Harry Styles One Shots

Part 5 of Harry is Y/N's new bodyguard and Y/N is sure they've met before

[WARNING: violence, guns, knives, blood, mentions of murder]

v.

Harry can't stop thinking about it.

Under normal circumstances, Harry might allow himself to revel in the memories for a while. How couldn't he? Y/N was an absolute dream on top of him; responsive and sweet, all bratty tendencies that she held dear to her in daily life evaporated in thin air. She held onto him so tightly, her moans were honeyed, vibrating against his mouth while they kissed and made his heart feel tender. The flesh beneath his hands was soft, she was receptive to his groping and squeezing, caressing her like he would be tested on the slopes and planes of her body. Harry remembered how her tongue slipped and slid against his, and that – god, he really, really couldn't stop thinking about it.

But he had to make the effort not to. Desperately did he want to tease her about her pretty whines and the way she gripped his biceps like he might disappear if she let him go. He itched to bring it up at every moment there was a lull in the conversation, or when she was being a brat or after he was in the shower and his hand lingered on his prick a little longer than necessary while he washed. The words danced on the tip of his tongue when she was slouched over him, pouting, nuzzling her head against his chest, and trying to get him to play with her hair.

She was embarrassed; the morning after, she hid her face in his chest and whined about it. He was giggling, letting her hide, holding her close while she complained, "I was humping you like a freaking dog," she huffed, "And you didn't even cum! Thinking about you hearing me moan even, I could crawl under a fucking rock."

"Stop," he'd laughed, petting her head, "You're being silly, I liked it! You were cute –"

"I don't want to be cute –"

"Okay you were hot, sexy, beautiful, it was great," he pinched her hip, pulled her leg over his thighs, and held her closer because any moment like this with Y/N – where she's willingly being vulnerable and open and touchy – Harry would milk for all it was worth, "And who said I didn't cum? That was just afterward."

"Harry!"

Harry isn't evil — she's bashful and flustered over it, he wasn't going to keep bringing it up, even though when she gets timid it's just...delicious. There wasn't time for that right now, with everything going on Harry just wanted her to feel good. He wanted her to feel content and without worry while she was here with him, while things were still getting settled. He would bite his tongue to avoid his never-ending desire to tease merely to save her from the inner turmoil he knew she was letting nibble at her. If she wanted to brush it under the rug for now – to table it for a later date – then he would let her. If she wanted to talk about it before they left to go back home and explore this aspect of their relationship further, he would encourage it.

Whatever she wanted is whatever Harry wanted to do.

Things were good there, even more so with his secret out in the open. Telling her was easier than he'd initially thought it would be. Y/N's default state, most of the time, is halfway to exasperated already, so he could only imagine how annoyed she would be at the information. He expected more scoffing, more I knew it!'s, and an intensive line of questioning as to why he felt the need to carry the lie on for so long when they both knew that she knew. He'd been worried that instead of pulling them closer together as he had hoped, it would thrust a distrusting wedge between them. And the thought of that made his heart weep – they'd spent so much time developing their relationship as it was, and he really would be heartbroken if all of that was dismantled over some stupid lie. One that, in the grand scheme, barely matters now that he thinks about it.