**This HARRY STYLES one shot is rated ‘R’ and inspired by a request for a one shot set to Katy Perry’s ‘Teenage Dream.’ I actually listened to the Boyce Avenue cover while writing it, so if you’re going to listen to the song, and I strongly recommend you do, listen to the Boyce Avenue cover, it’s much more romantic. Enjoy!
“Harry?” you ask, quietly knocking on his bedroom door.
“Yea, come on in,” he calls out.
You open the door and step it, pulling the door closed softly behind you. Stepping into his room, it hits you. You’ve come here thinking something is going to happen. Thinking that he’s going to be the perfect lover. What if he wants to do something you don’t want to do? What if he does something and it hurts? What if he just laughs at you, and completely shatters your heart? Are you ready for that kind of rejection? You bite your lip, suddenly unsure of yourself. Maybe you shouldn’t have had that drink before you came up. Then again, maybe you should have had more than just the one. He’s looking at his computer, the glow lighting up his face, casting shadows and making his eyes stand out. They’re the brightest green you’ve ever seen. You take a deep breath and move further in, shuffling your feet and looking around, at a loss for how to begin.
“Hey, what’s up?” Harry asks, noticing your hesitancy.
“Nothing, it’s just…” you start, your breath catching in your throat, which has tightened now that you think about actually saying the words. Those damnable, life-changing words.
“What’s going on?” he says, concern creeping into his voice. “Has something happened?” he shuts his computer and turns on the lamp sitting on his bedside table. It floods the room with a soft yellow light. You can clearly see his shirtless torso, subtly muscled and flawless.
“No, I just came over to spend time with you,” you say, cringing inwardly at how needy you sound. “I mean…to be with you.”
“Oh, is that all?” Harry chuckles. “I thought maybe something horrible had just happened, you look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”
“I don’t just mean sit here, Harry,” you say, somehow finding the courage to be bold. “I mean I’ve come to be with you. I think…I think I’m ready.”
“Ready for…” Harry trails off. Suddenly, understanding sparkles in his widening eyes. “Oh…you mean, READY ready?”
Unable to vocalize anything, you slowly nod your head. He gets up and walks over to you, pulling you into a warm embrace. His arms wrap around you all the way and he holds you close, burying his face into your neck.
“We don’t have to, I promise, it’s ok,” he says reassuringly. It’s been months already and you haven’t done anything. Not one damn thing.
“No, I’m sure,” you say into his chest. You notice goosebumps rise on his skin as your whispered breath washes over it.
“Ok then,” he says, stepping back and pulling you to the bed. He slowly pulls the covers back and rearranges the pillows. Reaching into the side table drawer, he pulls out a condom. You see it and swallow hard, steeling yourself. You reach up under your shirt and unhook your bra, sliding your arms out of the straps and pulling your shirt off in one swift, practiced motion. The air is a little cold and you feel your nipples tighten. Looking back up at you, Harry sees your breasts and smiles a stupid little smile. He leans in and kisses you, setting the condom down on the bed. He lays his now free hand on your waist and pulls you on top of him as he lays on his back. You melt in his arms, excited by the kiss and the fact that your naked breasts are now gently pressed against his naked chest. His skin is so soft.
He plays with the waist of your skirt, a delicate, floral thing that your grandmother bought for you. He doesn’t do anything unwanted. You nod, lips still dancing with his and rock your hips a little, inviting him to pull your skirt off. He does, quickly, and you shiver as his warm hands slide along the bare skin of your thighs. His hands rest again on your waist, just above the band of your white, cotton panties. You reach for one and pull it to your chest, giving him permission to hold your breasts. He does, gingerly, as if he might hurt you. His hand molds perfectly to the curve of your breast, his fingers sliding softly over your already hard nipple. You shiver again at the sensation, so new from anything you’ve felt before.
Emboldened by the contact, you grip his shoulders and roll, pulling him on top of you. He laughs softly and breaks the kiss, standing up and looking down at you.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he says, his eyes burning bright as they glide over your prone body. He pulls his boxers off and you blush hotly as his naked body is suddenly displayed before you. He’s already hard, and bigger than you though he would be. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer. You curve your back and lift your hips, pulling your panties down enough for him to realize you want him to finish taking them off. He reaches forward and takes hold of them, sliding them down your legs, his thumbs trailing behind, leaving your skin feeling like you’ve been burned. He pulls them over your feet and catches hold of your calf. He leans forward and kisses your ankle, the inside of your knee, and your inner thigh. You let him slide you back so he can kneel on the bed in front of you, his firm erection standing straight up. He bends forward and reaches for the condom, kissing your breast as he leans by them. Unwrapping it, he rolls the condom onto himself. He takes your thighs and gently pulls you to him. You nod and take a deep breath.
He drops his hips, positions himself , and slowly enters you. It hurts, god it hurts. You squeeze your eyes close in a feeble attempt to block out the pain. Suddenly there’s a sharp stab between your legs as he pushes himself deeper.
“Stop!” you gasp, pulling yourself away and biting your lip.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Harry quickly apologizes, stepping away.
“No, I…” you start, feeling the years build. How embarrassing. Like Harry would want you now, knowing that you were a virgin.
“Hey, don’t,” Harry says, sitting on the bed beside you and gently cupping your face. “Don’t cry, look we don’t have to. We can just talk, it’s ok. There’s no need to rush.”
“No, I want to. I don’t know why I said stop,” you say, looking apologetically into his eyes, blinking back your tears. “I just…I should have been expecting it. It just surprised me is all.”
Harry doesn’t look convinced, and you realize he really is willing to completely stop and just talk through the night.
“Really, I want to,” you say, swallowing back a sob. Maybe you’ve ruined it. Oh, god, maybe he’ll never want to see you again.
“Ok,” Harry says. “Just tell if something hurts or if I’m going to fast.”
You nod as he sits up again and repositions himself. Taking your thighs again, he looks you straight in the eye and starts again. He gently pushes into you, and it doesn’t hurt as bad this time. He goes deeper and the pain begins to feel good. Strange as it is, pleasure begins to pulse from within you, and you arch your back, pulling him in further. You look down and realize he’s inside you all the way. You take a ragged breath as he slides back and stops just short of pulling out. He pushes in again, a little faster this time, and you let your head drop onto the bed as the pleasure blooms between your legs. A soft moan escapes your lips and close your mouth quickly, ashamed that you made such a pornographic sound.
“Don’t do that,” Harry says, gently tapping his thighs against yours before pulling back again. “Don’t stop yourself. If it feels natural, if it’s what you need to do, do it.”
He pushes back in again, faster, deeper, and a low moan swells in your chest and explodes out of your mouth. He’s going at it now, really moving and it feels so good. You never knew it would be like this. Sure, you’ve got friends who’ve had sex before, and you’ve read plenty of magazine articles about it, but this was unlike nothing you’d ever heard of. Having him push into and pull out of you is a fully satisfying, amazingly wonderful feeling. The pleasure spikes and you gasp, looking down. You see Harry’s left hand still gripping your thigh, pulling you onto him as much as he’s pushing into you. His right hand is between your legs and he’s playing with your clit. You’ve played with it before, obviously, experimenting with masturbation, but this was something so different. It’s indescribably pleasurable, and you moan again, louder, closing your eyes and gripping the sheets as wave after wave of pleasure pulses through your body. There is a pressure building within you, something you’ve never heard of before.
“I’m close,” Harry tells you, eyes half closed, mouth half open, hips rocking his manhood in and out of your body. Suddenly, you realize what that pressure is. You’re close too. You’re feeling your orgasm build inside.
“Oh, god,” you moan, your breasts bouncing gently as Harry speeds up, really grinding himself against you now. He’s still playing with your clit, and you feel as though you’ve crossed some sort of threshold, some point of no return. You feel him swell inside of you and, with a load moan, he starts to pulse, slamming himself into you. He’s cumming, and with that thought, you throw your head back and whimper as ecstasy explodes between your legs, radiating outward and causing your body to spasm. Muscles flex and tense, and your toes curl, and you open your mouth, gasping for air as your orgasm completely overwhelms you. You ride the waves of pure pleasure until they subside and you relax. Panting, Harry looks at you, one hand still holding your thigh, the other holding his weight now, as he leans over and puts it on the bed. He pulls out of you, a smooth motion, and steps over to his desk. He pulls the condom off and drops it into the trash bin, wiping himself off with a towel that’s draped over his chair. He offers the towel to you, still panting, and you take it. You dry your face and thighs and stomach, slick with sweat, and hand it back to him. He tosses it onto a pile of dirty clothes and drops onto the bed next to you, both of you still naked. You shift and curl into him, knees up, arms around his firm chest. He pulls the coverlet up and turns the lamp off, letting you rest your head on his shoulder.
“Thank you,” you say, quietly.
“You don’t have to thank me. Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?” Harry says.
“I’m sorry I made you wait so long,” you say, insecurity flooding back in.
“Don’t be. I would have waited as long as it took to be with you like this,” he said, stroking your arm absentmindedly. “And it was perfect. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”
You smile a small smile to yourself and feel his breathing even out. Closing your eyes, you snuggle closer and fall asleep to the sound of his beating heart.