Hi!! Is there any chance I can request a oneshot with actor y/n x harry, where Harry is y/n's plus one to her new movie premiere which she stars in as a romantic lead with another famous actor but he gets jealous and overprotective as he has to sit there and watch the steamy and sex scenes with his girlfriend and her costar he has a keen dislike for, and has to try not explode watching that, then going to the after party watching the actor trying to flirt and share small touches (holding her waist to walk past etc) then when harry and y/n get back to their hotel room he shows her just how much he wants and loves her, to the point he wants that actor to hear her scream harrys name a few doors down
this is so jahshdkrkbwaksocjwnw
you know my other bae andrew garfield had to make an appearance ;)
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actress!yn
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WORD COUNT: 17.9k words... whoa sorry.
WARNINGS: Uh... SMUT. and yeah smut :)
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You and your boyfriend, Harry, are in your hotel room, changing quickly for the premiere of your new movie, Hot Shot. It's been a long few months filming this, especially because you just finished advertising The Good and Bad Days, which you starred in with your boyfriend.
“Harry, can you zip me up, please?" You ask him as you stand at the wide, full-length mirror. Your body is showered, shaved, and glowing—soon to be sucked into your tight dress. You and your stylist wanted to make a statement with your two outfits; for the premiere and for the afterparty. Hours were spent trying dresses on, gagging at some, staring blankly at some, struggling with some, falling in love with some, debating with some.
But you finally have the two that will make you feel beautiful, sexy, and confident on your day. You're feeling great about tonight.
Harry emerges from the hotel bathroom while clearing his throat, hair finally tamed.
Only twenty minutes ago were you two completely naked and handling some serious sexual tension after seeing each other in your premiere attires. This is the second time you're putting on this dress, thanks to Harry.
"Of course, I can, baby," Harry says, gladly slipping behind you to admire the tan on your back. As Hot Shot was filmed in Florida, you were under the beaming sun for months, and Harry has never been so attracted to a simple tan.
He takes his time leading the zipper up your back. Your eyes shift to his through the mirror, and you both hold a long stare. It's filled with another potential round of tension.
Harry's eyebrow cocks up. Yours does too, in a tease. "One more round?" He speaks suggestively. Your hand reaches back to hit him on the forehead. It's ignored, though, as he continues to stare with hope.
Your boyfriend is a horny, horny man when it comes to you.
"Absolutely not. I can't be late to my own premiere," You scoff at him with an apparent look through the mirror.
"Sure you can," Harry shrugs, finishing the zipper, before wrapping his arms around you from behind. He presses a soft kiss to the crook of your neck. "Taking care of my beautiful girlfriend is worth the tardiness. Make her scream my name and tug on my hair because she just loves when my tongue plays with her pretty, pink clit so good, hmm? When it’s all swollen and sensitive. Spread her legs wide so she's all open for me. Her come sticking to her thighs that I'll lick up. How's that sound?" His mind seems stuck in a daydream as he trails his mouth to your ear. His hot breath shoots instant shivers down your neck.
You bite your lip and let your head fall back onto his shoulder. Your dress is slim, thin, innocent in pink but also seductive and sneaky enough to replicate your character in your film. Harry's hands can't help but wander down your sides and land on your hips. He unexpectedly bumps his thickened pants against your ass with a smirk.
"Trust me, we can be late, baby."
You sigh and slither around in his hold—facing him correctly. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you lean forward to kiss him. He eagerly waits to envelope your lips, holding you tighter at the hip.
"Just think—“ you whisper against his mouth—nude lipstick plumping your lips, "as soon as the afterparty is over, we'll have hours to do whatever we want. You can have me in any way, and I can take you from anywhere, for the rest of the night." If Harry wasn't already throbbing in his tight, dress pants, he is now.
"I can't wait," he responds breathlessly, before putting himself out of his misery and kissing you properly. He holds you loosely as his hands squeeze at every curve pulsing your body shape. He loves everything about you. And you're all his. But not for the whole day.
You pull back from the kiss and smile. "Ready, plus one?" You wink.
He laughs, "This is weird. Now I have to stand aside while you take pictures, huh?" You shrug.
"We’re too sexy-looking for the cameras to handle. It's for their own good," You joke. Harry grins, loving your voice, your humor, your smile. You. And he knows it's gonna be a long premiere with him having to share you with the world.
"Alright, let's go before I throw you on this bed. Again," Harry teases—one last kiss for good luck.
-
"Y/N!"
"Y/N, over here!"
"Y/N, who are you wearing?"
"Y/N, you look amazing, darling. Look here!"
"Y/N, what do you think about—“
Your name is being yelled out in all directions as soon as you step out of your car, finally arriving at the Hot Shot premiere. Your hand hovers over your eyes as you wait for Harry to round his side. He finds his arm around your waist and whispers, "Ready, superstar?"
"More than ever, rockstar," You say back, before letting him and your crew bodyguard you to the carpet. Tabloids have been waiting hours to see what you'll show up in. News channels have been pushing each other around in hopes to be the first to talk to you. Your fans have been nail-biting anxious to see how the premiere will treat you.
Today is going to be interesting, you think to yourself as you squeeze closer to your comfort person, Harry.
Hot Shot is your movie about a trained assassin, your character, who is being hunted down and chased by an ex-police officer, played by your co-star, Andrew Garfield. It involves a lot of action and sex scenes as the two characters have a big love-hate relationship.
This movie is different from what you've done before, and you're proud that it's finally out and people are going to see your hard work. That's what you tell the interviewers that stop you every few heeled steps.
Harry stands with your manager, waiting and watching patiently as you do your thing. A year ago when you two were at the premiere for your movie, The Good and Bad Days, Harry was by your side answering questions with you. But not anymore. As much as Harry loved to shoot the film and have his actor era with you, he missed touring and making music. That's why he's fine watching you instead of joining you.
"And yeah, I was a little nervous during—“
Suddenly, a heap of screams come from the fans at the barricades. You look over your shoulder at Harry, who simply shrugs. His height helps him slightly see over the crowds of people. But then his eyes focus on the man stepping out of his car with that award-winning smile.
Andrew Garfield.
You continue to answer questions, wanting to get all of your interviews out the way. And as everyone is asking the same thing, it's getting a little boring.
Andrew starts walking down the carpet, waving at fans, before quickly splitting away from his crew to take pictures with them. Harry watches from afar, his hands fisting at the one person he knows he’s going to have to deal with all night. Your main co-star.
As the two leads in the film, Harry knew, just like during promo season for The Good and Bad Days, you and Andrew would be together a lot. And you guys were. Three weeks of promo meant three weeks of Harry watching his girlfriend obliviously be flirted with.
You finish another interview, before your manager snatches you away. You thank them tremendously, before searching for your boyfriend. And he's standing patiently off to the side, making sure he's not drawing any attention. As famous as you were, Harry is also a popular face. And he wants to make sure he's not affecting your moment in any way.
"Okay, me and you. Pictures," you say as you approach Harry. He immediately finds his hand around your waist, pulling you into his chest. And you can feel the flashes of cameras on your back.
"Yeah, I'm ready," he nods while fixing your hair that got messed up from the slight pick up of wind.
Your manager stands next to you guys, explaining the next few steps. But it's nothing new to you two.
"So then, after this, Y/N, you'll come back for pictures with Andrew, and then the whole cast, okay?" Your manager says. You nod in understanding, missing the slight pout casting on Harry's face. He ghosts his eyes from you to find Andrew in the same position you were just in; answering questions for different news channels.
But as your back is to everyone and you're solely facing Harry—the only person you want to look at—you don't see how Andrew turns sideways to motion the premiere set as he answers a question. His eyes absentmindedly move to you and Harry, and the warm smile he had on forms into a devilish grin for a split second. He looks directly at Harry, before shifting to the backside of you. And the examination he gives you in your thin dress has Harry sidestepping so only he is in Andrew's line of vision.
"Hey, you okay?" You ask while tapping Harry's chest. Your makeup crew finishes their touch-up your face and disperses, allowing your full attention to be on Harry and his shift of mood. But he simply smiles at you in reassurance.
"Yeah, of course. You're just making it really hard to not get a dent in my pants," he leans forward to whisper in your ear. Harry enjoys the laugh and swat to his shoulder that you give him. And he doesn't miss the glare he gets from Andrew.
Your manager holds onto your arm to get your attention. "Alright, the carpet is ready for you two. Good?" They ask. You puff out a breath and slip your hand into Harry's. He kisses your cheek gently.
"You look gorgeous, baby. I'm kinda upset all these people are going to have pictures of you on their cameras,” Harry makes a joke, simply to see that smile.
Your head tilts back to laugh, stretching the cleavage that tips over the neckline of your dress. When you look back at Harry, he's unabashedly staring at them. You swat him again.
"Pervert," you mutter while he snickers. "Come on, boyfriend. Let's look hot for the cameras, once again." Harry nods, staying right by your side. And the slight shift of Andrew's jaw ticks as he watches, already over doing interviews.
-
You and Harry look amazing—you're a worldwide loved couple. And it shows as he swiftly stands in front of you, blocking the cameras, when you have a slight wardrobe malfunction with your dress.
"Fuck," you panic under your breath. Your hands shake as they tug up the neckline. Harry holds your waist, trapping you between himself and the backsplash.
"I got you, baby. No one can see, you're so small under me," He teases. You look up at him and copy the suggestive smirk on his face. "I love when you're under me."
"I'm sure you do, pervert." He earns a flick to his forehead. The cameras do catch that, and they aww at the intimacy of their favorite celebrity couple.
You two do multiple rounds of pictures—alone and together—taking a few steps to the side to get to your next checkpoint. Harry is holding you by the waist, but you take the attention from him with your gorgeous dress and perfectly posed face. Your eyes are thin and seductive from your eyeliner, but your dress screams sweet and innocent. The cameras can’t get enough of you.
After your fifth round, you two finally make it to the end, but only for Harry. You still have to go back and take pictures with Andrew and the rest of your cast.
"Alright, I'll be around, baby," Harry says as he helps you fix your hair again. You nod and pucker your lips. "Don't mind if I do."
Flash!
"They just love us, huh?" You laugh with your tongue out.
Before Harry can response, your name is being called. You look over your shoulder and there awaits Andrew with a friendly wave. You light up, returning the gesture to the best friend you’ve made over the last few months.
"Okay, bye, baby," You send Harry off without looking back and playfully skipping over to Andrew. He lifts his eyes to Harry and waves. The façade Andrew is holding up in front of you is infuriating Harry, but as you look back to see if he responded to Andrew's gesture, he sighs and sucks it up with a wave back.
Even though there are many, many cast members, people are only interested in you and Andrew. The chemistry between you two is sterotypical and front cover worthy. But you don’t see it as that serious. It just feel as if you're hanging out with your best friend—nothing more than that.
Harry is watching with your manager, and he can't hide the frown on his face. He hates this. He hates jealously.
The way Andrew holds you securely as you both smile at the camera is boiling his insides. The way Andrew leans down to whisper in your ear, and the way the smile that breaks out on your face makes the camera flashes spark quicker is hurting Harry's heart. He wants to be the only one who can make you do that. But he stays calm because every time your eyes find him, the look of pure love you give him is enough to keep him at bay.
Then it's time for the group pictures of the cast, and Harry's shoulders can relax because you and Andrew aren't alone. But you are together. And Andrew makes sure of that. He squeezes his thin body around everyone to find a space next to you. But it looks natural for him to do because you two are the leads in the movie. Of course, you two should stand together.
"This dress looks marvelous on you, Y/N," Andrew compliments you once again as the whole cast stands together for more pictures. You bump hips with him and smile.
"Thanks, but I think you'd look much better in this than me," you joke. Andrew uses that as an excuse to stare longly at your dress—Harry watches annoyedly—before nodding.
"Oh, yeah, for sure, darling." Oh, the accent. You can't help but shyly look away, especially from the pet name.
Your co-star on your other side holds your hand and squeezes it for your attention. You look away from Andrew to focus on them, laughing at an inside joke that the paparazzi zoom in on to take a picture of.
You are the star point of the red carpet.
-
They finally allow you to break off as it’s now time to watch the movie. Andrew continues to hold onto your waist as you both walk side by side to your crew.
"Yeah, took me two hours to get my hair to stay this way," He says.
"Wait, so you didn’t just wake up and your hair simply looked this good? I thought you were Andrew Garfield or something," You tease, reaching up to softly pat his head.
"Ha ha, Y/N," he rolls his eyes. You giggle and shy away from his eye contact by staring straight. But that makes you look at your boyfriend with his hands deep in his dress pants. You could moan from how hot he looks. Especially with that unapproachable expression etched on his face.
You glance up at Andrew and pat his back, where your hand is resting. “You remember Harry, right?" You ask as you approach your melancholy boyfriend. The only reason he perks up is simply because of you being close to him.
Andrew nods with his lips smirking innocently at Harry. His arm stays around you as his other sticks his hand out. "Long time, no see, Harry," he laughs, and so do you.
Harry smiles thinnly and takes Andrew's hand. But his eyes are trained on the arm that’s around your waist. "Yes," he slurs.
"How are you feeling, baby?" You ask, releasing yourself from Andrew to step into Harry’s space. Your hands rub up his arms, before they lay on his chest and rise. You stop when you're caressing his jaw.
Harry basks in the affection, especially because it's in front of Andrew, and all he can do is watch.
"I'm good. Ready to watch the movie," he replies, pushing hair behind your ears. Andrew grows a smile at that.
"Me too. Can't wait for you to see Y/N in it. She did amazing," he revels you.
You roll you eyes and reach to swat Andrew’s chest. Harry tick his jaw in jealously—you usually only do that to him. "He's just talking about himself but doesn't want to admit it," you say to Harry with a laugh. He only does it back because of how beautiful you are. His hands hold your waist loosely.
"No, Harry, you'll see," Andrew pushes again, and solely winks at him.
You scoff and grab Harry's arm before stepping away in search for your manager. "I'll see you in the theater, And and Drew," You wave to depart.
He laughs heartily, much more than you expect. "I'll get us a popcorn to share," he says, which you gasp at.
"A large?"
"Of course," he answers with raised shoulders, as if it's obvious. You mouth a loud cheer. Andrew can't wipe the whipped smile off his face. He sighs softly, finally switching his attention to the grumpy man your holding by his thick arm. "See you later, Harry," he calls out as you drag your boyfriend away. Harry only seesaws his eyes on Andrew, before turning away to let you lead him.
Harry totally forgot that the cast sits together. And of course, you're going to be next to Andrew. Great.
When you find your manager, they break down how the theater part of the premiere is going to work. While you listen, you stand in front of Harry and back yourself into him. He quietly wraps his arms around your front and traces your stomach. Your hands land on his, letting them follow whatever trail he's making.
"I wish we were sitting together," you say with your head facing the side—for Harry to look at.
"I do too, baby," he sighs against your cheek, meaning it more than ever.
"But I do more," you pout, and he laughs, kissing at your jaw. You're hidden in a corner from the red carpet. No one is around but your manager and your crew as they decompress. "I want to talk to you during the film and tell you all the secrets and how I did my stunts and stuff."
"I'll hear about it later, yeah?" He tries to sound cheery, just for your sake, and you nod sadly. Harry’s hands go rogue, traveling to your breasts that are begging to either be pushed in or out of the neckline.
You stay quiet with your lips parted, looking down at your boyfriend's hands. He turns you two around so you're facing a wall—him blocking you from everyone's eyes.
He kisses at your jaw again, sneakily sucking for a quick second before you can react. "You look so fucking beautiful, baby," Harry says, making you blush and mumble a thank you. "Best person dressed today. You stood out so much in those group pictures." His hands softly grope your breasts, and you peep out the quietest moan.
"Yeah?" It sounds like a whimper.
"Mhmm. And I get to call that beautiful woman mine," he smirks against your ear. The dent in his pants has made a return as it pushes into your ass. "Am I wrong, baby?" You quickly shake your head.
"Again," You gasp, before biting your lip. Harry chuckles and squeezes at your breasts while pushing his hips into you. He traces a finger at the spot where he guesses your nipple is. And he isn't wrong. Your back arches off of him, making it a little obvious that something is going on in this corner.
So, Harry lets go and turns you around. "Soon, my perfect girl," He promises against your lips before capturing them in a passionate kiss. You are breathless when he pulls away and smirks down at you. He finds your throat to hold and quickly squeeze the sides of before dropping his hand just as fast.
He's trying to rile you up.
"Is this punishment for not being seated with you?" You ask in a giggle. Harry shrugs and holds you right beside your breasts. His nails scratch at your shoulder blades.
"If I'm going to have to suffer, so will you," His tone is evident. You pucker out your bottom lip in a pout, and Harry easily kisses it. "Have fun, my love.” With a solid wink, he steps back and turns away. He follows one of your crew members, who leads him inside the building.
You stand there and watch him, breathless and unsatisfied. And as if he knows, Harry looks over at you and grins, before he disappears.
"Ready, Y/N?" Your manager gets your attention. You adjust your dress and nod. "Good, let's go inside and find your seat."
-
You immediately earn loud applaud as you enter the theater. The room is pointing their attention to you as you wave, walking up the aisle to your seat. While doing so, you search for your boyfriend. One, to scowl at him, and two, because you want to be able to watch his reactions during certain scenes.
As you're trying to discreetly find him because everyone is still staring, Andrew waves at you. You give up looking for Harry, for now, and sit down by your friend.
His smile is wide as he motions to your seat. "For you, m'lady," he bows slightly.
"Thank you, Andrew," You laugh and fix your dress as you sit. "Excited?" You ask, before your teeth sink into your lip. Andrew watches while nodding.
"Very. My friends are here," he says, pointing up higher in the theater. A group of people notice you two staring and wave.
"Hi," You mouth.
"Where's Harry?" Andrew asks. You frown with a shrug.
"I have no idea. But I want to find him before the lights dim," You speak more to yourself.
Andrew nods in agreement. "Well, I made sure to get us that popcorn," He averts your attention, leaning down to grab something between his legs. It's a big bowl of popcorn. "Extra butter," he winks.
"You know me so well," You sarcastically sigh, resting your head on his shoulder—pretending to be swooned.
"I'll be honest, I was already going to get extra butter. I just wanted to see how you'd react. That solely was going to make or break our friendship." Your head throws back to laugh as you swat at his chest.
And Harry sees it all as he sits higher than you and on the other side of the theater. He has a perfect view of you and Andrew, especially when you guys lean over to talk.
This is going to be a long movie.
-
When you told Harry about the dynamic between your character and Andrew's, he was fine with it, at first. You're an actress—you act out mature scenes all the time. But as he sits and watches you ride Andrew's lap, your moans taking over the room, Harry can't help but feel a level of rage over everyone watching this.
"I hate you so much," Your character, Anna, growls but it comes out as a moan. She holds Andrew's character, Maddy—yes his name is Maddy—by his shoulder. The frame shows your collarbones and up, sometimes wandering lower where your breasts, that Harry groped earlier, show.
"It's mutual," Maddy snaps back, before his jaw drops agape. Anna starts to jump, her head facing up to display the thin layer of sweat on her neck. Harry runs his tongue along his teeth. "You've made my life hell,” Maddy mutters with his lips against her chin. Anna suddenly smirks, and the camera angle changes, showing a front shot of her face looking down at Maddy. She looks sexy and dominant. Harry has to shift in his chair as he stares mesmerized by you.
Anna leans down so she almost kisses Maddy. "If you don't make me come in the next minute, you'll be wishing you were in hell than the place I'll send you." Her voice is raspy and it's demanding. Harry's favorite side of you. The camera shows Maddy, and the emotions masking his face as he takes in her words.
Harry uses that second to dart his eyes to you and Andrew. He's leant over his chair to whisper to you. He points to the screen and whatever he says makes you nod. What are you guys taking about? What happened when you guys were filming this scene?
When Harry turns back to the movie, Maddy smirks widely and flips them to missionary, lifting Anna's legs to lean against his chest. "You know what? I need to fuck this absolutely irritating attitude out of you. That's the issue." Then it shows Anna on her back—you looking so fucking sexy to Harry—as she pops an eyebrow up.
"You can try, officer."
Harry has to cast his eyes down to ignore the jealousy of someone else taking you like that—even though it obviously didn't actually happen. But he listens to your voice as you bobble out stuttered moans. He possessively wants to imagine that your sounds are only for him.
When the scene is finished and Harry can look up, he glances at you and Andrew. But he almost flinches in his seat when he sees Andrew already looking back at him. He smiles softly, motioning his head to the screen. Harry fists his hand, planting them on his thigh. This fucking guy.
Andrew gives Harry only a second more of his attention, before turning away. He holds out the bowl for you, which you gladly steal some popcorn from. You're fixated on the scene, not even knowing about the exchange. Or that your boyfriend is literally fuming in his seat.
-
So, the movie had multiple sex scenes. Ha, who knew?
Harry pouts and sighs and groans and adjusts and looks away and peeks an eye and curses and shifts and bites his lip and groans again. He does a lot while stuck in his seat, watching you and Andrew, and your characters on screen, from afar.
The movie finally ends with Anna smirking smugly at Maddy with a knife in her hand. She twirls it recklessly as she hums. The audience watches, waiting to see what her next move is. But Anna simply mouths symbolic words to Maddy before there is a loud sound of sliced skin. The audience gasps in unison as the screen goes black for a while before turning back on for credits.
The room erupts into cheers, most of them pointed at you and Andrew, while the lights flick back on. Andrew smiles over at you and pulls you in for a side hug.
"Congrats on an excellent movie, Miss L/N," Andrew jokes under his breath.
"And same to you, Mr. Garfield," You nod. "Maybe one day we'll see each other again for another movie."
"Oh, you're not getting rid of me. You're my bestie now." You bellow out a laugh, but quickly cover it when you realize how loud that was. Andrew leans down in his seat to laugh like you guys just got caught talking in class.
You stand up from your seat and look around for Harry. This time, he makes sure to get your eyes on him. He waves coolly but enough to catch your stare. And his heart jumps when a big grin breaks out on your face.
You mouth, "What did you think?" The only opinion that matters in this room to you. Harry nods and blinks ten fingers before doing it again to show ten out of ten.
You do a little dance in your spot, making him laugh. He casts his eyes to Andrew, who's solely watching you and your dancing. He says something to you that makes you stop and roll your eyes.
Harry is quick to join the line of people exiting the theater. He finds your manager and stands with them, knowing you'll eventually be here after getting the praise you deserve for the movie.
Despite hating your co-star, Harry loved the movie and everyone in it. You did amazing. But Harry already expected that. You did your own stunts and executed them flawlessly. He can't wait to show how proud he is of you.
And how predatory he is. He already knows exactly what's going to happen when he gets you back in your hotel room.
You're slow to leave the theater because of the people stopping you every two seconds. They aren't even waiting until you're out the theater. You have a whole afterparty to mingle and get praised, but people want to do it now.
But thanks to Andrew and his charisma, he helps maneuver you away from the crowds politely and to your crew.
"Thanks, Andrew," You say, turning to hug him because you know this is where you part. "You're a great movie partner. Especially with sharing popcorn."
Andrew snorts against your neck. "Thanks, Y/N. It was an honor." He pulls back, his height showing off as he stands straight. "See you at the afterparty?"
You nod and shimmy a little. "You know it!" He smiles as you turn and saunter off.
Harry watches, leaning his shoulder against the wall as you approach your crew. You first hug your manager and accept their praise and kisses.
"That movie was amazing. You were amazing," they say as you both pull away. Your smile is shy and thankful, still not comfortable with compliments. "Think you still got something in you to survive the afterparty?" Their eyebrows raise.
You giggle and nod. "Definitely. I need something to drink."
"Alright, honey. I'll see you then, okay?" You nod and thank them.
Your manager steps away, allowing Harry to have you all to himself. Your eyes meet his, and your teeth sink into your lip as you contemplate leaping into his arms. He chuckles softly as you take wide steps to close your distance.
"Hi, baby," He says as you wrap your arms around his neck and instantly engulf him in a hard kiss. Harry sighs within it—all the tension that was building inside of him whisking away.
You speak against his lips. "I didn't see you during the movie. I'm sorry.” Harry puckers so he slightly kisses you.
"I was kinda far so it's alright. But I saw you," He answers, grabbing at you everywhere to make up for the time you were out of reach and in Andrew's. Speaking of him, as you have your back to the commotion of people, only Harry can see Andrew in the crowd. He talks to who he assumes is his manager, but his gaze is pointed to you and Harry. Well, specifically you. But his eyes do glance at Harry when he realizes he's staring back.
"Damn, that's no fair. I wanted to see you squirm at that scene," you giggle, tugging on Harry's neck to keep him close as he tries to look somewhere else.
After not seeing Harry throughout the movie and watching those scenes without him, you are needy. And horny. You press your front against Harry's, searching for the dent that still hasn't been taken care of.
Harry knows what his girlfriend is doing and lifts an eyebrow at you—no type of interest in Andrew anymore. Only in the woman who's looking up at him with the same seductive eyes as her character.
"Well, I can assure you, I was definitely squirming. The poor lady beside me was going to get an eyeful if she looked down at my lap," Harry says, swiftly swatting at your backside, close to your ass.
Your smile widens. "Really? You liked it?"
"Of course, I did, baby. I loved it."
You sigh in his arms and Harry frowns in confusion. "I wasn't sure if you were going to enjoy it because of Andrew, you know?" Your voice is soft. Harry takes a few steps back, leading you guys into the shadows.
"I mean, no boyfriend wants to see another man have his girlfriend like that, but it's the world of acting," Harry shrugs. "And I wasn't focused on him, I was completely transfixed by you." He watches your eyes grow with a slight shimmer.
"Okay, good," you sigh in relief, before hiding yourself in his neck as you hug him. "I love you."
"And I love you, beautiful," Harry replies, eyes on the crowd in front of him. No one is paying attention to the couple as they are all trying to find their ride home. Andrew even gave up when he saw how focused you were on Harry. He knew he wasn't going to get your attention at all. He'd just have to wait until the afterparty—patience.
Harry leans down to stuff his nose into your soft skin, sprits with honey and vanilla perfume. "Ready to head back to the hotel?" You nod, slowly pulling away. You look over your shoulder at the crowd. Harry finds your hand to hold and lifts it to his lips. "Good, come on."
-
In the car, Harry can't help but smirk at your neediness. It's his favorite thing about you. Your lips continue to grab his every few seconds, intoxicated by his taste. And the sound he makes when you try to pull away for a breath. His big hands are groping every spot they land on, and as the partition is up, you don't mind letting out your soft whines.
When you two arrive at your hotel, Harry helps you to the entrance as numerous flashes of cameras attack you. He tells you to cover your eyes while you fist his dress shirt. Now that the sky is dark, the flashes are more prominent, and they sting. You'll never be used to this.
You two make it inside, and the loud calls of your name ringing in your ears die down. "Are you okay, baby?" Harry asks you while walking to the elevator. His arms swarm your body, even though you're safe in the building. Your head continues to hide in his chest, now enjoying his warmth. "No one is around. It's just us."
"The best news I could ever hear," you smile sincerely, looking up at him. Harry chuckles and swiftly captures your lips to kiss.
"Me too, beautiful."
The ride is quiet to your floor. Harry moves you to stand in front of him as he leans against the elevator wall. His arms are around you, luxuriating the last moments of you in this thin dress. He finds your ear to whisper in.
"Are you gonna let me have you before the afterparty?" He asks, holding your jaw and turning it so you're looking at him from the side.
Your nude lips plump, before your teeth sink into them. Harry is quick to yank them out. And he watches as it jiggles.
"We won't be going to the afterparty if I do," You laugh.
"I promise you that we will," Harry says. "Just wanna love on my baby first."
You sigh and shake your head. "I don't trust myself. But we have all night afterwards." Harry tries to fight your decision, squeezing at your body and trailing his hot breath along your face. Of course, you're dripping wet in your panties and want nothing more than to take this man any way he wants, but you have to make an appearance at the afterparty.
Harry is pouting while you two walk to your hotel room. You continuously poke at his indented dimple and swing your joined hands with the other. "I can't believe people finally saw the movie. Do you think they liked it?" You ask, hoping to distract your boyfriend.
He nods sternly. "Of course, they did. It was really good, Y/N. I promise," He tells you. "And I'm not just saying that because I'm your boyfriend."
You smile shyly. "Okay, good," You speak softly. Harry chuckles, pinching your chin, before unlocking your room door. The cool breeze invites you in, and that alone makes you want to end the night early. "Unzip me?" Harry chuckles at your eagerness. He unzips your dress, watching the tension leave your body as you're not trapped in that tight material anymore.
"Better?" He asks, before kissing your shoulder blade. You nod lazily with a moan from your skin getting the circulation it needs.
Harry watches you brush pass him and fall back onto the bed. Your breasts finally spill out the top of your dress, but you don't care at this point. Your arms stretch over your head as you moan out a yawn.
"How much time we do have?" Harry asks, approaching you at the bed. He stands at the end, where your knees hang off. He leans down to grab the hem of your long dress and begin to roll it up.
"I don't know. I think the party starts right away, so, soon?" You respond, sitting on your elbows to watch him. The room is quiet while Harry bunches your dress up your legs. He gets it pass your knees so you can finally spread them, giving him space to stand between them. His eyes admire your perfect body, before they stare at the straps on your shoulders. You notice and slide them off—slowly to come off suggestive. A smirk curls on both of your lips.
"You sure we don't have time?" Harry utters.
You shake your head, now a shit-eating grin on your face. "Nope." Harry sighs and continues to push your dress up. He gets it over your stomach, and the sight makes him lean down to press a wet kiss there.
"Are we one hundred percent sure, baby?" Harry drops his voice while your dress is over your breasts that perfectly spill on your chest. "Just five minutes?"
"No," You laugh, pushing at Harry's head when he aims for your puckered nipple. "We'll never leave."
Harry groans dramatically. "Fine," He huffs, finally getting your dress off of you. He stands up straight, looking down at his favorite, naked sight. Your eyes are warm as they stare up at him.
The way your boyfriend has made you feel over the past year has grown your confidence. You aren't embarrassed or quick to cover yourself anymore when his eyes are on you. Now, you feel sexy as his gaze darkens, and you can only imagine the things going on in his head.
Harry sucks in a sharp breath, taking a step back. You sit up on the bed. "I'm gonna head downstairs to wait for you," he says in a clipped tone, trying to avoid his lingering stare on your body.
"Why?" You whine, standing up. Harry puffs out a sigh—his eyes wandering on the ethereal sight he gets to call his.
He holds your sides and squeezes. "Because I will do very bad fucking things to you, baby, if I stay any longer," He answers, seriously. His hips snap forward for you to feel the pain in his pants. You gasp, before laughing. "For your own safety, I'm gonna go. Just meet me downstairs when you're changed, okay?"
You playfully pout, doeing your eyes. Harry leans forward to nibble on your lip. The sound that comes out of your mouth forces him to step back and clear his throat. Especially because you're still naked and probably wet in your panties.
"Yeah, I definitely need to leave." You giggle. "This gentleman boyfriend thing I got going on is not gonna last long."
"Okay, I'm sorry. I'm done messing with you," you say, swiftly kissing him. "I'll be down soon. I'm just gonna change into my afterparty dress. My makeup is fine, right?"
Harry nods. "Perfect. You're perfect."
You shyly swat at his chest and turn away. Your hair doesn't hide the light shining down your back and ass as you swing your hips while walking away to the other room, where your new dress hangs.
Harry sighs and quickly steps out the hotel room. When he's on the other side, he presses his forehead against the door and groans. "Fuck, Y/N," he chuckles while shaking his head.
"What? You got kicked out?"
Harry jumps, thinking he was alone. His head whips in the direction of the voice, and his expression immediately drops when he realizes who it is.
Andrew fucking Garfield.
"Of course, you're on our floor," Harry scoffs under his breath.
"Yeah, next door actually," He shrugs. Andrew stands tall and smug with his hands hidden in his pants pocket. He stalks over, looking Harry up and down.
"And I'm meeting Y/N downstairs," Harry answers Andrew's earlier question, walking away to the elevator. Andrew takes wide strides to catch up to him. Both men are long and leggy, but Harry still beats him in height. It does make him feel better. Especially because you've made it known a lot that you love height on a man.
"How is Y/N? Is she tired after the premiere?" Andrew asks while Harry clicks the button for the elevator.
"A little, but she's set on going to this afterparty," Harry entertains the man, trying not to get agitated with him around. The last thing Harry wants is for you to think something is wrong with him. You'll easily find out just from one look. You know your boyfriend like the back of your hand.
"Oh, good. I can't wait to see her outfit," Andrew speaks his thoughts out loud. Harry grimaces, and luckily the elevator arrives to save him from responding how he really wants to.
The men step inside the elevator, and Andrew clicks for the lobby, before leaning against the opposite wall as Harry.
"She looked incredible today. Don't you agree?" Andrew asks the obvious, cocking his head to the side.
Harry nods, "Incredible isn't enough. Don't think there's a word to describe how amazing she looked." Andrew pauses, staring at Harry. He notices that Andrews gone quiet. "What?"
He shakes his head. "No. It's just... I agree."
Harry and Andrew are quiet for the rest of the ride down. Harry is very thankful for that. The less he has to speak to Andrew, the fucking better.
When the elevator dings, announcing that they've made it to the lobby, Andrew suddenly turns to Harry.
Harry's eyebrow cocks up as he stares back.
"Hope you don't mind if I steal your girlfriend for a while tonight." Before Harry can speak, Andrew is gone, taking a fast but smooth pace out the hotel. Harry growls, shifting his jaw annoyedly.
Yeah fucking right.
-
You arrive in the lobby, searching for Harry. You don't notice how his eyes immediately find you and widen at your dress. It's so... short. But you still look beautiful, and Harry knows eyes are going to be on you, all fucking night.
"Baby," Harry calls out for you while standing up. As you have the worst awareness, Harry has to wave as well because you still couldn't spot him.
But when you do, a wide smile spreads on your lips as you quicken your heeled steps to him. Harry chuckles as you fall into his chest, swiftly kissing his neck.
"How do I look?" You ask, spinning in his arms—his hands gripping at your body like he's in pain.
"My honest answer would give me a reserved spot in hell, so my respectful answer is gorgeous," Harry states, kissing your forehead. You laugh loudly, brushing your nose against his jaw. "Are you ready?"
"Mhmm," you nod, before sighing. "Let me just enjoy this, real quick. I have a feeling people are going to be stealing me away from you tonight." Harry's eye twitches from you using that specific word—the same as Andrew.
Harry holds you closer. "No one can take you away from me," He whispers. You nod in agreement.
"And vice versa," You look up at him. "If I catch one woman speaking to you, I'll be kicking ass at my own afterparty." Harry laughs, your words music to his ears. Another thing he enjoys the most about you is your jealously. It makes his feel tame.
"Come on, baby," He says, finding your waist to hold as he leads you out the hotel.
-
The afterparty is dark and beaming shades of red to replicate the aesthetic of yours and Andrew's character dynamic. You continue to gasp the further you and Harry walk in.
"This looks incredible," You exclaim, tugging on Harry's arm. The sound of mingling is loud, so you lean in for Harry's ear. "Doesn't it look incredible in here, baby?" Harry turns his head to you and nods.
"It does. You like it?" Your answer is formed through a kiss, before you continue to look around. Harry leads you two to the bar, ready to start your rounds of drinks to warm you up. As the left side of your waist is showing, Harry finds his hand resting there. One, to touch your cool, smooth skin. Two, to cover it.
He loves how you look and wants the world to see it too, but he can't help his predatory senses trying to cover you up. He's already having to deal with your legs being on display for everyone to gawk at. They're long and beaming against the neon lights before they meet your tight stilettos.
You walk shyly, already feeling eyes on you. Harry finds your ear. "This is going to be a long night for me. I hope you know that." Your nerves disappear as you focus on your boyfriend—his objective.
"Yeah?" You giggle. You two finally reach the bar and snag a seat. Harry decides to stand behind you, holding your waist loosely and resting his chin on your shoulder.
"You love to tease me, huh, baby?" He smiles against your ear. You shrink in your spot, smiling like a school-girl. The pet names get the best of you. Harry squeezes your thigh, before moving to stand beside you. "What do you want to drink? Champagne?"
You nod, leaning your elbow on the counter with your head facing Harry. Your eyes are too transfixed on how fucking handsome he is that you don't feel another presence on the other side of you until he speaks.
"Hey, favorite co-star." You almost jump from how close the voice is. Both yours and Harry's head turn to look over at Andrew.
You sit up straight and gasp. "Hey, you made it!" Your arms open for him to step into. Harry immediately places his hand on the small of your back, slowly crawling to stretch around you.
"You made it too," Andrew laughs. He glances at Harry with a short, challenging glare. "Hey, Harry." But doesn't give him the time to respond because he's focused back on you.
Harry rolls his eyes, now distracted by the bartender as he asks for drinks. You promptly turn to Harry, swiftly kissing his cheek, as he places your orders. "That's it?" He asks you. A nod is your response.
Andrew leans against the counter to speak to the bartender afterward. "I'll get what they're having too." You smirk at Andrew, getting two different reactions from both men.
"Oh, so you’re copying my drink order again. That didn't end after filming, huh?" You tease. Andrew shrugs, turning his body to face you but keeps his elbow on the counter. Harry wants to pull you into him as your body language shows interest in Andrew.
"Yeah, I still can never decide on a drink. It's just easier to copy you. We basically have the same taste," He says with an innocent smile but Harry sees right through it.
He clears his throat loudly, but when he realizes you didn't hear him, he then gently kisses your shoulder. You glance back at him, lifting an eyebrow. "What happened, baby?" You ask, reaching a hand back to search for him. He easily takes yours and intertwines your fingers with his.
"So, Harry, did you enjoy the movie?" Andrew asks Harry before he can get a word out to you. Your eyes light up at the question, and so does Harry's heart. The look you stare at him with makes his rival with Andrew a little more meaningless. He'll never get the eyes you give him.
"I did," Harry nods, tickling your chin. "You both did great." You smile widely, and Harry consumes the gesture inside him. It gives him instant butterflies—your smile.
"Thank you, H," Andrew interrupts your small, intimate moment. "Hey, no hard feelings about, you know, those scenes, right?” His smirk is knowing. You gasp at Andrew and swat at his chest—a little more force than usual. But he doesn’t mind. "Hey, what did I do?" He teases, shriveling his nose.
Harry's jaw ticks again. "Oh my god, Andrew. Shut up," You laugh. One of your arms are naked as the other is long sleeved from the design of your dress. The nude arm is on Andrew's side as you reach up to wrap it loosely around his shoulder. He hums as he gets to feel your lukewarm skin on his neck. "You're the worst. You know that?" You joke, locking your arm tightly.
"I'm your favorite co-star. Don't lie to the people," He replies, motioning to Harry. He enjoys every tick and growl and huff he receives from him.
You remove yourself from Andrew—too soon for his liking—and scoff. "That's a lie," You say, trying to avoid a smile. But Andrew gasps and squeezes at your arm.
"Leading me on, huh?"
You roll your eyes, before smiling at Harry. "He's a handful," You pretend to whisper but Andrew obviously hears it. Harry entertains your joke with a nod while you find your arms slithering around his neck. Your fingers play with his hair and tug on it to test him.
Harry grins, at both your PDA and Andrew awkwardly watching the exchange. Harry adores that you will love on him anywhere, anytime, no matter what.
"Here's your drinks," The bartender returns with three glasses of champagne. Harry starts to grab both of yours, but Andrew moves quicker and takes yours.
"Here, darling," He blurts while holding the drink out for you. Harry grumbles under his breath, fisting one of his hands. You stare at the drink before lifting an eyebrow at Andrew. That was weird. "What?" Andrew shrinks at your offended stare.
You let one arm fall from Harry to take the drink. "Thanks," you slowly speak. Your attention is back on Harry as he grabs his own. "Cheers?" His smile returns when your face approaches his to make this moment about solely the two of you.
"To you, baby," He says, intimately. Your blush is saved from being seen because of the shaded lights in the room. But Harry knows you too well. His thumb picks at your bottom lip. "No need to get all shy on me."
You push his hand away from your face. "I'm not shy," You scoff.
Momentarily forgetting Andrew is there, you jump when you feel him against your side. He has his drink lifted, waiting to clink with yours.
"Cheers to you, Y/N," He says.
You smile nicely and raise your drink. "Cheers to us," You correct him. Andrew chuckles and tips the rim of his glass with yours before downing the sparkling liquid. You swiftly turn back to your boyfriend and repeat the gesture. Harry's heart throbs for you at the simple move.
"Cheers," You whisper and sip at your drink. Andrew finds his hands on your shoulders to squeeze.
"I can't believe we did it. Today was amazing," He beams as you spin in your seat. Harry continues to jealousy drink with his elbow on the counter to clearly watch your exchange.
You nod in agreement. "I've been waiting for this day since we finished filming. Can't believe it happened." Andrew raises his eyebrows.
"I wonder what everyone thought."
"I don't," You laugh. "I rather not know." Harry takes that as his cue to butt in and kiss your cheek. Your lips instantly curl into a smile.
"Don't worry about everyone else. You did amazing, baby, that's all that matters," He tells you.
Andrew lifts his glass at that. "H is right." Harry wants to snap at him to quit it with the nickname. But as another presence approaches, he stops himself.
It's your manager, grinning ear-to-ear. You finally slide off the bar stool to properly hug them.
"Hey, superstar. How are you feeling?" They ask you. Both Harry and Andrew watch solely you and how you expressively answer the question. Smirks find their faces from the thoughts invading their minds.
Your manager holds your hand then looks at Andrew. "Everyone wants to speak to you two. I say stay together and kinda circle the room. Okay?" Harry groans out loud, not caring about your manager's scold.
You giggle and back yourself into your boyfriend. He still huffs while holding onto you protectively.
"I'll take good care of her, Harry," Andrew sounds assuring to you, but Harry can read him just by the look his face. You pat Andrew's chest for his attention, which he easily gives you.
"So, what you're saying is that you'll speak for me, and I don't have to talk to anyone," You joke, making everyone laugh. Harry squeezes your sides and presses a kiss to your shoulder. Your naked arm wraps behind him to land in his hair. The other brings your drink to your lips.
Andrew clears his throat. "That's exactly what I mean. Just need you to smile and wave." You cheer theatrically. Your manager claps their hands.
"Perfect. I'll guide you two around. Let's go." Andrew already moves to follow them, but you lag behind, waiting for him to step away. When he's gone, you turn around in Harry's arms. You two meet eyes and stare at each other, lovingly.
"Gonna miss me?" You ask, sipping at your drink.
"Don't know how I'm gonna manage," He sighs playfully. And his heart throbs again at the sound of your perfect laugh. "You owe me a dance, though."
"I'm saving all my good moves for you, Styles," You giggle. "Now kiss me, please." Harry doesn't hesitate to hold you in a passionate, champagne tasting kiss. Tongues are swiftly included, but you pull back before it continues.
"Am I allowed to find someone to hang out with while you get Garfield?" Harry asks, both of your foreheads touching. Your eyebrows furrow.
"You're asking if you can talk to anyone in this room besides me? Absolutely not." Your face is serious when you answer. Harry laughs and can't help his craving for your lips. "Go ahead and mingle, grumpy. I'll try to be as quick as possible," You say while caressing his cheek in your hand.
Harry nods as you step back. "Alright, you need to leave or I'm going to have no choice but to take you on this bar counter," He says. You glance over at the bar and pop up a suggestive eyebrow. Harry pokes at your breast to stop you from testing him.
"I'd be down, but I don't think that would be sanitary," You shrug.
"With the way you come, definitely not." You gasp, swatting at his shoulder.
"Goodbye, Styles." You spin on your heel and lift a hand to wave. Harry unabashedly watches your ass sway as you walk away from him. He sips on his drink, leaning back on the bar.
You catch up to Andrew and your manager—Harry keeping eyes on you. Andrew's eyebrows raise when you show up beside him, and his hand wraps around your waist. It looks polite and friendly to everyone surrounding them but Harry's hand squeezes around his glass at the action.
Just fucking wait until he gets you home.
-
You are tired and horny as Harry leads you out of the afterparty building and to the car. He doesn't give you time to give anyone a proper goodbye, especially Andrew, because he physically drags you away. He's a man on a mission.
"Why are you making me walk so fast, Harry? My feet hurt," You whine at the pounding throb in your heels. You notice the dimple indenting his cheek as he chuckles. You childishly pout, knowing he's laughing at you. "Meanie," You mutter.
When you two get outside, the cameras instantly hit you, forcing you to hide against Harry's chest. You feel the groan he lets out as he holds you. The one thing he hates more than your co-star are paparazzi. Especially when they swarm you like this. Harry has been a star since he was a teenager—he's used to this.
But he can feel his ears smoke with rage when you get attacked by paparazzi. There are guards surrounding the two of you to help. So, Harry becomes your eyes as he guides you blindly into your designated car.
You hear a door handle being pulled. "Get in, baby. I got you," Harry yells over the loud voices calling out to you. He helps you slide into your seat before he's following behind you. An arm still stay around you as he finds your chin to lift to him. "You okay, baby?" He asks, pecking the corner of your mouth. Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the dimmed car. The tinted windows block the camera flashes that punch against the glass.
"Yeah," you more or so whine. Harry laughs and softly kisses your lips.
"Good, gotta make sure I always take care of my baby, huh?" He breaths into your mouth. He tastes like champagne and fruits—platters of them were being passed around. You moan within the kiss to ask for more. Harry will gladly give you anything you want. He moves his hands down to squeeze at your curves while sucking on your lips.
Something suddenly turns on inside of you that makes your body completely crave for your boyfriend. The car takes off and speeds down the populated road, hiding the moaning couple behind the wide windows. Harry grips your sides to assist you on his lap as you plead for him.
"Love being close to you," Harry groans when you sit on top of him and press your chest to his. Your slightly taller height makes his chin tilt up to stare at your floaty eyes. "What do you want, Y/N. Tell me." Your hands are around his throat—for balance as the car takes sharp turns, and to force out the vocals that escape him as you squeeze it.
"More," You puff out, before finding his lips again. They don't break away as you slowly start to grind yourself on the dent in his pants.
As your dress is short, Harry grabs the hem and lifts it so only your panties are in the way. You gasp at the new sensitivity.
"Go on," Harry says, groping your ass cheeks as you move on him. He slaps one cheek before digging his nubbed nails into them to claim what's already his. “Use me.” Your hand moves to his shoulder while the other grips the seat behind him.
Your moans are against his mouth as both of your jaws freeze agape. Harry's breath is hot as it brushes yours. He can feel you wetting his pants, but he keeps his hands tame on your ass instead of finding your cunt.
He's waiting until he gets you upstairs and next door to a certain someone before unleashing himself. He has hours of raging, predatory emotions that need to be thrusted inside of you. Whether it's in your mouth or cunt, Harry needs to have you. He's let some other man have you for far too long.
You reach between the two of you to hook a finger in your panties. Harry knows what you're trying to do, so he gently stops you. Your eyebrows furrow at him. "Why?" You choke out, still continuing to brush your clit against him. It shocks every nerve when he nudges you.
"Just... not yet. Wait til we get upstairs, okay?" He says, looking up at you. His eyes suddenly dilate at the sight. It's the same angle from that scene in your movie. But instead of getting the smug smirk of Anna—her hissing voice taunting Maddy, Harry looks up at begging eyes and pouted lips that push out a whine. He gets a you only he's privileged to see. It causes a drunk smile to form.
"What?" You question from his new look. He only shakes his head, before leaning forward to kiss you. "Why can't we? Please."
"Be patient."
As he says that, the car hits a pothole, causing you to accidentally push down against his cock. You gasp loudly, tightening your hand on his shoulder. Harry has to shut his eyes to calm himself down as he's one more thrust into taking you right in this car.
The rest of the drive home feels longer than to the afterparty. Maybe it's because of Harry trying to hold back from yanking himself out his pants. Or from the sight of you hovering over him, your temptress lips trailing his jaw and puffing out a fruit-scented breath.
You weren't making the car ride any easier for him. You don't know why he wants to wait, but you could care less. You discreetly rotate your hips, pretending like you're simply adjusting in your spot. But the tut Harry gives you makes it obvious that you're chasing for a release.
Harry has to physically lift you off his lap to stop you. The wet stain on his raised pants has him biting his lip. He can almost taste you on his tongue.
You whine at the disconnection and lean forward to kiss him, hoping to distract his hands. It works for a moment as they slide up your back. So, you swiftly drop back down on his lap, both of you moaning.
"Baby, just wait," Harry tells you, holding you up again. "I'll give you everything you want, okay?"
"I want it now," You complain like a child, pushing at his hands to release them from your sides. But his grip only tightens. Harry laughs at your weak slap to the back of his hand. You huff and decide to finally listen so you don't end up in a punishment.
"Good girl."
"Stop riling me up," you say and flick him. His nose shrivels to laugh.
"I'm sorry."
"But you're not," You snap, pinching his chin. Harry smiles widely at your perfect, frowned face.
"I am," He argues playfully. You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder, your body calming down.
"I miss when you had the hormonal tendencies of a caveman."
Harry slaps at your ass. "You mean when I had to carry you around because you couldn't walk."
You nod on his shoulder, before kissing it. "Princess treatment and good sex? I was spoiled. The good ol' days."
Harry smirks but you can't see it. "Oh, I can make it happen again. Just wait until we're upstairs."
You lift your head to look at him. His expression is smug and dangerous. Another shockwave pulses in your cunt.
"Yay me," You snicker.
As soon as the car pulls up to your hotel, paparazzi are waiting to give you a not-so warm welcome. Harry holds you like before and guides you inside. The rapid, cold flashes of the camera hits him instead, which he's fine with. He'll do anything to protect you.
The hotel doors close behind you two, and Harry walks further inside the lobby before letting you go. You sigh while stretching your muscles straight. Harry fixes your hair that he accidentally messed up.
"You okay?" He asks you with a gentle smile. You step into his space, finding an arm to round his neck. Your answer is a nod, and a long, loving stare that widens his lips. "Good, I love you." Harry gives you a short kiss that you hum into.
Goosebumps run up your naked arm that's around his neck. Harry turns his head to kiss a trail. You watch with your teeth sinking into your lip. You two don't even realize the public setting you're in as your only focus is each other.
Harry takes your arm from his neck to interlace your hand with his. He leads you the elevator and away from the windows of people.
"Now will you let me sit on your cock?" You beg in a broken whisper from how desperate your body suddenly becomes. Harry raises his eyebrows in amusement, looking down at you.
"What a dirty mouth you have, missy," He teases you. You roll your eyes, exaggeratedly. "Don't do that." He pinches your side.
"You're annoying," You groan.
Harry shrugs. "You love me," He smiles.
"Don't assume that. Especially when you rejected me in the car."
"I just told you to wait," He argues with a laugh. Your frown is so pretty. The way your plump lips cast downward, and your brows meet your soft eyes. You're trying to look mad but Harry only finds it cute.
"Yeah, and now I'm dripping and unsatisfied," you point a finger at him.
"I'll gladly take care of that," Harry snorts, leaning down to kiss your forehead.
As you two are walking, ignoring the rest of the guest in the lobby, you guys don't notice a figure jogging up to you.
"Good because—"
"Y/N! Harry! Wait up."
Harry immediately tenses up at that voice, and the dent in his pants dies down.
Fucking Andrew Garfield.
You turn and meet eyes with your co-star. A disappointed-hidden smile finds your lips as you wave at him.
"Hey, Andrew," You say, cheerfully. Harry's hand squeezes yours, and you look over your shoulder at him. His face is hard while staring at Andrew. "Nice dog," You tease and push your ass against him. That earns a raspy groan.
Andrew reaches you two and stuffs his hands in his pockets. "Hey, guys. I didn't see you leave. Thought you ran to the bathroom or something," He chuckles.
"Nah, I got tired and needed Harry to help me escape," You say. "Sorry about that."
Andrew swiftly waves you off. "No worries. I'm glad I found you, though." You playfully aww and pat his chest.
"Miss me that much?" You tease him. The honest words were behind his eyes that only Harry notices. He takes a step closer to your back, feeling your warmth against him.
Andrew only gives Harry a half glance before he's focusing on you. "Of course. Who else could I suffer a million praises with?"
"Yeah, that felt never ending, huh?" You shiver at the amount of mingling your manager put you through before Harry thankfully took you away.
"Felt? No, it was," Andrew raises his eyebrows, making you laugh. "But luckily, I was able to escape too. Unfortunately, I didn't have a Harry to help me." You chuckle and look over at your boyfriend. He only cracks a smile because now you're watching at him. His face was stone cold moments before, glaring at Andrew.
"Well, it was nice seeing you again," You attempt to end the conversation. Harry takes that as his cue to motion you to the elevators.
Andrew's long legs keeps him up to pace with you two. "My room is actually on your floor. Mind if I join the ride up?" He asks, but it's basically rhetorical as he follows.
You groan under your breath—Harry can tell and laughs. "Sure," you shrug, before turning to Harry. "Tired, baby?"
Tired is the complete opposite of what Harry is feeling, but he knows what you're trying to do. He nods and forces a yawn out. "Very," he sighs.
"Same. At least we'll be in bed soon," You respond and reach for the elevator button.
Andrew clears his throat. "It's been a long day, huh?" He asks, specifically you. Harry leans a shoulder against the wall and swings your interlaced hands. Absentmindedly, he brings the back of your hand to his lips. Andrew notices how you sigh lovingly from the gesture.
"Long isn't enough to explain today," You joke. "I'm going to sleep so well, as soon as I hit that bed."
Andrew chuckles. "Yeah, if you hear me snoring loudly, you know why," He says. "I'm next door to you." Your eyebrows raise.
"Oh really?"
"Yeah," He nods. "If Harry gets too annoying, you're always welcome over." The only reason you laugh is because it's expected.
Harry ticks his jaw, just like Andrew wants.
"I'm alright, I can handle this big grump," You say, pressing into your boyfriend.
Luckily, the elevator opens to kill off this conversation. You three step inside—you and Harry taking one side while Andrew leans on the other. He watches as you wrap an arm around Harry's waist and press your head into the crook of his neck. The gesture is intimate and gentle. Your eyes shut, knowing you're safe against your boyfriend.
Harry turns his attention to Andrew and smiles—it looks friendly, but Andrew knows it's anything but. Harry holds the back of your head, and you hum in approval. The soft piano music and the rhythmic ding of the elevator reaching another floor fills up the silence.
Andrew reaches for his tie, loosing it. "So, Harry, when's the next time you think you'll do a movie again?" He asks your boyfriend. Harry shrugs with his lips puckered.
"Not sure. Focusing on music for now," He answers. "But I enjoy just watching Y/N in movies." Your ears stay attentive to the conversation. Even though he can't see it, Harry knows you're smiling at his words.
"Well, I think next time you do, we should be in it together. Would be fun, don't you think?" Andrew says. You suddenly pop your eyes open with a loud gasp. Both men flinch from the sound, surprised, as they stare at you jolting up and clapping your hands.
"Imagine!" You exclaim. "You two in a movie together? The world would go crazy. I would go crazy."
Andrew perks up. "Really?" You nod wildly. "Hmm, maybe you should be in it with us."
"Pretty sure you'd steal all the attention," Harry says and squeezes at your side.
"Well, obviously," You playfully shrug. They both laugh at that. "But you two as partners in crime? Harry Styles and Andrew Garfield? I'd pay good money to watch that movie."
Andrew pops an eyebrow up "Just that good looking, huh?"
"Too good looking." Even though it was a harmless compliment, Andrew took it straight to the heart. He couldn't help the shy smile on his face.
You look up at Harry and hold his shoulders. "Then you can get back at me when all the women in the theater gawk over your character."
Harry rests his hands on your hips. "I don't need to get back at you. And I don't need women gawking at my character."
You roll your eyes and cross your arms. "Ugh, stop being such a fictional man. It's making me uncomfortable." Both Harry and Andrew laugh at your comment. As does the elevator with the sound of the doors sliding open. "Oh, that's us."
The men follow you out, both catching a quick glance at the backside of you. Your black dress hugging your curves, and your naked arm displaying your glowing, smooth skin as you stretch. Your legs powerfully walk down the hall—subconsciously swinging your hips. Harry easily finds his cock tightening against his pants once again.
"You're one lucky bastard," Andrew mutters for only Harry to hear as they trail behind you. A smile grows on Harry's lips.
"I am," He nods. "And you're soon going to be one unlucky bastard," He says, holding Andrew's shoulder for a short second.
He frowns at Harry. "What? Why?"
"You'll hear."
Andrew starts to ask again, but you appear, grabbing at Harry's open suit jacket. You smile kindly at Andrew, "Have a good night, Andy. I had fun!"
With that, you're yanking Harry into your room. But he's quick to wink at your co-star, before you're shutting the door behind you two.
Harry is suddenly being pushed against the same door with you dropping to your knees. You are swift to unbutton his pants and tug them and his boxers down in one go. Your mouth is physically watering from the sight of his cock. Harry lets out a much-needed sigh, finally being released from his tight pants.
"Someone's eager, I see," Harry chuckles over you.
"Whatever," You mutter, looking up at him. "Now are you gonna fuck my throat or what?" Harry's eyes widen in amusement, and his cock twitches from your words.
"Is that what you want, pretty girl?" He leans down and grasps your jaw. It's a hard grip, forcing a whine out of you. His thick thumb pushes pass your lips slowly. You hum and circle your tongue around it—mimicking familiar gestures to his cock.
Harry uses his other hand to fixate your hair into a ponytail. "I love when my girl is so desperate for me—hmm. Yeah, is that what you are?" You nod, sucking on his thumb to rile him up. It works because he hisses under his breath.
"I want to choke on you, H. So bad. Please," You whine, muffled. His thumb pushes down on your tongue, before pulling away and running along your bottom lip.
"Yeah, you were thinking about my cock down your little throat, baby?" Your body shivers from his tone.
"All day," You answer, digging your nails into his thighs to stop yourself from grabbing at his cock that hangs in front of your eyes. Harry hums, taking himself in his hand and pumping slowly. His abs clench, and his head rolls, showcasing the underside of his jaw.
As much as you want his cock inside of your throbbing cunt, you don't have time to wait for that. You need him in you somehow, even if it means coughing and gagging on his cock. Harry is anything but small, and you whine from the thought of him pushing against the walls of your mouth and throat.
Harry continues to pump himself while also dragging the tip of his cock along your lips. Your tongue swipes along the bottom, collecting the come that transferred.
You adjust on your knees, unable to stay still. Harry smirks widely at the sight of you squirming for him. It's all he could ever ask for. For you to only want him.
"Alright, baby, gonna let me choke you now?" Harry pushes down on your lip to separate them.
"Yes, please," You say, before sticking your tongue out without him even needing to ask you. His desperate girl.
Harry's hand tightens on your hair to get a good grip. You suck in a breath, preparing yourself as he leans his hips forward. As soon as his tip slides inside your mouth, you're a moaning mess. He's heavy and warm with a lingering taste of salt.
Harry curses under his breath as he watches himself disappear into you, slowly to laver the feeling of his cock being warmed up. The noises you let out vibrate around him. His legs instantly lock up from it.
Your eyes stay trained on Harry and his hard expression. He softly taps on your chin, silently asking you to open wider. You do your best to widen. The stretch to your throat as he pushes farther already causes you to gag.
Harry gasps, pausing his movements. You feel him tighten his grip on your hair. "Fuck me, Y/N," he groans, fluttering his eyes shut. "Already about to make me come." He whimpers. A sense of pride blossoms inside you.
Being praised is already a kink of yours, but it's grown since being with Harry. Having that assurance that you're making him feel good is always great to hear.
You have to shift again as your feel yourself dripping in your already filled panties. You let go of Harry's thighs momentarily to pull the hem of your dress over your ass. The whiff of cold air hitting your clit against your panties makes you moan. And that goes straight to Harry's cock.
He snaps his hips forward, pushing as far as he can. "Oh, god, baby. Fuck... fuck... yes," Harry mumbles. He brushes his thumb against your cheek. "Not even gonna give me a chance to fuck your mouth? So desperate for my come, aren't you?"
Your eyes are apologetic but also taunting. Harry smirks, slowly pulling his cock from you. You both watch him escape, slick with your saliva, and the drool connects from his tip to your mouth. His jaw falls agape at the sight.
"Okay, you ready for me?" He holds himself straight. You nod and open your mouth. "Just stay there and look pretty for me." You giggle and nod again.
Harry slips into your mouth. The wet noises and gurgling you let out fills the room. You try to relax your mouth, focusing on breathing before he starts his bullet pace.
Harry pulls back again, but not all the way. He pauses for a second that you flick your eyes up to him. The expression on his face is a dangerous smirk that widens to a devilish smile.
You don't have time to process what's happening as Harry suddenly snaps his hips forward—beginning a speedy pace. You gasp a moan, holding his thighs, tightly.
"Good fucking girl. Always—god—always taking me so well," Harry praises as he watches himself pump into your mouth. Your eyes suddenly swell with tears. You fight the gag that boils up every time he hits the back of your throat. But that doesn't last long as you choke on a deeper thrust.
Harry drags out a raspy moan, twitching inside of you. This isn't the first time you've taken him like this, but it always feels as if. You're always caught off guard by his size as it stretches your mouth sore. Him simply sliding slowly down your throat has you choking, so he usually needs to prepare you for his throat-fucking pace.
You whimper from the man hovering over you. His eyes are lidded and drunk-like as he swipes his tongue over his bottom lip. He traces his focus on your facial features with a lazy smile. He moans incoherent words under his breath, unable to form a sentence.
Harry's hips don't slow down, snapping forward to a high tempo beat. The noises of his cock hitting your throat so recklessly is his favorite sound. Partnered with your muffle whine for more.
"Fuck, Y/N. You don't even know you good you feel around me," Harry lets the words wander out his mouth without thought. "Taking me like no one else can. Claiming my cock, aren't you?" The question is rhetorical because with the grip he has on your hair, you aren't able to properly move your head to nod.
You feel Harry twitch again inside your mouth. And the way he chokes out a gasp, you can tell he's close. Drool dribbles down your chin, but the thick white coat of it reveals that it's accompanied by Harry's come.
"Milking me dry, baby. Can't save any for your cunt, huh? Gotta be greedy and take it all. God, I got such a fucking greedy girl." Harry tilts his head to the side, giving you a degrading look that you moan around his cock. He smiles slowly at your response. "Yeah, you won't even deny it. Fuck. M'gonna come and give you what you want. Think you deserve it?"
With his pace making it hard for you to keep up, you answer by squeezing at his clenching thighs as they assist his thrusts.
Harry suddenly yanks you out of his mouth. You immediately gasp for air—the sting in the back of your throat feels sore and raw. Harry covers his cock with his hand, pumping it just has fast as his previous pace.
You whine at the sight, subconsciously letting your mouth open. You're desperate for his taste on your tongue. It sticks out, signaling his aim to be in your mouth.
"You better fucking swallow it all, Y/N. If you're my good girl then you'll take all of me, right?" Harry leans down to kiss the tip of your nose. You nod and wiggle your tongue to taunt him. He smirks and quickens his pace on his cock.
Harry is suddenly groaning a noise from the back of his throat—it's gravelly and monotone. He knocks his head back for a second as his legs lock up. You shift your mouth slightly to line yourself with his cock, ready for him.
Ropes of come shoot out Harry's tip, mainly aiming in your mouth, while some lands on your chin and cheeks. Your tongue swipes all of it back in your mouth, though. Harry is able to loll his head down to watch weakly as you collect every drop of him.
"You're perfect, baby. So fucking good to me," He wavers, before pressing a hard kiss to your lips. You moan within it, grabbing at his neck to keep him close. Harry chuckles from your desperation. "I got you, baby."
You're lifted from the ground and in Harry's arms. Your dress rides up higher as your legs wrap around him.
"Gonna let me take care of you now? I can have you however I want?" Harry whispers against your lips. You giggle with a nod.
"However you want."
-
You are laid out on your bed, placed there by Harry. He stands at the edge, examining every inch of your body in silence. You wait cautiously, slightly squirming from his intense stare.
Your small dress was peeled off you, only the lace pieces of your undergarment hugging you. Harry, on the other hand, is completely naked. As soon as he got you undressed, his limp cock instantly grew again.
Harry finally reaches for you, circling your legs to hold the underside of your knees. The hot touch of his hands forces you to gasp, but you quickly roll your lips inwards to shush yourself. Harry smirks, loving how a simple touch to your skin triggers you.
"For hours—hours—I had to hold back from dropping in front of you and eating that fucking cunt in front of everyone." You whine from his words. "I wanted to kiss all up your body, bite your skin to make marks for everyone to see," Harry speaks softly, leaning down to meet your knee. His plush lips press light kisses that lead to your thighs. He drops to the ground and lets the underside of your knees rest on his shoulders.
His head continuously turns to give equal attention to each thigh. You shiver from the sensitivity, the more he moves to the inside. His eyes flick up to you as his tongue sticks out and swirls a pattern. You watch in a trance. His eyes are soft and filled with adoration for you.
You smile gently and reach for his hair to twirl your finger around. Harry finds himself sucking on your thighs. "I remember watching Andrew between your legs, just like this," Harry speaks against your skin. His teeth swiftly bite down, causing you to gasp. "He was kissing your soft thighs, getting a whiff of your dripping cunt."
You suddenly frown, sitting up on your elbows to get a better look at Harry. "What?" You say.
"Mhm, he kissed down your thigh like this—" He presses harder kisses to your thighs, moving his head closer to your center. "Your head threw back as his lips pressed to your covered cunt. He said you smelled so good, and you moaned just from that."
Your eyes look sad and confused when Harry glances up at you. "No," You whisper. "I was acting."
"And he hooked a finger around your panties—red because he told you it was his favorite color," Harry continues. The ones you're wearing are white—Harry's favorite set. And they can't hide the obvious wet spot. "You were being a good girl and lifted your ass to help him slide them off. Like you were so desperate to have him on you with no barrier." Harry cocks a brow up when you don't move.
Your expression is hurt as you stare at your boyfriend. "Why are you saying that?" Harry smiles and rests his cheek on the inside of your thigh.
"I'm going to do exactly what he did to you. But I want you screaming louder. I want you whimpering and whining because you can't take it anymore but you still greedily want more. I want you squirming from the pleasure, and trying to shut your legs closed. I don't want the memory of you wanting him, I only want to see you want me."
You pause dumbfounded. Harry acts as if he didn't just say that and juts his teeth out, reaching for your panties. He grips the lace right over your clit. Your eyes are still widened as you lift your hips to assist him. His dimples give away his smirk.
Harry holds your legs up while he peels your panties away. His height stretches when he rises up straight. He spits your panties off to the side, before leaning down to rest his hands next to your breasts. Your legs are bent with your feet plant weakly on the bed. With your cunt on display and Harry's eyes staring unabashedly at it, your legs wobble from the intensity surrounding the room.
"So, you remember what happened next?" Harry speaks up, hovering over your face. You do.
"Yes," you answer quietly. Harry smirks, closing the distance between your faces so his breath is grazing your skin.
"Tell me then, babygirl," He says.
You shake your head, sadly, "But I don't want to be them. I want to be us." Harry's eyes soften for a moment. He sees the way your eyes turn glossy. He can't help but capture your lips. You gladly accept the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.
"Move back," Harry speaks before grabbing your lips again. You push up the bed, and he crawls over you. When you feel the pillows, you stop—your legs now able to stretch out straight.
Harry starts to lower himself, letting his weight top you. He stares down at your face cautiously. Your throat forces out a whine from the warm, heavy body of your boyfriend weighing on you. This is one of your favorite positions because you love to feel Harry press down on you. It makes you feel safe as you're surrounded by only him.
"I don't want to be Anna and Maddy either, baby," Harry starts to speak. "I want to be just us too."
"So, why are you—"
"He needs to know that it's not Anna and Maddy. It's only us. It'll always be us," Harry interrupts you with a pained look. You hold Harry's jaw, finding his eyes filled with unwanted thoughts.
You press a kiss to his nose. "Who? Who needs to know?" You ask. Harry only stares at you, and that's all you need to understand. A sinister smirk peeks on your lips. "Oh. I see."
Harry replicates your face, glad you're on the same page. "Now, baby, do you remember what happened next?"
You bite your lip, pretending to look deep in thought. Harry chuckles, quickly nibbling on your neck, before looking at you again.
"I think he lifted my legs to my chest," You say. Harry nods and moves from on top of you. He sits on his knees—not missing the opportunity to quickly flick at your nipple. You look up at his glistening chest, scattered with your favorite tattoos. His chest heaves as he picks up your legs and pushes at them.
"He made you hold them, huh?" Harry asks when your hands find the back of your thighs to press to your breasts. You nod at his question, and tilt your head at his disapproved tut. "I'd never make my baby do the work. All she has to do is lay there and take it."
Your hands are smacked away with a surprised gasp. Harry grabs your shins, keeping your bent legs against your chest. From the force, your ass slightly lifts off the bed, and now your cunt is in the perfect spot for him. He smiles down at it, impulsively licking his lips.
"I remember you trying to keep quiet," Harry speaks while lowering himself to a comfortable position. He grazes his lips over the skin beside your cunt. "But with me, Y/N, I want to hear everything."
You nod rapidly with a whine from his tone. It's demanding but pleading, as if he needs to hear you.
Harry rims your cunt with his warm tongue. He licks at the sticky juices that also ended up in your panties. Your neck strains as you try to watch, but you already feel your limbs growing weak.
In a quick move, Harry plunges his tongue inside your cunt, mimicking the curl of his finger to reach a specific spot. You let out a surprised scream, gasping and grasping at the sheets. Harry smiles against you, getting exactly what he needs.
He keeps you open and at his mercy as he attacks your cunt with his tongue. His thumb assists by flicking and circling your clit. He switches between being gentle to play with your sensitivity to suddenly pinching your clit and yanking a pained but pleasurable moan out of you.
His tongue swirls the letters of your name—a familiar motion. You let out a scattered hum, but the dark look Harry flicks up at you changes your previous reaction. "Fuck Harry!" You yelp, before digging your teeth into your lip. "Yes! Please." Harry's cock twitches under him from the growl lingering in your voice.
Cold rings start to knead your ass, causing you to flinch. Your body is on fire that his hands on you sound a sizzle. "Always taste so good, baby. Never can get enough of you." Harry's lips graze your cunt as he speaks before plunging his tongue back in you like a starved man.
Your head is digging back into the pillow—back arched at the perfect angle for Harry. "More! Please, more, Harry," You beg, wanting him deeper and faster while also pushing his head away because it's too much.
Harry will always be proud to admit the power you have over him. You have him wrapped around your little finger. Just from your plead, his cock is already thick and throbbing. He runts against the sheets for slight relief.
Your voice cracks as you release another extended moan. It rings around the room. Harry gets sloppy from the sound. He moves to suck on your clit, knowing how to push you over the edge. His fingers replace his tongue and pump in your cunt. He searches for a certain spot before curling them, and you gasp loudly from it.
"Let him know, Y/N," Harry dares you, pressing wet kisses around your clit. You take him up on that dare and yelp out his name, Harry's groan against your clit vibrates through your whole body.
"I'm gonna come, Harry. Fuck!" You cry, holding the back of his head. With Harry's fingers distracted by your cunt and playing with your ass, nothing keeps your legs open, so they instantly close around his head. Harry thinks to push them apart, but your scent is trapped in the inclosed space.
It's not so bad in there.
Harry quickens his flicking tongue on your clit and plunges another thick finger in your cunt. Your feet find the bed, and you're lifting off the bed, chasing Harry's mouth.
He laughs and kisses your clit. "I got you, baby." You feel your release creeping on you. And Harry knows it too because he focuses on your clit, nibbling on the sensitive nub.
"Harry!" You get out before you're coming. The noises you scream are pornographic, worst than the ones you practiced with your intimacy coordinator for the movie. Harry drags his warm tongue along your clit to guide you through it.
You're panting and mumbling curses under your breath. Harry finds your legs to push back down on the bed. He follows the trail of come on the inside of your thigh to lick up.
You flinch at his delicate touch. Your throat is completely dry as you breathe out harshly.
Harry is suddenly hovering over you with a smug smirk. You don't have the energy to comment on it as you catch your breath.
"Hi, baby," He chuckles, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth. You hum tiredly. "I'm gonna take your bra off, okay?" You nod slowly and arch your back to help him.
Harry slips the undergarment off of you and tosses it away. You're now completely naked and shining under the dim light in the room. Harry smiles down at you proudly, crawling down your body.
He finds a nipple to latch onto and sucks softly. You hold the back of his head, tangling your hand in his curls. He kneads your other breasts, before switching to give it a wet suck.
When Harry looks up as sees you coming back to him, he smiles softly. You tug on his hair, asking for his lips, which he gladly gives you.
For a while, you're stuck in a passionate, hot and sloppy, make-out session, bodies warm against each other. Harry's cock ruts against your cunt, causing you both to jump and gasp.
"I don't think he's heard us enough," You suddenly whisper in the air. Harry looks down at you, and a wide smirk forms on his lips.
"Yeah? You don't think so?"
You shake your head shyly. "I think we should keep going."
"Me too, baby," Harry chuckles, sitting up on his knees. "Now, if I'm remembering correctly, I think Maddy took Anna like this—" Harry is gentle with flipping you around til you're on your stomach. You turn your head so your cheek is in the pillow. "What a fucking sight." Harry moans softly and he doesn't waste another second kneading your ass.
He leans down to kiss both cheeks, sucking for a short second. To your surprise, you feel your cheeks being spread apart and Harry's hot tongue pressing against your hole. You try to clench closed, but his strength overpowers yours, so you just have to take it.
"Harry," You gasp. Harry chuckles against your cheeks, before stopping and rising. Your knees push into the bed for leverage. You lift up on your hands and arch your back—actually assisting him. Harry holds his cock with one hand, continuing to knead your ass with the other.
"Arch a little more, baby," Harry says softly, and you do as told. Your cunt lips spread, causing your boyfriend to groan and slip a finger inside you.
You don't expect it, so you squeeze around him in a flinch.
"You're so tight. Think you can take me this cock?" Harry smirks, and you look over your shoulder at him.
"Easily," You tease with a little wiggle to your ass. "It's all mine."
Harry sighs. "Yes, it is," he says more himself with a gentle smile. That's all he ever needs to hear. He pumps himself a little faster, hardening himself completely. He's thick and veiny as his tip nudges your entrance.
Harry has a tight lip smirk on his face as he thrusts inside you—faster than you expected. Your jaw drops agape as you let out a loud yelp, followed by, "Fuck, Harry!" He slaps at your ass for your language.
His fingers dig into your hips as he shifts them to match his pace. Skin smacking against each other loudly, but not reaching the level of your moans. You want to bit into your arm, thinking you're too loud, but Harry surprises you when his hand comes around to slap at your clit.
"Not loud enough," he scolds. "Guess I'm not fucking you good enough, huh?" He chuckles—it's dark that it makes you shiver. You shake your head, disagreeing with him. "No? Then why can't he hear you?"
You fall to your elbows as your arms grow limp. Harry lets go of one of your hips to grab at your hair and keep your head up. The sudden yank to your roots makes you yelp. "F-f-fu-fuck—" you slur out, "you're so—god—"
"I'm so what, babygirl?" Harry asks teasingly, planting a foot on the bed to change his thrusting angle. His cock is in heaven, stuck inside your warm, silky walls. The grumble that emits in his chest bursts to a raspy moan out his mouth.
You whine, reaching a hand back for him. Harry untangles his hand in your hair to let you grab at his arm. His thick, sweaty bicep clenches when you dig your nails into it.
"So deep," You say in a whisper, almost losing your voice. Harry's thrust gain a force that jolts you forward. The bed hits the wall continuously—creaking to the same beat as your moans. "My stomach—" you cry.
Harry curses under his breath, his cock twitching. "Fuck, baby. You feel me deep in your stomach?" You nod against the pillow. Tears rim in your eyes as he bullets into your cunt. The pain is pleasure.
Harry's palm pushes into your lower abdomen, and he feels his cock against his hand. He gasps, fingers curling into you. "Oh, FUCK!"
Your knees give out, dropping both of you on the bed. Harry's heavy weight and his cock still stuck in your stomach, causes you to whine.
"I'm so close," You cry out a whisper. "Don't stop, please, Harry." Your clit, now against the mattress, throbs from being stimulated. You follow Harry's movements and hump into the bed, playing with yourself. He realizes what you're doing and groans from it.
"Fucking into the bed, babygirl?" You nod slowly.
"It feels so good. You feel so—oh my god."
Harry continues to push his cock in you, slower than before because he's starting to feel weak himself.
With him close, his lips find your ear to kiss. "I'm gonna come so fucking hard in you, baby. Can't get enough of this cunt. It's so good—" Harry hums, before groaning at you squeezing around him.
His hands find the back of yours and curls his fingers around you, pushing both of your hands under the pillows. Your head is facing the side, crying under him.
"I want it so bad. Please, please, please—" You continue to beg for him, and Harry could come just from that. But he always makes sure you get there first. He loves when you clench so hard around him and warm his cock with your come.
Harry presses long kisses to your ear, allowing you to listen to his sweet groans. His hips push into your ass, short but bullet thrusts, knowing your body and how this gets you off faster.
He lets go of your hands to travel his under your body and to your breasts. They're pushed into the bed, so he digs for them. His big hands grope both, before flicking at your nipples.
"I love you so much, Y/N," Harry says to you. "Please give it to me. Come just for me, baby. Squeeze this fucking cunt around me. Yes! Just like that—" You're clenching so hard, feeling your release exploding inside you.
Harry continues a slow thrust while you're coming. He moves his lips to the corner of your mouth as you scream out his name. His weight pushing you into the bed squeezes the sounds out of you.
You're gasping and crying when you come down. "I can't—too much," You whisper from the sensitivity. You try to escape his cock as it knocks against your sweet spot.
"I know, babygirl. I know. Just take it, okay? Be good for me," Harry kisses every spot on your face. "Already being such a good girl. Just a little more. I know it's so much, huh?" You nod, whimpering again. "But you're doing so fucking good. I'm gonna give you all of my come, okay? I'm almost there."
You still whine and try to squeeze his cock out of you. Harry plays with your nipples to distract you.
"Pretty breasts, just fit so perfectly in my hands." He gasps at your walls tightening around his cock. "And this cunt. Just so fucking perfect. Don't wanna be in any other cunt but this one. This cunt is only for this cock. Right, baby?"
You sniffle and answer verbally. "Yes, just for you, H. I—please."
"Then let him know that. Ask for my come. Tell him you only want this cock fucking you like this." Harry gets on his knees but keeps his chest against your back to stay close. "Go on, beg for this come."
Your hands reach behind you to Harry's ass as they clench when he thrusts in you. You try to clear your throat as it's hoarse. "H, please come in me. I need your come so bad!" You yell over the bed banging against the wall. "Fuck! I love your cock, baby. Just this one. Please, fill me up. I want it!"
Harry groans with his lips against your cheek. With one final thrust, Harry is spurting thick ropes inside of you. You're clenching as tight as you can to milk him.
He's a moaning mess against you. He's breathing heavily, and you softly squeeze his ass to help him through his high.
"Make sure you take it all, baby," Harry says as he pushes his cock as deep as he can. "Mmm, never wanna leave. Gonna live in your cunt forever." You giggle, as he chuckles from the sound of you, before sighing.
Harry lays on top of you for a little while longer, whispering sweet nothings and attacking you with kisses, before he captures your lips.
You're sensitive and sore everywhere. Harry softly kneads your body to comfort you through it. He waits until your breathing goes back to normal to relax. Another kiss to your lips as a thank you for allowing him to take care of some much needed release.
"So," you start as Harry sits up on his knees and flips you on your back. He sets back on you, but holds some of his weight by leaning on his elbows. "Are you done being so possessive?" You cock up a playful brow.
Harry rolls his eyes. "Never." Then a wicked smile finds his lips. "Actually, I don't think I'm done."
"What?" You basically gasp when Harry moves down your body. Your legs clench, but Harry is quicker to grab them. "Har—" But you can't finish as you're moaning and arching off the bed once again.
Two more quick orgasms are pulsing out of your cunt as Harry tongues at your cunt and flicks at your sensitive clit. You have to physically push his face away and clench your legs together to stop him.
Your voice is completely gone by the time Harry helps you to the bathroom and gets you ready for bed. When you're both under the covers, Harry enters a sort of sub space, wanting to be held and comforted.
You both lay facing each other—Harry's head is against your breasts that he suckles on, looking up at you with sweet, doe eyes. Your fingers tangle in his hair, which he hums appreciatively at.
"Why were you so jealous today?" You ask him. He only shrugs, pushing further into your breasts, if that was even possible.
"I'm sorry," he answers instead.
"Don't be," You find his jaw to tilt his head up at you. You smile softly, before kissing each of his eyes. "I know it's not easy to share me. Or watch me act in a movie like that. But I would assume it's easy to remember that, at the end of the day, I'll always come back to you."
Harry suddenly feels ashamed that he even thought about you wanting Andrew over him.
"Hey," You get his attention. He starts to apologize, but you shut him up with a kiss. "I want you, Harry Styles. Yesterday, today, tomorrow, and every day after that."
The smile that forms on his face assures you that he understands. "And I want you, Y/N L/N. Yesterday, today, tomorrow, and every day after that."
You suddenly frown. "Uh, you fucking better or I'll be beating some bitch's ass for making you think otherwise."
Harry laughs loudly. His nose shrivels from how hard he does. "And I thought my jealously was bad."
"I deal with woman wanting you every single day, just because you exist. My jealousy is ten times worse than yours." Harry sighs, looking at you longly.
"I guess I should be comforting you every day."
You shake your head. "You do without even noticing. I know you love me."
"More than you will ever know, baby."
You two share a long, silent stare, filled with love that can't translate into words. So, instead, it turns into a kiss that sends you both to sleep.
-
You're still knocked out when Harry wakes up with a glow to him. He's all smile as he stretches and yawns. He looks over at you, now the little spoon—somehow turning into that position when you both slept.
Harry slips away from you, not without kissing up your neck and jaw. You hum in your sleep with a lazy smile. Harry chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth, before getting out of bed.
He quickly throws on appropriate lounge clothes to leave the room with. He heads downstairs to the breakfast buffet, hoping to find something you'll enjoy. Sometimes you are picky when it comes to breakfast.
When arriving, he sees minimal people there. He walks inside and grabs two plates.
He hums in thought, deciding what to put on your plate. While doing so, he notices another person also scooping up food from the trays.
Andrew Garfield.
But after your conversation last night, Harry doesn't feel that boiling pit of anger in his stomach when he looks at him. He simply shrugs him off and starts making your plate.
Andrew feels another presence and looks over at Harry. The men meet eyes—but the usual tension isn't there.
Andrew suddenly frowns, whipping his head away and continuing to fixate his plate.
"You heard?" Harry speaks up.
Andrew frowns and nods once. “Yeah, I heard.”
Harry smirks, turning away to work on your breakfast. “Good," he says more to himself.
-
well.
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labyrinth | peter parker
pairing: peter parker (andrew garfield)/gn!reader
additional tags: fluff, meet cute
warnings: referenced character death (gwen), angst
summary: peter finds love again nearly a decade since gwen's death.
note: this is like. a brain fart. i barely proofread this so like i'm just gonna HOPE it's not complete ass. happy reading!
The air was already biting cold in November. Peter had been sitting on the same bench for about an hour now, orange leaves clinging to his coat. Every so often, he would break out of his trance to brush them off. Gwen had gotten it for him on their first Valentine’s Day together after she saw him wearing one of his uncle’s old ones. She joked about how it made him look like he was hiding little packets of crack in his pocket. His lips twitched into a smile before he inhaled deeply, trying to remember the sound of her laugh. The real sound of her laugh, not the one that crackles through the speakers of his old laptop whenever he missed her. It’s been that long. He was always terrified he’d forget her: how her eyes twinkled when she learned something new, how her hair always seemed to be perfectly in place, or how her scent took over his room after every visit.
There were days when he couldn’t even get out of bed, too consumed by his grief to move a muscle. On the flip side, there were days when he could feel like himself again. Days where he allowed himself to smile and just be the nerd he’d always been. He knew it was what Gwen would’ve wanted. By some miracle, it was what she fell in love with. She loved Peter Parker and that was the only reason he had to not lose himself as Spider-Man. Despite it all, he found it got easier with time. It was easier to live with himself now. It was easier to accept that it wasn’t his fault. Four years has passed since her death and he was just barely accepting it still, but it didn’t hurt so much anymore.
It was rare for him to have the time to just go out and enjoy what the city had to offer. New York could be a real piece of work: that was evident from just how much Spider-Man had to deal with in the past few months, but it was home. Central Park was a place he hadn’t visited in a while, so he tried to not dwell in his thoughts too much and enjoy the rare opportunity. Admittedly, there wasn’t much to do but people-watch, but it was a nice change of pace for Peter. With how hectic things were at work on top of his responsibilities as a vigilante, he was exhausted. He was tired of being Peter Parker. It was nice to just be invisible for once.
He snorted. If middle-school Peter heard that, he would’ve been firmly smacked on the head by his younger self. He always wanted to fit in with the cool kids back then. He achieved that to some degree. Sure, he was more well-known as a dweeb rather than a cool guy, but he was still well-known. Even now, he realized his desires didn’t change all that much. It’s just that this time, he wished he could have a house and a dog and a proper job and be friends with normal people. Instead, he was still renting an apartment in a less-than-ideal part of town that he could barely keep. Before he could slip further into his self-deprecation, he was pulled away from his thoughts by something sitting next to him. On his right was a puppy, no more than a year old, slobbering all over the bench with a bright green ball in its mouth. Peter could only stare at it before the puppy carefully placed the wet ball on his lap, urging him to throw it. Before he could do anything, you jogged up to them and picked up both the dog and the ball.
“I’m so sorry, sir! I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately!” your eyes wandered down to the wet patch on Peter’s thigh where the ball used to be. “God, you don’t have somewhere to be, do you? I’m really, really sorry!”
You were really jittery. That was the only word Peter could think of to describe you. You didn’t know where to put your hands: between holding the happy pup, the ball with said pup’s drool all over it, or trying to introduce yourself to the man your dog decided was “the chosen one”, Peter was pretty entertained. Then he felt bad.
“It’s no problem really,” he reassured you before pointing to the troublemaker in your arms fondly. “You’ve got a cute puppy. Too bad I didn’t get to throw the ball though.”
The sigh of relief you let out must’ve been cartoony because you swore you saw him smile, then he stood up and handed you a handkerchief. You looked at it for a few moments before accepting it with your one wet free hand gratefully. He remembered thinking at the time that you looked so welcoming. Like a friend you can always talk to even if you haven’t seen each other in a while. It might’ve been his senses messing with him, but the air felt clearer then. Your arrival cleared a fog in his mind, and he didn’t even know your name. So he told you his instead, his gloved hand touching yours for the first time in what seemed to be just a polite handshake. Looking back on it now, perhaps that was the first sign.
You told him your name, trying not to stare at the man in front of you. His eyes were so… kind. They were big and round and full of wonder, maybe a little dampened by age. Kind but tired. They should’ve been just as average as any other set of eyes you’ve seen, but when the sunlight hit them just right, it reminded you of swirls of honey. The rest of him surely didn’t disappoint. Maybe a few seconds in, you realized you must’ve been gawking at him, so you said your goodbyes and tried to forget about it on the way home.
Not that you could, but he couldn’t either.
A couple of weeks had passed. His patrols happened less often now with him working so much during the day. Between the bills and the pressure of being a functioning adult, Peter found it difficult to keep his head above water. He stared at his reflection in the full-length mirror he got from May’s old stuff. He was older. He was sadder. The suit still fit as well as it could, but squeezing into it was more of a chore now than an exciting flipping-of-the-switch into his alter-ego. His hands shook, if only for a moment, before he pulled down the mask over his head. The fire escape creaked under his weight before bouncing back into place as Spider-Man finally leaped off and swung into the night.
“It’s just another patrol,” he reminded himself. “You get this done and you can get some sleep.”
It must’ve been two hours into his patrol when he heard you. His ears perked up at the sound of your voice. Before he could even register what was happening, his body was already swinging its way to you.
“Sherlock!” you called out. “Sherlock! Where are you?”
This was impossible. You loved your dog to bits but you’d think he’d think twice before dashing away from you at the slightest rustle of a bush.
“You need some help?” a voice came from behind you.
You jumped and swung your fist at whoever it was. Peter managed to narrowly avoid your sucker punch so he stepped back and held up his hands, in fear of freaking you out even more.
“WOAH! Woah, woah, hey…” he tried to calm you down, his actions about as frantic as your own. “I’m Spider-Man! I’m here to help!”
Red and blue spandex. Wide white lenses. Your mind finally processed what was going on in front of you. Spider-Man was here.
Holy shit, Spider-Man was here.
Once again, you were apologizing to him. Not that you would ever know that it was the same person. You explained that you were trying to find your dog, and he listened. He clung to your every word, whether he meant to or not. That same fog in his head cleared up and soon he found himself engaging in easy conversation with you as you both searched the neighborhood for your dog. He felt light, like this was the simplest thing ever. Why was it so easy to be with you?
How long has it been since he was in the company of someone other than May? Someone who wasn’t from Midtown High who would awkwardly comment on how different he looked. Someone who wasn’t from the Bugle who would sneer at him every time he messed up because he was exhausted. How long has it been since he spent time with somebody who could get to know him the way normal people did?
He tried to shake off these thoughts. Who said anything about the two of you getting to know each other anyway? Peter looked back at you from the dark alleyway. You were on the opposite side of the street from him, hellbent on finding Sherlock. A happy bark echoed from his side of the street. The puppy he once could’ve scooped up with one arm was now thrice the size of what it used to be. Sherlock stopped to smell Peter. The dog barked once again, as if to say “Hi, I remember you!”, and then ran back to you before you could burst into tears of frustration.
For a minute or two, Peter stayed just to watch. You were so gentle with your pup, so genuinely concerned for its wellbeing that it struck something inside of him. With how long he’s been Spider-Man and how much he lost as a consequence of it, he often forgot that people like you still existed. He forgot that there were still good people in this world, people who would do the same thing he did if they were the ones bitten by a radioactive spider. People that would help a tourist get to their hotel safely, reunite a mother with their child or, like you, spend the rest of the night looking for their dog in the freezing cold.
Peter tried to leave as soon as he could because there was something about you he couldn’t quite figure out and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like not knowing what it was about you that rekindled a flame in him he thought he’d lost. You didn’t even get a chance to thank him properly. He shot one web after another and then it was back to work.
Your voice and Sherlock’s cheerful barks echoed after him, “Thank you, Spider-Man!”
He felt himself smiling underneath the mask. Even if it was just for that night, he felt like the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man again. For you, the walk home was peaceful, even with the ever-present noise of the city in the background, but you felt safe. Since that first meeting with the masked hero, you’d feel that someone was watching you every now and then… and you knew exactly who it was. It was always a blip of red and blue in your peripheral, but it was more than enough.
In February, you got laid off from your job. You’d seen it coming but that didn’t mean it still wasn’t a complete pain in the ass. You just turned up to work, got handed your box of stuff, and sent on your way. It all happened so fast. Next thing you knew, you were sitting in some dingy old bar, your box of stuff forgotten in the trunk of your car while you nursed your drink. Some guy took a seat a couple of stools away from you, huffing as he rested his head on the counter.
It took you a while to recognize him.
“Hey! We’ve met before… Peter, right?”
Peter sat upright then, an awkward smile adorning his face as he turned to you. He stopped himself from speaking right away. After all, you met him once. He met you twice, both as himself and Spider-Man. He had to keep that in mind.
“Oh, uh, yeah! From Central Park?”
You laughed, “Yeah. From Central Park.”
There it was again. The ease of the conversation. The natural flow of your back and forth banter. He couldn’t tell if it was just you or his heart finally giving in after years of self-isolation that brought about this sense of calm, but he was grateful for it all the same. You told him about what just happened earlier that day and… something pushed Peter to just take one more step into the deep end.
“You could come work at the Bugle,” he blurted out. Fuck. You’re so stupid, Peter.
“What? The Daily Bugle? The newspaper?” you repeated in disbelief, all of your attention now on him as you shifted in your seat. It was overwhelming. Why was it so overwhelming? This was only the third time he’s talked to you!
Maybe it was liquid courage, but he found himself nodding and just going down the rabbit hole of trying to convince you to apply, “I mean, you’ve been at that company for how many years? And I heard they don’t just hire anyone, too. If anyone could land a spot at the Bugle, it’s you,”—he grinned and put on an accent—”mi amigo.”
You stared at him, perplexed. Then, a smile. You were his friend.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he smiled back, trying to hold back the hope blooming in his chest. “I guess… I’ll be seeing you again soon?”
You wasted no time writing down your number on a piece of tissue and sliding it over to him, “You bet, Parker.”
In the safety of his one-bedroom apartment, Peter smiled at the messy line of numbers you scrawled on the two-ply tissue. He called you the day after, eagerly telling you abut what life at the Bugle was like. In true Spidey fashion, he was honest about it. His horror stories of his boss didn’t seem to faze you at all. In fact, it only made you more determined to apply and prove yourself. He admired that.
One call became two, and two became three. And one after that… and another after that. That wasn’t counting the daily texting that ensued in between. Peter found himself looking forward to your texts in the morning, when he finally fixed his sleep schedule just enough to wake up before his alarm started blaring. By the time you were officially an employee of the Daily Bugle, he couldn’t contain his excitement.
It was exhilirating to not be alone anymore. It was even better when he realized your cubicle was just right next to his. Peter made it his mission to ensure your work experience was a fun and pleasant one. It was so unequivocally him to do something like that. Each gesture started out small: he decorated your desk with two succulents when you started out. After a while, he would leave candy on top of your paperwork while you went to the bathroom. He always denied this. Then there were the sticky notes.
Peter didn’t come to work regularly, he was juggling two other freelance jobs most of the time but he always, without fail, managed to leave a sticky note on your computer if he wasn’t going to be around the next day. Like his other acts of kindness, these started small too. Imagining him hunched over a desk and writing these notes just for you made you more flustered than you could even begin to admit.
“Don’t forget to eat!”
“You’re doing such a good job :)”
“YOU’RE SO AWESOME!!! >:D”
But your favorite, favorite one, the one you kept safe in your phone case, was the note he left when you finished some of his paperwork for him. The two of you never spoke about the notes he left, both too scared to ruin the comfortable dynamic you’ve created. The very next morning, that familiar bright yellow poked out from in between the stacks of paper on your desk. You remembered the warmth you felt as you read his words. Something about his handwriting only intensified that.
“My hero :D Tell me how to make it up to you, you beautiful human being,” followed by a doodle of you in a Spider-Man costume.
One day, when he’s ready, maybe Peter would tell you how you saved a life just because you finished his work for him. In your own act of kindness, you allowed him to start his patrol earlier and save a teenage girl from getting mugged, or worse. When you invited him over to your house that weekend and saw the angry bruise on on his cheekbone, he let you tend to the cuts that were littered all over his body. He let himself bask in your gentleness and care and sweetness and everything that made you, you. You asked him if he got attacked. He shook his head and ignored the sting of the hydrogen peroxide.
“I fell into some bushes while hiking. Turns out it had thorns,” he lied. Lying to you didn’t feel great.
Instead of prying any further, you laughed and told him to be more careful. He could’ve sworn the room felt brighter then.
In June, May came over to his apartment to drop off some good homemade food; something she was sure he had gone far too long without, since his culinary taste consisted solely of instant noodles and microwaveable meals. The TV hummed in the background as the older woman made some small talk with her nephew. The realization that he was no longer a little boy dawned on her. It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened, but it was a hard pill to swallow. May saw how tired and beaten down he was, especially after Gwen’s death, and it wasn’t until recently that she noticed a change in the young man. The stubble he always forgot to shave was nowhere to be seen, his unkempt hair finally trimmed into a manageable shape, and his eyes were brighter. He was still tired, but he was happy. For a brief moment, she saw the little boy she used to bathe and sing to before bed.
Peter was too busy munching on the chicken casserole she prepared to see his aunt smiling at him. Finally, she decided to speak up.
“Who is it, Peter?”
He looked up, not expecting the question, “Who’s what?”
“Who’s making you happy?”
Peter thought about it for a while, not sure if the answer he’ll give was actually the right one to describe what had transpired these last few months, “I made a friend, I guess. They’re really nice and uh… they just started working for the Bugle. So. I see them more often.”
May nodded, a content smile on her face as she processed the information. A coworker. A friend.
“Tell me about them, they seem nice.”
Peter hesitated for a second, only to be reminded of your face and your bad jokes and your dog. Nice was an understatement. You were amazing.
“They are. Nice, I mean. We just sort of ran into each other at Central Park and then I saw them again a couple of months later and I recognized them. They’re… they make me feel comfortable. Appreciated, you know? I haven’t had somebody to talk to like this since—” he stopped.
Since.
Since Gwen.
In the time Peter’s known you, not once did he think about her. Then that horrible sinking feeling in his gut came. Years of falling and learning how to get back up went down the drain because he was reminded once again of what he lost. His thoughts were running a thousand miles a minute, all of them connecting back to that one fact that he was sure would haunt him forever: Gwen Stacy was dead and she would stay dead and Peter couldn’t do anything about that, no matter how much he wished he could. Somewhere, deep down, a part of him never really grew up. How could he? What gave him the right to live the life he wanted when she couldn’t live hers because he couldn’t catch her?
Then you came into his life and pulled him out of his self-imposed exile. All at once, it was you flooding his senses and you weren’t even there. This was wrong. This was all wrong.
May could only watch her nephew go through a whole lifetime’s worth of pain all over again. In a flash, he was gone. May Parker was alone.
He didn’t know where he was going, but he had to leave his apartment. He couldn’t bear to let May see him like that again. He couldn’t… It felt too much like the first time. It felt too much like losing his uncle and his girlfriend. He didn’t want to relive it. New York’s skies were painted pink and orange as the sun began to set, but all he could think about was getting away. His feet simply walked and walked and walked, his mind in a haze until finally, finally, he stopped at the headstone that haunted him for so long.
Gwendolyne Maxine Stacy
Beloved daughter and friend
March 2, 1996 - July 2014
A breath he didn’t know he was holding in escaped him. It had been nearly a decade since she died. She would’ve been twenty-seven. The air felt colder somehow, but Peter, even with his scientific mind, wanted to believe that she was there with him in that moment. He wanted to believe that Gwen Stacy never truly left. It was true, in a way. It was Peter that kept her alive, even if it was only in memory.
“Gwen, help me out,” he whispered. “Help me out, please. I can’t… I can’t do this anymore.”
He struggled to keep his composure.
“I met someone, Gwen. It was an accident. Their dog was all over the place and for some reason, he chose me. Gave me his ball to throw. And then they came along and GOD! They’re just— They’ve been nothing but kind to me, but I just can’t… I can’t do that to you. Never to you. And I know what you would say and how I’m an idiot but,” his voice wavered. “How can I ever look at anybody else the way I looked at you?”
Soft footsteps came from behind him.
“You can’t, sweetheart,” May placed her hand on his shoulder. “You can’t look at anybody that way you did Gwen. What you had with her was special. It was you and her, but that doesn’t mean you can’t start something new. Something entirely different and just as special. You know this is what she would’ve wanted for you, why would you deny her that, Peter?”
The dam broke.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”
May held him tight. She didn’t know how long she stayed there in the cold with Peter, but the moment that little boy was left on her doorstep, she knew she would do anything for him. No longer was he little, but he was her boy, and he always will be. If she had to rub circles on his back for as long as he needed to pour his heart out to the world, she would do it. So she did.
You didn’t hear from Peter for the next few days. He always managed to evade you at work and when you did see him, he avoided your gaze and left as soon as he could instead of hanging around to chat about random stuff like he always did. You would be lying if you said it didn’t hurt. Peter was probably your first true friend in this city. He looked out for you in ways nobody ever bothered to, even people you’ve known your whole life. Peter Parker was your friend and you were determined to get to the heart of the problem and fix it.
Miraculously, you caught him just as he was about to leave the lobby. Hearing his name from your lips stopped him in his tracks, so he turned around to face you. You knew what he was going to say. It was going to be another excuse to leave and not talk to you.
“Oh, hey!” he greeted lamely. “Look, I can’t stay around for too long, I have to—”
“Cut the shit, Parker,” you hissed. If it came out harsher than you intended, you didn’t care. You deserved to know whatever it was that made him start avoiding you like the plague. “What’s going on with you? And don’t tell me it’s nothing, because it’s definitely something!”
He was caught. With nothing else up his sleeves, he pleaded quietly, “Not here. I’ll tell you, I promise, I just… Not here.”
A couple of hours later, you were face to face with his door. You hesitated to knock and as if on cue, Peter opened the door with a tired smile. His hair was damp and he was dressed in a shirt much too large for him and plaid sweatpants. He smelled of cheap bar soap and mint toothpaste. For a moment, all you could feel was him. It took all of your strength to push that thought to the back of your mind. There was a more important matter at hand, and that was figuring out what was bothering your friend.
He ushered you inside and you both awkwardly next to each other on his worn out couch. The broken leather pricked your legs every now and then through the old bedsheet Peter covered the couch with. All the confidence you mustered up throughout the day to confront him was lost now. You fiddled anxiously with the strings of a throw pillow, avoiding Peter’s gaze.
He broke the silence, “I’m sorry. I haven’t been myself recently but… what I did to you this week was wrong. Sorry. Again.”
You sighed. This wasn’t easy at all. The words came out before you could think, “I know. I just wish you would tell me. I think I deserve to at least know why you’ve been acting this way.”
Your heart thrummed in both anticipation and fear. Peter, with his enhanced everything, could hear it. That’s when he took in the sight before him. You were so gorgeous; an angel on Earth in his eyes. You, so beautiful in ways he didn’t think was possible, sat in his living room because you were concerned. May’s words of wisdom echoed in his mind. She was right. What he had with Gwen was special, she was his first love, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t form something new. It took all this time to realize he wanted to build that with you. Your eyes told him everything you didn’t say out loud. You cared. You cared, you cared, you cared. He loved you.
Peter Parker loved you. He just had to figure out a way to say it.
He was sure he looked weird in that moment. You stared at him so intensely, trying to figure out the enigma that was his emotions. His hands found yours and the first thing you could think was how warm they were. He squeezed, as if trying to reassure himself that you were real and that this was happening.
“I lost someone. She… she was my girlfriend,” he began shakily, trying to find the right words to describe the massive lump of something in his chest. “Her name was Gwen. We met in high school. All these years, I’ve tried to hold on to her. You know, to keep her alive in some way. It wasn’t until recently that I realized that maybe I was doing more harm than good.”
There it was. It was all out in the open now, bits and pieces of his heart sprawled out across the floor as he waited for your reaction. Thousands of scenarios ran through his head, all of them ending in you leaving him alone. Each version of you in his mind reflected the guilt he bottled up for nearly a decade, screaming at him and cursing him for the things he’s done and the things he couldn’t do. Then he felt your arms wrap around him. He didn’t even realize he was already crying.
“Peter Parker, you are a good person. I might not know the full story, but if she loved you as much as you loved her, then I know for a fact that she would want you to be happy. You deserve that. She deserves that.”
You prepared yourself for his protest; for him to rebut everything you just said. You hoped you said the right thing but nothing could’ve prepared you for what he said next.
“If you keep saying things like that, I’ll fall in love with you even more.”
It was so quiet, just a little above a hushed whisper that you could almost fool yourself into thinking he didn’t say it if it wasn’t for that fact that his hold on you got tighter. He must’ve seen the confusion on your face because he spoke again, “I hated myself for falling in love with you because I thought it was a disrespect to Gwen’s memory. I wish I couId say I didn’t see it coming. I always knew I would love you. I just didn’t want to see it.”
For a few moments, the two of you just stayed there, his confession lingering in the air you breathed. It might be a trick of the mind, but you knew it was sweet. Peter pulled away; too kind, too selfless, too afraid to consider the possibility that you might just feel the same.
“Peter—”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Peter—”
“—ruin everything we had, I just couldn’t—”
“Peter!”
He gulped, clearly not expecting you to stop him from rambling. In his mind, you deserved an apology. In yours, you deserved a chance to speak.
“Peter,” you spoke softly, trying to reassure him that you weren’t offended in any way. “Have you ever once considered that maybe I like you too?”
Ever since he got bitten by that spider, Peter learned to tune out the stimuli in his environment. It used to bother him so much; hearing and smelling and feeling everything all at once got overwhelming. Now, when all his senses pointed back to you, he finds he doesn’t mind at all. In that moment, he was so sure he’d die a happy man if your face was the last thing he ever saw. It took him a while to respond to your own confession, too wrapped in all of you to think clearly.
He asked you if you were sure. You said yes. He asked you again. You kissed him.
The feeling of your lips on his both grounded him and blew him away. Somewhere in between that make-out session, his hands found yours. He decided this felt right. Maybe Peter will never fully overcome his own insecurities, and there was a lot of them. He was worried he was too tired, too beaten-down for you… and that didn’t even begin to describe the fear he felt knowing that you would have to find out about Spider-Man at some point. Again, he was reminded of your friendship and your kindness. You had given it to him so freely. He just needed to take another leap of faith and learn to trust himself as much as you did.
When November came, Peter didn’t find the air so chilly anymore. Not with you around.
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