Frat!boy Harry blurb (Patreon)

Just a small little something cute! If y'all ever want more of these two just let me know :) 

*edit* I defo goofed the first bit up but I fixed it! 

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Y/N has never in her life, felt more like a tired 80's movie cliche. 

She’d been asked out on a date, like a proper date to the movies, and she’d been ecstatic about it. The boy who’d asked her was cute -- his name was Jamie, he sat next to her in their Astronomy lecture, and they talked a lot about everything and nothing when they’re given time to work in class with their “shoulder buddies”. A crush had begun to fester because really, Y/N might have a crush on any person who compliments her shirt, or her brain, or her laugh (which she didn’t like all too much). So it was only natural for her, to feel jittery and excited when he’d asked her to go see a horror film with him, “. . .not as friends, but like a date? A date, date -- if that’s okay?” and she’d answered with a bright sure! before promptly messaging Liam that she had successfully hit the jackpot. 

And maybe she got a little too excited and gave him a blowie in the basement supply closet of the science building because nobody really goes in there and it’s always open, but that’s neither here nor there. 

They’d texted the night before to confirm the time of the movie, which movie, the theatre -- everything. Y/N went back and reread them about a thousand separate times when she gets there for the 6:30PM showing at the theatre right across from a burger place called Peggie’s Pretty Patties. She messages him to see where he was, and she gets no response for a good thirty minutes. 

Y/N felt her heart drop into her stomach, shoulders slumping at the realization of what was happening to her. For some reason she’d convinced herself at twelve that she’d never allow herself to be stood up, so the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind as a possibility. Especially because she’d spent so much time panicking, getting ready, showering, trying to pick something to wear and what she wanted to smell like. Especially because it was Jamie, and he was so sweet usually, there was no way that he could do that -- no way he could be that much of a prick. 

But alas, she was proven wrong, because by the time all the people who had went into the film’s showing at her time had begun filtering out, she was on her second refill of a slushy, and she’d still received no response. 

So she abruptly stands in a huff to throw away her things and hottail it out of there before she was spotted by the same usher asks if she needs help, but as she does she bumps into something. Or, someone, actually, who must be built like a fucking rock because she gets thrown back some while her slushy, as cold and sticky as it could be, splashes up her front. Looking up, she sees none other than Harry Styles. 

Harry was. . .Harry was something for sure. He was every girl and boy’s daydream frat boy, with soft brown curls that tickle at his ears, pretty seafoam green eyes that he lures you in with, promises of treating you as if you’re the only person in the world. Skin so smooth and near flawless that you’ll question if he’s a human or some alien species. A chuckle so inviting that it might just be the best thing you’ve ever heard. An odd duck with a quick witty tongue and a way of persuading with a smile alone that you should probably get on your knees and give him a blowie until he’s emptied all he has to give onto your tongue and then you say thank you. Y/N would know because she’d been there before, last year at a party his frat had been throwing, and while it had been a fun night for Harry, he’d taken her virginity that night. Had she told him that? Not exactly. Had she still been terribly mad at him though for making her feel so special and then fucking off and merely giving her small nods in the halls if he saw her? Yes. Hell yes, actually. 

He was probably the last person she wanted to see right now, especially when his lips turn up in a smile, “Sorry, Pet -- s’the first time I’ve gotten someone wet like this before.” It was reminiscent of the night they had become accustomed to each other, when he’d saturated her pants with his drink before she could even drink her first. In a guilt filled haste he had ushered her up to his room, offered her a pair of sweatpants, and throughout all of it they were talking. Talked for much longer than it would’ve taken to go change her pants as she had told her friends she was doing, and soon Harry was kissing her, lowering her to his bed, taking off the pants he’d just given her to put on. 

She remembered it so vividly. Remembered how he looked at her, like he might be trying to soak up every feature that she had on her face to offer him. The way he smoothed his lips over hers, melded them together, suckling at her bottom lip until she squeaked and licked into her mouth. How he parted with a small laugh, murmuring against her, “You taste so good -- like candies.” Before he had dipped back in and taken as much as she had to offer, kissing her breathless as he had begun moving them further onto the bed “is this okay?” he’d asked as he did so, and she nodded quick. Y/N had been so ready, lifting up her hips to help him guide the pants off of her legs, tossing them off the side of the bed. He’d split her thighs for him, running the pads of his thumbs up the juncture of her lips, dipping into the apex of where they meet her mound, “Cute little panties -- how’d y’know I like these frilly little bows, huh? S’like you put ‘em on specially for me.” She’d giggled and it only made his grin widen, reaching up to pluck at her bottom lip, “God, you’re precious. M’lucky.” 

But if you would have asked her then, she was the lucky one. In that moment, she’d never felt more desired and wanted in her god damn life. He leaned down to kiss her again, slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties, found her clit, and rolled the button beneath two fingers. Reached down and stopped her thighs from shutting around him, holding her open as he drew back, looking down between them, “Christ, you’re dripping. S’all this fo’ me?” He’d tucked his face into her throat and when she’d nodded, she felt his lips curve up into a smile against her pulse, while he slipped his fingers inside of her. Pressed in deep and curved up his fingers, prodding at that spongy bump inside of her, she’d only ever heard of feeling so good. It made her legs tremble, and her heart pound, and her back arch. 

When he’d sunk down, sucking and kissing and nipping at all different parts of her body, her heart had raced even more, crescendoing to a peak when he’d licked a stripe up her panties. Pulled them off her legs, gave her a sneaky look and bit down on his bottom lip, “You smell good,” he’d murmured against her, “G’na eat you right up.” And he hadn’t been lying, as he dipped his tongue into her, slurping and kissing and sucking like he’d been made to do it -- like he was starving and she could feed him like this. He’d made her cum the first time like that, moaning against her when her body tensed and she squeezed around his fingers still fucking into her deep, stretching her out, getting her ready. He didn’t know she was a virgin, but he was a proper gentleman, she had thought, since he actually cared if she was opened up and wet for him. 

He didn’t ask her to return the favor, merely shook his head when she reached down for his cock and hummed, “Lovie, if I don’ get inside you, m’afraid I might nut off too quick.” It made her giggle and settle down back into the bed, watching as he slid his pants down his legs and his cock bobbed out, big and hard and the sight of it alone brought a shudder down her back. How that was supposed to fit in her? She couldn’t tell you, but she was still excited. Still opened up right for him.

He’d rolled on a condom, crawled back atop of her, and leaned down to kiss her again, “This is still, okay?” She’d nodded, and the head budded at her hole, painting up and down her slit until he began to slowly sink in. 

It hurt some -- the stretch was intense, along with the pressure she felt when she’d gasped, “You’re so big!” Not even meaning to have a reaction, but she’d made him moan so loud into the crook of her throat as she sunk all the way down, “Fuck.” He’d groaned, “G’na make me cum too soon, if you keep being this cute.” 

Was it dumb that her heart fluttered thinking he’d remembered that? Very much so, but that doesn’t stop it from happening. 

“Fuck off,” she grumbles idly, tears beading at her eyes, “Just fuck off, okay?” 

Harry’s brows immediately furrow, affronted by her words, “Whoa, whoa, what’s wrong with you then?” He watches as she pushes herself from the ground, a wet drop slipping down her cheek as she struggles for a shaky breath, “Hey, hey, hey,” he looks alarmed, like he doesn’t know what to do, “Christ, what’s happened? You’re normally a little firecracker --” 

“I’m not normally shit,” she picks up her now empty slushy container and her popcorn baggy, tossing them into the wastebin, “You don’t know a damn thing about me, since you decided I was nothing but a fuck but I guess that’s all I’m good for anyways huh? Because god forbid someone actually want to get to know me.” A small sob threatens to rattle her chest but she won’t let it -- she’s too angry for it -- but when she looks at Harry, who is confused and has a face akin to a kicked puppy, guilt begins to overcome her to some degree. Sure, he’s a prick, but he wasn’t the reason she was so upset right now. Maybe he’d contributed to it last year, but maybe it wasn’t fair -- he hadn’t known that night had meant so much to her. 

So she shakes her head, “I’m sorry,” she apologizes, “I’m sorry, I’m fine just -- just had a rough night is all.” 

He doesn’t seem to take this and leave though, pouting his mouth at her, “Oi, pet, that’s no good. Someone as pretty as you shouldn’t be crying.” Reaching out, he squeezes her shoulder, “Here, how ‘bout we turn around a shit night then, yeah? I’ve got some extra clothes in the car that you can change into.” Y/N eyes him, unsure, but he gives her another squeeze, “C’mon, yeah? You’re breaking my heart Y/N, I’ve never seen you lookin’ so broken.” 

How the hell have you been seeing me at all? Is what she wants to say but she doesn’t even question it. Figures he must’ve seen her around different parties and whatnot, but that’s party Y/N who is completely different than just regular Y/N. Party Y/N is extroverted, loves to dance, ready to take a body shot off any human insight and, if given the right circumstances, would whip off her top and not give two shits whether or not she’s wearing a bra. 

That’s the girl Harry had wanted in his bed that night. That’s probably the girl that Jamie heard about and decided he wanted to have a go at. 

She gathers her things as he guides her out to the car, hand a comforting presence pressed to the small of her back. The cold, sticky feeling of the remnants of the slushy only worsens as they step outside, the air tickling up her skin, cooling the tear tracks on her cheeks and dragging a shiver from her body. Harry shushes her sweetly, rubbing the area where his hand lay reassuringly, “S’okay, g’na get you all warmed up, yeah?” 

“Y-you don’t get to be nice right now.” She grumbles, “M’mad at you, you don’ get to be nice.” 

Harry unlocks his car, all slick, black and fancy as he reaches into the backseat, only reemerging when he’s got wet wipes and a big sweater. He hands them both to her and keeps the door held open so she can climb in and change, “Why’re you mad at me then, huh?” He questions her as she peels the material from her body, “Last time we spent this much time together, I thought we had fun?” 

“Last time we spent this much time together was a year ago, Harry,” she tells him, wiping away the juice on her stomach, before reaching for the sweater, and when she gazes over to him, she can see he’s confused, brows tipped in and a look like he didn’t know why that was bad. And maybe it was just the straw that broke the camel’s back -- maybe she was just pissy, and tired of acting like she wasn’t being eaten up inside, but she rolls her eyes at him, “God, you’re fucking clueless! I was a virgin, you dummy. You took my virginity, then rolled out of bed, pulled on your sweatpants and let me know that you had a test on Monday that you should probably study for ‘cos you were too much of a wimp to say you wanted me out.” She stuffs herself inside the sweater, ignoring the warmth that bubbles around her being all wrapped up in his scent, “Which I get it, I do -- virginity is a social construct anyway, it shouldn’t even mean this much to me, but it did and you’re very good at acting like you care, so it still hurts to think about but whatever.” 

It feels good to get it out, and as she climbs from the back of the car she has every intention of leaving, “Thanks for the clothes. I’ll wash them n’give them to Liam so he can return them.” But he doesn’t give her a chance to walk away, reaching out to grab her wrist. 

When she looks back towards him, he looks distraught as ever -- a panic dribbling from his face, shaking his head, “I’m so sorry, I -- I didn’t know.” His mouth is dropped in a frown, “I had no idea.” 

“Well how could you have? I sure didn’t tell you -- didn’t tell anyone, really, was embarrassed for some reason.” She shrugs, “But what’s done is done, I shouldn’t have even brought it up. Don’t worry about --” 

“I am worried about it, though,” he tells her, and her heart skips a beat as the grip around her wrist tightens, “I’ve been a right prick! Thought you just wanted a quick fuck at a party, I didn’t know that you...I’m so sorry, Lovie, this is all so wrong,” he shakes his head, “Would’ve done everything so different. Would go back in time if I could.” 

(Because little had Y/N known, Harry liked her an awful lot. Thought she was smart and funny and so damn cute the night that he had met her, but he’d thought she didn’t particularly want anything to do with him afterwards. At least, he’d heard about her before then, and had been decently sure she’d hooked up with a bloke called Brady a week or so prior to their meeting and Brady had cemented the fact that she wanted nothing to do with him after the fact. And as sad as that fact had made him, he tried to worm it so it’d been easy for the both of them -- so that she wouldn’t have to feel awkward, hurting his feelings or anything, so he’d offered that line about his exam in hopes that it would put ease on the situation. Had he known what he did now, after such a night as amazing as that one, he would of held her close. Would have cleaned her up, made sure she was okay -- if he had even fucked her at all! He might have wanted to take her on dates first, do things properly if he’d known that he wasn’t only going to have her for one night. But he should’ve known -- from the way her eyes had saddened -- he should’ve known something was different.) 

The amount in which he cares, sort of rattles her cage if she’s honest. Hadn’t thought for a second that he would care this much -- hell, she’d kind of written him off as such an easy-going guy that he didn’t care much about anything. But the sorrow drowning his gaze is unshakeable, and she feels his regret transmitting to her in wave after helpless wave. 

“Let me make it up to you, yeah? Or at the very least try?” She tilts her head at him, “There’s a 24 hour diner just around the corner from here. I’ll buy you a milkshake n’a burger -- won’t make up for being such a prick for so long, but it’s a start innit?” 

Y/N eyes him for a moment, searching for any inkling that would suggest he’s fucking with her, but he looks terribly sincere, and she doesn’t have shit all to do anyways.

“Okay,” she answers, “But you’re definitely paying. And I want french fries too.” 

A small bead of relief seems to trickle on his face as he nods. 

“Anything you want.”