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[freedomfireflies]

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[freedomfireflies]

ANSJAS BESTIE YOU MIGHT BE RIGHT!!! Actually, Michael as Jesse might slap 👀

But also I still love Alex Turner 😭

Missing my knockout babes- saw these and it screamed them!!

AKSMAS OH MY GOD THIS IS SO THEM!!! Kind of wanna make it canon that Knockout is in the 90’s or early 2000’s now 😭

This is so cute, I’m obsessed!!!

[freedomfireflies]

Missing my knockout babes- saw these and it screamed them!!

AKSMAS OH MY GOD THIS IS SO THEM!!! Kind of wanna make it canon that Knockout is in the 90’s or early 2000’s now 😭

This is so cute, I’m obsessed!!!

[freedomfireflies]

NEEEEED TO READ THIS!!!! Your aesthetics are always top tier!!! Iconic truly 😭💞💞

"Chapter Two"

Word Count: 5.6k

(Chapter two to “Cherry Bomb” - please make sure to read the TW on the “Cherry Bomb” masterlist before proceeding.)

●・○・●・○・●

Today marks a month since my hometown show, which also means I’ve been back in LA officially for the same amount of time. I hadn’t really been out much since being here considering there was still a lot of rearranging to do with my house. For starters, it took a few weeks to get my home recording studio completely set up the way I needed it. I had also painted a lot of the walls, and worked on getting my patio to look like an oasis. 

My home was finally feeling like just that…home.

It’s been a while since I’ve had that feeling considering I was bouncing from place to place while touring - sleeping each night either in the van as we drove to another location, or a hotel if we had the time.

Having a place to call my own now is so refreshing. It finally feels like I’m settling down somewhere for the first time since I left home to pursue music. I’ve managed to make it completely me, and I’m proud of myself for that.

Another reason why I think I threw myself into renovating my house so much was due to the fact that I had seen Harry again. After five years, I saw someone who I had tried my hardest to forget.

But the sad thing was, it still wasn’t him.

I’ve made peace with the fact that my Harry is truly gone, and to be honest, I think it’s helped me push forward a bit when it comes to that healing. People really are telling the truth when they say sometimes you never properly heal - the pain just dulls. I think that’s how it will always be when it comes to the loss of Harry.

There’s nothing like speaking about someone as if they were dead when they’re still very much alive.

Regardless of me not really taking the time to see how things had changed in LA, I made myself a promise that today I’d be remedying that. I want to try to go and look for a few additional art pieces for both my living room and bathroom, and I also want to see if the old record store I used to shop at was still open.

That record store holds a lot of memories for me, and I hope to see that it’s still the same.

Looking at myself in the full length mirror in my room, I tug on a pair of black flared corduroys - pairing them with my trusty black platform Dr. Martens. I pull on a black tank top and tuck it into the waistband of my trousers before pulling on a black mesh top over that. I give myself a small nod as I fluff up my hair that I had already done, and I give my makeup one more glance as I head out of my bedroom.

With my small black purse over my shoulder, and my keys in my hand, I make my way outside and into my car. I start towards town, and I make the decision to go looking for some vinyls first since that’s what I’m most excited about.

As I drive, I take in the scenery around me, and I can see that there’s obviously been a lot of build up in the area since I was last living here. More apartment buildings, houses and shopping centers. It was the same, but it wasn’t - much like myself now that I’ve returned.

I feel a smile tug onto my lips as I see the sign for the record store, and I can’t help but let out a small laugh when I realize that’s thankfully one of the things that hasn’t changed at all. Pulling into the parking lot, I park and get out while feeling the giddiness in my stomach that at least something has remained the same.

The same old bell chimes as I step in the front door, and I look over to see there’s no one behind the counter currently. I can’t help but stop in my tracks as I look at it - covered with various bands stickers and doodles, it brings me right back to when I would come in here almost every day the summer after highschool.

“There she is!” Harry's voice bellows as I walk into the record store with a bag of Taco Bell in my hand - a drink carrier in the other. “And she brings me food?”

He dramatically looks up at the sky with his hands pressed together as if he were praying. “I don’t know what I did for whoever is up there to give me Marlowe Finch as my best friend, but I could kiss your ass right now for doing so.”

I can’t help but giggle at his words as I shake my head, and I make my way over to the counter. After making sure the bag and drinks are secure on the surface, I also push myself up onto it before dishing out the food.

“I got you the Mexican pizza combo with a Baja Blast,” I tell him as I pull out the box as well as setting his drink down by him. I make sure I also give him the taco that comes with it. “Oh, and I got you chips and cheese!”

I can feel Harry watching my every move as I set our food up for the two of us, and I look over to him once I finish - feeling my cheeks flush a bit. “What?”

Harry shakes his head as his bunny teeth clamp down on his bottom lip. “Nothing, just so lucky to have you - that’s all.”

“And I’m lucky to have you,” I don’t hesitate to say it back as I lift a hand up to fix the backwards hat he currently has on. He was growing his hair out, but was insistent on wearing hats. He looks like a true frat boy, which is a thing I always give him shit over. “Going to a party or something after your shift? You’re a little more dressed up than usual.”

“Yeah, one of the guys who’s in a local band invited me. He comes in here a lot to put up flyers for their gigs, and he said they’re having a pretty big house party,” Harry shrugs as he pulls the wrapper off his taco, slathering it with sauce before taking a massive bite.

I make a face as I watch him eat, and he reaches out to pinch my hip - eliciting a squeal from me.

“You don’t have to eat it like a starved animal, you know? It’s not going anywhere,” I tease with a wink as I bite into a piece of my chicken quesadilla. “But a house party sounds fun. Do you need me to pick you up later once you’re ready to leave it?”

“You know I’m not going to be drinking,” Harry says, pausing to take a sip of his Baja Blast. “I can just call an Uber or I can walk.”

“Harry,” I tilt my head to the side. “You know I don’t mind giving you rides, right? It lets me spend more time with you.”

I notice that Harry pauses on eating for a moment as he looks down at his feet before he speaks. “I don’t know. I just feel like a burden sometimes since I don’t have my own car.”

“Hey,” I place my food to the side for a moment, and I take his food from him to do the same before I place his hands in mine - giving them a squeeze. “You will never be a burden to me. Never. Do you understand?”

Harry purses his lips to the side, and I raise my eyebrows as if to enunciate my statement again. His shoulders deflate before he gives me a soft nod which causes me to smile.

“Good, glad we cleared that up,” I tell him as I start in on my food again. “Are they going to come and pick you up from here?”

He doesn’t answer me right away as he leans against the counter, pondering as he chews the bite he just took from his taco. “Why don’t you just come with me?”

“I don’t know, H,” I squirm slightly at the thought of being around people I’m not familiar. “It’s not like these people even have any idea who I am. They’ll probably think it’s weird if I just turn up with you.”

“Well, if they said something about it, then we’d leave,” Harry’s eyebrows narrow as he holds my eyes. “I wouldn’t want to be around those types of people anyway.”

I glance over at the clock to see he has about two hours left of his shift. “How about I think about it? I’ll just hang out until you’re done - that way I can take you anyway, yeah?”

Harry sends me that boyish grin of his that here recently has sent my heart fluttering, and he reaches over to dip one of his chips into the cheese before he’s extending it out to me. I roll my eyes playfully at him as I lean forward - capturing the chip between my teeth before letting it fall back onto my tongue.

“I think that sounds like a plan,” he tells me.

The sound of someone entering behind me causes me to come back to reality, and I immediately leave the main area of the store to head into one of the side rooms. I wasn’t even sure if the organization in here was the same as it used to be, but I just had to get away from that counter for a moment.

I spent so many days just sitting on top of that while I would watch Harry work, and half the time I’d be helping him get his stuff done so we could get out faster. All we cared about back then was playing music in my garage, so we always tried to get him out of the store as quickly as possible once his shift was through.

As I approach the section of shelves that was strictly for 80’s records, I decide that’s as good of a place to start as any. I begin to flip through the records while nibbling on the inside of my cheek as I do so.

I pull a few out that I know I’d be more than happy to have before continuing my way through the room. My attention gets caught for a moment by a blonde girl exiting out of the employee only room, and I can tell she’s heading back up towards the front while adjusting her clothes.

It’s only a few seconds later that I catch another body exiting the same room, but I keep my back slightly turned to them as I continue to sort through the vinyls.

Just as I’m about to grab a Talking Heads album, my attention is stolen once more by the sound of a high-pitched giggle, followed by a single name.

“Harry!”

I can’t help but flash my eyes over to the counter since I’ve made my way back towards that area, and I see Harry’s body wrapped around the girl I had seen just a few seconds ago.

“Stop it - you’ve already had me away from the customers for the last fifteen minutes,” the girl continues to laugh, acting as if she were trying to push him off of her, but it’s obvious she’s loving the contact from him.

Knowing I need to get out of here, I go to set the records down that I had in my hand, but I’m caught off guard by a gasp, and I can see the girl looking past Harry’s shoulder at me.

“Holy shit!” Harry is quick to look over his shoulder to see what she’s on about, and I watch his expression harden once he sets his sights on me. “You’re Marlowe Finch!”

The girl unravels herself from Harry, and she walks over to me with a large smile. I clear my throat when I realize I’m going to have to interact with her. Clearly she’s a fan, and I don’t want to come across as rude. My issue is with Harry - not her.

“Uh, hi, that’s me,” I nod, forcing a smile of my own.

“I was so bummed that I missed your show a few weeks ago, but this one was sick,” she gestures her thumb over her shoulder to Harry before crossing her arms over her chest. “So I stayed home too so I could be on standby, in case he needed me.”

I soon realize that he obviously lied to this girl about where he was that night considering he was very much at my gig, and not at home sick. He sends me a look, one that I quickly interpret as a warning, but all that does is cause me to get a bit angry.

“Funny seeing you here, Harry,” I say, raising an eyebrow at him. “Do you still work here too?”

The girl looks between the two of us for a moment - confusion etched on her face. “Wait, you guys know each other?”

Harry walks to stand behind the blonde after hearing that question, and I stifle a laugh at the fact that he hasn’t even talked about me once to her.

“Harry and I used to be best friends up until a few years ago.”

“What the hell?” She lifts her hand to hit the back of it lightly against Harry’s chest. “How come you’ve never told me this?”

I can’t lie and say that it doesn’t hurt to know that he really does just forget that I ever existed in his life. I’m actually a bit envious of him at the same time though. I wish I had the capability just to block out years of memories that I no longer wanted.

Harry remains silent, but the girl doesn’t wait for him to respond before she speaks again. “Well, I’m Rylan,” she says, extending her hand to me which I shake. “Are you staying in town for long?”

“Just moved back actually,” I nod. “I plan on being here for some time since I just finished up my tour, and I’m starting to work on my new album.”

“Oh, that’s so exciting! We should totally hang out sometime since you’re going to be sticking around.”

I can see the annoyance written all over Harry’s face as Rylan continues to ramble, and I send him a slight smirk. The one thing he wants to avoid, he simply can’t - all due to the fact his girlfriend is currently making over me.

“Well, if Harry still has my number, it’s the same, so…” I trail off with a shrug, and Rylan claps her hand. 

“I can’t believe I’m going to be hanging out with you. I feel like I'm in a dream right now,” she shakes her head before seeing the records I didn’t get a chance to put down. “If you’re all set, I can ring those up for you.”

“Sure.”

Rylan takes the vinyls from me, and she turns her back towards both Harry and I to walk towards the counter. As I walk past Harry, we allow our eyes to run over each other before I’m looking back ahead to properly check-out. I can still feel his sight on me as I hand my card over to Rylan who’s bagging up my records. She extends the bag to me over the surface - a large smile on her face.

“It was nice to meet you, Marlowe. Hopefully we can all hang out soon. I’m sure you and Harry have a lot to catch up on.”

For some reason, that simple phrase causes a knot to grow in my throat, and I force a smile. “Yeah, I bet. See you around.”

Turning towards the door, I keep my head down as I walk past Harry, and once I’m outside, I let out a breath that I didn’t even know I had been holding in. I quickly get in my car, and I’m thankful that I had parked facing away from the windows of the building as I place my records in the passenger seat. I stare blankly at my steering wheel as I take a minute to gather myself.

This was a mistake. I should’ve never moved back here.

I should’ve just planted roots somewhere else given my parents had moved, but I just felt so drawn to come back here. This was the place that gave me inspiration to start music in the first place, and I figured it would be good to write my first album here. It seems that now I was terribly mistaken. The thought of having to worry about seeing Harry everywhere I go will eventually take its toll on me. All of my years of therapy will be washed down the drain.

After taking a few more moments to collect myself, I start my car, and I head off in the direction of the art gallery I had looked up earlier today to try to get my mind off this whole encounter.

●・○・●・○・●

It had been a few days since running into Harry at the record store, and mentally, I was doing better with it than I thought I was going to. I expected my mind to race once I laid down in bed that night, but that didn’t happen. Thankfully, I distracted myself with hanging up the new art I got while playing a couple new records, and I think that helped get my mind off of it.

Kailey had texted me earlier today and asked if I wanted to go out for a few drinks later, and I agreed. I had seen her a couple times since I got back, mostly because she came over and helped me with a lot of the painting I did in my house, but this was going to be the first time that we were actually going out.

It’s exciting to me, to be honest. Yes, I’ve been traveling and going out here and there for the past few years, but I haven’t really gone out with a friend in so long - not since I left.

I went for a rather simple look tonight - just a pair of ripped black skinny jeans, a cropped white tee and my leather jacket. Of course, my platform boots were on my feet.

Since it was a little up in the air how much we would end up drinking tonight, I decided to order myself an uber, and I made sure I had my cards, keys and phone before heading out the door. I only had to wait a couple minutes for my Uber to arrive, and as I got into the back seat, Kailey sent me a text to tell me she was on the way as well.

I’m hoping that by going out tonight that it gives me a better outlook on deciding to move back to LA. After the encounter with Harry, it did have me questioning everything, even though I didn’t spiral as bad as I thought that I would. I’ve managed to keep up a pretty good relationship with Kailey, despite being gone, so I’m more than hopeful that we’ll fall back into our old ways.

I know that I have my band, and Lys, but it’ll be nice to feel like I have close friends again.

I pull up to the agreed location just a few minutes after getting in the car since it’s not too far from my house, and I step inside. I’m looking around for Kailey, but I don’t see her yet, so I decide to make my way to the bar to go ahead and order a drink. 

As I’m waiting behind a few people, I see the door open again out of the corner of my eye, and I see Kailey.

“Kailey!” I call over to the noise of the music, and I watch her eyes wander around for a moment before they settle on me.

She smiles wide, and waves her hand high in the air before she starts to make her way over to me. Once she reaches me, we wrap our arms around each other in a big hug, and I let out a small sigh at how nice it feels to have contact with someone like this. It wasn’t too common for me these days.

“How are you?” I ask as we move up a bit towards the bar, both of us with our arms now crossed over our chests.

“I’m good, just got off of work, and I came straight here. How about you? Did you finally get everything settled at the house?”

I nod, feeling a sense of pride that I have gotten myself all situated. “I did, actually. I picked up a few more art pieces earlier this week to fill some empty space on the walls that I had, but I think everything is officially in place. You’ll have to come over for dinner and a movie night sometime.”

“Oh, I’d love that!” Kailey exclaims with a toothy grin. “It’ll be just like old times.”

Eventually it’s our turn, and I order myself just a Coors Light to start. Kailey orders herself a beer as well, and then we head towards a high-top table tucked into the corner - having it be a little more secluded in the busy little bar.

“I know you’ve been super busy with the house, but have you had a chance to get out a little bit? There’s a lot that’s the same, but a lot that’s different,” Kailey says as she takes a sip of her drink.

“The day I picked up the art pieces was actually the first day I was able to do that,” I wrap both of my hands around my cool glass - tapping my fingertips against it lightly. “Went to the art gallery, but I went to the old record store before that.”

Kailey pauses her attempt at another sip at my words, and she lowers her glass back down onto the table. “You did, did you?”

“Yeah,” I sigh, shaking my head. “Saw Harry.”

Kailey’s eyes widen at my words. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, and well…that wasn’t the first time I saw him. I forgot to tell you, but I also saw him at my show.”

She stares at me for a moment with a slack jaw before she shakes her head. “Okay, wow,” she clears her throat, actually taking a large sip of her beer afterwards. “And how were both of those run-ins?”

I purse my lips to the side as I try to decide how to answer her. “Pretty unfortunate, to say the least,” I laugh sadly. “He caught me after my gig, and he pretty much just said he wanted to confirm it was me, but that he still wants to act like I don’t exist. The other day when I saw him at the record store, he was all over some girl. Rylan was her name, I think?”

“Yeah, Rylan,” Kailey rolls her eyes. “She’s something.”

“You know her?” I ask, eyebrows narrowing as I take another sip of beer.

“She hangs around with Mikey’s group of friends, and I’ve run into her a couple of times at his parties. Her and Harry have been together for a little bit from what I’ve heard,” she shrugs. “She’s younger though - 22, I think? Fucking loves to party it seems.”

“I thought you hadn’t really seen Harry.”

“Over the past few months he’s been turning up more with her, but before that I only saw him those couple times I told you about. Did he talk to you the other day at the store?”

I shake my head. “Didn’t utter a fucking word. Rylan was fangirling over me, and he just stood there…glaring. I’m sure it had to eat him up that his girlfriend was losing her mind. She wants to hang out with me too.”

Kailey throws her head back with a laugh. “I’m sorry, Marlowe, but oh my god. The poor girl is actually clueless, isn’t she?”

“It seems so. He lied to her about being at my gig. Apparently she wanted to go, and he told her that he was sick, so she stayed home in case he needed her.”

“Wow,” Kailey lifts her glass and extends it towards me. “I think we can cheers to a big ol’ ‘fuck Harry’, am I right?”

I can’t help but chuckle as I lift my glass - clinking it against hers. “You’re right.”

She hums as flails her hand in the air, as if she’s brushing the subject matter of our current conversation away. “But enough about that asshole. How’s the album coming along?”

“To be honest with you? It isn’t,” I run a hand through my hair. “I haven’t really had any inspiration hit me lately, and I know I have a meeting coming up with my label soon. I’m a bit stressed. They’re going to expect an anticipated release date, and I’m not going to be able to give that to them.”

“Well your manager, Lys, right?” I nod as she continues. “I’m sure she’s going to rally for you. She’ll make sure you get all the time you need in order to create what you want, and to put something out that you’re proud of. Don’t let them pressure you into a deadline.”

“Yeah, it’s just…it’s not a good look that this is my first album, and I can’t even get my head on straight to properly get to work on it. I’ve just been so busy with the move, but now that I have my studio set up, I’m hoping it’ll be easier to get some material together.”

“You’ve got this,” Kailey nods. “Your song writing has always been stellar, and you can come up with melodies at the drop of a hat. It’s going to all work out.”

She reaches across the table to wrap her hand around my wrist - giving it a squeeze of reassurance as we share a smile between the two of us.

Our conversation continues on, and eventually we order ourselves another round of beers. At one point, my phone lights up on the table, and I look down to see Harry’s name. My eyebrows narrow, and I swallow harshly as I stare at it. I was in need of a cigarette anyway, so I figure that answering it won’t be too much of an issue.

I can’t tell you why I’ve kept his number saved all these years. It was something I always wanted to bring up in therapy, but I never did. I guess there was a part of me that still wanted to know I could contact him in some way, if I needed to. I had also convinced myself that he probably had a new number, and the contact in my phone was just a placeholder of what used to be.

“I’m going to step out and take this call and have a smoke. I’ll be right back,” I tell Kailey as I stand up, and she gives me a thumbs up while taking a large sip from her glass.

Heading outside, I answer the phone, and I hold it between my ear and my shoulder as I pull a cigarette from my pack - placing it between my lips as I struggle to get my lighter out as well. “Hello?”

I can hear music coming through the speaker, but I don’t hear anyone speaking as I light up my cigarette. Giving it a few minutes, I roll my eyes as I lean against the building, taking a long drag before pulling the stick from my mouth.

“Harry, if you’re talking I can’t hear you.”

It’s silent again for a few seconds, and as I’m going to place my cigarette back between my lips, he speaks. “You just had to come back, didn’t you?”

I pause, the filter almost to my mouth as my face contorts. “What?”

“You heard me, Marlowe,” his words are slurring, and I close my eyes when I realize he’s extremely drunk. “You just had to fucking come back here.”

I’ve never been around Harry drunk, therefore I’ve never known what he could sound like, but right now he sounds even less like my Harry than ever before.

“Well, it is my hometown,” I scoff before taking another drag.

“Did you come back here just to torture me for leaving your stupid little band?”

I blow out smoke towards the sky before I answer him. “It wasn’t just my band, Harry, it was ours. But no, I wanted to spend some time at home. I haven’t really been able to within the past three years.”

“Why?” Harry chuckles darkly into the phone. “You don’t have anyone here anyway. Your parents have moved - no siblings.”

I bite down on my bottom lip as Harry brings up my relationship with my parents. He knows they love me, but he also knows we’re not very close. They’ve been to a few of my shows here and there, and they’ve made it clear they’re proud of me. That’s all I can really ask for.

“Thanks for that,” I try to keep my cool - playing up my sarcasm to cope with his comment. “I had completely forgotten my family dynamic.”

“I’m just saying, there’s not a single person who truly wants you here.”

“That’s funny,” I mumble around the filter of my cigarette. “Because I’m actually out for drinks with Kailey as we speak.”

It’s silent again, but I continue to hear the muffled music in the background, so I know he’s still there.

“Okay, I’m hanging up now, Harry. This call is absolutely pointless.”

“Just one more thing before you go,” Harry’s voice holds a tone that I’ve never heard before.

I wait.

“I left the band because I couldn’t stand being around your stuck up attitude. You’re so fucking full of yourself, Marlowe. So fucking selfish,” he spits, and my lips part at the harsh words he casts my way. “You going solo like you did just proves you were going to use us, and then leave us out to dry once you made it. I couldn’t stand being in the same room with you anymore because of how you were acting - how you’re probably still acting.”

I can’t even find the words to respond to what he’s just said to me. Never in my life has he spoken to me in such a way, or said such hurtful things - things that he has to know aren’t true. As much as I want to prove that to him, I know in the end it’s pointless. 

This Harry doesn’t want explanations or reasoning. This Harry is already set in his ways and his thinking. Arguing with him would be like arguing with a brick wall.

“You’re talking out of your ass right now, and you’re clearly drunk,” I toss my cigarette to the ground, snuffing it out with the toe of my boot. “I’m actually going to hang up now. Don’t call me again. Goodbye, Harry.”

My hands shake as I hang up my phone - slipping it into the back pocket of my jeans. I suck in a deep breath as I drop my head back to rest against the brick behind me. 

As much as that call should upset me even more, I think it’s not because I’ve actually come to the realization now, more than ever, that Harry is not the same person. He will never be again. I’ve already mourned who he used to be. I’ve already worked through that trauma to a point where I feel comfortable dealing with the little bit that still remains.

That man on the phone was not someone who used to be my best friend. He’s a complete stranger.

I let out a deep breath before making my way back into the bar, and Kailey sends me a smile. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, that was Harry.”

“Come again?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it. Can we just get some shots?” I laugh, and she nods as she pushes herself up from the table.

“Oh, I’m about to get you two back to back,” she says, guiding me to sit back down. “I’ll be just a minute.”

My eyes follow Kailey as she pushes through people to make her way back to the bar, and I fiddle with my fingers on top of the surface in front of me. 

I have to come to terms with the fact that I’ll probably be seeing a lot of Harry now, especially if what Kailey said is true about Rylan hanging out with people who Mikey knows. Maybe it’ll end up being a good thing - it’ll be the true closure I need to just lay it all to rest. It was already seeming to be going in that direction anyway.

It’s only a few minutes later that Kailey is back with a small serving tray with two more beers and a total of four shots.

“We’re getting drunk,” she tells me as she sets everything down. “And we’re not going to talk about that dickhead anymore.”

We each grab a shot glass and raise it in the air. “Fuck Harry Styles,” I say, repeating her cheers from earlier, but adding his last name to it - to really feel it.

Kailey smirks as she nods. 

“Fuck Harry Styles.”

●・○・●・○・●

A/N: If you'd like to see what I picture Kailey and Rylan to look like as well, I've included their pictures below! Thank you so much for reading, and I'll see you all very soon for the next one.

Kailey

Rylan

●・○・●・○・●

Taglist: @daydreamingofmatilda @prettygurl-2009 @ghoststyles @lillefroe @gem1712 (if you’d like to be added to my taglist, please send me a DM!)

[freedomfireflies]

Hi hi!! Planning the next part of Infinite You and wondering if we’d rather skip to them getting together or if we want to see them struggle first hehe IM OKAY WITH EITHER!!

I hope you guys are having an amazing week 🥹💞

[freedomfireflies]

This is yet another certified Cupid Slay!! Love this 🥹💞💞

bodyguardrry x stripper!y/n?

pink pony club

in which harry is a bodyguard at the club y/n dances at

word count: 2.8k

content warnings: spicy content, minor violence, a small unwanted touching scene, smut (thigh riding, spitting, dirty talk, breast play, one "sir" mention, minor slapping......I think that's it gkdfjgkjd)

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

Harry doesn’t care much about his job.

He’s not all that interested in working night shifts that start at 8:30 p.m. and don’t end until 4 a.m. He’s not tempted by the constant flow of alcohol, the endless lines of powder that decorate the bartop and booth tables, and the half — and sometimes fully — naked girls that make their money by twirling around oiled up stripper poles and sweet-talking businessmen. 

His job as a bodyguard is simply a means to an end. A paycheck. A way to survive. 

Unless Y/N is working.

The second she started at Pink Pony Club, it felt as if his world brightened up. She emitted an effervescent pink hue everywhere she went, bathing Harry in it with her bright smile and sweet eyes. He’s always kept a special eye on her — while he didn’t care for the logistics of his job, he took the safety of the dancers seriously, and Y/N was no exception. In fact, maybe she was the exception. 

He was the only dancer he watched. She was the only one he spoke to. His pretty, shy, pink girl. 

When she took one-on-one dances in the Red Room, he was the guard she asked to accompany her. He never minded. No, he dropped everything to be there with her, even if it meant standing there stoically, watching as she grinded on the lap of a man that would tip her too little. 

If it were him, he would never take her perfect presence for granted. 

He would sit back and let her take her time. Shower her in every compliment his brain could churn out. He’d comply with the strict no touching rule, but god, if his hands wouldn’t tremble at his sides. He’d have to sit on them to stop himself from doing something stupid.

Sometimes, it’s what he wished those grimy men would do. Like this piece of shit, who’s been shelling out hundred after hundred dollar bills to keep Y/N locked away in the Red Room all night. It’s been hours and the guy can barely keep his head up straight. From Harry’s spot in front of the door, he can tell Y/N’s tired and in need of a break. And when the song comes to a crawling end, he’s ready to step in and tell the guy to get lost, but he’s already digging in his pocket for his wallet. Harry grits his teeth as he watches Y/N’s shoulders fall. 

“Another one,” the idiot mutters, stuffing three hundred dollars in the waistband of her panties. Y/N jerks away from his touch and the man stills, flashing her a confused expression. “What? I’ve paid you your entire yearly salary tonight and I can’t put some fuckin’ money in your panties?”

Harry’s fists ball up at his sides, already taking heavy strides towards them as Y/N’s mumbling out, “you’re not allowed to touch the girls.”

“Oh, give me a fuckin’ break,” he wails, sending a look of disbelief to Harry, as if he should agree with him. “This girl’s a cocktease!”

Harry snorts and Y/N shuffles off the man’s lap. He stands in front of her, creating a physical barrier between the two. 

“You heard her, you’re not allowed to touch any of the girls. Doesn’t matter how much money you’ve paid.” Harry says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you gonna get lost or are we gonna have a problem?”

The guy rolls his eyes. “You’re telling me you’re always here watching over this one and you’ve never once copped a feel? She’s out with her fuckin’ ass and tits out and you—”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish whatever disgusting sentence was coming out of his mouth because Harry’s already pulling him up by the shirt collar. The guy yelps as Harry’s strong grip yanks him off the couch and he scoffs, resisting the urge to spit in his face.

“Disgusting piece of shit.” he mutters, throwing him up against the maroon velvet wall. “You know that? You think you can fucking talk about her like she’s some kind of object?”

“She’s a stripper!” he exclaims, raising his hands up in mock defense. 

“I don’t fucking care,” Harry growls, “She could be an escort for all I care, but you don’t touch anyone without their fucking permission. Especially her. Do you fucking hear me?”

“Yeah, man, whatever! It’s all good, I promise!”

“Oh, it’s all good?” he mocks, keeping him pushed up against the wall with his hand up against his chest. His other arm cocks back and his hand forms a tight fist, his knuckles white as hot adrenaline courses through his veins. He’s ready to beat this guy until he’s unrecognizable — until he hears it. 

A small, quiet whimper of his name. 

Immediately, he turns around. Y/N stands behind him, looking small and helpless with glassy eyes. Again, she repeats his name. “Harry,” she says, shaking her head. “It’s not worth it, I don’t wanna lose my job. Just let him go.”

And just like that, he does.

He lowers his fist, his hand unfurls around the cheap fabric of his button-up, and he’s free to go, scrambling out of the Red Room before Harry has the chance to tell the other bodyguards to escort him out. But he doesn’t care. All he cares about is the teary eyed girl with trembling fingers. 

“Baby,” he breathes, fear surging through his chest as he wraps a tender arm around her waist. He sits onto the crushed velvet bench and pulls her into his lap, keeping a soothing hand placed at the small of her waist. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

She quickly shakes her head, allowing the tears to flow a bit more freely now. “I-I’m okay. Just scary.”

“I know,” he mumbles, biting his lip. “Was it— did I scare you?”

“No, no. I know you were just… trying to protect me.” she says softly, blinking her eyes at him.

“I was, sweetheart. I promise. I would never do anything to hurt or scare you.”

She nods. “I know.”

“How much longer do you have left of your shift? I can take you home. You shouldn’t be working when you’re upset.”

Y/N glances down at the watch around Harry’s wrist, nibbling on her bottom lip as she thinks. It’s already 2, which means the club closes in less than three hours.

“Just another hour. I can make it,” she replies as she straightens her posture in his grasp. “I’m just… I don’t think I’m ready to go back out there yet.”

“That’s fine. We can stay here as long as you’d like.” And he’d certainly knock out anyone who threatened to give her shit for it.

They sit in silence for a bit and Harry keeps a protective arm looped around her waist the entire time, drawing soft circles into her exposed hip. He feels relief at knowing that she doesn’t express discomfort at being in his arms and frankly, if it were up to him, she’d never leave them.

Harry’s torn from his thoughts when she runs her fingers over the expanse of tattoos that cover his arms. Glancing down, he watches as her manicured nails slowly float from the anchor on his wrist all the way up to the ship on his bicep. He swallows, staying impossibly still as she analyzes the ink. Eventually, she lands on the cursive A on his shoulder.

“Girlfriend?” she asks, peering up at him. He shakes his head.

“Mum,” he murmurs, “Do you have any tattoos?”

Y/N nods. “One.”

Harry’s tongue peeks out to moisten his lips as he maintains heavy-lidded eye contact with her. He’s seen nearly every bit of her skin and prickles form in his stomach, thinking about where her hidden tattoo could be. 

“What is it?”

Slowly, she shifts off of his lap to stand in front of him. Using deft fingertips to peel the waistband of her lacey lingerie down, she reveals a simple red rose inked into her skin, just above where her mound begins. Harry swallows harshly at the sight. 

“Do you like it?” 

Harry huffs out a laugh. “Gorgeous.” he mumbles.

“I was thinking about getting another one,” she breathes as she shimmies the fabric just a bit lower. She taps the small patch of skin across from the rose. “An H, maybe.”

“That would be a silly decision, sweetheart,” he says lowly, leaning back against the bench and spreading his legs a little wider. “You don’t want an initial for the guy who beats up idiot losers.”

“I do, though. I love knowing you’re there to protect me.” she replies. Briskly, she climbs back into his lap, this time straddling his waist and placing her knees on either side of him. As if on instinct, he wraps his arms around her to steady her, pressing one palm to the back of her thigh. 

“I’ll always be there to protect you,” he mumbles, chest tightening as she leans closer. Her lips are centimeters away and it makes his breath catch in his throat. His throat bobs as he swallows, angling his head ever so slightly to minimize the small gap between them, and then he whispers: “Stop me if it’s too much.”

“It’s not,” she’s so close to him that her breath ghosts over his plush lips, “Kiss me. Please.”

That’s all he needs to seal their lips, her shaky hands finding purchase at the back of his neck. It feels so special to have her hands on him as their lips meld; slowly at first, and then she’s straightening her back to push her chest forward, desperate to be closer, closer, closer. 

It feels like their only source of oxygen is coming from one another. Harry’s hands grip her ass firmly, squeezing the plump skin in his palms. He’s content with keeping things here at a steady PG-13 level until her wet mouth breaks away for just a moment, only long enough to murmur, “touch me, I need it.”

A groan oscillates from his throat as his hands travel down to her neck, her shoulders, her chest, and then finally her breasts. His hands find the covered peaks of her nipples and she inhales sharply, shuddering beneath his touch. He smirks as he settles on the right side of her chest, using his thumb to gently brush over her nipple. She straightens her spine and leans into the sensation as he slowly rubs it back and forth. 

"Always gonna keep you safe. You know that?” Harry mumbles into her mouth, licking at the seam of her lips. Her eyes squeeze shut and her thighs threaten to close around his wide, spread legs. “Uh-huh,” she nearly whines. He swallows as he watches her, noticing her quick descent into desperation. He gives her nipple a soft squeeze before quickly pausing to unhook her bra and toss it to the floor. He resumes his teasing just a moment later, leaning forward and attaching his lips to the hard bud. A quiet, shaky mewl falls from her swollen lips. He parts with a pop but only to spit messily onto the peak. She gasps when he takes her nipple into his mouth again, hissing as he bites the skin. It’s not hard or long enough to elicit any real pain, just a sweet sizzle in her stomach that makes her tug at the curled ends of his hair. He chuckles softly at her reaction before licking over the bite and tucking the bud back between his lips. Once he’s gotten his fix, he removes his hand from her breast and moves it up to her mouth. "Open." he commands. As if under a spell, her bottom lip drops open and Harry pushes two of his fingers inside, pressing them down against her tongue. "Dirty little mouth, hm?" He murmurs. She nods submissively and he grins, "Suck." She closes her lips, encasing his long fingers in her mouth as she begins to slowly bob up and down, taking them further. His fingertips make contact with her throat, eliciting a short gag as the muscles contract slightly around them. Quickly, he removes them. "Did I hurt you?" She shakes her head and reaches up to wipe away some of the drool that had escaped her mouth. "No. I like it." "Are you lying, baby?" He asks, moving her hair over her shoulder, "This isn't fun for me if you're just doing what you think I want." "I'm not lying, I promise. I like it." Harry's lips curl into a smirk. "Tell me what else you like, then." As she opens her mouth, he shifts his thigh between her legs, the muscles flexing firmly against her core. She gasps, though Harry pretends like he hadn't done anything, instead nodding at her shortly; an encouragement to follow his directions. "I like gagging on your fingers." She whines as he begins to move his thigh back and forth, just slow enough to create some friction between their bodies. "Yeah? What else do you like?" "You," she whimpers, gently rocking her hips against his jean-clad thigh, "When you keep me safe.” "Ah, my pretty baby likes feeling protected?” She nods as she begins to quicken my movements. He stills her hips but before she has a chance to whine about it, he mumbles out a "budge up, baby" so he can slip her panties off her legs. She resists the urge to hiss at the contact, her stomach tightening at the feeling of his thigh muscle against her. For a moment, he inspects the sodden underwear, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You made quite the mess in these, baby. What got you so turned on?” She swallows harshly, her chest shaky. “Y-you. Seeing you threaten that guy for me.” He smirks but decides to leave it at that, feeling the desperate warmth radiating from her core. "Go 'head," he mumbles, leaning back. "Let me see you use me." She feels her hole contract at his words, mentally cringing as he chuckles. He feels how needy she is and he absolutely loves it. Slowly, she starts to grind against his thigh, holding in pathetic whimpers at the solid surface making contact with her clit. Harry tsks when he notices her roll her lips into her mouth. She looks down as he moves his hand towards her lower half, momentarily excited that he’ll pet at her the way she’s craving. The dream is short lived when he parts her pussy lips instead to look at the wet mess between them. "Don't hide your sounds," he scolds, pressing the pad of his fingertip to her clit, rolling it in small circles. "They're too pretty.”

She nods, prepared to continue her movements when she gasps out in surprise. Harry had delivered a swift slap to her clit — not painful enough to ask him to stop, but just enough to deliver a sizzling sensation to her core. "Tell me you'll moan for me." "I will, sir," she whines, rutting helplessly against his hand. He smirks and pinches the skin at her inner thigh before nodding again, a wordless order to continue. Hesitantly, she rocks her hips, building up a slow and intentional pace that hits her clit at the perfect angle. She’s dripping now, embarrassingly so, and making a mess both between their legs and on Harry's, but she’s too turned on to care. There’s something about knowing he’s watching her get off and doing exactly what he asks of her that sends her to another dimension. It’s not long before she feels a familiar tightening in her stomach. They’d built each other up and up and up, teasing one another until they could barely stand it, so she’s not surprised when her muscles started to clench, pathetic gasps falling from her swollen lips. "Is my good girl gonna cum?" Harry teases from beneath her. She nods jerkily, her nails digging into his stomach. "Let me see. Cum all over my leg, baby. Make a mess." Harry's dirty talk is finally what does her in. With a few more rocks of her hips, she’s in heaven, whimpering out calls of his name as she peaks. He holds her hips to keep me on his leg as she bounces helplessly through her orgasm, her eyes slowly blinking open to find a smirk on his face when she finally begins coming down. "You're heaven sent, y'know that?" he mumbles. Y/N laughs breathily as she shakes her head, her blushy gaze falling to his lap. He thumbs at her bottom lip and gently nudges her chin up. “Lemme take you home tonight,” he whispers, cupping her cheek in his palm, “I wanna take care of you.” She nods. “Yeah, okay. You’ll wait for me to finish my shift?” “Of course,” he murmurs as he presses his forehead against hers. “Always.”

[freedomfireflies]

Oh this is……my new maladaptive daydream mhm!!!! This is so……….yes 😩💞

I literally can’t stop thinking about riding Harry first thing in the morning. The sunlight is just barely passing through the window and his arms are wrapped tightly around you.

He’s awake and leaving small kisses all over your neck, one hand splayed across your stomach. It’s when you wake up too that you notice his arousal pressing against your back. Your legs are intertwined and you gently move your foot up and down his leg before you turn around to face him.

Harry’s curls are all over the place, but his gaze seems quite defined. Lust. Desire.

“Good morning, love.” His voice is raspy and still unused from last night’s sleep. Your lips finds his in a sloppy and short kiss. Harry’s hips press against yours, a firm reminder of what’s going through his mind. He always looks so beautiful in the first light of the morning and his bare chest is enticing you once again.

It doesn’t take long for you both to be naked, Harry sitting against the headboard and his cock filling you. Your hands caress his strong chest, fingers moving over the tattoos as you just look at each other for a long moment.

“I love you,” he whispers, hands finding your hips even in the dim light and he’s helping you move up and down on his cock. As always, it feels as if he was made for you, filling you to the brim and giving you the right amount of pleasure. Your legs press close to his hips as you support yourself on his chest, moving up and down with more speed now.

Harry’s head tips back against the headboard, revealing his beautiful neck to you. You’re quick to plant kisses along his jawline, only being interrupted by your own moans as Harry starts thrusting up into you as well. Every thrust brings you a little closer to orgasm, the tension in your abdomen building. His nimble fingers dig into the flesh of your hips and his pink lips part for a low moan as his muscles flex underneath your touch.

“M’close,” he announces briefly before his gaze is searching for yours. He loves to watch you come all over his cock and that’s the sight he wants for when he’s reaching his own high.

Just a few more thrusts and you’re both there, Harry’s head falling back against the headboard with a thump and his name echoing from your lips throughout the bedroom. His arms wrap tightly around you, pulling you flush against his chest before he plants soft kisses against the top of your head.

His cock is still twitching inside you and as you close your eyes against his chest, you let out a long breath.

“Good way to start the morning…” you mumble softly and Harry’s chest rumbles with his laugh.

~~

just a little thought i had in mind 🤭

masterlist

[freedomfireflies]

hellooooo, how are you!!!🥰

-🌸

Hi baby!! I’m so good, how are you?? 💞

[freedomfireflies]

Our Place*

Summary: An extra for 404*

The one where Harry invites you back to his apartment for the first time and it doesn't go as planned.

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, breeding kink, angst (happy ending), use of a safe word

Harry’s apartment is nicer than you expected. 

The furniture is cozy, the décor is unique, and his bedroom is well kept. He even has fresh flowers on his kitchen table. 

It surprised you, even though it shouldn’t. Harry doesn’t seem like a dirty guy, but truthfully, you were still shocked to find he had both sheets on his bed and no clothes on the ground.

You take in the tiny details of his life as he kisses down your neck and slips his fingers into your jeans. He’d wrangled you onto the bed only seconds after you walked through the door. He didn’t want to give you a tour of the whole apartment. Just the bedroom. Which you were more than all right with. 

He’s oddly desperate, given the circumstances. Maybe he always is, but tonight feels different. Tonight feels…hopeful.

“Shit, Tink,” he groans into your ear when he feels how wet you’ve become. “S’this just because you rode my bike?”

You gently swat the back of his head. “Stop it.”

“What?” He noses under your jaw. “Felt you squirming back there, Princess. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how you were trying to get yourself off to the vibrations?”

You wince. You didn’t even realize you’d been doing it. “I was not, I was just…the adrenaline was a lot—”

“Uh-huh.” He laughs and something about it sounds like honey. “S’fine, baby. You know I don’t mind.”

“Well…I wasn’t—”

“Sure. Can I fuck you now?”

You huff. “That’s why I’m here.”

He rips your jeans down your legs, tossing them over his shoulder and somewhere onto the floor. The warm air feels good and it’s then that you realize he’s right. You’re soaked, all the way through your panties.

But instead of taunting you further, he only tugs them aside and pulls his cock out. 

“I think…” he murmurs as he lines himself up, “…it’s high time I got you pregnant.”

Your mouth falls open in a moan as he drops a glob of spit onto your clit and pushes in.  

You’ve noticed that his breeding kink makes an appearance more often than not these days. Which you aren’t exactly complaining about. After all, you have one, too. Mostly thanks to him.

But it surprises you all the same as he starts to work himself in and out of your tight cunt, whispering the filthiest promises. 

“Think I won’t do it, hm? I will. Swell this pretty belly with my cum. S’what it was made for, wasn’t it? To take me. Have my babies. Gonna stretch you so pretty…get your tits leaking. You’ll let me have a taste, won’t you, Princess?”

You try to respond but how can you? You feel as though you’ve been fucked dumb. Unable to hear anything past the pounding of blood in your ears.

His glasses start to slip down his nose. He almost always takes them off—they’re mostly for reading anyway. But you like the look of them. Like how studious it makes him seem...how scandalous.

So, you nudge them back up. Desperate to see him exactly the way he always is.

He smirks. “You all right there, Tink?”

You nod weakly. “Yes…yeah. M’fine.”

“Thinking about what I said?” He kisses down your chest. “Thinking about calling me Daddy for real? Having our babies?"

Our. A word you didn’t think belonged to you. Because Harry doesn’t belong to you. And you don’t belong to him. You’re two separate people. Even when you fuck, he’s in his world and you’re in yours. You weren’t meant to be an “our.”

You chalk this up to a slip of the tongue. Something you say when you're threatening to breed someone. And you choose not to give it any power. Because you know what happens if you do.

The fucking gets harder. Faster. He’s chasing a high. In fact, he's been chasing it since earlier in the bar when he saw you with another man. And you know he’s trying to hold off for you, but he wants to cum. He wants to paint your belly with his seed and fuck it back in. Wants to make good on his word even if he shouldn’t.

Your nails scratch down his back, damp and covered in sweat. But his muscles feel good in your hands and you whimper as you hike a leg over his hip and bury him in your pussy.

In your lust-filled haze, your attention drifts. Head rolling to the side as you focus on the soft grunts in your ear. 

But then, your eyes find something on his dresser.

Your heart stops.

In fact, everything stops. Your breathing, your noises, your gentle rolls to meet his thrusts.

It all stops. And you whisper, “Red.”

He quickly falls still. A rather impressive feat given how anxious he is to find release. From 100 to 0 in only seconds, and you almost feel guilty as you sense him glance at you.

“What’s wrong?” he asks through labored inhales. “What…what happened, what do you want me to do?”

But you don’t look back. You keep your focus on the piece of furniture in the corner of his room and you will yourself not to cry.

Eventually, he looks, too. And when he realizes, the air in the room shifts.

He lets out a soft sigh and drops his hand to your hip. Squeezing it once. “Tink…”

You say nothing. Tears are pooling behind your lashes and your chest feels tight. 

“Tink,” he tries again, firm. His grip tightens on your waist. “Tinkerbell—"

“She’s beautiful,” you breathe. You take in a soft gasp. “Oh, my god, Harry, she’s…she’s so beautiful.”

He’s quiet for only a moment. “Yeah. She was,” he agrees gently.

You can’t take your eyes away from the picture frame. The guilt is so much worse now than it was before. Your heart is in your throat, in your ears, lying on the floor next to your jeans. 

You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be here. In his bed—their bed—fucking the man she died loving. While he promises to get you pregnant and give you his babies.

And how is he so calm? How the fuck is he looking at her picture while still inside of you instead of screaming at you to leave his apartment? How can he be okay with cheating on her with you?

“Princess,” he says again, and grabs onto your jaw to force your focus back to him. “Talk to me, what do you want me to do?”

Your lashes flutter. “What?”

“You said red,” he reminds you. “Which means we stop. But I need to know if you’re in pain or if I can pull out?”

It takes a moment for you to blink the fog from your mind and understand. But when you do, your stomach wrenches. “I…wait, shit, I…I want you to finish, I just…I saw her photo, and—”

“I know,” he interrupts softly. He gives you a gentle smile. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been there. But red means stop. And we’re gonna honor that. No matter why you said it.”

You whimper. “Harry, wait—”

“I’m gonna pull out,” he says, ignoring your plea. “And then we’re gonna talk—”

“Harry…Harry come on, you can’t—”

But he does. Even though he winces as slips himself out, teeth gritting together to keep from coming. 

But once he’s out, he delicately closes your legs, and sits beside you. “Okay,” he begins. He keeps your eyes on him. “What’s going on up there?” 

He nods at your forehead and you want to cry. “Nothing, I just…I…”

“You’ve never seen her before.”

You shake your head. “I don’t think so.”

“And you weren’t expecting to see her now,” he says for you. “Especially when we were fucking.”

You sniffle. “It felt like we were cheating. Like I was helping you hurt her. And then…and then I got worried that maybe you only brought me back here so you could pretend I was her. You know? With all the stuff about…about babies…and us, and…and—”

“Okay, breathe,” he instructs. He cups your cheek and presses his thumb to your trembling lips. “Breathe, Tink. Slow.”

Forced to obey, you suck in shallow gasps for air until your heart rate slows and your head doesn’t feel so dizzy.

Pleased, he says, “I know you’re not her, Tink. I don’t want you to be.”

Your expression softens.

“I brought you here because you’re the only person I want to see in the place she once lived,” he continues. His voice is strong. Steady. Like he’s given this far more thought than you anticipated. “After she died, I left it the same. I didn’t touch anything. Not the furniture she picked out. Not the dumb, cute little bowls she insisted we buy. Not the coffee pot that doesn’t work but she loved because she swore it made her coffee taste better. None of it.”

The tears fall down your cheeks, fast and without mercy. 

“I didn’t invite people over because I wanted to pretend she still lived here,” he tells you. “I wanted it to still be our place. Not just mine. And the thought of bringing someone else back here felt…wrong.”

You grab onto his wrist to keep his hand close and he smiles. 

“And then you,” he murmurs, dipping down to nuzzle his nose against yours. A display of affection you’d never expect from him. “And yeah, you’re annoying, and I hate you. But she would have fucking loved you.”

You nearly sob. 

“I want you here,” he says. “I want to talk about getting you pregnant and having our babies. I want to fuck you on this bed and I want to make you cry for a very different reason.”

You laugh through the tears.

“Look, I don’t believe in guardian angels and an afterlife and all that shit,” he admits. “But sometimes, I swear she sent you to me. And yeah, I probably should have moved the picture first. That was my fault, I haven’t had anyone in here in a while. But…you’re not her, Tink. You’re you. And that’s exactly who I want you to be.”

You can’t stop the next wave of emotion as you sling your arms around his neck and pull him close. He chuckles in your embrace but doesn’t fight you. He holds you, too. For as long as you both need.

“I hate you, too,” you finally whisper.

He smiles.

“Harry?”

“Mm?”

“…can we please finish now?”

He leans back to see you. “Are you sure?”

“Very.” You kiss him. “After all, you promised to get me pregnant. And I can’t leave until you do, Daddy."

The groan against your lips is delicious and devious.

And it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

“As you wish.”

WHY DID THIS MAKE ME WANT TO CRY!!! ALSO HI I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!

Previous Part:

~ The one where Harry gets jealous (again)

~ Full 404 Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin

@justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda

@vamprry @fdl305 @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach

@lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana

@dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley

@myalovesharry @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus @kirstiea05 @lovrave

@nuggetdean @triski73 @finelinesss

[freedomfireflies]

https://www.tumblr.com/freedomfireflies/748475870538252288/girl-i-am-gagging-for-the-next-teach-me-part-that

personally very ok with that, (dare i admit this) i think i might be more of a plot person than a smut person, ack idk i love me some smut but plot is just so good when its good and the teach me plot is SOOOO good

ANSNAS OKAY PERFECT!! Stop this is so cute of you, thank you for reading at ALL??? 😭💞 my heart feels like it could burst!!

Are we also okay with a bit of angst for the teach me babies?? I DONT WANNA STRESS ANYONE OUT!!

[freedomfireflies]

I will constantly take plot over smut. Don’t get me wrong I love smut but the plots are what made me fall in love with your work hun

I will love whatever you do x

Omg stop this is so nice actually 😭💞💞 you’re so sweet, thank you so much for the validation hehe and for reading!! I definitely do enjoy the plot more than the smut most times too!!!

[freedomfireflies]

https://www.tumblr.com/freedomfireflies/748413248002572288/hi-miss-firefly-i-have-a-question-for-you-i

Awwwwwww this is such a cute response🥺🥺

I’m happy that you decided to share you’re writing with us because now we get to read your amazing work and see what an amazing talent you have.

I’m so glad I came across your page aswell, I love everything about it!! Your writings, how you interact with us and your energy and personality. I know I keep on saying this but you have the most kindest soul ever and you are so, so sweet🥺❤️ I get so excited when I see you on my dashboard or when I get a notification that you’ve posted a new fic or when you’ve answered one of my ask. It makes me happy seeing you on my dashboard☺️☺️

And yes I am having a good day thank you, I hope you are too!! How was your day??

Stop YOU’RE SO CUTE!!!! I’m so glad we got to meet through some silly stories heheh 🥹💞

I am!!! About to run some errands! I just got done planning some of my meals for the week with these new cookbooks I got and I’m sooo excited!!

It’s kind of making me want to write a story about a chef Harry HAHAH

How are you???

[freedomfireflies]

https://www.tumblr.com/freedomfireflies/748419448622465024/httpswwwtumblrcomfreedomfireflies74841878438

ok perhaps i give him a bit too much credit SUE ME HE HAS GLASSES AND SO THEREFORE I ADORE HIM

what i can accept is him getting in a motorcycle accident (imagine if i ended the sentence here hehe), her RUSHING into the hospital room, it’s looking pretty serious and she thinks he can’t hear her and she just “OK OK I WASNT LYING WHEN I SAID I LOVE YOU IT WASNT ABOUT YOUR DICK AND IF YOU DIE I SWEAR TO GOD IM GONNA KILL YOU” and then he just

“i love you too”

and he’s FINE. the end ;)

ANSNAS BESTIE SAME!!! THE GLASSES DO ME IN!! I don’t really love AI but making some photos of him in glasses nearly killed me 😭

Also YESSSS this is so them to only admit it when one of them either can’t hear or is in danger AKSK they’re so annoying, it’s awful actually

He would come out of his coma just to laugh at her

[freedomfireflies]

one anon said “Would there be a moment tink burst into tears and says in a small voice she wants him to stop saying he hates her “cmon tink that’s our thing :)” “but i dont want that to be our thing anymore” and omg PLEASE i cant wait for u to write this!!! and for it to be super angsty. i can imagine them sleeping together & he says he hates her after they finish and she cant hold in her tears or smth and has to leave his place after he cant say it back immediately- happy ending though

MISS FIREFLIES I WANT THIS PLEASE BUT WITH happy endinggg!!😔

Like her saying I love u nd H being shocked nd he was struggling to say love u to her nd then she thinking maybe she not the one or it's not right to say but IN THE END H SAYS I LOVE U SILLYY GIRLLL!!!! ( no pressure but I beg u to write this):(

AAAAAA I WILL DEF ADD IT TO THE LIST!!! YOURE SO SWEET ILYSM!! 😭💞💞

[freedomfireflies]

GIRL I AM GAGGING FOR THE NEXT TEACH ME PART. THAT CLIFFHANGER? GIRL U ARE EVILLLLL IN THE BEST WAY POSSIBLE

I love you and am excited to read whatever work you put out :)

OMG OMG THATS RIGHT!!! I feel like the next part would be more about the plot than the smut…..would that be okay?? AKSKAS 😭

I adore you, thank you for reading and sending this heheh

[freedomfireflies]

Forgive me for being slow but with 404, why does Harry hate tink and vice verse (I love u btw)

HAHAH no you’re not slow!! They don’t really hate each other but after Harry’s ex died, Tink just reminded him of her, and made him feel less sad, and he didn’t want to be reminded or feel happy so he kind of lashed out at her and got really snippy and she just got snippy in retaliation!! So they don’t really hate each other!! They just butt heads a lot if that makes sense!!!

ALSO HEHE ILYSM!!!! 😭💞💞

[freedomfireflies]

LOOK AFTER YOU

Prompt: An unwell Harry comes home early from the studio early, and you're there to take care of his needy self (requested by this anon submission. Thank you for the suggestion - I hope you enjoy it!)

Sexual Content: dirty talk & handjob

Word Count: 3.3k

“Baby?”

The sound of your husband’s voice carrying from the front door to where you are in the kitchen makes you stop typing on your laptop, a confused frown on your face as you look at the clock in the right-hand corner for the time. Harry wasn’t due home from the studio for another couple of hours, yet here he is. 

You close the lid and rise to stand from the dining table, walking from it to the open doorway. You poke your head around the frame, finding Harry in the hallway toeing off his trainers with a tissue clutched in hand as he tosses his keys into the console table bowl. 

A smile cracks onto your face at the sight of him, a small laugh following, “Well hello, slacker.”

His head turns and he gives you a smile back, but yours drops, because Harry looks pale and clammy when he left the house this morning tanned and healthy. He’s arrived back sick.

“Oh, my poor lamb.” You coo, feet taking you to where he stands by the front door with a pout, “What happened? You were fine only hours ago?”

A heavy shrug and a heavier sigh as he holds your hips once you’re stopped by his feet, “Dunno. I felt fine then, but now I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. My head’s splitting, my nose is stuffy as hell ‘n I’m absolutely freezing. I think I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying.” You chuckle, forever amused by and ready to diffuse Harry’s dramatic ways whenever he becomes a little bit unwell. Typical man.

Nudging back the peak of his cap, you touch his sweaty forehead with the back of your fingers, finding his temperature a little warmer than it should be. You assess his face, the colour still ghostly and his skin still sheening, while feeling Harry’s eyes do the same all over yours.

“What’s the diagnosis, Doc?”

Another laugh from you at his congested-sounding question, your gaze as teasing as your grin to lighten the mood and make him feel better, “Man flu.”

“Bugger off.” He tuts, frowning cutely at you as he pulls you forward to wrap his arms around the small of your back, “Look after me, please?”

“Was already planning on it.” You hum, reaching up to press a quick kiss to his cheek right over the spot where his sweet dimple is deeply etched before pulling back, “In sickness and in health, remember?”

Linking your fingers with his, you lead Harry from the hallway to the living room. He makes a comment about how, actually, you shouldn't be looking after him as he doesn't want you to get sick, too, but you shut him up with a tut, and that's that. You like to look after him when he's poorly, and you know he loves to be looked after. You potentially becoming unwell too doesn't concern you one bit.

Letting go of one another's hands, Harry sits down on the sofa, his backside meeting the corner of the black leather sectional. He huffs and puffs as he goes, which makes you grin as you pick up his sock-covered feet and lift them onto the couch; the cream cable knit blanket thrown over the back of it something you drape over his lap.

“Did you get much done at the studio today?” You ask as you tuck him in, getting the thick material tight around his legs and torso.

“Mhm. Finished up the edit of Satellite, ‘n managed to lay down vocals for another song before my voice gave out.”

“That’s amazing, honey. Very proud of you.” You coo, taking off his cap to tousle his locks and give his scalp a wee scratch; a happy hum from him following the feeling, “Have you managed to come up with a name for that Jezebel track yet?”

With Harry’s eyes pulled closed from the magic your fingers work in his hair, he shakes his head, “Nope. Any suggestions?”

This isn't the first song of his that he’s asked for your help on. With your relationship beginning not long after his debut album came out, Fine Line has your influence all over it whether it be track titles, or some experiences that you've both been through together.

You're his muse, as he's so sweetly put it many times, and you were credited as such. Being married to him is better than any royalties, though; even if you do financially reap the rewards of his extreme success, too.

“It starts off with Little Freak, you Jezebel, right?” You ask, a nod from him as an answer, “Well, how about Little Freak, then? Either that, or Delicate Point of View. I love that line.”

He opens his eyes, a sparkle still held within his stare even when sick, and gives you a bright smile, “Both good options. I like Little Freak a lot. ‘M gonna call it that.”

His response is quickly followed by a coughing episode into the tissue, his face contorting in pain making you pout. You pull the blankets up higher to warm him up some more.

“Alright, that’s enough work talk for now. I’m gonna go get you some water, painkillers for your headache and heat up some soup if you’re feeling up to eating?”

“Yes, please.” Harry nods, wheezing a little after his spluttering episode, “We got any of that baguette left over?”

“Mhm. I’ll bring you a few slices.” “You’re the best, thank you.” He hums, nestling into the couch cushions a little more.

Ducking down, you press a kiss to the top of his head that makes him dreamily sigh, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

You promptly return carrying all of the things you stipulated you’d bring. The sight of you makes Harry sit up a little straighter and smile, the love he has for you seen so clearly in his stare. It's like you're the only person in the world for him, which he's told you on countless occasions is the case.

“Missed you. Don’t leave me again.”

His nasally, needy words make you laugh as you set onto his lap the plate holding the buttered baguette slices and bowl of tomato soup that billows steam. You take a seat on the wooden coffee table in front of him, setting the glass of water and pill packet down next to you.

“I was gone for five minutes max.”

“Don’t care.” He shrugs with a smirk, picking up a piece of baguette and giving his focus to the soup, “Fuck, this looks so good. I just know it smells it, too, but my nose is so blocked.”

You prop your chin on the heel of your hand, your elbow on your knee, and tenderly smile as you watch him dip, “How about once that’s finished, you take a nice, hot bath? That might help your sinuses and sore head.”

“Okay, but you’re joining me.” 

His demanding tone pulls another laugh from you as you nod, “Alright, Clingy. I’ll join you. Do I have your permission to leave and run the bath?”

“I suppose, but be quick about it.” Harry teases before taking a bite, a mumbled moan following the mouthful. 

You giggle as he chews, his eyes closed and expression one of appreciation for the food, “Taste good?”

“Tastes amazing.” He corrects, giving you his gaze once more as he swallows, “I fucking love soup. I fucking love you.”

“And I love you, too. Eat first. Tablets after.” 

“Yes, ma’am.”

You leave Harry to enjoy his food and get to work on drawing up the bath in your bedroom’s en-suite. All of your best products are put into it, along with a few extras that are meant to help when you feel under the weather. You even light a few candles that are dotted around the room and the corner ledge of the tub, just to add a little extra comfort to the atmosphere.

You head back into the living room once the bubble bath is made up to find Harry tipping the rest of the soup into his mouth straight from the bowl. He pulls it away, eyes meeting yours and a smile stretching his face as he swallows. You smile back, happy to see that the food and blanket have brought a little colour back to his cheeks. 

“Ready?”

Harry wipes a corner of his mouth with his thumb, cleaning the liquid off the pad with his puckered lips before giving you a cheeky look up and down along with a smirk, “Are you still joining me for it?” “Of course.” “Then yes I am.”

You laugh at that, Harry standing tall from the sofa. He throws the blanket back over the sofa, and sets the empty dishes down onto the table. You’ll clean those later, after an argument ensues between you both over who’s doing the washing up, of course. That’s always the case.

He pops a painkiller, taking it with the glass of water that he necks, and then the pair of you saunter into the bathroom hand-in-hand; your free one closing the door behind once you’re in. The only source of light comes from the flickering candles, the blinds drawn blocking out the afternoon sun, with heat coming from those as well as the hot bath. It’s cosy – just how you wanted it to be.

Letting go of Harry’s hand, you face him with a smile and nudge your chin his way, “Alright. Let’s get you undressed, yeah?”

You know that he’s fully capable of taking his own clothes off, but you want to do it. You like coddling him when he’s unwell as much as he likes to be coddled. Harry is always a little needier than normal whenever he’s sick, shown already through his words just before. You know he’s more than happy to be babied a bit.

He smiles and nods, and you get to work. His graphic t-shirt is taken off and thrown to the side before you pull down his striped shorts and briefs together in one go. Harry kicks them away once they’re at his ankles, bending down to remove his socks himself that he tosses to join the rest of his clothes until they’re all piled up in the corner of the room, and he’s left as naked as he was the day he was born.

The sight of goosebumps over his skin and his body tightening and trembling makes you frown, your right hand taking a gentle hold of his, “C’mon. Into the bath you go.”

You help him in, your gaze skimming over his bare back and butt as he goes. You can’t help it. The juxtaposition of muscles and squish are too tempting to not.

Harry sinks into the bubbly water and sighs, the sound harmonising with the sloshing as he brings himself into the middle of the large tub. Usually when you bathe together, he lies against the back of the porcelain and has you between his legs, but where he’s sat himself tells you he wants it the other way around today.

You make quick work of stripping as well, an audience of one as you do. Harry might be poorly, but that won’t stop him from ogling your bare body when given the chance.

Your clothes join his, a wolf-whistle heard from him that makes you flip him off while grinning and blushing. Harry chuckles at that as you throw your hair up into a bun while walking to the bath, his sleepy disposition rejuvenating with every look back and forth between your breasts and core.

Stepping into the hot water with the help of his hand, you’re settling in behind him moments later; your legs either side of his hips and back against the tub as his meets your front. His head rests on your shoulder, your cheek lying on top of his hair, and you smile at the set-up; feeling relaxed already.

Harry takes your palms and lays them flat on his stomach, the contours of his abs both solid and soft, as he runs his up and down your arms. You sigh at the feeling provided, so happy to have your love pressed against you. You know Harry feels the same way, because he’s completely melted in your hold. 

Your index finger mindlessly draws circles against his lower abdomen, your eyes feathered shut. It’s quiet between you both with the exception of Harry’s slightly congested breaths and the water lightly lapping due to you both soothing the other with tender touches. 

But upon a soft whimper from Harry, your eyes shoot open. You feel that his torso has stiffened slightly, but from the sound he just made, you just know that it’s not the only thing that has. It seems your touch was a little too tender, and it's turned him on.

A light laugh slips through your lips that now press into his rogue curls as you pause your fingers’ movements, “Sorry, honey. Didn’t mean to rile you up.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Harry murmurs, head tilting back until he’s staring up at you with hazy eyes and a lazy smile, “Don’t stop, either.”

You giggle again, giving him a teasing glance, “I thought you weren’t feeling well?”

“I’m not, but you have the power to make me feel better. Only if you want to, of course.” He counters cheekily, grinning a mile wide.

“Resorting to emotional manipulation…” You tut, shaking your head next, “That’s terrible of you, Mr Styles.”

“Whatever it takes to get my beautiful wife’s hand wrapped around me.”

Your smile grows as you slowly slide your right palm down his happy trail that leads to a very happy place, “Is that what you want, hm?”

“Please.” He hums, tone no longer cocky and instead more desperate-sounding than ever as he nods and wets his bottom lip, “Need it. Need you.”

A gentle gasp from Harry follows and fans across your skin upon you taking a hold of his fully hard cock by its base, his hands leaving your arms to grip the edge of the tub. You give him a soft squeeze, watching as he already starts to fall apart. His brows lift, eyes wire shut and jaw slackens, and you can’t help but grin harder at the gorgeous sight.

“Eyes on me, H.” You murmur quietly, but the cadence in which you speak is commanding enough that he gives you what you asked for.

Harry has let them flutter open, and you’re shown blown-out pupils that beg for more. More that you very much intend on giving him.

“Keep ‘em open, honey. Want you to see just how much I love to look after you.”

Another small moan slips out from his parted lips, your words something he clearly found pleasure in. You catch on to him gulping hard, his gaze darting between yours in anticipation of what’s to come.

You don’t hesitate to start pleasing him, your hand around his length slowly moving up. You lightly squeeze the tip when you reach it, wrist twisting before gliding back down; Harry’s breath stuck in his throat as he watches you intently. 

But upon slipping your other hand from his stomach to his toned thighs that you pry open a little so you can reach his balls, that breath comes out as a guttural groan. You smirk at the reaction as you palm him in two places, his body back to melting against you having once more become putty to your touch.

“Feeling better yet?” You ask, your tone as teasing as your expression.

Harry collects himself and gives you the same look back, “Getting there.”

You continue to squeeze and stroke him, picking up the pace of the latter a tad. The water splashing around with the heightened speed of your hand harmonises with the pants and whimpers that pour from him so unabashedly and sexily.

You're as turned on by what you hear and see as Harry is with what he feels. Those sweet whines. Curls a little damp from the humidity strewn across his forehead. Cheeks rosy. Irises black. Candy floss-coloured lips glossy and parted. Expression euphoric. Hands white-knuckling the tub, the silver wedding band on his left one that’s a perfect partner to your own glinting under the candle light. Your husband is a dream always, but especially when you’re making his come true.

“How about now?” You question, a challenging bite to your tone.

He tries to speak, but no words come out. You’ve got Harry tongue-tied, your hands on his cock and balls so good that he’s been rendered speechless. All that leaves his mouth are rugged moans, and the sound of them, as well as the sight of him coming undone, sends even more tingles straight to your cunt.

As much as you’d love to be touched there right now, this isn’t about you. You get pleasure giving it to your husband anyway, so you’re more than happy to physically forgo it for his sake. You know he’ll repay the favour anyway. Harry isn’t selfish when it comes to sexual acts, even when he’s sick. 

You can tell that he’s nearing his end from the way his body wriggles ever so slightly, along with how he’s trying to fight his heavying lids. All that does is spur you on, too excited to see what will be a gorgeous reaction when he climaxes. It always is.

“Got my hand fucking your cock so good you can’t even speak.” You murmur, fully aware that a little bit of dirty talk goes a long way with Harry, especially when it’s a little demeaning, “You gonna be a good boy and come for me?”

Harry nods fast, swallowing so hard you know it has to be painful. More groans follow that action, his face flushed and fucked-out.

Upon his thighs now tensing and feet struggling to maintain their footing, you lightly squeeze both his tip and balls in unison; his high hitting him hard. Harry shakes in your hold as he releases, the water you both bathe in graced by his load. You don't care, though, and you know he won't either. Not when almost every part of you has been covered in his come at some point in your relationship, and you can both easily shower together once you’re out of the tub.

A moaned mixture of your name and praise leaves him, the inability to talk no match for how badly Harry had to thank you. His words spoken are as stunning as the vision that you knew he would be, his eyes locked on yours and pure bliss etched onto every beautiful feature he possesses as much as it drips from his grateful tongue.

You slow your strokes to an eventual stop, Harry left mewling for more despite being spent. You slip your hands out from under the water to glide them up and down his jittering stomach, smiling at that and the way he looks so wiped out.

"Feeling healed?"

He croakily chuckles and nods, "Feeling heavenly, actually. Just what the doctor ordered."

"More like the needy patient." You tease, pressing a kiss to his slightly sweaty temple.

"Gimme five minutes for my soul to return to my body 'n you'll regret calling me needy, baby."

You pull back with raised brows and a smirk, finding Harry grinning at you, "Is that so?"

"Mhm. 'M gonna-"

With his face contorting fast and head turning away from you even faster, a loud sneeze cuts off his sexy little threat. You can't help but laugh loudly, earning his frowning attention that's fighting a battle with the smile he so desperately wants to give you.

You let the sound fade out a little, but your amusement doesn't lessen an ounce, "Think we oughta put a pin in those plans of yours, honey. Don't you?"

"I think you're right." Harry huffs, now back to giving you a pout and puppy dog eyes, "'M definitely dying. Hold me close. Never let go. Say something nice at my funeral, please."

You giggle at his dramatics, more than happy to feed into the theatrics a tad, "Anything else?"

Harry puckers his lips now, "Kissy?"

"Kissy." You nod, bringing your grin to meet the one worn by the very clingy, but cute, love of your life.