Could We Maybe Have A Blurb With Y/N’s Reaction To Pleasing? Thank You❤️

subrry with mommy kink and breastfeeding blurb? please?😩

"Mummy! Hurry up!" Harry shouted from the bed as he got into bed and rubbed at his eyes.

"Be patient," I called back and grinned as I heard him whining. Grabbing my floss, I flossed my teeth as quickly and thoroughly I could. Flashing my teeth at the mirror, I nodded satisfied, and shut off the light.

"Mummy," Harry cried as I walked into the bedroom. He made grabby hands at me.

"I'm coming, baby," I smiled and put my robe over the chair in the corner.

"Want milk," he whispered as he squirmed on the bed while rubbing his eyes again.

"Are you so sleepy tonight?" I asked as I pulled back the blankets on my side and slid under them. He always got a little emotional and extra needy when he was very tired.

Harry nodded. "Yeah," he replied and pouted as he moved closer.

Lying down on my side, I got comfortable before nodding. "Okay, come here," I said.

Immediately Harry put his mouth to one of my breasts and started suckling greedily.

"Take it easy, baby. Going to get a tummy ache," I whispered as I ran my fingers through his hair.

Harry blinked up at me before slowing down and suckling a little slower.

"Good boy," I told him while grabbing the blankets and covering us more.

Sighing happily, Harry switched over to my other breast and started suckling on that. His hand loosely holding me close, his fingers occasionally twitching against my back.

Closing my eyes, I let him suckle away as we slowly feel asleep.

Tales From the Modern Incubus Part 12*

Summary: You’re still hiding in 1986 with Harry and you learn some important information about your real parents and their intentions for you. But Michael, Lilith, Hannah, and Asmodeus are having issues finding you, which could complicate their plan.

A/N: Remember, this is demon/incubus!Harry so there may be some triggering topics. Please read all warnings in the TFMI Masterlist before continuing.

Warning: Smut, demons and angels plotting, mentions of blood, mention of torture, mentions of spells and incantations, religious themes

Characters List

Part 11*

Part 12*

Angels and demons have a lot more in common than most people realize (some probably don’t know that they are alike at all). People who practice or put their values in the Abrahamic faiths would assume that angels are good and demons are bad. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, all original and high demons were once angels. Angels are fallible and just as predisposed to sin and immorality as demons and humans are. In fact many demons who walk the realms are half human and half demon. They didn’t choose their fate, nor did they do anything to be born of a demon, but once they are born, they are automatically a demon by blood with no say to the contrary. The stain of their parent is on them forever and therefore they are painted ‘bad’ by human standards and that is perpetuated by people who read and believe the Bible, which The Almighty does nothing to correct. By contrast, many angels who walk the realms are also only half angel. But, because of their blood, they are given the mark of good by humanity without further thought to whether they’re actually good or bad (which would be determined by their actions and not their bloodline – but humans are naturally quite prejudiced so it’s easier to just say an angel is good and a demon is bad).

Angels and demons are also alike in that they are physically superior to humans in every way. Not only are they more beautiful and alluring (despite what may have been said about how ugly and scary demons are – yet another lie The Almighty does nothing to stop), but they are also extremely strong and can outperform any elite athlete. Their stamina is incredible, and they can be unstoppable under the right circumstances, especially because they also don’t need to sleep. Resting is good, but sleep is never necessary. The original angels created were meant to be helpers and workers for The Almighty. He wanted his workers to be strong and never tire of their job.

They are also extremely intelligent with highly developed cerebral cortexes and the ability to retain and learn faster and more efficiently than humans. This was useful to The Almighty as well. A perceptive and sharp worker is ideal for any type of job, especially when dealing with humans.

And, of course, with all of that in mind, both angels and demons rarely tire of sex. Physically, they can keep going until they’ve had their fill. Angels and demons have a greater appetite for sex than humans do and they do it better as well. Humans enjoy sex too, a lot. It drives much of the way they think and do things. But it can’t be compared to the way angels and demons get around from one being to another. They’re all beautiful whores.

So, to say that you and Harry had a long night together the first time you had sex, well, that’s an understatement. You lost your virginity with the biggest bang ever. You and Harry went on for nearly twelve hours. There were a couple of breaks where you talked and went to the bathroom and rehydrated, but there weren’t clothes involved and you were both sticky and smelly by the time Aim contacted you two.

Harry was just about to come again and you were wobbly and out of your mind from your last orgasm. You were holding onto the couch, bent over as Harry was hammering himself inside of you. He’d also introduced a thumb into your bum to prep you for his cock so you were both working on that. It was something he told you that you’d like and of course, the way his digit felt inside of you as you peaked and clenched over his cock you knew he was right. He’d really used your cunt for hours (just as you’d used his cock) and so when he suggested trying anal and sunk his thumb in while he was mid-fuck, you saw stars and Jesus and you cried out in praise of Harry’s name when you creamed on him.

The phone rang and you both looked over at the ancient, corded device on the wall as it trilled loudly and shook itself in the receiver. Harry looked down to where he was stuffed inside of you and closed his eyes.

“Fuck!” Harry growled and pulled himself out of you. His cock was hard and he had to hold himself as he walked across the room to answer the phone. You collapsed your body onto the couch and closed your eyes for a moment.

“’Lo?” Harry stood at the wall and looked over at you, hips draped over the arm of the couch, tummy down with your face in the cushion, your naked ass pink and bruised and his, he smiled.

Aim’s voice sounded far away through the speaker, “Harry, I can’t stay on long. We’ve found out some interesting things and I’ll be coming to tell you about it in person. You two are safe there for now so you’ll stay where you are for the time being. Expect to see me in five hours.” And then the call ended.

Harry felt relief that you were both safe. He returned to you on the couch, still holding his cock in hand and you twisted to look up at him, your hair a mess.

“Aim said we’re safe for now. He’ll be here in about five hours to give us some information. You okay?” Harry leaned over your back and smoothed his palms over your bottom where he’d bitten you, spanked you, pinched you…

You smiled widely and turned over, exposing your breasts and tummy and the bit of hair between your legs that was coated in come (both yours and his). You had little marks all over your body. Harry was a bit rough but you were a hybrid and you could handle it and you turned out to be just as rough as he was. You put a hand up to Harry’s clavicle and scraped your nail over the scratches you’d left on him. His cock was red hot and throbbing still.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt better in my whole life. Gonna get that back inside of me? Finish yourself off? I know you were so close.” You gestured toward his thick erection as you spread your legs for him. Harry groaned and squeezed your tits as he buried himself back into your pretty pussy. Every time he plunged into you it never failed to make him gasp in shock. Your cunt was made for him (or maybe his cock was made for you?) and he had no idea how he’d gone his whole life without this feeling.

“Fuck, Harry. You feel so good inside of me. Give me your come… Mmm… yeah… fuck it like that. Come on… want it to fill me up. Shit…” you had no shame with your words during sex. You caught on quick to what Harry liked. Lots of praise, lots of encouragement, plenty of dirty words and orgasms… you were better than anyone Harry had been with, and he’d been with countless people. You were still learning but he was obsessed with how eager you were and he couldn’t love you more than he did. You were perfect.

Harry was nearly snarling, his muscles working his thighs to rail into you. You kept speaking, “Love that big cock, Harry. I love you. Fuck… you’re really deep like that. Need your come, Harry…” and you did want his come. It was like somehow it gave you life and made you feel like one. The more he poured into you, the closer you felt to him. It was like he was leaving traces of himself inside of you and you wanted more.

He grunted and moaned loudly when he released inside of you for the, well, you both had lost count of how many times, but it was a lot. He came inside of you and on you all night and into the morning. It’s why you were so sticky. You had dried come on your legs, your tummy, your hair, your tits… And Harry was just as dirty as you were. You’d smeared yourself all over him (at his request at first) so he could smell like you all night. His arm hair was matted to his flesh with your dried arousal, his knees and thighs the same. He had your juice dried all over his neck, ears, and his hands… You two were probably due for a shower.

Harry collapsed over you and sighed, “I love you. Fuck…” he breathed hard and kept himself inside of you. He’d been quite liberal with the use of the ‘L’ word. He’d found someone that could handle him. He’d had sex with other demons before, but never someone he had feelings for so this was different. He’d had round after round of sex with the same being many times, but not like this. He could keep going and going and so could you.

You ran your fingers through his sweaty hair and brought his hand up to your mouth to kiss. It smelled like you and you laughed softly to yourself. You wrapped your legs around Harry’s waste and squeezed him closer to your body. Harry’s face was in your neck and he let out a muffled moan before pushing himself up to look down at you, his messy girl.

The black of your eyes had gone, as Harry’s had. Now his eyes were that beautiful soft and light flecked green that had you weak in the knees. He brought his hand, that you’d been kissing, over your lips and swiped his thumb at your tongue. You tasted yourself on him, it was the thumb he’d had inside your ass. You giggled as you kept your tongue out and he pushed it into your mouth as he smiled broadly at you.

“Suck.” He said as he watched your lips wrap around his thumb and you felt him still hard and long inside of you as he began to move his hips upward again. You rolled your eyes into the back of your head at how good it felt.

You were both incredibly wet between your legs so when Harry’s thrusts began to get a little harder it sounded like wet sex in the room. Slippery and drippy. You’d also learned you were a squirter. But, obviously you were. Harry’s big cock hit your g-spot, rubbed into it firmly once he was seated inside of you, and then he pushed into other things inside of you and if he angled himself just right and then pulled out you’d squirt all over the place. He'd done it to you the first time when you were riding him. You felt the pressure, something different than just the build of an orgasm, a really deep pressure and then he lifted you off his cock and you poured over his tummy and his dick and his groin, down to his balls. Then he did it again and put his face over your pussy so he could drink it and swallow it down. He didn’t want to waste any of your juices.

But now his large dick was stuffed nicely inside of you and he rolled into you hard. Your mouth went slack and you exposed your neck as your eyes went black again. Harry kept his thumb in your mouth and you went back to sucking on it after the initial moment of bliss. Harry was going in a brutal pace now and your pussy gripped his cock harshly. The way he massaged your walls as he spread you apart felt like love and everything good in the world. You smiled around his thumb as you felt him deep in your body. You felt him attach his mouth and bite into your neck as he sucked, bruising you up right away. He licked over your salty sweaty skin and bit down again, an inch lower, creating another small wound from his teeth that made you bleed just a little. He loved how your blood tasted. He wasn’t a vampire or anything like that, but he liked a little blood now and then. Especially yours.

When he moved his lips to the other side of your neck and bit down on a recent mark you came. The pain zipped down your neck and over your breasts, giving you goosebumps as your orgasm fell over you. You also learned you enjoyed a little pain. Actually, you really enjoyed a little pain. Harry found that it made you come really fast, not that he wanted to rush sex with you but he was amazed by how you responded to it.

Harry cried out when you bit down on his thumb and scratched his back, ripping the flesh under your nails and he spilled inside of you. This was a quick round. Many of them were. There were some rounds that went on for a lot longer where you both took your time and switched positions (Harry showed you all kinds of way you could be fucked).

You both panted and Harry removed his thumb and kissed your mouth. Could you call this romantic? It felt like the most romantic night (and morning) you’d ever get in your life. You used to imagine romance as a sweet date night out somewhere and then a kiss at the end of the night, and if you were married a nice love-making session, maybe a bath and flowers. But this? A sweaty, dirty, painful, all-nighter filled with orgasms and bruises and come… This was your ideal now. Nothing else would do. Your body was spent but every single time your lips met and your gazes locked you were ready to go again. Harry too. Your libidos were matched perfectly. Even though Harry was half-human, half-demon, his demon-type was incubus, which made his libido higher than most demons or angels. And for you, your father was Asmodeus, the demon of lust and debauchery. You were your father’s daughter by blood and so you and Harry had that in common with one another. Already libidinous, both of you being supernatural, but your specific demon types made your thirst for the carnal something very intense.

After a necessary shower and you both had been cleaned and finally ate something, Aim arrived to give you the news in person. He couldn’t tell you on the phone line because a call from the year 2022 to 1986 used very specific rituals that altered existence and time, which could be uncovered by high demons and angels. The shorter the call the better.

You all sat in the living room together. Aim was dressed sharp again, a suit and tie, expensive shoes, and a Patek Philippe watch on his wrist.

“You two have enjoyed 1986 I gather?” He sniffed the air and shook his head as he breathed out a laugh. The smell of sex would linger for some time. You two had sex on nearly every surface in every room.

“Yes. Not that we’ve gotten out much.” Harry laughed at his obvious inuendo, “What do you have, Aim?” You tried not to feel embarrassed about it, all the sex Aim knew you’d had and the way it smelled, it had been quite apparent. But you knew there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Those feelings were remnants of your earthly upbringing, slowly fading away. You were taught that sex was shameful and something to be hidden and never talked about. But now you were realizing that sex wasn’t shameful. It was beautiful and it’s what made the world go round. Without sex, there would be no life.

“Tamie has given them your name, Harry. She had to. Or she would be facing the same fate you might be if they find you. That means you are being hunted, which we figured was going to happen anyway. However, they did release her, not without some severe consequences to her holding off as long as she could. She likely saved your life by buying you time. She endured some serious torture at the hands of your real mother.” Aim shook his head and sighed.

“What? My mother? Isn’t she an angel?” You asked.

Aim lifted his brows toward you and nodded, “Yes. She is a high angel. But there’s something you’ll learn very soon, and that is that all angels and demons are capable of hurting and helping just the same. Not one is worse than the other. I’m surprised she let Tamie go, to be quite honest.”

You looked up a Harry who had sat next to you on the ugly brown sofa with a cream and orange flower pattern fabric covering it. You would need to protect him. Whatever it took. If someone hurt Harry…

“So, here’s what Tamie has told us… Your real parents wanted to create a powerful hybrid being who would know humanity well. Grow up among humans, learn with the humans, and feel like a human. Then, at the age of 25, Y/n, you were meant to meet the son of Michael and Lilith. Another very powerful hybrid. He’s still on earth and as far as we know, unaware of his power, just like you were until Harry came around. Which means you’ve got a bit of a head start. Michael and Lilith’s son is named Adam. He’s meant to be your mate. You two would then procreate and the most perfect and powerful being would then come to be and this being would be more powerful than even The Almighty himself. Or at least that’s what the idea was. Your supposed son or daughter would then be their ticket to overthrow all the kingdoms and take over power of all the realms. I believe that is their purpose in this.

“I don’t know how they intended to go about having you and Adam meet one day, but I’m sure they had a specific plan in place. Tamie didn’t get all the details but, we did learn that the four of them are now on watch for you both. And anyone associated with you. So far, they haven’t approached anyone. They’re working the ground and gathering information. I’ve already been aware of the presence of Lilith and your real father on me. They are aware that Tamie has given us information. I don’t know why they haven’t just come and taken me or cornered me and questioned me on your whereabouts, but something tells me things are about to get a lot more intense and soon. I may consider hiding as well because I’m not sure I’m safe. I don’t think anyone is.”

Harry is silent. The look on his face says he’s deep in thought and you can feel the bit of worry coming from him. He’s worried about you and about himself. But now he’s also thinking about this Adam who is your intended mate. He can’t compete with a full hybrid, half high angel, half high demon, when he himself is only half demon and half human. He’s not going to be able to defend you, to save you, to keep you safe… and if you should choose to be with someone more powerful, well, Harry could easily be replaced. And he wouldn’t blame you. If he’s very honest, you deserve to be with someone more powerful than he is. Adam would probably be better for you. Sure, Harry is handsome, smart, great at conversation, funny, charming, and has a big dick, but he can’t compete with the kind of power that Adam would have. And, if you were to choose Adam and you decided to reproduce with him, you’d have the most powerful heir to exist and could potentially make history by leading the revolution to overthrow The Almighty. Choosing Harry and having his heir would create a somewhat-powerful being (less powerful than you because it would be mixed with incubus and human), but nothing like what you could with Adam. Not a very exciting historical moment in comparison. But he’s trying to stay focused and confident because even if he can’t compete, he won’t be going down without a fight. He’d do anything for you.

You take Harry’s hand and look at him, wanting to get his attention but he keeps his eyes forward on Aim. You know he’s a little upset. You sort of wish he wasn’t so sensitive but you’ll to reassure him again if necessary. When you look at his profile and smell his natural scent, he’s all you can think of and he’s the only one you want. You can’t imagine ever wanting someone the way you want him. You also don’t like the idea that you’d be pre-arranged to meet someone and have his child. You didn’t desire that kind of relationship, nor the power that seemed to come with it. You were going to make your own path and you were bringing Harry with you through it.

“So what now? Do we stay here? Should we move somewhere else? We can’t keep hiding forever.” Harry spoke and you could feel his heart pounding. For some reason you felt much calmer than he did. His reaction to this news was more of a concern to you than the actual news.

“Stay here for now. I have something else in the works for where you will go next. You may just keep hiding and jumping from year to year to keep safe for a while. But, Y/n… we will need to have you begin using your intuition and power for this. I may not be able to contact you at some point and you’ll have to be in-tune in order to protect yourself. You have the ability but it might be something you need to practice a little. Harry, you’re safe with her, for now. She can protect you better than I can.”

Aim left and the world felt quiet again, but Harry was trying not to spiral in his thoughts. He stood up and walked toward the window to look out. He didn’t want to lose you to someone else and he was worried what this meant for him. He’d gone after the wrong girl and now his life is in danger. Wrong girl or not, though, he wouldn’t be deterred too easily. He felt like he was already beginning to bond to you. But he couldn’t be sure. He’d never bonded with anyone before. A bond between two beings is far more severe than just love. Love isn’t final. It isn’t forever. People fall in and out of love just like angels and demons do. A bond is eternal. It’s unbreakable.

“I’m worried. I’ve never been in this kind of situation and not having control of the outcome feels suffocating. And Adam… if he sees you and feels your presence he’s going to want you and I can’t compete with that.”

You followed Harry to where he stood with his back to you and pushed your arms around him, kissing the wide plane of his back between his shoulder blades.

“Why are you worried about that? Do you not trust me?” You spoke as you turned your head, cheek to his back, so your words could come out clearly.

Harry turned to you and he put his hands up to your face, he had vertical frown lines between his eyes at the top bridge of his nose, “I trust you. I just don’t know that you’ll choose me over him. In the end. I wouldn’t blame you.”

You laughed softly and smiled at him, “Well, you’re going to just have to accept how I feel then, aren’t you? You kind of sound like you’re just giving up, assuming I’ll leave you for someone I’ve never even met. Maybe I’m just not worth the trouble to you now that you know I’m dangerous to be with. Perhaps dodging out now is best for you so you’re trying to make it look like it’s me who would choose someone other than you.”

You were bating him. You knew that wasn’t his intention but you figured turning it around on him could make him see things differently. It did. His grin and the dimple that appeared before he lowered his face to kiss your lips was all you needed to know. You wanted to see that man who was confident and captivating. His natural swagger and charm were attractive and that’s how you wanted to see him. You were glad he could voice his insecurities and be honest with you, but he didn’t need to feel insecure.

“Fuck that,” he spoke against your lips, “I’m not letting you go that easy. Just feeling like I couldn’t compete. You can choose who you want and I’ll do anything I can to make you want me over anyone else.” Harry stood up straight and looked over your head and then out the window, “Wanna get outta here for a little bit? See what’s in the area?”

Lilith had been following Aim. She knew he’d gone somewhere and used a specific incantation ritual that meant he’d time traveled. She couldn’t know where he went without cornering him and making him talk but she didn’t want to notify too many people of the problem. Kidnapping Aim or making him talk would be big news. Aim was a legion leader, not the most powerful of the Dukes of Hell, but an important leader and there would be upset demons. It would upset Lucifer. Satan wouldn’t care, and God couldn’t give two shits, but Lucifer was someone they had to deal with daily and it just wasn’t worth it to get him riled up. They needed to keep this quiet.

Especially because Hannah had already kidnapped a watcher and now that watcher was talking. Tamie was a loose thread, a threat to their plan. She should have been done away with. Having a missing watcher was easier than having one that was tortured and now spilling details. Lilith was annoyed at Hannah. Sure, it was a bad idea to kill a watcher or any being because it would draw attention, but it could be done without anyone being aware of it. At least not until things started to be put into motion.

Because Hannah let Tamie go, along with you aware of what was going on (before you should be aware of it) they were going to have to begin the phases of getting Adam ready. Michael wasn’t worried about Harry. A simple half incubus, he would not be a threat in the end. There was no way you’d not want Adam after seeing him and realizing his strength and power. Harry was attractive of course, as all incubi were, but Adam was something else altogether. He was quite the specimen and he’d be far more fit for you than Harry. You’d see it soon enough, or so they hoped. And if not, well, Harry would be dealt with and you’d never see nor hear from him again as soon as they got their hands on him anyway.

Which was another problem, they didn’t know where you and the incubus were. Lilith reported to Asmodeus that you were likely in another time period, being hidden away. With Harry. And if you bonded with Harry (what a tragic mistake that would be) it would be that much more difficult to get you to side with them. This entire thing was turning into a disaster and it was all because you were sniffed out by a horny incubus who became obsessed with you.

Hannah followed your earth parents but found that they also didn’t know where you were. In fact, Enzo and Gwyn had started asking around to find out if anyone knew of your whereabouts. They were astonished to find that even Amanda, your best friend, didn’t know where you were. And you hadn’t been answering your calls or texts. They immediately began suspecting Harry. He was a mystery to them, someone they didn’t know and hadn’t had a chance to really talk to. They wondered if he’d done something to you.

It had only been about a day and half that you’d been missing at this point so they thought maybe you’d still show up. But they were worried and none of your friends seemed to know where you were. Which told Hannah that you’d gone into hiding. Harry’s house was empty, and they kept their own watchers on the lookout there as well as at your parent’s house.

Michael had begun to get Adam ready. The first step in the process was to slowly allow the reveal of his powers. Like you, Adam had always had some extra receptive senses, which he’d grown used to all his life. But now the time had come to let him see a little more of what he could do. It was a bit too early for their plan, but now it was necessary.

Adam lived on the opposite coast of the United States to you. It was intentional that you both would meet at the age of 25, not before, at a job you’d both take at that time. You two would naturally be drawn to one another, both being hybrids with supernatural abilities, you’d both slowly come into your powers and learn about yourselves together and you’d bond over it. It would create a closeness and you’d both be inseparable. That was the plan anyway. And it would have worked. Had Harry not come into the picture.

But there was nothing they could do about you at the moment. They’d find you soon enough and work on convincing you to fall into their plan. First, they’d need Adam on their side and then they’d get rid of Harry once they found him.

You and Harry quickly learned that the neighborhood you were in didn’t have much around. The grocery store was walking distance from the house, there was an Italian deli next to the school, a church behind the park, a nearby interstate with loud traffic, a flower shop, and a gas station.

You and Harry sat in the park and ate sandwiches you’d gotten from the deli and you noticed that you two were getting a few weird looks. You weren’t dressed in anything too trendy but your clothes and probably your hair made you stick out a bit. The 80s style and the fit of the clothes were different than what you’d both been sporting.

“Don’t worry about them. They probably just think we’re from a different country or something. You can fake an accent like me and tell them you’re from London.” He laughed and crossed his long legs. You were both sitting in the grass and enjoying the sun as it went down.

You couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d do when you got back to the house. Sex was very new to you and liked it a lot. Your hormones were going crazy and Harry’s body and his voice, the smile he kept giving you, god you could just jump his bones right in front of everyone. So you pulled yourself to your hands and knees, forgetting all about the sandwich you were eating and crawled into Harry’s lap, making him sit his sandwich down. You straddled his thighs and put your arms over his shoulders and kissed him.

Harry was happy to give up his sandwich and his lap for you. He leaned back to give you more space as he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you back. You wrapped your lips around his and then slid your hands into his hair. Your heart was pounding and you didn’t care that anyone could see you making out in the grass. There were kids running around, people walking their dogs in the park so there was a decent amount of activity going on around you.

“Mmm… can we make ourselves invisible? Like what you did when you first met me? Have sex right here in front of everyone? Or will that be bad using our powers? Aim said to lay low…” You leaned back and looked at the handsome demon. The beautiful demon.

“Fuck. I don’t think we should, just in case. Maybe we’ll do that another time, though. Hmm? Wanna get my cock stuffed inside that little pussy right in front of everyone?” He bucked himself upward as he spoke and you sighed at the feeling. Knowing it was yours. All yours. You could wait until you were back at the bungalow to rip his clothes off if you needed to but you really wanted him now.

“Yes. That’s what I want. Right in front of everyone.” You rolled your hips down over Harry, “Maye we could even let everyone hear it. They’d be listening in to really hot, sex, some spanking maybe, and when we come they’d know they were hearing two people fucking, but just couldn’t see it. Wouldn’t know where it was coming from. God, doesn’t that sound hot?” You nudged yourself closer and Harry grasped your bottom.

“It sounds naughty. That’s going on the list of things to try at some point. Fuck. My dirty girl. Are you ready to go back to the house? Want more of me already?” Harry’s grin was salacious. His cock was already growing hard. “Yes, please. Feels like it’s been too long since you’ve been inside of me.”

Part 13*

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his hands.... H E L P

love on tour: the rival

if the moon smiled, she would resemble you – Sylvia Plath, ‘The Rival’

part one

harry and you are no longer together and it’s complicated.

read part one here

She felt inadequate.

She felt guilty, ashamed that she’d just up and left without any explanation. He deserved one, an explanation of what was going on in her head that she felt the need to leave. Though, she thought herself to be a coward when it came to that; communication. So now, standing in front of him, looking into his eyes, she still feels inadequate, almost like a cheater– like she’s just wasting his time.

She shakes her head, trying not to notice the defeat on his face. “I– we shouldn’t talk about this tonight. I’m here to support you–”

“–Bullshit,” he spits, fingers running through his damp hair. “You’re fucking me over. Coming here, showing up here… you’re fucking with my head.”

“I’m not doing anything! I’m here because I know this is important to you.”

“Yeah? Well, you fucked with my head, again. Like you always do… like you did the last time you left. I mean– fuck. I should hate you. You knew I’d get all pathetic and beg for you to come back to me because when have I ever stood a chance when it comes to you?”

“Harry…” she tries. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking– I only wanted to show some support. I’ll–” she looks around at the empty room, trying to locate her bag. No luck. “I’ll go.”

She turns around. Harry follows.

He lets out a bitter laugh. “Go,” he says, nodding. “You do a fantastic job at that.”

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WELCOME TO THE MASTERLIST FOR IN MY FEELINGS

what it is: you and harry hate one another, like really hate one another–but then you start fucking. 

based off of lana del rey’s song in my feelings. 

*completed*

*warning: the sex in this series is going to be rough and a little mean (choking, slapping, etc) so if that’s not your thing…beware*

✰=smut

in my feelings fits

playlist

moodboard

general masterlist

…………………………

part one

part two✰

part three✰

part four✰

part five✰

part six✰

part seven

between lightning and thunder|harry styles.

summary: he’s your best friend’s boyfriend, you have feelings for him, you know the drill.

“In thunderstorms, you count the seconds in between the lightning and thunder, the more you counted the furthest the lightning had struck. 5 seconds equals 1 mile. In matters of the heart, and considering this situation. The more you counted, the closer you were.” 

word count: 7k

pairing: Harry Styles x reader

warnings: alcohol mention, a bit sad, Little Prince, some songs. 

PART TWO: thunderstorms and shooting stars PART THREE: stars and fate

So, here’s my first official Harry Styles one shot (kind of two-part one shot), thanks to @peachybloomss and @laurieteddy for helping me out with beta reading. Yes, there will be part two if you guys want it. I’ll see if you like it, please send feedback, reblog, be kind. 

The rain pattered against the asphalt, now bright and dense, reflecting the tinkling lantern that barely gave an excuse of light to the street. There you were, in that corner, shading the sidewalk with those sneakers that used to be white. You were getting wet, that was an understatement, you  knew you would have a cold the very next day. You clutched your dark blue umbrella as you waited for a miracle.

Keep reading

Rocking the Boat | h.s.

a/n: @harrysbeanie this is your fault. you reblogged a post of those new pics of harry in the boat and your tag was “please fuck me in that boat” and now i can’t stop thinking about it.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, this is my first harry smut so i apologize, i also don’t know boat or camera stuff so idk what i’m calling these different things so…my bad

word count: 2,743

god he’s so hot sorry

anyway please let me know what you think! reblogs are really appreciated! <3

masterlist

You and Harry arrived in Italy merely a day ago. You had one night's rest before he had to get up and work again. It seemed like he never stopped. Over the past several months he has been constantly working and you could tell it was taking a toll on him. Slowly but surely. You tried to help as much as you could, being by his side the entire time as a form of comfort and familiarity. It seems as if it worked sometimes, but at the end of the day he dragged his feet to bed more and the dark circles under his eyes turned a deeper color.

You thought Italy would be a good change in scenery. Sure he still had to work, but he was always calmer and happier in Italy.

He had woken you up with kisses on your bare shoulder. The bright golden sun peeking through the curtain even though you had drawn them closed the night before. His fingertips dragged against your warm skin, bringing your body to life as you slowly woke up.

He had a childish little grin as he told you good morning, his dimples digging deeper into his skin, his bubblegum pink lips kissing you on the corner of your mouth. “Ready to go out on the water?” He sleepily slurred, his fingers halting on the underside of your breast, massaging the skin, enticing a moan from your lips.

You answered his question by stretching under the sheets, your arms and legs spread as you woke your body up before lightly kissing his nose and leisurely getting out of bed.

You turned around to glance at him and see him leaning his lead on his tattooed arm, a cheeky smirk playing in his lips, his eyes not so subtly raking across your body, admiring every dip and curve and scar on your body. The sunlight flowing through the curtains makes his hair look shiny, almost like golden thread, and makes his green eyes look like actual emeralds. You envy how effortless he is.

•••

“Harry, wanna take it out for a spin?”

He squints behind his glasses, his ring less fingers playing with the low back of your flowy dress, the chipped nails dragging along the hem, his pinky playing with the zipper.

“Sure” he answered, his hand falling down to your hip and lightly squeezing, grabbing your attention. “Come with me?”

You nod, looking around the wooden dock to see if you need anything. “Need anything, H?”

He slides his phone in the pocket of his brown corduroy shorts before smiling at you. “Just you and my camera.”

You try to hide your blush by leaning down to grab his camera bag from by your feet, your other hand finding his and lacing your fingers together.

You walk to the edge of the dock near where the boat sat. “Let me take that, baby.” Harry bends down to grab the camera bag from your opposite hand and puts it down on the wooden dock. His hand that was intertwined with yours tightens as the other hovers over your back, carefully helping you step into the boat.

You walked along the side to get to the back of the boat, sitting on the white cushions benches lining around the back, your hair free from any clip or hair tie dancing in the italian summer air.

“Okay,” Harry breathed out walking along the same side you did and ducking down to the hooded area to get to the front where the wheel was.

Your eyes were closed when he started up the engine, a small smile appearing on your lips when you heard him whine. “Baby…”

You took that as your cue to move near him, soon staying neck to him as he slowly turned away from the deck, mumbling a small “bye” to the people you left in the deck.

It’s quiet between the two of you as he steers, water droplets softly spraying your chest and face, cooling you down under the warm sun.

You turn to look at him, his eyes trained on the sea before you. He looks so…ethereal. His beauty was indescribable and frustrating at the same time. You couldn’t believe he was real and you got to wake up next to him every day, hopefully for the rest of your life.

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” He teased, his gaze never turning to you, but you see his lips tug up into a smirk, like he knew what you were thinking and why you were staring at him.

You chuckled softly, looking away for a quick second. “Okay, I will.” You bent down to dig into the bag behind him. carefully taking out his camera and taking the cap off the lens. “Don’t move.” You mumbled as you brought the device up to your face, squinting to see him through the lens, centering the shot so you see the sharpness of his jawline and the dip of his nose.

Click.

While you were admiring him and taking his picture, you didn’t realize how far he had taken you. The dock and buzzing italian plaza seemed like a distant dream, nothing around you but blue oceans.

There was a reason for it.

He stops the engine as you lean down to put the camera back in the bag, zipping it up and nestling it by the corner so it doesn't move much.

When you come back up, his glasses are tangled in his locks, his eyes no longer holding a sense of calmness, but a sense of lust.

You eyed him curiously. “What?” You asked nervously, a breathy chuckle leaving your lips.

“C’mere” He sultry whispered, his arm reaching for you, his middle and ring finger bending, telling you to come closer.

You smiled innocently, though your eyes said the opposite as you shuffled closer to him, your fingers delicately plucking at the button of his shirt.

His eyes roam your face and down to your chest. His tongue glides over his teeth under his closed lips as his eyes stay locked on your cleavage that your dress showed.

“Eyes up here, buddy.” You teased, your arms going to lay over his shoulders, one hand playing with the end of his hair as his arms went around you, keeping you tight against him, feeling a small tent on your thigh.

“Nah” He teased back before slowly leaning down and kissing neck, luring a small moan from you.

He continues to kiss down your neck to the exposed part of your breasts, your breath shallowing the closer he comes to the hem of your dress. But he never gets there. Instead, he comes back up to kiss your lips hungrily, a loud groan coming from him as lips closed on yours.

Your hands move up to the top of his head to tangle your fingers in his hair, the sunglasses falling to the ground. His arms keep you close, lowering down close to your ass as he bends down slightly.

It’s messy and loud. Teeth clashing, tongues dancing and loud moans and guttural groans. Harry bunches up your dress to feel your skin, grabbing a handful of your ass and squeezing, making you detach from his lips and gasp.

“Harry…please.” You whimpered as his hands explored your body, his lips leaving yours to nip at your earlobe and neck.

“Please what, baby?” He breathed into your neck. “Want me to fuck you on this boat?” His voice seemed to get impossibly deeper, his hands stopping at the zipper of your dress.

You nod impatiently, your words betraying you as your mouth dries up.

“Words, baby. Need to hear you say it.”

“Please fuck me on this boat.”

In a split second he’s turning you around so you look out into the water, your fingers gripping the glass in front of you to keep you up. You whimper at the loss of his touch, but you hear the rattling of a belt and his rapid movements to push down his shorts before he moves your dress to expose your ass.

His hands move up to the waistband of your underwear agonizingly slowly, you were almost ready to stomp your foot like a child in frustration. He was taking his sweet time.

He curls his slender fingers around the band and drags it down, leaving wet kisses to the new skin exposed to him.

You feel the flimsy material fall slack between your legs, but you don’t have time to step out of them before Harry is touching you.

“God, baby,” he moans, his face pressed against your plump backside as he teases your entrance with his middle finger. “So wet f’’me, I’ve barely touched you, love. You’re gonna feel so warm around me.” You swear you could’ve come right there from just his words.

“Harry!” You whined, moving your hips back and forth to relieve yourself.

“I got you, baby,” His finger moves down to your swollen clit, flicking it back and forth, making you moan. “Wish I could taste ya, but I just want to feel you around my cock.” He backs away from you. You hear him slide his fingers into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you before popping his finger out of his mouth.

You start to whine again, but it turns into a gasp as you feel his length tease your entrance, gathering your arousal.

You forgot how to breathe when he slowly inched inside you, sliding in all the way, his head falling down to rest on your back as he bottoms out.

You bite your lip to try and keep quiet and he notices. “No, no, no. Wanna hear you, baby. Only us out here.”

He doesn’t let you adjust. his hips move in an animalistic pace against your backside, the sounds of skin slapping, loud moaning and water splashing the only things on your mind.

Your breath fogs up the glass in front of you, a mewl leaving your lips every time he hits right there. “Feels so good.” You choke out, his movements never slowing, bringing you closer to the edge.

His hands press down on your hips, surely leaving aching bruises for you to admire later. Then one hand moves in front of you, shuffling under your bunched up dress, dragging down your pelvic bone and connecting to your swollen clit, massaging it steadily. You let out a loud groan, the knot in your stomach tightening as pounds into you hastily. “Har-I’m” You can barely get any words out before you scream, your legs violently shaking as you release around him, your jaw slacking, your eyesight clouding with stars.

He continues to play with your clit as you cum, “Fuck yes, baby. Cum around my cock.” He twitches inside of you, making your thighs flinch around his hand.

You were catching your breath when Harry pulled out of you, your face scrunching up at the sudden absence.

Both of his hands come up to cup your covered chest, bringing your back against his front , his hot breath hitting your ear when he says, “Wanna ride me, love?”

You nod lazily, your head feeling much heavier on your shoulders.

“C’mon.” He huskily whispered, grabbing your hand and bringing you down to the shaded area of the boat, slouching down onto the cream cushioned bench. You wobbly walk behind him, lifting up one leg to straddle him but he pushes you down beside him on the bench.

“Wha-”

“I have to taste you.” He breathed out, holding onto your knees to speed your legs, his mouth immediately diving down to your center, lapping at your juices.

You arch your back, your head leaning back, looking at the clear sky in front of you as your fingers tangle in his hair, keeping him in place.

He licks at your folds and shakes his head, rubbing his nose against your clit rapidly, making you scream. “Harry!”

Your toes curl and your stomach tightens again. Your mouth formed into an O as he sucked on your clit. Then he moved down to dive his tongue inside of you.

Your fingers tighten around his hair as you cum again, your legs wrapping around his back to keep him in place.

He comes back up, face red and slick with your arousal as you try to regain your breath.

He backs away from you and sits back on the seat, his tanned skin flexing under the butterfly tattoo on his chest. His hair is disheveled, strands falling down into his face as he spreads his legs and pats his thigh. “C’mon, love. Wanna see you ride my cock.”

With all of your strength you get up, grabbing onto his shoulder for leverage as you swing your leg to the farthest side of him, your chest in front of his face, his dick shadowing your entrance.

His large hands come down to your ass, holding firmly as he guides you on top of him, feeling his reddening tip glide against you.

You both let out a breath of relief as you sink down onto him, his hair tickling your chest, your fingers digging into his shoulders, making him hiss.

“Oh my god.” You mutter, slowly moving up and down to adjust to the new position, looking down as he disappeared inside of you.

“Taking my cock so well, feels so good.” His hands smooth up your side as and your arms, resting on your shoulders to curl his fingers into the straps of your dress, tugging it down your arms to expose your breasts. He cranes his neck to wrap his lips around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and pinching in between his teeth.

You throw your head back at his action, bringing your hands up to grip at his short brown locks, your pace on top of him steadying.

“Christ, look at you.” He growled from under you, both of his hands move to your breasts and he tightly squeezes them, making a moan leave your plump lips, your hips moving faster. “That’s it, keep going, love. Can feel you clenching around m-oh!” A choked moan falls from his lips as you change your angle, grinding on him instead of going up and down, your clit massaging against the skin between his two fern tattoos.

“Harry, I’m so close-” you chew on your bottom lip and furrow your eyebrows, your legs becoming weak from the previous pleasure Harry had given you and there’s an ache just behind your thighs.

He watches your face change and takes matters into his own hands, holding onto your hips to stop them from moving and sliding down the couch, planting his feet firmly on the wooden floor and thrusts up into you, his hips meeting yours at a ruthless pace.

You arch your back again as you scream his name and numerous profanities, lust and pleasure hitting you like a wave. His lips attach to one of your nipples, stimulating your orgasm to hit you even harder, if that was even possible.

You fall limply on top of him, his arms coming to wrap around your back, keeping you close. Your cheek is pressed against his shoulders, your arms fallen to the sides as he continues to thrust into you, bringing himself to the brink.

He whimpers in your ear as his thrusts falter, his fingers digging into your sides roughly and fast, short, shaky breaths come out his nose, his release following.

Your arms come up around his neck as he releases into you, your chests rising as you pant, tired from your activities under the bright italian sun and over the clear blue water.

Harry leaves a ginger kiss on your sweaty hairline once you’ve calmed down, his fingers now soothingly scratching the damp skin. “Should probably,” he said hoarsely. He clears his throat and licks his lips before continuing, “should probably get back.”

It takes you a couple seconds to register what he said, but you limply nod your head against his shoulder. You both make no effort to move.

•••

“How was it, H?” Someone asked as they reached out to help the couple off the boat.

“Uh,” Harry dragged out as he set the camera bag down, a playful smirk playing on his lips. “It was good.” He breathily chucked, his eyes trained on you through the sunglasses as he spoke. “Real good.”

•••

lmk what you think!!! this my first attempt at smut in a long while so please lmk if i did okay! also lmk if you’d like to be added or taken off taglist

taglist:

@chillingonlife @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @/letsgoparty-ah-ah-ah-yeah @tom-hollands-wife @acciosiriusblack

Masterlist

Finally got my shit together and created a masterlist! Not to be that bitch but please don’t repost my writing anywhere without my permission! Any requests or feedback are always welcomed, just hit up my ask box!

Any fics that feature an asterisk (*) denote smut. Click on each bolded title to read said fic.  Fics start from oldest to newest (the newest piece of writing will always be at the bottom, including under blurbs)

Keep reading

She looked at the drink in her hand, suddenly feeling demure and childish holding a drink the bartender told her was called Sex on the Beach after she asked for something that doesn’t take like alcohol. He noticed her hesitation and the way her eyes flickered between his drink and her own. “Would you like to try it?”

She nodded her head yes, letting him know that she did want to try it. So badly, she wanted to try it. Not because she wanted to taste the tequila, she was sure it wasn’t very good, but because she wanted to taste where his lips pressed against the glass. She could see the subtle fog where he was placing his lips every time he would take a sip. So, he handed her his drink and when she turned the glass and pressed her lips against where they both knew his lips had once been, he murmured a small, “Christ, Y/N.”

Or

Harry is a young professor and Y/N has never felt this kind of attraction before

Disclaimer: I didn't do a lot of editing to this, and it is also part one out of at least three!

Word Count: 14k+

Y/N was always one that was good at school work. She was punctual for class, thorough with her assignments, and would spend way more time than the average person studying for exams that she knew she would ace regardless. She flew through her undergraduate program, enjoying the learning component of school so much that she decided she would attend a graduate program.

She thought she would fly through it like she always had.

Y/N was wrong.

It was her first day in a teaching position as a graduate student, and the professor she was assisting for the semester only taught advanced level psychology classes. She thought that maybe assisting a professor in the class she was struggling most with — even though he was not her direct professor— might be helpful with bumping up her grade and understanding the content of the course. 

Although Y/N was not new to this program, she was struggling with one psychology course in particular. As the opportunity arose for her to TA (the pay was minimal, but she would take anything at this point), she jumped at the offer when she realized it was a position for a class she was nearly pulling her eyelashes out over. Of course she went over it with her guidance counselor to make sure the school didn’t qualify that as an unfair advantage. She didn’t want to be scolded for thinking it was appropriate to TA for a class she was concurrently taking, but her guidance counselor quickly reassured her that as long as she didn’t TA for the professor she was taking the course with, she had absolutely nothing to worry about. 

To say she was nervous was an understatement. The professor she was assisting was one she had never heard of before. With much frustration, she scoured the internet trying to find any inkling of information regarding him. There were no reviews on his teaching, no rating on how hard his course was, and the only thing she managed to find was his name (not even a picture) on the faculty website. Typically, Y/N could look up faculty and find a rating on some college website to let potential students know how hard their class was on a scale from one to five, how heavy the course load was, and if the student rating them would take a class with that professor on another occasion.

There she was, outside of his room, fifteen minutes earlier than she needed to be because she was always stressing over minuscule things (to her, five minutes early might as well be ten minutes late). Stress oozed from her pores, and she felt the tension build in her shoulders as it began sinking in that she knew nothing of the man who she would be spending quite some time with. She let out a small breath, trying to ease some of the tension in her shoulders and the way butterflies were infiltrating her brain and stomach. Y/N was in what she would call, a stress pocket. Like she had picked herself from the world and tucked herself away in a separate dimension that was only filled with stress. No happiness, no laughter, no sorrow, no anger. Simply stress. She could view the outside world from the clear stress pocket, but she couldn’t quite find a way to crawl out of it.

With one more breath and a copy of his course schedule in her hand, she flicked her gaze down and scanned it over once more preparing herself. As far as she was concerned, he had no class during this time slot and she could easily rasp her knuckles against the oak door, but a fizzle in her stomach stopped her from doing so. 

What if he didn’t know he was given a TA by the school? Is that possible? She went over a few practice lines in her head to make sure she had the words flowing through her brain before she worked up the courage to knock. It was somewhat of a habit of hers. When she ordered food for takeout, she spent a few minutes rehearsing her order so the words slipped out of her mouth nicely. Otherwise, her brain became flustered, her face would heat, and her eyes would gaze down at her shoes. 

Before she had the chance to rehearse what she was going to say, the door unlatched and popped right open revealing who she believed was Professor Styles. A satin shirt laid across his chest, slightly showing the tips of a tattoo she couldn’t quite make out. Long dark blue slacks covered his leg, flaring at the bottom and possibly made him look taller than he actually was. 

“Thought I saw a shadow lingering outside the door,” he murmured, stepping to the side to allow space for her to walk in. “What’re you doing standing out there for so long?”

It took her brain a couple seconds to compose her thoughts. This is exactly why she always prepared what she would say in advance, because her brain was becoming foggy as he held her gaze. She couldn’t help but scan his face a little more intensely than she probably should have, noting the slight pink color to his cheeks that matches his lips, the way his green eyes had a sort of sultry look to them, and the way he brought his hand up to his jaw, scratching at the stubble growing in as he looked at her. She had to avert her eyes, otherwise she may have never been able to get the words out— his beauty was a little too intense and overwhelmingly unexpected. 

Y/N doesn’t think she had ever seen anyone quite as beautiful as him. It was like an angel carved him from stone and decided the world needed a little more beauty. They planted him in the soil and grew him with the clearest spring water they could find, the sun nurturing his cheekbones and the soft brown curls that wrapped around the frame of his face so well. He was not accidental, he was planned by the Gods. Beauty that was a gift to the world.

“Sorry,” she managed to squeak out, her eyes plastered to the wall behind her as she cleared her throat to avoid any voice cracking. “I didn’t knock because I was a little early. I didn’t know if I would have been interrupting something.” 

His fingers pushed the door closed once more, then turned away from her and strode to his desk with long steps. Y/N took a chance to look at him once more, familiarizing herself with his features. She could tell by the way his eyebrows furrowed and his lips curved upward that he was sure of himself. “Mmm,” the hum coming from his vocal chord raised an octave up as he looked over a piece of paper on his desk. “You wouldn’t have been interrupting anything. How can I help you?”

She glanced down at the paper in between her fingers, and realized she was gripping it a lot harder than she processed. An indentation was made in the paper where her forefinger and thumb were straining it. In a few steps, she made it to his desk and slid the paper over to him, a slight shake of her hand as she gently pushed it across the desk. He looked up at her as he noticed the tremble in her hand, but chose not to say anything about it. 

“I’m your new TA for the class that’s starting in about ten minutes.” She spoke clearly, quickly removing her hand from the wood of his desk, and shoving it into her coat pocket. Y/N shifted on the backs of her heels, a tendency she had developed to self soothe in tense situations. 

His face lit up in realization, a look of understanding washing across his features like he finally put the pieces together as to why a random student, (certainly not one of his own because he’s great with names and faces), was nervously standing outside of his door. Her shy gaze faltering slightly as he asked why she was lingering behind the door suddenly made sense, and the nervous hand trembling was completely understandable when he realized she was reporting for her teacher’s assistant duties for the first time ever. She was just a little nervous, and he was determined to make her warm up to the new atmosphere around her. 

“Yes,” he smiled down at her, trying to make her feel welcome and comfortable. “Y/N, right? If I’m being completely honest, I forgot that I was getting an assistant today, but I’m happy you’re here!” He reached out his palm, encasing her hand in his with a firm shake. 

Her hand was delicate in his, the firmness of his made her feel small and she simply wanted to melt into a puddle against the tile as she took in his excitement. He wasn’t going to be so excited when he realized that she was actually very, very bad at abnormal psychology and couldn’t, for the life of her, remember any of the terms she was supposed to. A quick heat crept up her neck and infiltrated her cheeks at the thought of him thinking she was stupid. 

Y/N was not stupid. Y/N was anything but, and her greatest pet peeve was being belittled or ridiculed for her lack of knowledge because she spent a great deal of time intaking the material her professor’s provided her with. Hell, that’s how she got into grad school. It was just that abnormal psychology wasn’t her strongest course, and she couldn’t be faulted for that. She spent a lot of time studying for it, but her test scores were suffering more than she would like to admit. It could be because of her bashfulness, or maybe it was just her ego, but she couldn’t bring herself to visit her professor during office hours or even show up to the tutoring center. On the other hand, it also could have been because her professor was not the most approachable human being to exist and quickly made it known if you were inconveniencing him in any way.

When she didn’t say anything back, he sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth and motioned for her to follow him. Inside his classroom was a medium sized personal office tucked in the corner. Walls and a chestnut colored door separated it from the actual learning portion of the classroom. His fingers gently tapped against the door with the red undertone as he hooked his long fingers in the door knob and pressed it down. The door swung open, revealing another girl probably the same age as Y/N sitting behind one of the two desks. 

“Hi,” the girl behind the desk chirped. Her eyes were kind, and she sported big chunky glasses that suited her face well. One of the first things Y/N noticed was the subtle glow to her skin, and if she thinks a person could embody sunshine, it might just be this girl behind the desk.

“Y/N, this is my other TA, Mallory,” Professor Styles motioned toward the girl, Mallory, sitting behind the desk with a bright smile across her face. “She is also one of my TA’s for abnormal psych, but she is here with me in the mornings. I only teach abnormal psych this semester, so a couple TA’s will help me balance the workload. Sometimes your schedules may overlap for about twenty minutes or so, but whatever you’re falling behind on let Mallory know and she can pick up the following morning.” He glanced between the two girls, a smile spreading across his rose colored lips, “Same thing goes for Mallory. Whatever she needs help with, you’ll continue the task in the afternoon.”

Mallory motioned for Y/N to step inside the office, so she took the cue and walked inside. As she looked around, she noted that the office was decorated beautifully, like whoever designed the workspace must be keen on interior design. It felt more like a home than an office, really.

A green sofa with orange throw pillows flushed against the wall, as what she assumed was a comfortable area for students when they visit Professor Styles during office hours. Two fully wooden desks, side by side, though one was more cluttered which she assumed was Professor Styles’ workspace. A faux leather swivel chair was placed directly parallel with his desk for students to sit at while he chatted with them, or maybe even his colleague friends that visited him for lunch. The walls were decorated with paintings, mostly paintings with sage green and a burnt orange color to match the same vibe as the couch, and when she cocked her head to the side, she saw a small bench next to the door that held papers with community resources so students could tear off the contact information they needed.

“Mallory, do you think you could get Y/N familiar with the desk and the space? My next class starts in a few minutes and I just want to prepare a couple things. After that, you’re free to go.”

Mallory simply nodded as Professor Styles strode out of the doorway and back over to his main desk in the classroom. Y/N tore her gaze from him, trying not to ogle too much to the point where it becomes increasingly more noticeable. She made her way closer to the desk, where Mallory began showing her where all the supplies were. The top drawer of the desk was for pens and pencils, the second drawer was for extra sheets of blank paper, and the third drawer in the desk held an organized filing system which held all the answer keys for the tests he gave throughout the semester. 

“These are the tests I’m currently grading. I was able to get through his first two classes and part of his third class, but there are two more classes of 60 people that need to be graded plus the one that I didn’t finish all the way through.” Mallory pointed at the stack of tests that needed to be graded, and next to it was the hefty stack she had already worked through this morning.

Y/N looked down at the answer key displayed, and realized it was the same exact test she had taken just last week in her abnormal psychology class. “This is the same exact test I took last week,” she picked up the answer key and scanned it, noting the same wording on each question, same multiple choice answers, and same write-in questions.

Mallory nodded, a warm smile across her face as her voice chirped out, “Yeah, you’re in Professor Smith’s class with me. I recognize you. I sit behind you. Smith’s class is one week ahead of Harry’s which is why we’re able to TA for him, because we’re taking the same tests but a whole week before Harry gives them to his students,” she shrugs her shoulders up and down, “It makes it fair.”

It took Y/N a minute before she realized who Mallory was talking about. The name Harry got lost in her brain as she tried to understand who Mallory was talking about until she realized that Mallory was Professor Styles’ first name, and she knew that due to her deep Google searches on the young professor.

“I see,” Y/N nodded her head and placed the answer key back on the desk, not quite sure what else to say to Mallory. It seemed pretty straight forward, and if she finished before her time was up for the day, she was sure Professor Styles would give her something else to do for the remainder of the time.

“If there’s anything that you need, you can just ask me. My contact information is on that little piece of paper taped to the desk,” Mallory pointed at the corner, and Y/N read her full name, phone number, and email address, “But everything is pretty straight-forward.”

Y/N nodded, mumbling out an appreciative “thank you” as Mallory began gathering her stuff. Right before she exited the door, Y/N cleared her throat as she worked up the courage to get Mallory’s attention. 

Mallory turned her head slightly, her eyebrows raised as she held the edge of the doorway with her fingers, waiting for Y/N to say something.

“I was just wondering if…” Y/N trailed off momentarily, her eyes drifting to where Professor Styles stood as he greeted the students that were flooding in his room in large groups, “I was wondering if you liked assisting Professor Styles.” 

Mallory’s smile grew larger as she understood the nervous gulp Y/N gave in between words as she spoke. If Mallory was being completely truthful, she was skeptical of him at first too. She couldn’t find any ratings as this was his first year teaching and sometimes you truly don’t understand a professor’s temperament until you get to know them. “He’s great, I promise you.” Her eyes glanced behind her and she lowered her voice, “He’s nothing like Professor Smith… And he’s easy on the eyes.”

Mallory sent a wink toward Y/N, and Y/N felt that familiar heat crawl up her neck once more.

___________

By the end of the day, she had nearly finished the stack. With a glance toward the clock, she realized she only had a few minutes left and wouldn’t be able to crank out the thirty or so tests that needed grading. Her fingers drummed against the desk as she contemplated how to let Mallory know she didn’t completely finish. 

Y/N could send her an email as her contact information was taped to the corner of her desk, but it didn’t feel like a good enough reason to email her and she really, really didn’t want to bug her. Y/N thinks if she were in Mallory’s shoes, an email letting her know she didn’t finish felt unnecessary.

Multiple shoes clicking on the floor in the main classroom rang in her ears, the sound of nonchalant talking as the students shuffled out the classroom, and the sound of papers rifling in backpacks signaled that Professor Styles’ class had ended, concluding his classes for the day. 

It was only a few minutes before the last student finally made their way out the door, the familiar sound of the door clicking closed told her that he had finally completed his work day.

Like he was anticipating the end of his day, he gently tapped his knuckles upon the door of the office and before she could even mumble a small “come in,” the door was flying open. Y/N realized then that the tapping against the door wasn’t necessarily permission for him, but a courteous way of letting her know that he would be entering the room. 

He stood in the doorway, his lean shoulders pressing against the frame. The satin top that exposed just the tips of his tattoos taunted her, almost as if they were  looking back at her while she tried to decipher what might lay under his shirt. 

With hard eyes, he glanced down at what she was staring at and when he realized where her gaze was studying, he brought his nimble fingers to the top button and securely covered it so that the tattoos were no longer in sight. He cleared his throat and she swallowed hard, glancing around the room to try and play off her wandering eyes.

“How was your first day?” He asked, giving her a somewhat hopeful look. The kind of look that told her he must have had a TA at one point that had a terrible first day, and ran out of his abnormal psych class screaming, never to be seen again. 

If she was honest, the subject in itself was something she might have had trouble mastering, but the assistant duties weren’t that terrible. All she had to do was review an answer key, mark in red pen if they got the answer wrong, and total up the number of points they got on their test. It didn’t get much simpler than that. 

“It was good, Professor Styles,” she tried to make her voice sound as chipper and friendly as possible. She wanted him to know that she was happy to help him out and liked doing it. 

He shook his head slightly, a small smile forming across his lips to indicate amusement. It was almost as if she could see his eyes shine a little brighter than they were before as he brought his hand up to his neck and rubbed in a comforting way like. He searched the air, trying to find the same words he used for Mallory when she began assisting him. 

“I like to be called Harry if that’s something you’re comfortable with. I want you to feel like we’re on the same level, almost like we’re colleagues. You don’t need to address me as ‘professor’ because I’m not your professor,” he began the same spiel he told Mallory, letting her know that they were equals and it made Y/N’s insides warm a little bit. “For example, if one day you told me you wanted to teach the lesson, I would absolutely trust you to do so.”

Her eyebrows scrunched and her tongue flicked against her lower lip, the eyes that were previously locked with him now analyzing the pattern of the wooden desk as she shook her head in a gentle way. Giving a lesson was definitely not something she wanted to do. Maybe Mallory was the kind of TA that wanted interaction with the class, but not Y/N. No, that wasn’t Y/N at all. 

Y/N considered herself to be a simple person. She didn’t mind sneaking into the office he had tucked away in his room with the door closed as she graded papers. She didn’t mind the silently working alone, reading through answers, trying to decipher sloppy handwriting, but she did not want to teach a lesson,

Maybe Mallory was her polar opposite, balancing out his two TA’s. Mallory was talkative enough when she met Y/N. She seemed like the kind of girl that could discuss a topic as bland as oranges for thirty minutes by constantly adding new components to the conversation. Mallory and Y/N might be a yin and yang ordeal, opposites that balance each other out just enough that it works together.

“I appreciate that, but I don’t want to teach a class,” she explained. It took a second for her to calm the thoughts that were picking at her brain. Maybe the idea of teaching a class sounded some sort of internal alarm that forced her shoulders to tense up, her knees to lock, and her mouth to produce more saliva than necessary because she physically felt her body constrict at the idea.

“No, you don’t have to,” he shifted against the doorframe, sensing how uncomfortable she was and silently cursing at himself for putting her in such an awkward position on her first day. “I was just trying to explain that I want us to be equals.”

She simply nodded, not quite sure what else to say. She could confirm that she was comfortable calling him Harry, but she thinks he probably already knew she would if that is what he was requesting. She settled on two words that expressed her gratitude, “Thank you.”

He gestured his hand as if to say don’t even worry about it, but a puzzled look formed on his face as he did so. “Do you mind telling me why you don’t want to teach a class? Mallory nearly fell out of her seat with excitement when I told her she could if she really, really wanted to.” 

There it was: confirmation that Mallory was her opposite. A sense of relief washed through her veins as she realized it was perfectly okay for her to be the quiet one, as long as Mallory was outgoing.

Her eyes narrowed and Harry could tell she was trying to find the words to explain how she felt about the idea. She was very thoughtful, and in the short three hours he had known her, he appreciated that quality about her. Y/N couldn’t tell him she sucked at abnormal psychology and was almost failing her class. She couldn’t tell him that she would pretty much be setting his students up for failure if she taught the class, but she could tell him that she was uncomfortable in big groups of people. That was true. As soon as the group exceeded five or so people, she realized she never wanted to participate in the conversation as she felt like she never had anything good enough to say. Y/N was more of a listener, and sometimes even then, five people in her friend group was overwhelming. 

“I’m not a good public speaker,” as the reason slipped from her lips, she suddenly felt like that was such a silly reason to make a fuss over it. It was true though, public speaking was not really her element. 

“We could always work on that if that’s something you’re interested in?” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. If she refused the offer it wouldn’t really bother him, but he wanted to give her the option anyway, just in case it’s a goal she wants to work toward.

Y/N didn’t know what possessed her because even though working on public speaking would be helpful in its own way, she really didn’t want to. She had already taken the most basic required public speaking course and did not plan to take any other communication class, but she nodded her head in agreement with his proposition and mumbled out, “That would be great.”

Harry could tell by the lack of enthusiasm in her response, and by the way her shoulders slumped forward and her nose scrunched up that she didn’t actually mean it. It was more that she was trying to be polite than anything, and he thinks that maybe if he were her, his reaction would be the same. He used to be a people pleaser too, and at first it was a harmless personality trait that slowly morphed into something that was no longer harmless, he was absolutely taken advantage of (covering shifts for coworkers when he didn’t want to, staying out too late with friends because they wanted to even though his warm bed was calling) and became a difficult thing to shake. 

He glanced down at his watch, reading the time carefully. It hadn’t felt like 15 minutes of interacting with her until he realized just how long his, now numb, shoulder was pressed against the door frame. “It’s probably time you head out, hm?” 

“Yes,” she breathed out, finding her voice. She knew they hadn’t been talking for too long, but she didn’t want to overstay her welcome. Not that she was itching to stay and grade papers. No matter how mindless the activity was, she did want to go home. It was at that moment she realized the question she wanted to ask him hadn’t come up yet, and it was the first thing she wanted to ask when she heard the shuffling of footsteps as he wrapped up his last class of the day. “I have about thirty tests left to grade. How can I let Mallory know?” 

He wasn’t looking at her as she spoke, but she knew that she had his undivided attention. With hesitation, she gulped as she watched his long fingers rake down his throat, his index and middle finger touching the skin ever so gently, just avoiding his Adam's apple. It only took a couple steps for him before his long legs were at his desk in the office, and he was sifting through the disorganized pile he must have dumped on there in between classes. “Why don’t you just leave her a little note that she can read when she comes in tomorrow morning? Should be fine.” 

It didn’t take too long for her to grab a blank piece of paper from the second drawer. She scribbled out a note as quickly as possible, letting Mallory know how far she got the day before and thanking her for picking up where she left off. As soon as she was done writing the note, she began gathering her things. Y/N was more than ready to get back to her flat, have a small discussion with her flatmate (who also happened to be her best friend), and climb into the comfort of her bed. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said softly. 

He gave her one of those sweet smiles that he must have kept tucked away in his utility belt of charm, and waved her a simple goodbye. 

She thought of him the whole way home even though she tried not to. 

___________

“So how was it?” Her roommate and best friend from her undergraduate days, Niall, asked from the other side of the kitchen. She had been home for a total of ten minutes and he was already interrogating her, but she didn’t expect anything less from him. With a short glance over to where she stood at the counter, he gave his attention back to the refrigerator where he was rummaging to find the strawberry kiwi flavored juice he loved so much. 

“It was fine,” she shrugged her shoulders. As soon as she started speaking, his eyes fixated back toward her as his hand finally grasped the strawberry kiwi juice he was looking for. Instead of holding eye contact, she let her gaze flicker to the floor.

Eye contact was one of Y/N’s telling traits; Niall knew that when she couldn’t hold eye contact with him, she was either lying or holding out on giving him information. A smirk danced across his lips as he shut the fridge, then leaned his body against it slowly. “You’re either lying or holding out on me. Which is it?”

“Holding out on you,” amusement twirled throughout her eyes, and her lips curved to match the same smirk Niall was giving her.

“Won’t you tell me?” He clutched his chest, feigning heart pain as if she had stabbed him by telling him she was holding out.

“He’s really…” She trailed off, not quite sure how to say what she wanted to say appropriately. It felt wrong to say it out loud. She wasn’t concerned that Niall would judge her, but if she was being honest, she was judging herself for being so attracted to the professor she was supposed to be working for. She decided to put it as bluntly as possible, “Attractive.”

In a matter of seconds, Niall’s smirk turned into a full blown smile, teeth showing and all. It wasn’t common for Y/N to talk about when she found someone attractive. She always kept to herself. In fact, she kept to herself so much that when Niall invited her out with his other friends, he was always a little worried that she was feeling overwhelmed. It’s not that she couldn’t take care of herself or regulate her own emotions, she absolutely could and he knew that, but he always worried that she was forcing herself to be around his friends just because she wanted Niall to know she cared about spending time with him. “Is he now?”

“Yes,” her smile turned into a sheepish one, her ears feeling hot right at the tips.

“Have you told him that you suck at abnormal psychology?” Niall didn’t mean this in a mean way, he knew Y/N was struggling with her abnormal psych class because she had come home on multiple occasions, kicked her shoes off, buried her face into the couch cushion and screamed at the top of her lungs. When Niall asked her why she was being so dramatic, she told him that she was failing her first class, and even he was slightly taken aback by the news. Y/N had better grades than anyone he knew. 

“That’s not the plan anymore,” she explained, her fingers rubbing against the countertop just enough to feel the smooth coating. She was waiting for him to scold her. She was actually anticipating it on the car ride when she decided that she absolutely, for certain, was not going to tell Professor Styles—Harry— that she was failing her abnormal psychology class. When the opportunity came for her to TA, she had talked about it with Niall. He knew she was a naturally shy being, but he explained that if she was still struggling in a couple weeks when the TA position started, she could tell the professor and maybe they would offer her some extra help or some extra worksheets that would get her back on track.

“What do you mean?” Niall furrowed his eyebrows, taking a swig of the strawberry kiwi juice he had forgotten he was holding in his hand.

She simply shrugged her shoulders up and down, staring at her pink polkadot socks as she wiggled her toes to distract herself.

“Why? Because you think he’s attractive?” Niall tried to understand, pressing the topic further. If she didn’t want to give him anymore information regarding it then he would stop pestering her, but his job as her best friend was to pester her anyway.

She simply nodded, still not looking up.

“Sheesh, Y/N.” Niall brought his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose and pressed it together in order to relieve some of the tension building in his head. He wasn’t going to tell her it was a bad idea or shame her for finding him attractive. Hell, he was putting himself in her shoes and decided that if he found one of his professor’s attractive, he would probably leave out information like that too.

“I know,” was all she said, a tinge of shame ringing in her tone but he waved her off.

“So,” he said, not wanting her to feel too badly, “Indian for dinner?”

She gazed back up at him, a grin shining in his direction as she said, “You know me so well.”

________

Days had passed of Y/N working in the office located in Harry’s classroom. They didn’t talk very much, but sometimes he would come into the office and sit with her. While he did work on his computer and she graded papers, he would make small talk. He would ask her things about why she chose to major in psychology, what undergraduate school she went to, where she was from. Normal things like that. Sometimes she wanted to ask him questions too, but she could never work up the courage to until today (it only took her a few weeks).

“Do you have a favorite color?” It was the most mundane question she could ask him, but she was actually asking for a reason. Typically, she graded the papers in the red pen Mallory left behind, because it was cohesive with Mallory’s work.

“I like green. Why do you ask?” He glanced up from his laptop, closing the lid just slightly so he could get a better view of her face. 

“I grade with a red pen. I was wondering if there was a preference you had,” she suddenly felt childish for asking, and was mentally banging her head against the wall. 

“You can keep grading with red. That color is better for grading anyway.” His eyes tore from her and he was back to scrolling through something on his laptop. Her eyes remained fixated on him, and she wanted to keep the conversation going, but there was no way she would have been able to work up the courage to speak to him again. Like he was reading her thoughts, he looked back at her and concluded with, “Thanks for asking, sweet girl.”

Sweet girl. 

Her heart nearly exploded in her chest.

After that day, her and Harry spent a lot of time talking. Possibly too much time talking.

___________

Mallory decided that since she and Y/N both TA’d for Harry, it was an unspoken rule that they should start sitting together in Professor Smith’s class. The day after Mallory met Y/N, she packed her bag up from the other side of the classroom, and moved to the back desk in the seat parallel to Y/N.

Their seats already weren’t too far away, even though Mallory originally sat on the opposite side. Actually, Y/N hadn’t ever realized before but the classroom was small, sterile, and unwelcoming. It wasn’t the way Harry’s classroom was set up with paintings hanging on the wall, informative sheets placed on a vintage waist level bookcase that was filled with leatherback classics. Professor Smith’s class was that of a doctor’s office. No color except gray, tile that constantly smelt of lemon floor cleaner. Y/N didn’t always catch the fine details, but when comparing Professor Smith’s class to Harry’s, she realized just how much Harry went out of his way to make the environment feel like home. 

So Y/N was a little grateful when Mallory took a seat beside her, the atmosphere feeling a little less cold and dark. They would work together on in-class projects, and Y/N realized that Mallory was really, really good at understanding the fundamentals to abnormal psychology. She was actually really grateful she met Mallory, because the more Mallory helped her, the better her grades were looking. She still wasn’t passing the class at a satisfactory level, but she was definitely getting better. 

Mallory liked to talk a lot, which was good, because Y/N liked to listen. She never had much to say, but Mallory always did. Like today, for example, she was telling Y/N that she and her boyfriend were going to some dive bar on the East side with tickets to a comedy show on Friday, and she really wanted Y/N to come. Her other friend and her friend’s boyfriend bailed, but Mallory had already purchased two extra tickets for the comedy show and she would hate for them to be wasted. Y/N was hesitant at first, but she decided there was no harm in going. She liked Mallory a lot, and she was excited to meet Mallory’s boyfriend because she had heard so much about him.

“Are you going to bring your boyfriend? If you don’t then we’re going to have that one extra ticket,” Mallory explained.

Her boyfriend? When had Y/N ever said that she had a boyfriend? Mallory wasn’t the type of person to assume either, so she tried to replay the past conversations in her head dating back to when Mallory and her first started conversing about a month and a half ago. They had talked about all kinds of things, but Y/N had never mentioned a boyfriend. As if the puzzle pieces clicked together, she realized just how often she talked about Niall when she felt she had something interesting enough to add to the conversation.

“Do you mean Niall?” Y/N questioned, her eyebrows raised just a smidge.

“Yes,” Mallory confirmed, confusion laced in her tone and present on her features. “Is he not your boyfriend?”

“No,” Y/N started to laugh, the kind of laugh that made your nose scrunch. Niall was handsome, sure, but they would only ever be best friends. They definitely were not each other’s types. Y/N had seen Niall’s type at nights when he would escort her to small gatherings to play board games. The girls (sometimes even guys, she thinks, though she’s never asked) would be twirling their hair in the corner as he charmed them with that dazzling smile. “Niall is my best friend! He’s also my roommate which might be why you’re confused. I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Mallory said, a smile spreading across her face as she clapped her hands together. “Well, why don’t you bring him then if he’s your best friend. I would love to meet him!”

“I think…” Y/N trailed off, trying to think if this is something Niall would say yes to. He was such a social butterfly, he usually never said no to going out, so she didn’t see why agreeing for him would be a problem. “I think that would be a lovely idea.”

When Y/N got home that night, she asked Niall and to no surprise of her own, he excitedly agreed and said he was excited to meet Mallory.

___________

Harry dismissed his class early that day. Mallory didn’t show up to grade papers in the morning because she had a doctor's appointment she already arranged with Harry. He decided that since there was not much left on the chapter his class was going over, he would help Y/N grade the test his class took two days ago since she was grading by herself. 

He popped his head through the door to tell Y/N that he dismissed class early and was going to step out for a few minutes. She gave him a nod in confirmation and heard his heels click as he walked out of the classroom.

Just like he said, he was back in a few minutes but with two coffees in hand. She eyed the coffee with the whipped cream on top, and a devilish smile spread across his lips, his eyes sparkling. Was that other coffee for her? If so, how did he know she liked whipped cream on the top?

“I got us a treat,” he set the two coffees down on her desk and pushed the one with whipped cream, then grabbed his swivel chair that was tucked into the desk he normally sat at in the office and placed it directly next to hers. When he sat, he was so close that she could feel his knee brush against hers.

“Thank you,” she expressed her gratitude and picked up the coffee, eyeing the whipped cream once more. “How did you know I liked whipped cream?”

He paused and looked at her. The look on his face was teetering on the edge of wariness, like he didn’t want to say anything to cross the fine line of a boundary they had constructed. As he searched for the right words to say, he drank in her appearance and she couldn’t help but want to melt away as his eyes danced from her own eyes then back down to her lips then back up to her eyes. “When you come in looking especially tired, you always have a coffee with you, and every single time you’ve had a coffee with you, it has whipped cream on the top.”

Her heart thumped in her chest. Did he notice her that often? Surely he didn’t notice her the way that she’s noticed him. She notices how his tongue darts out and swiftly moved across his bottom lip when he’s concentrated, how he clicks his pen to the beat of the song when they’re playing music in the office, and how he rakes his forefinger and middle finger up and down his throat when he’s really listening to what she has to say.

“I was thinking that we could share this answer key,” he tapped the answer key she had toward the top of the desk, “To grade these papers together. It’s Friday night, I’m sure you wanna get out of here a little early.”

She decided that he was maybe the most thoughtful person she had ever met. There was absolutely no reason that he needed to help her, he could have let her do it all on her own. He didn’t need to get her a coffee either. Maybe she just wasn’t so used to random acts of kindness, or maybe it was the fact that every single day, her attraction to him grew and grew like a plant flourishing in the sunlight. “Did you want me to make a copy?”

“What? Am I sitting too close to you?” He teased, brushing his leg up against hers. She sucked in a small gasp as she felt his knee against hers once more, and maybe it was because she was so touch starved, but she wanted him to do it again and again and again.

“No, no. Not at all,” Y/N said a little too frantically. A little too eagerly.

“Hush, pet. I’m just kidding with you.” Harry spoke softly, letting her know that he was only teasing her. 

They worked in silence for a little while until Y/N rested her back against the chair. She was beginning to cramp up from the way she was sitting. Her fingers were beginning to hurt with each stroke of the pen. Her eyes were getting a little blurry from looking at the same thing over and over again, so she used her left hand (the one that wasn’t cramping up) and grabbed her coffee, taking a swig and underestimating the strength of her left hand, causing whipped cream to coat her upper lip.

Harry laughed gently, then used his fingers to wipe the whip cream off her mouth. He grabbed her lips in between his fingers, then wiped the whipped cream onto his pants. She shuddered softly, almost unnoticeably when she felt his fingers so gently across her lips. Though this was not professor and TA behavior she would deem normal, he said nothing about it, and she was beginning to think that maybe she was overthinking the whole thing because she found him so attractive. With one swift sentence, he pulled her from her thoughts.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” He asked her, making subtle conversation as his pen marked a few things on the test he was grading. Like Y/N, Harry wondered what Y/N did in her free time although he never found a way to weasel that into their conversations. While their conversations were mostly made up of random tidbits of their lives, he had never figured out how to ask how she would spend her weekends.

Y/N was about to tell him that she was seeing a comedy show with Niall and Mallory (and Mallory’s boyfriend of course), but she wasn’t sure if Mallory had told Harry they became quick friends. What if Mallory didn’t want him to know? Y/N couldn’t understand why Mallory would think that way, but just in case, she decided she wouldn’t tell him anything about it. “I don’t think so,” she lied plainly, “What about you? Are you doing anything special?”

Harry casually looked up, clicking the pen a few times before replying. “I am doing something tonight. My friends planned it. If I’m being honest, though, I’m not quite sure what we’re doing. They have told me a few times, but it’s gone over my head. At this point, they’re going to swing by my flat and pick me up just so they are certain I’ll actually show up. Not that I don’t want to see them and don’t care about the plans, I’ve just been so busy.”

“Oh,” Y/N tightens and a sudden realization sweeps through her mind. What if he has a girlfriend? She pushed the thought from her head and buried it, “I’m like that too, I think.”

The sudden realization she tried to bury put her in a somewhat sour mood. Harry notices right away, but he doesn’t ask her why she’s suddenly so adrift from their conversation in an attempt to not push her. If something was bothering her and she wanted to talk about it, she would.

They spent the rest of the time grading papers, and before she left for the night, he told her to have a great weekend, and she told him to have the same, the sullen feeling still weighing on her chest.

___________

The bar was very crowded, very noisy, and not usually Y/N’s scene at all. When her and Niall arrived, she quickly introduced him to Mallory, and Mallory introduced her boyfriend—Josh— to them quickly. The comedy show didn’t last too long, and Y/N could have sworn that Mallory said it was a dive bar when she was trying to convince her to come. The atmosphere was that of a nightclub, as the show finished people shuffled to the dance floor and began dancing.

Mallory grabbed Y/N by the arm and ushered her over to the bar, and Y/N was guessing that she could feel the tension radiating from her. “I think a drink will loosen you up. Do you want a drink?” Mallory asked.

“I don’t drink very often,” Y/N said, unsure of what to order. There is one thing that Y/N does know about drinking, and it is that she hates the taste of alcohol. The bar was crowded, and Mallory shoved in between two people sitting in barstools, making room for Y/N. Her fingers brushed against the counter, feeling a cold liquid under her hand. It took everything in her to not scrunch up her nose as she wiped the mystery liquid against the bottom of her satin dress.

“That’s okay,” Mallory said, “Just ask the bartender what he thinks you’ll like.”

Y/N didn’t know how the bartender would know what she likes if she didn’t even know what she liked herself. Mallory ordered something red, but Y/N didn’t know the name of it. She knew immediately that she wasn’t going to get that though, because the smell of vodka coming from Mallory’s drink was strong. Mallory took a strong swig of the drink, not making a face and giving her a thumbs up. It was at that moment that Y/N decided she really liked Mallory’s carefree personality. She really enjoyed Mallory, even if the bar was a little too loud than she would normally like, Y/N decided it was worth it to spend time with Mallory and Niall.

“What can I get for you?” The bartender turned and looked at Y/N after watching Mallory take a sip of her drink to make sure it was made to her satisfaction. 

Y/N hesitated, “Something that doesn’t taste like alcohol, I think.”

“I’ve got the perfect drink for you,” he yelled over the music and people talking then reached for a glass from under the counter. He added a few juices to the glass and a steep amount of alcohol. Y/N wasn’t sure if he misheard her and thought she asked for something that did taste like alcohol based on the amount he put it. After the glass was full to the brim, he popped in a little umbrella and slid it over to her. “Let me know if you don’t like it. It’s called Sex on the Beach.”

Sex on the Beach was such a crude name for a beverage, but who was she to judge the name. Maybe it really did taste like sex on the beach. She sipped through the straw and was surprised when it tasted like an assortment of juice and none of the alcohol he had heavily poured into the glass. She murmured a soft thank you, and though he didn’t actually hear her, he knew she was expressing gratitude.

It only took a couple seconds to find out where Niall and Josh had moved. Mallory and Y/N walked over to them with drinks in hand, and even with the one sip Y/N took, she already felt much looser. They found their way to a booth, facing the door.

By the time an hour passed, Y/N and Mallory finished their drinks and Y/N was feeling exceptional. They made their way back to the bar and the bartender winked at her, fixing up another Sex on the Beach and Mallory ordered something different this time.

As they walked back toward the booth, Mallory nudged Y/N with her elbow and pointed toward the door. Y/N watched Harry walk in with a couple of his friends, his eyes locking with hers and then flickering over to Mallory. A grin spread across his face and his hand came up in a slow wave. Mallory quickly waved back and Y/N just stood there, shocked that these were the plans his friends had made with him. 

He approached them, leaving his friends to saunter to the bar without him. The three of them exchanged hellos, then he shifted his body to face Y/N. “I thought you weren’t doing anything?” Harry yelled over the music, smoke clouding around the three of them.

“I forgot,” she lied, and Mallory quickly turned her head to look at Y/N as if to say how did you forget when we’ve been talking about it all week.

To Y/N’s misfortune, Mallory said just that. “We’ve been talking about it all week, Y/N. How did you forget?”

Harry’s face sparked with amusement as if she had caught her red handed, her tongue twisting in the shape of the lie that she had so easily told him earlier in the day. Y/N rolled her eyes at Mallory and laughed a little, the alcohol pumping through her veins at an alarmingly fast rate.

“I’ll meet you back at the booth,” Mallory was grinning as she turned her body and walked back over to where Josh and Niall sat, waiting for them to return. Y/N realized that she really needed to explain herself to Mallory, the conversation with Harry probably seemed a little more intimate than it actually was.

“I’m going to go get a drink,” Harry eyed her drink, her Sex on the Beach. Oh, she would love to have that with Harry. Y/N’s tipsy brain was much more scandalous than her sober brain. “Maybe we can talk later.”

Y/N really wanted to spend more time with him. She wanted to sit with him, and meet his friends. It wasn’t going to happen, but she so desperately wanted to. It took a second for her to tear her gaze from his body as he walked away from her and toward the bar to meet his friends. She took this as her cue to not stand in the middle of the dance floor like an idiot and found her way back to the booth where her friends waited for her. Niall looked at her suspiciously but she shrugged her shoulders in response, directing her attention to Josh as he talked about a movie trailer he recently saw and how much he wants to go see the movie in the theater. Y/N knew exactly what movie he was talking about, and said that she wants to see it too, so the four of them made plans to go see the movie next Friday.

Throughout the night, Y/N glanced at Harry and more often than not, they made eye contact with one another. Thirty minutes had passed from the time he walked in the door with his friends, and finally, the last time they locked eye contact, he subtly nodded toward the hall that led to the Billiards room and the bathroom. Immediately, Y/N knew that he was telling her to meet him there. 

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” she said, the drink still in her hand. 

Mallory and Josh thought nothing of it, nodding at her to confirm they heard her, but Niall eyed the drink she sported in between her fingers and gave her a knowing look, a twinkle shining in his eye. Oh, he was definitely going to be asking her about this later.

She staggered toward the hallway, moving through the crowd of people, trying not to spill her drink on herself, the floor, or the people near her. As she made her way to the hall, she felt Harry come up behind her, knowing it was him by the minty citrus scent of his cologne.

Y/N flipped around and the hallway was so crowded with people that they didn’t have much room between them. Her back was slightly pressed against the wall, his thigh placed in between her legs, rubbing her gently. She was suddenly hyper aware of how he felt, how he smelled, and how he looked.

He wore jeans that flare at the bottom, a black sweater tucked into the tops of the jeans. The sneakers he had on matched his outfit perfectly, and it took her until this very moment to realize that he was fairly fashionable. His outfits always looked put together, but they weren’t trendy. They were always timeless and fitted to his lean stature.

“I’ve been looking at you all night,” his tone was soft and his eyes searched hers thoroughly. “You look so cute, y’know?”

Harry took the fabric of her satin dress in between his fingers and felt it, his index finger slowly rubbing against the soft part of her thigh. 

“Thank you,” was all she managed to squeak out. He dropped the fabric from his fingers, and she wanted to protest because she wanted to feel his fingers against her. She hadn’t realized how much you could crave someone until you’re one Sex on the Beach in, and then the realization that he knew just how much she ogled him in his office kicked in. 

“You didn’t tell me you were coming here tonight because you didn’t want me to know you were with your boyfriend?” His tone was teasing, but she thought just for a second that’s how he was playing it off. Like he wanted confirmation that wasn’t actually the reason and he was fishing for the information. 

She held his gaze momentarily before sputtering out, “I don’t have a boyfriend.” She wanted him to know. No, she needed him to know.

“Then who is that blonde bloke you’ve been snuggling up to?” He questioned, knowing she was telling the truth but he wanted to see her squirm just a little bit. She knew it, too. She could tell by the way his voice sounded that he was just messing with her, he wanted a bit of cat and mouse.

“My friend. We’re best friends, actually, and roommates.” Y/N explained, though her brain was a little bit foggy. Not because of the alcohol, no. Actually, she felt like she was sobered up, and needed a little bit more of her drink to get her back to the floaty place she was at when she was sitting in the booth.

He used his right hand to keep himself sturdy, then checked his surroundings and asked her, “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes,” she breathed out. It was loud, but she felt just fine here with him.

The atmosphere was so wild with smoke filtering through the air, that now they really had no room except practically chest to chest as they spoke. The drink he was sporting in his hand was dark tequila on the rocks, and it made so much sense that he could drink hard liquor as is. He exuded that kind of dominance, the kind that says I enjoy the burn in my throat because it feels nice.

She looked at the drink in her hand, suddenly feeling demure and childish holding a drink the bartender told her was called Sex on the Beach after she asked for something that doesn’t take like alcohol. He noticed her hesitation and the way her eyes flickered between his drink and her own. “Would you like to try it?”

She nodded her head yes, letting him know that she did want to try it. So badly, she wanted to try it. Not because she wanted to taste the tequila, she was sure it wasn’t very good, but because she wanted to taste where his lips pressed against the glass. She could see the subtle fog where he was placing his lips every time he would take a sip. So, he handed her his drink and when she turned the glass and pressed her lips against where they both knew his lips had once been, he murmured a small, “Christ, Y/N.”

The tequila dribbled down her chin, and he used his finger to wipe it up, and as she lowered the drink from her lips, he grazed his index finger over her lips, beckoning for her to open and lick the whiskey she spilled. He didn’t need to coax her, didn’t need to tell her what he wanted, she simply just knew. Her tongue darted out, licking the whiskey from the base of his finger to the tip. He was never really into voyeurism, but he thinks he could take her right here and right now. How did he go from helping her grade papers earlier in the day to pressing her against the wall of a bar with his thigh tense between her legs. They were crossing so many lines, he was crossing so many lines.

“Why are you always cleaning up my face?” She gave him a lazy smile, and her eyes were so innocent.

“Why are you always spilling?” He countered.

He breathed her in, smelling the taste of his whiskey against her lips. He was so close, so close that he could taste her if he really wanted to, so close that she could feel his breath against her face. He decided that he spent too much time thinking about her mouth. About the way her lips parted then closed when she had something to say, but decided not to say anything at all. God, that was so frustrating. He spent so much time thinking about her lips, and the noises that would come from them if he truly could have her that he should just kiss her, right here, right now. “I want to. I really want to,” his voice was low and thick, sultry even.

“Me too,” her voice was small, and once again he was all too aware of the way her legs squeezed his thigh. 

Before he could make a choice he couldn’t take back, he pushed himself away, leaving a foot of space between the pair. “You should go back to your friends,” he didn’t want to sound too harsh, so he gently brushed his fingers against his cheek and grasped the glass of tequila with the palm of his hands. “I’ll see you Monday, Y/N.”

Without a word, she made her way back to her friends, feigning the frustration that was building in his chest. For the rest of the night, she glanced in his direction but he never glanced back at her. Maybe he was feeling guilty. Maybe he thought he was making a big mistake.

When they finally got home, Niall didn’t ask her anything like she thought he would and she was grateful.

___________

It started with an ache low in her belly, then slowly spread to her lower back. As she sat in her second hour of Professor Smith’s class, she laid her head against the coolness of the desk. Y/N was trying not to think of her encounter with Harry the Friday before. Nothing had actually happened so it was fine, there was nothing to worry about. Mallory gave her a sympathetic smile, and once more held out the pamprin pills but Y/N shook her head as she had already taken some just an hour before class started. 

It was almost like she could feel the color draining from her face, nausea turning in her stomach. She wasn’t expecting her period to come this morning after she had stepped foot on campus. There were no signs as she was greeting ready in the morning. No signs when she stepped out of her apartment. The first sign happened when she was walking from the opposite side of campus to Professor Smith’s class. The dull ache weaseled its way into her lower abdomen, causing subtle pain with each step she took. As she continued to walk, her hand found its way to her abdomen, applying warmth and pressure to rid her of the ache but it wasn’t working.

Quickly, she found a bathroom and slipped into a stall, realizing that her period had come sooner than she was expecting it. With a hurried hand, she rummaged through her bag, pulling out an emergency bottle of pamprin and shuffled the pills past her lips, chugging it down with the water bottle tucked into the side pocket of her backpack. 

As soon as she saw Mallory, it was like Mallory could tell she was in an immense amount of pain, because she slung her backpack off of her shoulder and pulled out a bottle of the same pills tucked into a specific pocket of her backpack. Y/N just shook her head, struggling to muster up the words to tell her she had already taken some.

“I think you should leave class a little early. Go to Harry’s class and lay on the couch in the office. There’s no point in staying here, it’s not like you’re able to absorb any of the information while you’re in pain,” Mallory began reasoning with her. As far as she was concerned Mallory didn’t know that Harry and Y/N were so close to kissing at the bar that she could still feel her lips tingling three days later. She didn’t want to go to Harry, and she didn’t want Harry to think she was being dramatic. Y/N wasn’t worried that it would be awkward between her and Harry today, because he was so charming it would have been like Friday never happened, but she was still hesitant. Before she had a chance to think twice another cramp ripped through her, and she was already packing up her backpack and lifting herself from her seat, the dull ache turning into something more sharp and painful as she stood.

It was her intention to slip out the back door, to be as inconspicuous as possible, but her plan to do that was ruined when Professor Smith cleared his throat and called out her name. “Where are you going?”

Y/N didn’t know what to say, she wasn’t keen on telling the whole class that her uterus might fall out of her body if she stayed hunched over in an uncomfortable chair, with the coolness of the desk being the only thing that could soothe her, or that the nausea was building with each second and she might be so low on iron that she vomits all over the floor of the classroom.

The words tumbled out of her mouth like a squeal, “I’m sorry, I’m not feeling too well.”

Professor Smith’s expression remained stoic, not showing any sign of annoyance or even sympathy for the girl standing in pain at the back of the class. Not that she was expecting sympathy, although she was definitely not expecting the next words to fly out of his mouth in front of her silent classmates viewing the exchange between them, “Really, you should stay unless you plan on getting another D on the next test.”

Y/N tried not to look as horrified as she felt, avoiding eye contact with Mallory completely. She failed to mention to her new friend that she was flunking Professor Smith’s class out of sheer embarrassment and the idea that it might get back to Harry, which would be mortifying in itself. 

“I’ll be fine,” was all she managed to say as she slipped from the back door of the classroom. Y/N managed to keep her tears at bay until she heard the door latch behind her, then let the silent tears create warm streams down her cheeks. In one swift motion, she lifted her hood up, concealing her face from the other students as she walked toward Harry’s classroom. 

It wasn’t a far walk, him being in the same department as Smith and all. She contemplated just sitting in a bathroom stall, the sharp pain in her abdomen and lower back was still going strong and the nausea stirring in her belly was still persistent, but the public humiliation she endured was definitely worse. She decided that the couch in the office was the better option, and if she was going to be sad and in pain, she might as well do it comfortably. 

The plan she concocted was this: She would walk into the room with her eyes glued to the floor and her hood up, ask Harry if it was okay if she laid down for a moment, and without making eye contact with him, she would quickly walk to the room then bury her face in the cushions.

So that is exactly what she did, barely peeking up from her hood.

“Is it okay if I lay down on the couch in the office?” she asked, internally grateful that the sob building in her throat hasn’t raked its way through her body. Another silent tear slid down her cheek, but because she was looking straight down, it splattered against his desk, causing him to cock an eyebrow that she couldn’t actually see. 

It seemed gravity was against her.

“Yeah, yeah. Of course,” his voice was softer than normal, and she heard the sound of his fingers tapping against the desk. 

Without another word, she turned on her heels and bolted toward the office door. Shutting it quickly behind her, she tore off her backpack and curled up into a ball on the couch. 

He didn’t even bother knocking like he normally did. Usually his knuckles would tap against the door, signifying he was about to answer. Not necessarily for permission, but just to give her, or Mallory, a heads up that he would be entering. 

The door locked behind him, but she didn’t look up as she heard the click of his dress shoes against the tile floor. “What’s going on?” He took a seat at the end of the couch she wasn’t occupying, near her head. 

With gentle and delicate fingers, he began to pull her limbs from the ball she had coerced herself into. “Hmmm.. Look at me, darling.” 

And how could she not? When he was asking so sweetly? The sound of his voice was like molten chocolate, or honey dripping straight from the pot. He was wearing her favorite shirt. The satin shirt that exposes his tattoos just a little bit. The same shirt he wore the first time she ever met him, when he caught her staring at his chest a little too much that he buttoned another button and gave her a somewhat disapproving but playful look. She thinks maybe if she could just run her hand over his chest she would forget about the terrible day she was having, but that was inappropriate and she shouldn’t think like that. 

“Oh, sweet thing you are,” his hand brushed a tear that fell from her cheek, “Come on, sit up for me now.”

She obliged, like she always does. As a child she never took a reprimand well, which must have bled into her adult life because she always did what she was told. It was something Harry picked up on rather quickly, she aimed to please, and the psychologist in him really wanted to get to the bottom of it, but the empath in him never wanted to make her uncomfortable by pointing it out. Sometimes he had to make a mental note that she was so receptive to the people around her, he had to choose his words carefully. 

She made a simple noise, between a yelp and a cry before wiping her nose with the back of her sleeve. “In pain,” was all she said.

He reached over, pulling a couple tissues from the end table next to the couch. Harry wrinkled his nose, realizing that it’s not uncommon for students to shed tears in this office, whether it be a student overwhelmed with the course load, or something else. Typically, he’s able to get to the bottom of it, but now he’s got his TA in here with tears streaming like Niagara Falls, and she only says she’s in pain, except he doesn’t believe that’s the full truth. 

Her legs were tucked to the side bunched up, and she leaned on her left arm to support herself up. He didn’t want to pry, or tell her he didn’t think she was being completely honest, because that wouldn’t accomplish anything. Instead, he decided he wouldn’t treat her like a patient, because that’s not what she was to him. She is a graduate student, and he was in her same position just a little under two years ago. He once told her that he wanted her to call him Harry because she felt more like a colleague than a student, so instead, he would treat her like a friend. 

“Let me help you, hm?” His fingers grazed her arm that was supporting her up, his eyes locking with her red rimmed ones. “How can I help?”

And it was almost like she knew if her request crossed a line, he would still grant it because her voice was small but sure when she said, “I just want someone to hold me.”

So, that’s what he did. He pulled her up onto his lap, and grasped her in his arms. Her face nuzzled into the crook of his neck, and he could feel the slow breaths she was taking as the tears finally came to a halt. It was almost like he was holding her back together. If they were crossing lines, he might as well cross one more, “Are you gonna be honest with me now, hm?”

She nodded her head, deciding now was the time to come clean. A weight that was pushing down on her shoulders was about to be lifted and even though she would have a hard time stomaching the embarrassment that came with it, or the look he would give her that might indicate she was stupid, it was time that she just told him. Before Mallory beat her to it, even if she was sure in the deep pit of her gut that Mallory would simply never bring it up. 

Y/N lets out a slow, shaky breath before she begins explaining. “I wasn’t feeling too great when I got to school, and during my second hour of abnormal psych, Mallory told me I should come lay down because the pain was getting really intense, so I decided to slip out the backdoor…” She trailed off, not quite sure how to tell him the rest without having to relieve the situation. Some might say she was being a little dramatic, but she had every right to be upset. He stroked her sides as if to tell her “go on” without explicitly saying the words. 

“As I was walking out Professor Smith asked where I was going and I told him that I wasn’t feeling too well,” the tears pricked once more, “So he said that I should probably stay if I didn’t want to get a D on another test in front of everyone.”

The smooth stroking against her arm came to a halt, and she realized then that he was probably going to chastise her for leaving class too, but his voice was soft when he said, “He said that to you?”

She nodded, even though she could tell the question was rhetorical. Her eyes fluttered closed again, the tips of her eyelashes gently grazing against the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart. That is never something you say to a student, especially in front of such a public audience.” His words flowed out, and she sensed the psychologist in him poking out.

“It was really, really embarrassing.” Y/N mumbled into the crook of his neck, and the feel of her lips against his neck made his body slightly tense up.

“Why didn't you tell me you got a D? I probably could have helped you work something out with him.” He reasoned with her, relaxing once more into the back of the couch. The encounter she was having with him right now was so much different than the encounter she had with him on Friday night, but neither of them brought it up.

She shook her head, nuzzling into him further and even though she knew it was inappropriate, she just wanted to breathe him in. They had already crossed those lines.

He wasn’t having it. He hooked his fingers below her chin, and pulled her face from his neck. “Hm? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t tell you because I’ve been flunking his tests all semester. There isn’t one test I got a decent grade on… And I was embarrassed, and I felt like a huge fraud sitting in this room, grading tests and not even understanding the content of them. And I just felt stupid. I didn’t want you to think I was stupid.”

“I would never think you’re stupid, Y/N. Surely you know that. I just wish you would have told me. There’s still time to turn your grade around, you and I will work together so that you start understanding the concepts. We’ll set up tutoring. Sweetheart, you’re so smart.” She knew he tacked on that last part for a little extra validation.

Now that she’s talked it out, she feels a little silly for letting so many tears spill over it. He was right, she wasn’t stupid. She just needed a little extra help, and he was willing to give it. She suddenly felt all too aware of her presence on his lap, and began to move herself off of it. Her eyes catching his lips as she shifted just a little, and the overwhelming urge to kiss him took over once more. If she could, she would grab his face then and there and plant one on him, but it felt demure and childish to lust in that way, even with Friday night playing in the back of her mind.

As if he could read the thoughts swimming through her brain, he brought his fingers to her lips and gently tugged at the pout. His fingers trailed down her jaw, and caressed an area of her neck. Her breathing began to pick up as her heart thumped against her ribcage. Sure, he would touch her every now and again when she was working alongside him, and as much as she wanted it to be intimate, it was never like this. She was almost halfway off his lap when he brought his lips— so soft, so gentle, and so pink— against her cool ones, leaving a slight tingling sensation behind. 

He gently pulled away, a sultry look dancing across his features. She felt the heat on her cheeks as she stared down into his lap, finally shifting herself completely off of his lap. When she looked up at him, she could tell the flush in his cheeks was not the same as the flush in hers. It was more desire than anything.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he breathed, his eyes fluttering closed with the end of his sentence.

No, no. Y/N didn’t want him to feel that way. He may have been a professor, but he wasn’t actually her professor, and they were so close in age. Surely if they were doing something wrong, it would have felt wrong. Last Friday would have felt wrong too, but it didn’t. If this wasn’t okay then it wouldn’t have felt so right, like his lips were made just for her and only her. “I wanted it.”

“I know you did,” he explained. “It was a vulnerable moment. It can’t happen again.”

She simply nodded in agreement, although she wanted to argue with him, even if it wasn’t in her nature to be so combative. Something washed over her because in that moment, the ache that was stabbing in her lower back didn’t matter, she just wanted to stomp her foot on the ground and tell him that wasn’t fair, but the worst part about it is that he would agree with her. That they had already beat the boundary down with a baseball bat. The moment he slipped his thigh in between her legs and pressed her against the wall of a bar, the boundary had vanished. When he brought his finger to her lips and she licked so slowly, so sensually, the boundary had been gone completely. How can they decide to put it back now? How could she when she finally knew what he tasted like. He knew it wasn’t fair to do that, but it shifted her feelings from sadness over her poor grades and the hostile situation she had just come from to placing her frustration toward him, and that was something he could deal with.

He stood up, a sudden aloofness filling the room. It was almost as if the tension was so thick it was banging on the doors and pushing at the windows to find its way out. Like he could feel its desperation to exit the room, he hooked his finger in the door knob and flung it open, cool air infiltrating the room and brushing over Y/N’s body.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, swiveling the chair near his desk around to face her. She knew he wasn’t talking about the kiss, the ever-so-soft-he-probably-didn't-mean-it-an unfriendly-way-kiss, he was talking about her cramps.

She held her lower belly, his eyes averting from how her hand slipped down her stomach and held, “Better. I think the pamprin is finally kicking in.”

“Good,” he offered a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and she wanted to pull her eyelashes out if the tension between them was going to cause a drift in their relationship, er? Friendship?

Y/N didn’t know what else to say, she didn’t want to make things more awkward than they already felt for her. Without looking at him directly, she gestured toward her shared desk with Mallory and made a slight shrugging motion with her shoulders. “Since I’m here I should probably just start working on what I’ll be starting in an hour anyway.”

He got up from the chair, and nodded in agreement. The aloofness was beginning to dissipate, as he offered up a grin that finally met his green eyes again. That’s the grin she looked forward to every single afternoon, though she didn't think she would ever be able to work up the courage to tell him. If there is one thing Harry picked up on in the short two months of her assisting him, she worked off of praise. The simplest thing, even just neatly organizing her and Mallory’s pens in a cup was something he would recognize and give her a thumbs up or mumble an appreciative wow, it looks great, Y/N, so that is what he was going to continue to do.

“You’re so efficient,” he praised, “But I don’t want you to start if you’re not feeling completely better yet. Why don’t you just take an hour or so to lay down, hm?”

Even though she wanted to start her work right away, she knew he was right and was only looking out for her, so she mumbled a small “okay” in a very reluctant tone.

He took a few steps in the direction toward the classroom and out of the office before quickly turning around and asking her a question he did not want to forget, “When are you available for tutoring?”

She wanted to tell him to just forget about it, and that she didn’t need his help as the pride twisted and turned in her brain, but she had a strong feeling that he was going to be disappointed in her if she said, forget it, and Y/N didn’t know if she could handle much more disappointment from the people around her in one day.

“Every day after I finish here, I’m free,” her words were small and slow as they fell from her lips.

“That’s perfect, after school we can either sit in here and work or the library, or even my flat if you’re not feeling comfortable in the library,” he listed quite a few options, then finally walked out of the office and shut the door behind him, leaving Y/N to her thoughts.

Her fingers slowly touched her lips, trying to remember the feeling of his lips against hers. She didn’t want to forget any details. His woodsy cologne filled her nostrils, and she could almost see that alluring look swimming in his eyes.

To put it plainly, she just wanted to scream in frustration.

___________

Harry was so screwed and he knew it from the second she stepped foot in the door of his classroom. The way her eyes averted from his and toward the plain wall behind him, the way she marveled at the tattoos that peaked from the tops of shirts (which he realized he would show them off more now, just so he could catch her lingering gaze and watch her quickly look away in embarrassment. Maybe it said something about him, but he loved to watch her become flustered), or the way her hand trembled just barely as she handed him the paper which confirmed she was his assistant that first day.

When he saw her at the bar on Friday night and the way her body responded to him, the way she was just so eager to please, he knew the thoughts he was having weren’t just one-sided. It was hard to get her off of his mind, he hadn’t experienced this kind of attraction in a long while. The psychologist in him tried to reason that it was because it felt somewhat forbidden— even though the school rules didn’t go completely against it, she just couldn’t TA for him anymore or ever take a class with him as her professor— he knew it was much more than that.

She spoke eloquently, her walk was captivating, her smile was innocent, and she just felt good to him. He thinks maybe whoever created the flowers that grew in the crevices of sidewalk, creating beauty in the most absurd places, possibly made her too. She was just like that, a captivating flower amongst the mundane world around her, blooming to the best of her ability and relying on the sunshine that sometimes came and went.

She was just special to him.

so tea bestie. and when u get home and get down to business he acts like nothings wrong and at first u think everything’s fine and he’s truly forgotten abt u being a brat but then he refuses to ACTUALLY fuck u🤭like he just keeps rubbing his dick up and down ur pussy and slapping it with his cock and every time u get close he just stops and it’s driving u insane. yeah <3

yeah <3

“What are you doing?” she exhales, miffed, when his tip lingers against her cunt.

“What d’you mean?” Harry volleys back, voice strained and accent thicker than ever. He glides the tip in a languid motion up to her clit and back down pointedly, “M’prepping.”

“Prepping,” Y/N hums, head ticking with pique, “Are you prepping for a long nap or something?”

His gaze flits to her own, suddenly dark and spilling with tension, “M’prepping to gag you, that’s for what. Shut the fuck up and lay still.”

She inhales, her muscles buzzing with a restless yearning when his head slaps against her bundle of nerves. Bucks up off the mattress. A strong grip shoots out over her hip, pinning her to the bed, crescents in her skin abaft his short, teal-polished nails.

“I said to stay still. Touching my dick in public isn’t so nice when it doesn’t fuck you after, is it?”