Y/N works at a sex shop and Harry's shy (Patreon)

:D I hope you like this!

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Harry’s ridiculously nervous. With cheeks ripe and red as apples as he steps through the door of a very obscure shop right off Maple, far enough from the main grocery store most everyone goes to off campus, but near enough that he wasn’t worried about being at a sketchy part of town. The windows were blocked out by dark paper, purple LED lights stripping the sills, and glowing OPEN sign. The only indication that this was the place he was so damn nervous to be even remotely near was the name of the store. 

Erotic Necessities 

Harry shouldn’t be here -- he really, really shouldn’t be here probably. At least not by himself. . .he should’ve invited Liam along or Cal or summat so someone could actually show him what he should get, and he figures you look a lot less creepy at a sex store when someone’s with you. But he’d been saving up his tip money from the diner he worked at for this toy that’s supposed to feel real and for a shy virgin, that just sounded delightful. What got him off plenty of nights when he’s just got his hand and his thoughts because the video he tried to watch was crummy and he’d tossed his phone to the side in a pre-orgasmic virginal huff. ‘

He didn’t want to order it online though -- he’d read too many horror stories about finding one for “cheap” to do it, so instead he did some digging about suitably priced sex stores around him and this one came up to boot. It was clean -- it didn’t look or feel grimy or dirty, but that didn’t stop Harry from feeling like a creep. Standing with his hands in his pockets, looking back and forth nervously, trying to decide where he should go when all he’s seeing are forearm sized dildos that he just couldn’t imagine where they’d be going. 

Harry’s about to pivot on his heel and hot tail it out of there, when a voice catches his ears, making him leap off his bones. It’s not so much that he was startled by the noise of it, as much as he was startled that it sounded familiar, “Do you need any help, Sir?” 

His eyes dart to his left, where he sees the girl -- the one who sits about a few rows down from him in his Abnormal Psych lecture, who he overhears is incredibly smart when helping the boy beside her study right before the test (before promptly offering him to cheat as soon as the professor walks in the room). He’s pretty sure Liam has hung out with her a few times too, if his social media is anything to go by, though he doesn’t know her name. A girl who he’ll have to see every week, three days a week after seeing him here. . .right here. . .and possibly with a toy.

“I -- um --” 

“Oh, I know you!” Her smile is. . .pleasant. Not snarky or sneaky, but one that exudes an incredible warmth he would no expect from someone who works at a store like this, “You’re in my Abnormal Psych lecture, right? With Dr. Smith?” Harry clears his throat, looking at her bug eyed, feeling his blood run cold but he nods anyway. What was he going to do? Say no, and still face her this Friday? See accusing eyes that realize he’d lied to her and what if she hated liars? Loathed them well enough that she’d go out of her way to spread his dirty little secret to. . .well, to who he doesn’t know, but anybody knowing at all is terribly mortifying. “The requirements for that essay are ridiculous. Nine pages? How are we meant to explain the intricacies of a mental illness in only nine damn pages?” She huffs an irritated sigh, “What’re you here for then? Can I offer any help?” 

Harry suddenly doesn’t remember how to speak much at all, tongue weighing heavy in his mouth as his gaze flitters around the room anxiously, landing back on her and seeing she has her head tilted, waiting for him to respond. He doesn’t think he can though, clearing his throat, barely working out a, “M’just -- m’just looking.” 

She nods, smiling softly, “Okay, browse as you wish, however I do recommend the fourth aisle, there’s markdowns on the fleshlights.” 

His face must have turned ruby red, he’s sure of it, because how did she know? Did she know? Did he look like someone who would obviously be looking for a fleshlight? His heart feels like it’s beating in his stomach and he thinks his eyes may water from the mere embarrassment alone! Again, his mouth opens and closes around the air dumbly, looking from her to the ground, and then to aisle three. 

Very suddenly, he hears a soft sigh, and in about a nanosecond  she’d stepped off the elevated podium-like flooring they had the cash register placed on -- a clear counter with various lubes and condoms presented like a platinum watch or diamond ring might be presented on soft velvet cushioning. A gentle hand touches to his fingers, giving him a careful squeeze, “Listen,” she begins, “There’s no shame in being here, yeah? Humans are sexual beings; there can be an art in the ways we express ourselves sexually and there is nothing wrong with that. Certain things feel good! And why should we feel embarrassed for feeling good?” Though he hadn’t thought anything could soothe him in his moments here, her words work through his tense muscles like the Carisoprodol his friend Lou got after a skiing accident. “And if you’re worried I’m g’na spill the goods about you coming here, then you’re sorely mistaken. Firstly, I wouldn’t -- you wouldn’t come back and that’s bad business. Secondly, even if I were to be so inclined to spread your business, I work here Pet, don’t you think they’d be more concerned with that than you visiting once?” She gives another squeeze, “Okay?” 

His cheeks were still rosy but his mind set more at easy, nodding, “Okay.” 

A grin blossoms back onto her mouth, “Good. Now c’mon, I’ll show you the ropes.” She takes him with her through the aisles, and normally Harry would be panicked that she wasn’t leaving -- he usually really can’t stand when customer service doesn’t leave him alone -- but he wants her around, he finds. He’d feel much more comfortable with her near him, especially if anybody else comes in, and he wonders if this is why the seats around her are always full during exam days. The aura she exudes is one of pure warmth and comfort; he bets her home smells like a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies or a sugar spun candle, with thick comfy blankets hand knitted by a society of grandmothers, and a soft crackling fireplace. 

Eventually she lets go of his hand but he kind of wished she’d kept holding onto it, “So really, whatever you want to use in this store you’re welcome to purchase, but we do have it split up in a certain way. The things at the far right end of the aisles are typically more for beginners -- smaller sizes in things like dildos, plugs, ben wa balls, etc. As you get closer to the counter, the more intense things get. Vibrators are along that far right wall, there’s some bondage sets right next to that, and more hardcore masochism, sadism type things. Aisles four through six are various types of fleshlights, from your standard, to studded, pornstar molds, the lot of them. I only suggested the fourth aisle because a lot of them are marked down and they usually aren’t, so you can save yourself some money if this is what you’re going for. Plus, we’ve got a nifty fifteen percent off student discount.” 

“Thank you,” he smiles, “A lot. Thank you.” 

“Course,” she drops her eyelid in a playful wink, “If you want to feel one --” she plucks one off the rack, opening it, “Just crack it open and have a feel on it! You’re supposed to wash them once you get them home anyway, so it doesn’t matter.” 

There before him, she presents it, exactly what he’d been thinking about for the past few months. His heart thumps from the excitement of it, his cock doing a gentle twitch in it’s interest. She touches at the soft, squishy material and nods at him, telling him to have a feel too, “A majority of them feel like this outside but I know what you’re seeking is inside, so go ahead, do as you need! I’ll slip in some sample toy cleaners when you checkout.” She slips it into his hand, smiling, “Let me know if you need anything else, yeah?” 

It took him some time, but Harry eventually found the one he wanted. It was colored clear, these soft, flexible studs on the inside that start broad at the bottom, skinny-ing into these little wisps and he can practically feel it. Tries to quiet his excited jitters while he walks up to the counter, placing it near the register and Y/N looks up from where she’s hunched over writing something, shooting him a smile, “This is the winner, then?” She plucks it up from the counter, scanning it without a second thought, “Perfect! Have heard lovely things about this guy. Now I need ya to show me your student ID so it can get picked up on the camera in case we get robbed in the next two hours before my shift is over, and while they’re tryna pin the guy they figured out I skewed from protocol ‘cos I’ve got a class with you.” It’s a mouthful but it makes Harry feel better that she’s speaking as she slips the box into the bag, along with a handful of samples. He slides it over to her and she makes a show of inspecting it, sliding it back to him but Harry’s sliding his card in the reader and scrawling a messy signature on the screen. 

She hands the bag to him, “Okay, you’re all set!” Her voice is bright, “Have fun.” 

“Thank you,” he hums, before he briskly walks from the store, a skip in his step. 

He’s never been so stoked to nut off in his life. 

                                                      .                                     .                                .

Harry hadn’t gotten to use his toy yet. 

He wanted to! He really did, but the girl had mistakenly put a whole lot of lube packet samples instead, and he hasn’t had a chance to go back and get any cleaner, so he’s just been sticking to his hand and amping himself up for the day that he did get to use it. It was still in its box, hidden in his dresser, deep within his underwear drawer and he planned on swinging by there after all his lectures were through. 

As he sat in his Abnormal Psych lecture, he was absently hoping/praying that she would be the one working when he went so that he wouldn’t have to reintegrate himself feeling even slightly comfortable in the store -- when there’s a gentle tap on his shoulder, accompanied with someone plopping down in the seat besides him. Low and behold, the girl is sat besides him, sliding his Student ID over to him on the long stretch of desk. 

“You left this at cafe in the Student Union,” she told him, not showing an inkling of a clue that she might be alluding to something else, and  Harry’s eyes go wide, realizing that he’d gone and left his bloody ID! In his haste to get off, he’d just left it, and that’s ridiculous, but he’s never been more thankful in his life. 

“Thank you.” She nods, “Do you mind if I sit here?” 

“Not at all,” he smiles, heart filling with her warmth, before it strikes him that she knows what kind of toy he likes and he hasn’t even asked her the most basic question, “What’s your name?” 

“Y/N!” She raises her hand out to him, “Nice to meet you.” 

                                                          .                               .                               .

After the lecture (and after Harry finally got his mind to stop swirling with how thankful he was to have this girl be the one he bought his toy from), they chat as they walk down the stairs, and it turns that they’re going in the same direction anyway. Though it’s when they get to a more secluded part of the campus, where there were seldom people walking around, that she lowers her voice and asks, “So was it great?” 

It takes him a second to realize what she meant, but once he does, he pulls his mouth up in a slant, “I couldn’t yet,” he admits, “There was no cleaner for it.” 

Her voice drops into a pout, “I knew I’d messed up,” she grumbles, “I always grab from the lube bin instead of the cleaner bin. They need to label them for fucksake!” She places a hand on his shoulder as they come up on a fork in the pathway, turning to him with ernest eyes, “I’ll bring you some free, yeah?” 

“Wha--” he begins but she shakes her head quick. 

“Meet me at the library tonight at 8, top floor, next to the booths that they have with the ones overlooking the university, far back left,” she pulls her backpack more securely over her shoulders, “I’ll be there with some free cleaner, lubricant, and a croissant. Feel like right shit that you’ve had to prolong it.” 

Harry doesn’t have a chance to stop her because she’s turned right and is trucking it down the pavement. 

He’s fairly certain he’s stumbled upon an angel.