
Harry laughed off her teasing, pulling (Y/N) closer to him by her waist. Sarah peeked around Harry's shoulder handing the book out towards her, "Do you want to read, (Y/N)? Is that alright, H?"
Harry nodded, taking the book and setting it in (Y/N)'s lap. "Be honest with what y'think okay?" Harry crooned, curving around her as he read back the song with her. The others went back to talking to one another, seeming to be making plans with this studio time.
Clare and Sarah were definitely right with how sweet and beautiful the song was. It crooned about an angel with all this floaty, ethereal wording about an eternal love. She could already hear it in her head. And it's from Harry; he sat down alone and wrote a love song.
"This is so good, Harry. You're so talented," Her voice quiet as she looked up at him. He looked at her the way she dreamed he would when they first met; his green eyes bright against his perfect eyeliner, dimples deep, and like how she imagines she looks at him.
He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, closing the book and placing it on the coffee table. "It's about you. All of them are," he whispered, "I wrote this one after the other night."
She blushed at the mention of their intimate moment together, but more so over the fact that he had dropped her off at home and he couldn't fall asleep without putting these words to paper.
The tiniest of tears collected in her eyes. "Really?" her voice watery as she laced her fingers with the hand that was placed on her leg.
"Yeah. You're my love, (Y/N)."
(Y/N) never thought she'd be here, finally in love and with an amazing guy she never thought could love her or saw herself with. She never wants to be without this, without him.
"You're my love, too."
She's free when she's with him. And she knows Harry feels the same.