#fwb!harry

[1800titz]

HI FRIENDS. WOOOOOOOOOOO. Camprry. Aimed for 5K or less and managed to get wordy again. Reader insert and basically pure smut. This one was supposed to be vanilla with some praise kink (and exhibitionism if you SQUINT since it’s in a tent) but….. hahahahaha….. WEEEELLLLLLL.

CONTENT WARNINGS: oral sex, face fucking, exhibitionism-ish if you squint, choking-ish if you squint, light dom/sub, praise kink, daddy kink, intercourse

WC: 7.5K (whoops)

There is nothing remotely sexy about a camping trip. 

In fact, Y/N thinks that if she were to deduce a list of words upon first thought when it came to camping, sexy would be the furthest one from qualifying. 

There’s nothing sexy about reverting to caveman-ism, sleeping on the ground, sheathed by some paper-thin layer of nylon and polyester and plastic support beams. There’s nothing sexy about pit stains from the lack of air conditioning or its antithetical twin sister, the bumps that rise over chilly skin and trembling bones without the luxury of an electric heater. There’s nothing innately erotic about kindling fire like electricity doesn’t exist, and cooking hot dogs on skewers over the flame, and perpetually swatting at insects that incessantly stick to shins and calves like the flesh there is coated in sugar. 

There is something sexy, though, when it comes to the way Harry’s arms work as he pitches a tent, bi’s and tri’s intermingling in an alluring duet, pumping and settling with each motion. The sleeves of his tee ride up when he raises the limbs, and sunlight catches shadow in ridge and sinew of muscle. There’s something sexy in the way his back ripples, in the way that thin fabric does nothing to cover what she imagines — no, what she’s well aware lies underneath. The same traps and lats she’s scraped her nails over and dug into. The same shoulders she’s sunk her teeth into to bridle cries of bliss. 

There’s something hot about the cinch in his brow when he works, something alluring in the curl at the plush of his mouth when he turns his head and beams lopsidedly at something that their friend has said, too low for Y/N to catch. There’s something sexy in the way that his eyes skim her frame when she’s sitting in a fold-out chair with sunglasses. When his eyes glide over his shoulder. It’s in the most subtle way. There’s something sexy in the way he tears that gaze away. 

There’s something sexy in the way that no one around them knows she spends nights bouncing on his cock. 

This lustrous affair — this sneaky fling. This filthy, dirty secret that only the two of them share, slinking and sidling through the shadows. 

Really, it’s nothing more than a raunchy circumstance of friends-with-benefits, only kept on the down-low to evade prying questions from friends and the sickly confrontation of …feelings. Because it’d be easy to admit they’re fucking, that they’ve been hooking up for months after an impromptu, late night of drinking. But then it’s sort of cementing, right? At least, in a way. 

There’s a status that floats about when you confess you’re sleeping with somebody — when you admit that you’ve entangled them into your routine beyond one mishap of sex. In the eyes of your friends, admitting that you’ve upkept a sex buddy through the roll of the seasons is, like. Well, it’s basically admitting some form of something sentimental. 

They’re just fucking. They’re just friends that fuck. And the way that nobody around them has any sort of suspicion that he’ll most likely be slipping into her tent in the midst of the night for that... 

That’s sexy, the young woman thinks. 

They’re coiled around the campfire once the sun has ducked out and simmered off behind the trees, and Y/N thinks about it. She watches the shape of his features glow beyond the crackle of the flame, and she thinks about the way his nose bumps over her clit when he licks into her. She watches his mouth move when he talks, a muted strawberry that’s dimmed in the night, and she thinks about the cushion of it pressing open-mouthed kisses to her flesh. She’s in his sweatshirt, because she had to borrow one, and it smells like him. She’s coated in it — his scent. Warm, pleasant musk and remnants of tantalizing cologne. It reminds her of the way the same sweatshirt had been discarded and draped over the foot of her bed haphazardly one night, as he kneed his way onto the mattress and clambered over her, fingertips exploring and tongue trailing. It reminds her of the way he smells when he brushes past her in the company of others, just solid weight and warmth. He does it nonchalantly, but the green of his eyes is knowing and flirtatious. That’s when the same scent teases her senses. It reminds her of the way he smells when he’s up close and personal, when he’s rocking against her and groaning softly into the nook between her shoulder and her neck. 

She stares at his hands — the way they lay over the armrests of his fold-out, the way lengthy digits adorned with chunky rings cradle a can of beer. She imagines the same fingers wrapped over her throat, squeezing lightly, in that way that he does. 

Y/N isn’t panting into the chill of the air. The white of her exhales just surface …quicker. His hands, and his smell, and his mouth are entirely irrelevant to the matter. 

By the time they all retire to their respective tents, the young woman is pleased to get a breather from his hands and his …ludicrously plush, smiley mouth. At least in a public circumstance, so she can’t be caught fawning over his mannerisms from a distance. The smell …she can’t escape that. In all honesty, it should be shameful, basking in the scent of a sweatshirt. Instead, she coils up in it under the covers.

She’s turned on her side with gritty rock coursing through wire, chords of guitar and drums rippling out from the little speakers in her ears, entirely engrossed as she scrolls through what little apps can manage access without a durable station of wifi. 

Y/N nearly squeals when an arm slinks over her chest, when a palm nudges over her mouth. And then another hand is plucking at one of the earbuds, giving her leeway into the crinkle of the sleeping bag, crickets, and the sound of bated breaths behind her. 

A low baritone, hushed and teasing against the same ear where the earbud’s been removed, “Easy, baby.” 

The gentle murmur that his lips shape does, frankly, little to soothe the hammer of her heart. In fact, if anything, the muscle soars in pace behind bone with the way cushiony pink grazes her jaw, the way his warm weight presses up behind her. 

“Easy.” 

She’d sit up and turn over her shoulder if she had the opportunity, but the same inky, muscly arm she’d admired hours earlier cradles over, preventing the motion. Harry can tell too, evidently, based on his soft snicker. He’s pleased from the way her head juts to steal a peer back. He’s pleased when she doesn’t succeed.

Instead of letting up, he takes the same earbud he’d pulled out and presses it into his own ear so that they’re sharing the set, crooning, “What are you listening to? Hm?” 

He sponges another kiss to the side of her throat, a stray tendril flopping over his forehead. Y/N knows that he’s listening to it, too, then. She knows from the playful, little nudge of his head with the rhythm, from the way the cord of the earbuds grows taut, from the sound of mirth he muzzles to her skin when he drives his mouth over the side of her neck. The young woman wriggles her arm, just enough for his grip to loosen, and then uses the opportunity to raise her head to take her own earbud out. The motion jostles Harry from the nook he’s seemingly made homage in, and he nips at her earlobe in protest. Anyways, the whole thing sends a chill wracking down her shoulders. 

When he lets up, Y/N twists in his grasp to her back. The earbuds splay over her chest, his own discarded, too. There’s still music seeping softly. She blinks, gaze tracing over his features, basked in shadow and soft amusement. 

“Hey,” she croaks, her voice catching on a crack with the effort to keep quiet. 

And Harry drags a thumb down her stomach, fingers meddling where the fabric of her (no, his) hoodie has rucked up. The ticklish sensation makes her shift a little. His mouth quirks, and he smooths over the same spot again. 

“Hey, you.” 

Her lips part and her tummy jolts when he slips the chilly pad of his thumb back over the line he’d run for a third time. She wants to bring her own hand up and trace the contours of his cocky mouth with her fingertips. It shapes the words, like baritone bathed in honey, “Ticklish?” 

When he brushes over a fourth time, her arm twitches, and her hand shoots for his wrist, squeezing lightly. Corners of muted pink spring up, dimples scoring softly. 

“Yes,” she gripes in a whisper, but the gripe doesn’t come out very gripey at all. Instead, it’s sort of small — that’s on account of his warm weight shifting onto her. Which is a new development, and it’s one that stirs something familiar and warm below the sleeping bag she’s nestled into, half-zipped and mostly just thrown over. 

His sturdy thigh slips in the empty gap between her own, and Harry ducks his head, the dimples deepening and the glint of white teeth escaping through the part of his lips. And then he dips lower until his face is nearly tucked into her hair. 

“I missed you,” his admission is soft-spoken. It’d be sort of tender if it didn’t come out so …hungry. 

Y/N takes in a little, shuddery breath. The same hand that's settled over her hipbone comes up to brush hair away from her throat, and a mouth stipples kisses over her pulse. His voice is a raspy, desirous tease, “Did you miss me?” 

Christ. She thinks that maybe if he were telepathic and had even a brief glimpse into the filthy things that’d cycled behind her skull for the duration of the day, then he’d only be more smug. 

That’s dangerous. 

She’s glad he isn’t. 

The young woman hums — an apathetic sound that feigns contemplation, like his touch doesn’t light every nerve ending in her system on fire, like she hasn’t spent hours staring at his arms, his mouth, his hands. Like she hasn’t been picturing expanses of muscle and skin hidden under his tee, imagining her tongue tracing through the vales of his v-line and her fingertips following the trail of hair below his belly button, slipping lower and lower…

“No?” Harry murmurs, lips bumping wetly over her flesh. What follows is a gentle exhale, and then his mouth is sponging another open-mouthed kiss, and his tongue brushes warmth against her, like he’s petting with it over her pulse. He caresses all the way back to her ear. Something dirty and thrilling slinks down the knobs of her spine when he mumbles, unconvinced, “I think you’re lying to me, little miss.” 

Her breath stutters. 

“I think,” Harry muses, fingers dipping beneath the shroud of the sleeping bag and smoothing back over her waist testingly, “that if I had a look right now, you’d be a drippy mess.”

Her throat bobs on a swallow. Petulantly, and so obviously feigning, Y/N tips her chin back and tells him, “…Not at all.”

Instead of smoothing tips of digits back over the naked, little expanse of skin again, they venture lower, teasing at the waistband of her sleep shorts. “I think your sweet, little pussy would tell me otherwise, wouldn’t it, pet?” 

Another deep breath rolls her chest under the cushioned sheet of fabric when fingertips dwell in. Just centimeters, practically. They retreat. Harry presses another kiss just below her ear. 

“Hm? It’s been so empty all day long. Achy, I bet.” Chills rise awake all over when he murmurs, purely condescending pity painting every syllable, “Poor baby.” 

He’s always had it — this gift of filthy, dirty gab. This ability to render her craving and wanting with his words like it’s innate, practically. She shouldn’t be surprised when he shifts over her, just enough for her to feel how hard he is, tips of his curls tickling at her cheek, “Could stuff it full. Make it all better.” 

Y/N sighs. Finally. Like it’s a release of the whole act, and the seams of it come apart to bliss when he nips with his teeth. She cranes her neck to give him more room to work. 

“Would you like that?” 

And she would, she thinks. Very, very much, and his lingering fingers — when they pull out and he hooks a thumb in and just tugs down a smidge — remind her of how hot she suddenly is. How hot everything is, despite the chill in the air. Instead of answering, the young woman nudges with her chin — a nod. An unsatisfactory one, evidently. 

“Words,” Harry mutters. It’s gentle, and quiet, and she hopes the polar opposite of the way he’s going to fuck her.

She cranes her neck more and splays her thighs what little she can under his weight. It’s kind of a plea. It’s also sort of pathetic. “Yes.” 

But it makes his mouth crook. His palm draws away. No. That wasn’t the intended effect. She curbs her sound of protest, but he can tell that it’s bridled in the chamber — she knows because the curl of mirth grows wider. He sits up a bit, bracing on his arms until he hovers over her, and then he sighs, jade sliding to the sector of the bag that’s zipped. Slowly, like he’s teasing, he grips over the notch and tugs. 

“What d’you do if you want me to stop?” Harry beckons, nearly a whisper but not quite, fingers skimming up under his hoodie. The same hoodie clings to her flesh, and every nerve sparks alive at the touch, striking her lungs to expand heavier. The air catches when the pads of his fingers graze up the vale of her sides and siphon a flinch. 

“Teacup,” Y/N breathes the safeword in response, and the fingertips climb her ribs like a staircase, pleased. 

“Good girl,” He tells her, and the pads sink back over, bumping over the ridges, and he tugs the fabric up over her chest. 

Her bra is red. It’s a nice detail, all lacy cupped over her chest. He draws the tip of an index over the edge and says, “Cheeky,” like his comment isn’t, “…Did you wear this to get fucked?” 

The young woman gnaws at her lip. Innately, it’s not an accurate statement. She didn’t wear it to get fucked — not when she knew he’d be slipping into her tent in the midst of the night and fucking into her regardless of the state of her underthings. But it’s a nice touch when he ducks, palm squeezing over one of her tits, and tacks on all low against her ear, like it’s praise, “Because you know I love you in red, pet.” 

The satisfaction of pleasing him buds in her chest, right at the core of her ribcage, warmth pitted deep, and it slinks out like beams of gooey sunshine, winding and seeping through the cavity until her veins practically thrum yellow. She’s buzzing beneath him, pulse thumping and fibers of muscle twitching. It makes his mouth curve — the way he feels her trembling under him like she’s a taut string, and he traces a thumb over her mouth. 

Then jade flits to her chest, and Harry takes the thumb away to hook fingers under the cups and tug. They settle under her tits, perking them, and the way the wire settles over her ribcage isn’t particularly comfortable, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when he shimmies down her body and draws a stripe down with his tongue, all the way from the hollow of her throat to the edge of the bra, settling in between. He kisses down her stomach, green salacious and twinkling up through shadow at her, and his tongue draws a circle around her belly button. His mouth quirks there, too, because it makes her flinch. Because he knew it would. Harry brushes with wet taste buds lower, settles on a side, low on her tummy, and sucks a pressing kiss. Her whole spine wrings and writhes, arching when he pairs the sensation with a dull graze of his hand over a nipple. It’s barely anything, but it’s a touch she longs for. And she doesn’t know why, but it always lights her on fire when the pleasure entwines with something that makes her want to squirm out of her own skin.  

Because when he turns the graze into a pinch and a roll, when he hones on the drag of his tongue and the suckling of his mouth, when he skirts featherlight fingertips up her side like he’s plucking invisible strings, the yellow thrums red, and hot, and hungry. When his mouth lets up and he drags wet lips to curl over the opposite nipple and the featherlight turns more purposeful, squeezing at sensitive flesh, this knocked-out unph escapes her, like a bridled grunt he’s punched from her. Like a half-laugh, like a moan, like a mottled gasp, like discomfort and please-don’t-stop enmeshed, curbed out of desperation. It makes the red fucking neon. 

Harry withdraws with a pop from the bud, and the air bites onto the wet to replace his mouth. The ambiance of rickets and cold reminds her that they’re kind of, sort of, definitely in public, only really shielded from said public (and the intrusive presence of their friend group) by thin sheets of nylon erected with plastic poles. Her eyes say it all then — this hesitation sparking, lashes bouncing and bounding from the nervous shift of her pupils, working from his eyes to his plush mouth and back as he rises to settle over her more. 

“They’re asleep,” he promises, a hushed murmur he seals to her own mouth in a sloppy half-kiss. His top lip ghosts over her cupid's bow, and he smooths a hand back over the vale of her waist where he’d squeezed a second ago. Her chest rolls under him, and her mouth parts, just a little to let a mottled little sound escape, like a wheezing gasp she’s muffled. 

And he muffles it more with his own lips, pressing against her. The sleeping bag rustles, and it’s quiet beyond the stilted sheets barring the wilderness. Harry’s hand skims down. 

“Where do you want me to touch you?” Harry murmurs into her mouth, palm trailing until it stills at the waistband of her shorts, fingertip lingering over an expanse of skin below her belly button that he’s well aware will have her squirming. Y/N jerks. “Here? Or… maybe…”

The young woman practically does a squished, weighted version of a body roll beneath him when he moves his hand to her inner thigh, dragging the pad of his index over the sensitive skin higher up. “Maybe …here? …No, I don’t think so…” 

His tongue licks into her mouth when she opens wider for him, desperate for the taste of him on her tongue, and she nearly gasps over that same tongue — loudly — when his palm cups unceremoniously between her legs. “…I think you want me here. That’s about right, isn’t it?” 

Y/N makes a little noise — it’s something between desperation and wordless agreement, and it quirks the corners of Harry’s mouth, carving dimples in beside his smug beam. The hand withdraws so suddenly she wants to melt into the hungry soil. 

“Yeah, that’s it, sweet thing,” he declares, voice hushed, a bass-deep admission soft-spoken and colored with teasing.

Instead, he presses up until he’s hovering over her and then knees his way back, and then his fingers tuck up under the waistband of her shorts. When he discards them into the beginnings of a pile of clothing beside them, coaxing her hips to rise up enough with a soft word, blood teems into her cheekbones, like it’s all new and foreign. 

It’s not. 

It’s the most comforting and familiar when he traces a fingertip over the cleft at the crotch of her panties, the most familiar when he shimmies his fingertips under the sides of the fabric at her hips and tugs those off, too. It’s familiar when he holds a leg up, fingers gentle at her calf, and sponges kisses up her leg from her ankle to her inner thigh. It’s familiar when his tongue dances over hot, slick, flesh in craving, when it rolls around her clit and circles back. When he’s amused by the proof that he was right, that she is soaked, and his ego inflates like a hot air balloon. It’s familiar in the draw of his tongue, in the brush of his lips, in the way his fingers brush over her thighs, over her hole, over the sensitive areas in between. It’s familiar in the way that she watches stars speckle in the darkness behind her clenched eyelids, in the way that Harry doesn’t let up even as she pants and wrings her own fingers into his curls. In the way that he only responds with a moan against her at the rough treatment of his scalp.  

It’s somewhere between heaven and hell, teetering on the wire, when he laps over her pulsing cunt. His irises flicker up when she shudders, when Y/N makes a futile attempt to clasp her thighs over his head and prevent the light drag of his tongue over her oversensitive button. Instead, he tucks a palm against one of her legs and holds it down, plush lips curling around an ‘o’ and sucking. Every muscle seizes, her fingers twitching and struggling to curl into the thinly stuffed fabric of the sleeping bag. She bridles a whole-body thrash, neck straining as her breath stutters. 

“Please— plea— it’s too much—“ Y/N swallows midway her begging to avoid choking on her own spit, and that’s cute, Harry thinks. 

Aw, Y/N thinks he’d coo up at her from between her thighs, if his mouth wasn’t occupied at her core, those are pretty words. They don’t sound like a safeword, though. 

He doesn’t say that, though. He doesn’t say anything, humming quietly over her clit (honestly, she can’t tell if it’s in protest or agreement) and rolling a slow circle over nerves that are spent and nearly raw post his caress. 

Her chest is still rolling when he clambers his way up onto her, kneeing around her sides and then coaxing her arms up into a stretch. Harry cages those with firm thighs at the roots of the limbs, kneeing his way higher until he’s hovering over her chest and admiring her, all pliant and worn out and obedient beneath him. He sniffs, head cocked and eyes glimmering, and then sighs when he tucks fingers into the waistband of his shorts. Her fingers twitch, outstretched above her. And he’s weightless, and steady, and careful over her, but despite that, filth from his tongue punches her breath out like he’s sat directly over her lungs.

“Gonna suck my cock, baby.” 

It’s not really a question — not in tone. It’s a coo, a declaration, insight before Harry digs his fingers further past elastic and discards two layers of fabric with one tug, and his cock bobs free, glistening with a bead of precum at the head. 

Y/N swipes out over her lips with her tongue, and the sheen of spit over pink nearly matches the glimmer on the pink of his tip. The man cradles his free hand over his base and tucks the waistband lower on his hips, just until it rests under his balls and a glimpse of inked laurels and milky expanses of a bare tan line are on show. Bracing himself with a hand planted on the ground, Harry leans over her and aims his shaft, daubing over the plush of her mouth. When her tongue peeks out to swipe over the silky skin, she thinks he’s going to chastise her for her lack of patience. He doesn’t. Instead, he ogles down at the motion like she’s a goddess, cracks in otherwise apathy morphing; a light crease between his brows, a twitch in his lips. The same lips part for a shuddery breath like he’s trying to reign in his composure. And with every drag of his head over her slippery, hungry taste buds, a slow, side-to-side swipe that seems to lose precision with each motion, those cracks in his control give more. His jaw sets and he takes a long breath in through flared nostrils, and then shifts the palm that’d settled on the ground to rest over her wrists. 

“M’gonna fuck your mouth,” Harry tells her, pupils scoping carefully from her lips to her own eyes in finality. “What do you do if you want me to stop?” 

Y/N blinks. Her fingers twitch. She bends the digits over his grip and squeezes, flexing and unflexing over his own fingers like code in a tempo of frenzy. His gaze doesn’t even flicker from the aim of his tip, and he draws it over her mouth like he’s in awe of the sight.

“Good girl.” 

The young woman takes in a breath, mouth parting over his head slightly, all doe-eyed. He smushes his cockhead to the open seam.

“Open up for me,” the soft croon is accompanied by the tilt of his head, and a stray curl dangles over his forehead when he swipes the tip over her lips, “Nice and wide. Show me that pretty tongue.” 

And it slinks from her mouth as if on mindless command. Harry smears his tip over it like a filthy greeting, and then he feeds his fat cock in, guiding it up until the point to where he’s able to shift his weight onto the hand that doesn’t coat her wrists, careful not to cause the confined joints any discomfort.

“That’s it,” his praise seeps out all breathy, barely over an awed whisper as he sinks in and her tongue flexes to encompass the drag towards her gag reflex, “That’s a good girl.” 

The pointed little end grazes over his balls. 

“Eyes up here, pretty thing,” Harry encourages, ducking his own chin. There’s something pretty in the dance of her lash line, in the way her pupils flit up to his shadowy face, the way her lips tuck over her teeth to cushion his shaft. The way her tongue stays stuck out, flexing under the welcomed intrusion, “…Wanna watch them get all teary.” 

It’s like she tries to appease him. It’s as if on instinct to his words, that her lashes flutter as she tries to peer up, the beginnings of a ready sheen glazing the pretty color there as her tongue twitches and her throat bobs in an attempted swallow.  

And Christ, does it feel good when she does that. 

Harry’s own neck cranes, the muscles there flexing and veins swelling there like little ropes pulled taut under his skin. He groans, and it makes her do it again. His brows are furrowed when he risks a glance down at the picture-perfect view, and his hips nudge forward a smidge, only for him to bask in the sight of her irises lolling back and her lashes batting. A hiss lips through gritted teeth like rain through a gutter, and his head cocks further as he smooths an index to rest over her palm. She doesn’t have her digits balled — not all the way — not until his forefinger rests in her reach. She squeezes over that, almost like it’s an anchor. Something grounding to tether her. 

“Shit,” he manages out, barely over a whisper to bite back a throaty groan, hips rolling and brows furrowed in pleasure, “Shit — you’re good. You’re so good—“

And it makes the twitch of her lashes melt into a flitting bat, the color there rolling back and hiding behind the flutter. She can’t exactly hum in acknowledgment, but Y/N makes this garbled sound around him — this desperate kind she’d only make with his shaft stuffed down her throat, and it’s loud. Too loud. He squeezes over her wrists with his thumb, hips slowing until he’s wedged in to the hilt, stilled with the tip of her nose pressed to the light dusting of his pubic hair.

And Y/N thinks she’s going to implode. She’s going to implode if she doesn’t suffocate over his cock first. 

“Shh, shh,” Harry wriggles the index she’s gripping until her touch loosens enough, and he’s able to stroke the tip over her palm, “Shh.” 

Her pupils flit up to him in this deliciously delirious way for air. Harry tips his head down, the shadow of another curl flopping over his forehead. His cock twitches. Y/N makes another sound over him, this one lower. More pleading. More distressed. Her lashes flutter, cheeks puffing. Just when she’s about to clench and unclench over his fingers, he pulls out. It’s nearly all the way, but not quite, and she wheezes oxygen into her deprived lungs, muffling a fit of coughing. When she turns her head to take in more air, his tip slips out and draws a wet streak of saliva from the corner of her mouth across her cheek. 

“So pretty,” Harry murmurs. His tone sounds distant, and absentminded, and awed, like her mouth is divine and his voice is sort of full of worship, “You take me so well.”

Y/N blinks up at him, lips swollen post his ministrations and parted, slick with spit. Harry adjusts his grip, balancing his weight, and curls his lengthy digits over the base of his cock, aiming it back to that pretty, pretty mouth. 

Her jaw practically unhinges at the implication, tongue sticking out to daub at his cockhead when he croons, “And you’ll take a little more for me, sweetheart. Won’t you?” 

The sultry plush of his mouth curls up, all smug like when the tip of her tongue prods at his head, and then he feeds himself back into the warmth of her mouth. 

“Yeah,” Harry grunts, hips rolling slow and cautious as he guides himself in, “Yeah, you will.” 

He settles back into a pace of shallow, jutting thrusts, slow, and calculated, and testing. But then those melt and meld into something smoother, something deeper that brushes the back of her throat. Her fingers stretch wide and open and curl helplessly, never quite squeezing over his own digits, and Harry basks in the wet, pornographic sounds that envelop his shaft. Even as she tries to dim their volume, the sound of her sputtering around his cock isn’t something she can exactly mask when he brushes her gag reflex, again, and again. With every prod forward, every second she spends with her jaw wide open for him, that flame in her core kindles higher and higher. When he pulls out, jaw clenched and tummy flexing, ridges of his abs caught in the shadows, it’s like he pours kerosene. 

“Suck,” her friend tells her, soft-spoken as he nudges with his hips. His palm cradles his cock, fingers curled under the base. But her range of motion is limited, and Harry tips it up from her wanton, slick lips. Almost like it’s purposeful, because it definitely is.

A tentative tongue slips out to draw over his balls, and the way his front teeth lodge against the plush of his bottom lip, head cocked to indulge in the innocuous peer of her eyes beneath him — that’s a pretty sight she can make out even through the lack of light. She takes a million mental snapshots with her pupils, all of him in his all, curls dangling from the angle and the sharp line of his nose, his panting mouth as her tastebuds drag, sinew of muscle at his abdomen flexing, a rise and fall. The barest shape of the dark anchor etched into his wrist, his long, ring-clad fingers, the way they curl over his cock. The shape of it hovering over her face. 

A low groan squeezes past the door he’s made with his teeth, and then he says, “Yeah. There. Go on.” 

Her tongue morphs to her mouth, lips latching over lightly and sucking, just as he’d directed, and parting teases paste to him like doting kisses. Her lashline bounces as her eyes attempt to make his responses out through the rough angle and the dark that coats them. His head craned back there, his tummy rising and falling in pants there, his face tipped down over her to watch. The most insightful — and frankly, the most satisfying — are the sounds. 

The hisses of air he sucks in through his teeth, the way huffs fall out from between his open lips. They’re slow, and they come out like he’s trying to control them for the sake of the decibel, but they shake as they escape, and that’s a telltale. And then there’s the moans. 

There aren’t many of those to indulge in, but there’s a couple, one that Harry can’t seem to curb, despite his seemingly best efforts, when Y/N rolls her tongue over him all slow-like and comes off with a pop. And then another, later, that has him hanging his head when she stipples kisses to the sensitive skin there. 

“Christ, you’re gonna kill me.” 

The young woman hums, maybe in agreement or maybe goading, lashes batting innocently beneath him as she draws her lips over his sac aimlessly. 

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, and then he stifles and clams up like he’s contemplating. When her tongue drags over him again he seems to make a decision, tearing himself away and kneeing his way back until he’s hovering over her thighs, his cock bobbing and wet with spit, “Sit up. Take this off.” 

Do this, do that. A shudder climbs up the knobs of her spine, slithering its way up the bone as she basks in the dominating note plucking at his tone. The sweatshirt catches on her hair and tugs strands, but it’s frenzied, somehow fond, the way his hands rove up her sides and slip up her back, roaming over hot skin to toggle at the back of her bra.

Then it’s, “Roll over,” with the last of her clothing discarded into the darkness, somewhere beside them in the same, sloppy pile with her shorts and her underwear. “Gonna—“ she thinks he sheds his t-shirt then, imagines his muscles rippling and flexing as he pulls it off, over his head from the back, “—fuck you like I want your snug cunt wrapped around me forever.” 

And then go his shorts, judging by the way his weight dips and balances, the shuffling from behind as he kicks them off and they’re flung somewhere by his ankle. He presses up onto her, grappling her by the hip, all warm weight and everything brushing together. 

“You wanna bounce on my cock, baby?” Harry murmurs, pink lips grazing her temple. A curl tickles at her cheekbones when he ducks to skim his teeth over her earlobe, to ghost a breath of promise — of foreshadowing against her neck when he tells her, sultry low and smooth like honey, “Be a good girl and ask Daddy nicely. Maybe then I’ll let you.”  

Shit. Fucking Shit. That little word teems down her ears and hikes all the way down her nervous system and back up, lighting everything in her alive.  

Quietly, barely over a whisper, Y/N beckons, “Please.” And when Harry doesn’t immediately move, she licks out at her slips, swallows, and pleads, “Daddy. I need you. Need you inside.” 

In response, her friend cups a hand over a love handle and guides his cock to press against her. But he doesn’t breach. 

“Better, but not quite,” he sighs. There’s leaves rustling outside in the gentle breeze, but Y/N doesn’t hear anything besides the rush of blood in her ears when she begs more, and it doesn’t get any quieter when Harry rewards her by tucking himself inside and pumping forward, just about halfway. 

It’s a crying shame when he doesn’t make any motion to keep going. And then it’s quiet besides their panting breaths intermingling. Eventually, though, he does talk.

“Fuck yourself on it,” Harry instructs, cadence ludicrously controlled given that half of his cock is tucked into her. Y/N peers over her shoulder to catch glimpses of his furrowed brows — the rip in the stitch of semblance. She can only manage to see so much. He ducks his head and nips at the shell of her ear, coaxing tingles down her neck, her shoulders, all the way from her nape. “Go on. Don’t pretend to be shy about it.” 

Fucking fuck. How can she not be, she thinks, when he talks like that? 

There’s a heat that seeps over her the crest of her cheekbones where he can’t see, and she squeezes over him in response to the filth. Harry settles back up. From the corner of her eye, Y/N notes lines of muscle shaping his arms as he hovers over her. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she arches her hips up a tad and nudges back. It’s not enough — it’s maybe an inch, and she rocks forward by pressing her hips down and then repeats the motion. Just as there was a lack of control over her shame when he spewed dirty, brazen, filth, there’s also a lack of motion when she’s rolled forward with her tummy pressed to the ground. There’s only so much — so many inches she can ride back on when she’s rendered immobile. 

He knows it, too — it’s obvious by the poorly muffled note of mirth in his tone from behind, “Good girl. But you can do better than that, can’t you?” 

Helplessly, Y/N grits her teeth, fingers tangling into the fabric of her sleeping bag as she rolls her hips back in another attempt. It’s stuttery, and awkward, and not really a seamless, Shakira-esque roll at all. It’s a poor shuffle, hips raising more than traveling back. 

“Come on,” Harry goads, tutting like her tries are half-assed and she’s not currently exerting her body into creating motions that are simply unrealistic, “Take it proper. You want it? Then take it. Show me.” 

Camping is supposed to be wholesome. Camping is supposed to be laughter, and deep, pure breaths of air that scrub out the tainted glaze of city life from the walls of your lungs, sticky like cigarette smoke residue on the walls of a house. It’s hiking boots stuffed with the thickest socks. It’s marshmallows on twigs over curdling flames that lick up, it’s flashlights, and spooky myths and legends verbalized, and more laughter. 

Instead, Y/N is camping, and she’s currently barely grinding over inches of Harry’s cock. 

“I can’t,” she grits out, frustrated, but it sounds more like a whine than anything with bite.

“You can’t? Sure you can, pet,” Harry grapples over her hip, bracing on one arm in, honestly, an impressive showcase of athleticism, and manually rakes her hips back over him. It allows for more — more of him, more of his cock, more of his touch. More of him splitting her open and spreading her apart over him. “Just like this, right?” 

She’s sure he must be meeting her at least a quarter, if not halfway, though. It all feels like a devious ploy. Y/N whines. He makes this amused sound then, one of those puffs expelled through his nostrils like a half-laugh, accompanied by a hum. And then he pulls out and pumps his hips forward, until he’s flush to her backside, and then reverses and repeats. Three times. He gives her three, good, long, full thrusts, smoothing out to the tip and in to the root until she’s stuffed, just like he’d promised. Then, he presses in all the way and just basks in her heat. 

“Better?” Harry asks, but his tone catches on a quiet grunt and wavers in its prior composure. She squeezes over him, really squeezes, and he muffles a groan with the seal of his mouth. For a second, he doesn’t say anything at all, and then the filth spills again. It’s odd how patronizing he can sound, despite the way her cunt so obviously affects him, “Need Daddy to do all the work, is that it?” 

Y/N hums. There isn’t much she can say to disagree because it’s good. At some point, his slow rolls morph into sharp juts, and the brace of his arms bends and gives until his chest is flush to her back. 

“Please, please, please, please,” Y/N croaks out the mantra, muzzled by the smush of her cheek to the ground with the pressure of his hand palming at the side of her skull. 

“Shh,” Harry rocks forward, fingertips twitching into her roots like a meld of petting and admonishment. He rocks into her until he’s flush against her backside, splitting her over him to the hilt, “Shh …don’t need to beg, sweetheart. You can have it. Have it all.”

He’s warm weight over her, hard muscle like hot, sticky stone as he works into her from behind. He’s a welcome stretch, a pleasant burn, inches of bliss that her spongy walls cling to in a warm hug. He’s tips of curls brushing over her cheeks, filthy words in a murmur flush to the shell of her ear, little, repressed grunts and shuddery exhales as his hips rock. He’s a headlock that squeezes over her throat deliciously and keeps her neck craned back. It’s in this perfect way that almost has her gasping for breath. 

The young woman practically bites into her tongue to curb a nearly animalistic groan that climbs from the depths of her chest and squeezes out past her detained windpipe. She doesn’t need to try as hard when his opposite arm shimmies up over the poorly-cushioned sleeping bag, when his hand clamps against her mouth, palm smushing over her lips. Instead, her high whimper catches on his skin and muffles out. Her nostrils flare over his digits when Harry shushes and chastises through grunts. 

“I know, baby. I know. Need you to be — shit — a good, quiet girl for me, though.”

Her irises nearly loll back into her skull, fluttery for the ceiling of fabric in their sockets at the dominating tone of his cadence. 

“Gonna be good for me? Make me—“ his words taper off when he muzzles a groan with the seal of his own lips, and what comes out is hushed, and masculine, and obviously bridled. But it doesn’t make her as hungry as when he beckons, “—Make me pleased with you?”

Because she wants to please him, wants to be good, wants his digits to press harder over her tongue when he slinks them into her mouth. It’s not her fault when the motion siphons a whimper. So Harry does — press harder that is, an inclination for her lips to wrap over his fingers, his chin tucked over her shoulder. His mouth presses to her temple, gracing her with puffs of air through his nose as he rocks into her.

“There we go,” Harry coos, soft and barely over a whisper when her mouth seals over the intrusive digits, “There’s a good girl. Let’s keep those pretty sounds to ourselves.” 

He rocks into her until she’s whining into his hand, until they’re really slick with sweat, and he’s grazing at his own peak, working until it unravels him from the inside out. She’s still making hushed sounds against his palm when he groans all low into her hair and his motions melt into something stuttery, when he empties ribbon after ribbon as she clenches over him and milks him through it.

He’s probably going to rifle through the dark for some discarded fragment of fabric to clean the mess. It’ll be haphazard on account of the night, and she’ll still feel the sticky remnants, dried up at the peaks of her inner thighs in the morning. But it won’t really be gross. Sort of a sordid, morning-after keepsake, sort of a dirty thrill as they pack their stuff among the others in their cohort. Sort of, probably, an excuse to fuck later in the day when they have a moment alone to themselves, reminiscing on the night before. 

But before that, he’ll probably clean his mess and run a hand down the vale of her side in a praising caress, like he normally does. Probably lay next to her for a bit before sneaking off to his own tent because, even though they’re just friends that fuck, he’s never been weird about cuddling — aftercare is sort of a must. He’ll probably say goodnight with another searing kiss, the kind that burns deep inside, because every time he leaves is kerosene actively poured into the pit of a bonfire. Because every time he leaves, she wants him more.

Tomorrow they’ll still be friends. 

Just friends that fuck.

[goldengalore]

Rough Day

Summary: For Harry, nothing makes up for a bad day better than rough sex. Luckily, he has his friend Y/N to help out with that.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: smut (friends with benefits, mean dom!harry, degradation, bondage, spanking w hands and belt, choking, oral, anal, use of ball gag and butt plug)

***

Harry slams the door behind him as he enters Y/N’s apartment. He texted her earlier to ask if he could come over. His message alluded to the possibility of rough play, which Y/N could hardly ever refuse. As soon as he arrives, she can sense the irritability radiating off of him. It shouldn’t excite her this much���her friend being in a crappy mood—but it does.

“Hey,” she greets him, sitting up on the couch where she’s been indulging in some online shopping for the past hour.

He just hums in response and drops his duffle bag on the floor before removing his shoes, coat, and gloves.

“Rough day?” she asks, studying him.

“You have no idea,” he mutters.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

Of course he doesn’t. Harry doesn’t like to talk at the end of a bad day. He likes to fuck. Without holding back.

Glancing at her, he says, “Wait there.” Then he picks up his bag and heads into her bedroom. A minute later, he emerges from the room without the bag and strides over to her.

“Up,” he says, as if he were instructing a dog.

“Okay.” She sighs and takes her time getting off the couch to avoid seeming too eager, even though on the inside, she’s ready to do just about anything he tells her.

Once she’s on her feet, he simply says, “Clothes off.”

Again, she dawdles while pulling her sweatshirt off and fumbles with the waistband of her shorts, lazily inching them down her legs. Harry releases an impatient sigh.

“Today, Y/N.”

“Okay, okay!” She quickly removes the rest of her clothes.

The path his eyes take as they trail down her bare body sends the blood rushing between her legs. He steps closer and places his mouth over hers. His hands rest on her hips for a mere second before sliding to her backside. He squeezes it firmly, his fingers digging into the flesh of her round cheeks and pulling her body upward. She rises up on her toes and clutches his shoulders for balance. His teeth bite into her bottom lip. He tugs her even closer until her naked body is flush against his clothed one.

The kiss ends abruptly, leaving her wanting more. All of a sudden, he lifts her off the ground and slings her over his shoulder like she weighs nothing at all. Her upper body hangs behind him, her ass in the air.

“What are you—?” she starts, but he lands a swift smack to her rear, ordering her to be quiet.

He carries her to the bedroom and tosses her on the bed, not bothering with gentleness, then flips her onto her stomach. While she finds her bearings, he bends down to grab something from his bag, which is sitting on the floor next to the bed.

A moment later, her wrists are pulled behind her back and cuffed together. His hands wrap around her ankles and yank her towards him until she’s bent over the edge of the bed with her feet on the floor. She hears the clink of his belt buckle behind her.

It all happens so fast. One moment, he’s rubbing the tip of his cock over her entrance, and the next, his entire length is inside her. No warning. No preamble. A strangled moan escapes her mouth.

“So fucking wet,” he growls, grabbing on to her hips. “You like being manhandled and tossed around like a ragdoll?”

He doesn’t wait for her to answer before ramming his cock into her again. Usually, he’ll start slow and build up to a hard and fast pace, but today, he seems overcome by a primal desperation—one that has probably been festering inside him all day. She can barely keep up, but that makes it all the more exhilarating.

One hand pins her bound wrists to her lower back, keeping her in place, while the other grips her hair and yanks her head backwards, forcing her to arch her back. He finishes fast, emptying deep inside of her cunt, grunting and moaning with relief. She looks over her shoulder at him.

“That’s it? I didn’t even come,” she says just to egg him on.

He grabs a fistful of her hair again and speaks lowly into her ear, “What makes you think I give a fuck about your pleasure, hm? Sluts like you don’t deserve to come.”

He releases her hair and pulls out. Some of his come leaks down her inner thigh. Through the corner of her eye, she sees him reach down towards his bag. And then something cool and hard pokes between her legs. He presses the object into her slit, twisting it around, dousing it in her arousal and his come. It’s a plug, she realizes. A rather large one.

Once it’s covered in a mix of their fluids, he uses his free hand to spread apart her cheeks and starts inserting the plug into her tightest hole. He doesn’t really take his time. The rounded tip goes in, then the rest of it is hastily crammed into her. They’ve been doing this long enough that it slides in easily, but she still squirms and whines at the discomfort.

“Oh, stop whining,” he snaps. “It’s not even that big. You’ve had bigger things in your ass before.”

She scowls at him over her shoulder. “Well, if you think it’s so easy, why don’t you try shoving one up your own ass?”

He retaliates with a harsh spank.

“Ow!”

“Bold of you to talk back to me from the extremely vulnerable position you’re in right now,” he threatens, and the effects of his words are felt right between her legs.

He grabs something else from his bag, then tells her to open her mouth before shoving a ball gag in there. He secures the leather strap behind her head.

“That’s better,” he says. “Should’ve done that ten minutes ago. Only thing your mouth is good for is sucking me off anyway. Isn’t that right?”

All she can do is glare at him with the gag in her mouth.

“Glad you agree, love,” he says with a cocky smirk.

A soft, plushy object is placed in her hand—the squeaky toy they use in place of the safeword when she’s bound and gagged. Then he folds his belt in half and gently glides the cool leather over her bum. As soon as he raises the belt, she tenses and screws her eyes shut, bracing herself for the first strike. When it doesn’t come, she relaxes a bit and opens one eye, falling for the same trick he’s used on her countless times.

The belt smacks against her ass. She cries out. A second smack makes her knees buckle, dragging her down a bit.

“Stay still,” he orders.

It’s a good thing she’s gagged because she definitely would’ve answered back with a snarky comment and made things worse for herself.

He whips her with the belt several times in a row. Her ass clenches around the plug each time. He pauses only briefly to run his hands over the bright red marks now decorating her backside, like an artist proudly inspecting his work. And then he’s back to belting her, occasionally aiming for the backs of her thighs. There’s no doubt that sitting will be a challenge tomorrow.

Tears stain the sheets beneath her while her cunt drips with arousal, the pain cathartic and excruciating at the same time. She comes somewhere between the punishing blows, too lost in the pleasure to keep count.

He eventually stops and tosses the belt aside, telling her to get up on the bed. It’s a little awkward with her hands cuffed behind her, but she manages anyway. Once again, he yanks her around like a doll until he has her in his desired position: lying on her back with her head hanging off the edge of the bed. Her hands are trapped under her but still free enough to squeak the toy if needed. He removes the gag from her mouth and instantly replaces it with his hard cock.

“Let’s put that whore mouth to good use,” he says as he begins fucking her mouth the same way he fucked her pussy earlier.

His tip connects with the back of her throat over and over, his large hands clawing at her breasts. He pinches and tugs at her nipples hard enough to make her body arch off the bed. Then he brings a hand to the front of her neck, squeezing it while his hips continue thrusting into her mouth. She presses her thighs together tightly.

Just when she thinks he’s going to come down her throat, he pulls out. She gasps for air. Finally, he takes off his own clothes and joins her on the bed, flipping her over onto her stomach. He uncuffs her wrists and cuffs them above her head instead, then lifts her up onto her knees and forearms.

She feels him tug on the base of the butt plug, fucking her with it a little before taking it out. He squirts a generous amount of lube between her cheeks and begins driving his cock into her ass but doesn’t get further than a couple inches. She’s too tense. It always seems to happen despite how many times they’ve done this.

“Gonna have to relax for me, love,” he says in the softest tone she’s heard him use all night. His hand caresses her lower back. He can be a dick sometimes, but he’s shockingly aware of when she needs a gentle touch.

“Give me a minute,” she says, steadying her breathing before telling him to continue.

He pushes in a bit more, then draws back and pushes in again, going a little deeper every time. Once the tightness in her muscles eases, he slides all the way in and holds himself there.

“Fuck,” she groans. “Fuck me.”

“Beg.”

Her mind is so muddled by the intense sensation of her hole stretching around his cock that she almost doesn’t hear the word.

“Huh?”

“Beg me to fuck your ass,” he demands.

That bastard.

“Fuck you,” she replies, though it comes out as more of a whine than an insult.

“I’m not moving an inch until you beg.” He grips her hips tightly to ensure that she can’t move either.

She doesn’t want to give in so quickly, doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction. But as much as she hates to admit it, Harry’s dick makes her weak. And the worst part is he knows it too.

“Please, H, please fuck me. Your cock feels so good in my ass. I need you to fuck me hard and not hold back. Just— Fuck! Just use me for your pleasure. Please.”

Finally, Harry’s hips start moving. He retracts them, then thrusts forward sharply. She cries out in surprise and relief. He starts pounding into her. Quick, sharp thrusts. One after another. With little pause in between. She would reach down and rub her clit if her wrists weren’t bound together. Fortunately, Harry has the same thought. His hand finds her clit, rubbing it in fast circles to speed up her orgasm.

She feels it crash over her moments later, igniting in her core and spreading outward to her limbs. Harry continues fucking her through it, not slowing down for a second. He tells her he’s going to come in her ass, calling her his good little cumslut and his perfect little fucktoy and every filthy word in the book, becoming more and more incoherent until he finally lets go with a deep groan.

Rolling over onto the bed, he frees her wrists and tosses the cuffs to the side, not caring where they land. Y/N lets her knees give out under her and falls onto her stomach with a soft thud. She closes her eyes. A while later, his fingertips graze the back of her shoulder.

“Hey,” he says softly, “you good?”

She opens her eyes and grins. “Yup.”

“Wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“You know that’s how I like it.”

A pleased sigh leaves his lips. He runs a hand through his hair, pushing the stray curls off his damp forehead.

“Thanks for letting me come over,” he says. “I really needed that.”

“Aww, you needed me?” she teases, knowing how much he despises the idea of “needing” anyone.

He scoffs and looks away, but not before Y/N can notice the blush creeping into his cheeks.

“You wish,” he grumbles.

“Whatever you say, tough guy.”

***

Thank you for reading!  MASTERLIST

[allthelovehes]

Make You Mine* | TEASER

Summary: Harry and Y/N are FWB but when Y/N has plans with another man Harry gets extremely jealous.

Pairing: FWB!Harry x reader

Word count: 1.2K TEASER of a 5.2K Patreon Exclusive!

Warnings: Smut, sir kink, cum eating, just really hot ok.

Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry @harrysslut7 @swiftmendeshoran @lucasandharold @harrysbabycherry @htaylor18 @rose-garden-dreamz @myalovesharry @mellamolayla @hsonlyangelxo @yousunshineyoutempter @heartateasee @blueheisenbergtragedy Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗

Support my work by joining my Patreon!

Ever since Y/N started this friends-with-benefits type of situation with her best friend Harry, they have been doing their best to keep their emotions in check. It's the same old story; it's fun and exciting, and then one or both of them ends up getting attached. They both know the deal, but it's too tempting to be together, and the sex is just so good.

They never agreed upon being exclusive but they also never explicitly told each other that they shouldn't have any other sexual partners. So now that Harry is busy working in the studio and therefore working most days of the week, he's starting to wonder if there's a chance Y/N might be seeing someone else.

He isn't stupid, he knows she has needs too, and he's sure she can find someone to take care of her whenever she needs it. The thought of her with someone else however is not a pleasant one. He isn't the jealous type, really, he's not. But still, the thought of her being with someone else makes him feel... strange.

He knows this isn't right, he's just being unreasonable. After all, they have never been officially exclusive, and she's allowed to fuck whoever she wants.

Harry's suspicions are confirmed when he texts Y/N to see if she's home tonight, he's desperate for some attention and hers is the only body he wants wrapped around him right now. He's met with an answer that is not quite what he's hoping for, and it makes him feel like he's just swallowed a bucket of cold water.

Y/N Can't tonight, I've got plans.

Plans. So it is another man then. She has plans with someone, and the worst part is, she didn't even tell him. She's never done that before, always kept him in the loop. Harry's chest tightens and his stomach starts to do flips. It's not jealousy, he tells himself, but it sure as hell feels like it. He doesn't even know for sure, how the hell can he be so upset?

Harry Plans huh? What's up?

He's trying his best to sound casual, but he's pretty sure he's failing. He's waiting for a text back, maybe she'll tell him. He doesn't have to wait long for an answer, which makes his heart sink even more.

Y/N I don't know if I should tell you

Shit. She's really going to make him ask then. He takes a deep breath and decides to bite the bullet.

Harry Is it a date then?

A little over a minute passes and his phone vibrates.

Y/N Depends

Harry On what?

Y/N On you

Harry swallows, his heart beating in his throat. He's not sure how to answer, his emotions are running wild, and he's starting to feel angry. She's got the answers he's desperate for, and she won't just give them to him. He feels the rage boil inside him and he just wants to go out there and confront her.

Harry Tell me Y/N

Y/N You'll either like it or not

Harry You know I'm not good at guessing games. Just tell me

Y/N Okay, fine It's not a date, but it is with a man

Harry And what does that have to do with me?

His hands are shaking, his heart is beating like crazy, and yet his stomach feels like it's somehow filled with butterflies. He can't believe he's having this conversation, but he really should have seen this coming.

Y/N I don't know. I mean, do I tell you about every single guy I see?

He feels his throat tighten, and his voice falters when he tries to form words.

Harry So you've slept with him

He knows that's not the kind of answer she's looking for, but he can't help it. He's too caught up in his own emotions and thoughts, and he's suddenly desperate to hear the words come from her own mouth.

Y/N No

Harry But you're going to

She's not stupid, she must be able to tell what he's thinking. He's not going to play this game with her, he wants an answer.

Harry Y/N?

A few seconds pass in silence, and Harry's heart rate rises.

Y/N Maybe

The air feels as though it's leaving his body, and he has to steady himself against the kitchen counter. He didn't even realize he was holding his breath.

Harry Oh okay

He can't bring himself to tell her to have fun. Instead, he just closes his eyes and lets out a sigh. He's feeling so many things, so many conflicting emotions, and he just doesn't know how to process them. He's trying his best to keep it together, but his insides feel like they're going to burst.

After a moment of silence, he opens his eyes again.

Y/N Why?

His head is spinning. He wants to go and tell her he doesn't want her to have sex with anyone but him, but he knows he can't do that. The thought of her having sex with someone else is driving him insane, but he also doesn't want her to think that he owns her. He doesn't know what to do.

Harry I don't know

He doesn't want to tell her about his feelings, it would make everything so much worse. He doesn't know if he can trust her enough to tell her the truth. After all, what if she tells him that she doesn't want to see him anymore, and they stop being friends? He knew starting this thing would lead to heartache, he just didn't think it would be on his side.

He decides not to tell her anything, and he locks his phone and sets it back on the counter. He heads to his room, but the anger and frustration inside him is just too much to be able to relax. He needs to let it out, somehow. He doesn't know how to deal with this.

He picks up his phone and starts typing out a text, but he erases it before he can send it. He can't tell her, he's just not ready. He's scared, and he doesn't want to lose her. He starts typing another message, but again he doesn't send it. He doesn't know what to say, he doesn't know how to handle this.

He paces back and forth through his kitchen before making a decision. He picks up his keys and phone and walks out the door. He knows exactly where he's heading, and he can't wait to see her.

He drives there as fast as he can, and when he finally gets to her apartment, he doesn't even bother knocking on her door, he just uses the key she gave him and lets himself in. The lights are on, and she's standing in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in her hand.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Her voice is calm, but Harry can see her hands shake ever so slightly, and her eyes are wide as she looks at him. He's probably the last person she was expecting to show up here.

“I came to see you.” He says, his voice wavering as he tries to catch his breath.

“I can see that, but why?”

He walks over to her and wraps his arms around her, pulling her close and pressing his lips against hers. His hands find their way into her hair, and he presses her against the kitchen counter, his tongue pushing its way past her lips.

[lilystyles]

bloom.

part four of the no strings attached series by @lilystyles

no strings attached masterlist & main masterlist xxx

authors note part four is hereeeeeee!! IM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO WRITE THIS. i was drowning in assignments these past few months which is why it has taken me so long. i am now on my winter break yay, so i should be able to update more regularly thanks for the patience and love XXXX

brief description y/n and harry go to dinner and something stronger blooms between them.

warnings! smut (f!receiving, blowjob, sex, cumplay, loss of virginity but is all very romantic) unprotected sex (pls wear a condom), swearing, alcohol abuse, overall just a mature read. around 11.6k words. (she's longggg omg)

inexperinced!virgin!reader x fwb!harry

* * * * *

Harry and Y/n had managed to keep their new ‘relationship’ a secret for a little over a month which Y/n was very proud of, normally she couldn’t lie to save her life. He’d come over most weekends or she’d go to his and they would eat food, sometimes they’d cook sometimes they’d go out, they would watch films, sometimes at home sometimes in the cinema. But by the end of the night after a few wines and with an old soul record playing in the background they’d pleasure each other. 

It was simply perfect. Whatever, wherever they were at was the happiest they had ever been. Except maybe the few Christmases they’d had together as roommates.

Y/n had never thought she could enjoy someone else’s company this much. Within time she grew the most comfortable she ever had been with someone. He’d seen her naked, he’d seen her cry, he’d seen her bleed, and he knew all of her secrets. She felt so free around him. It was a wonderful feeling, she only wished she could tell her other friends about it and how great it was. How happy she was, how happy he made her. This free feeling? Did they have that too? Is that why they’d always encouraged her to get a boyfriend and put herself out there?

But she knew it was just easier this way — their own little bubble. Keeping it their little secret. Sometimes things went to shit once they were said out loud. She’d noticed that and was worried if she shared it with them he would disappear.

They still hadn’t had sex yet, Harry wanted to wait for the right moment for that. He knew that virginity was a silly construct but he still wanted her first time having sex to be something she wouldn’t regret. He couldn’t live with himself if he ruined that for her. He didn’t want it to feel forced and corny and like it was this dramatic live changing event but he didn’t want it to be in the back of a car in a dark car park either. He wanted it to be a nice moment. She’d been ready for weeks, since that first night even. But when Harry told her waiting was the right thing to do she listened and was grateful for his delicate handling of the situation. He was more experienced so she listened.

She trusted him.

When Harry got a text from James that day that the guys all wanted to go on a camping trip for a long weekend in the middle of spring, he called her immediately. 

After a few rings, she answered. “Hi, Haz!” She sounded breathless but chirpy.

“Hey, Lovie.” He could hear clatter in the background. She must’ve been up to something. A loud bang echoed in his ear.“What are you doing, Cheeky?” He said in a playful tone.

She giggled. “I’m attempting to perfect a cookie recipe. I had a bit of an anxious day, so I needed a distraction.”

“Why didn’t you just call me? I’m happy to distract you.” He said softly, grabbing a jumper from his cupboard. He was about to ask if he could come over, not that he needed to at this point.

She wondered for a moment if he meant that in a sexual way or not. Because everything had begun to blur. Sure most of the time when she saw Harry they’d pleasure each other, but sometimes he just held her warmly in his arms. Sometimes they did nothing at all. What did it all mean? Sometimes he felt like a boyfriend, most of the time actually.

“I’m sure you have a life outside of being my distraction.” She said stubbornly, mixing the batter in the large bowl. Her arm was aching. The smell of spices and ginger filled her nose, her biggest struggle when baking was usually not eating all the batter.

“Not really. So, can I come over?”

She giggled again, softly. “Of course. See you in 20.”

“Getting in the car as we speak.”

“Drive safely please.”

He smiled. “Always, Bun.”

When he arrived at her apartment he barely had to knock before she had already opened the door. 

“Hi, H!” She chirped.

“Hi, Petal.”

She opened the door wide for him. “Come in.” She was in a pair of boxers he had left behind a few nights ago they were dark blue and a tight old One Direction shirt. She’d supported them in the early stages of their career, that shirt was from way back when. She was covered in flour and other cooking ingredients, looking as adorable as ever. Wearing those ridiculous bunny slippers of hers.

He shut the door behind him following her to the kitchen where something good was cooking. She was making another batch of her cookies (she was famous for them).

“I thought you could give these to Gem and Anne when you see them, you said they were coming down last time you were ‘round. Of course, you don’t have to. But I miss them, and they used to like my cookies.” She said shyly, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He never took his eyes off her.

He grinned stepping closer to her with his arms wide. “You are the cutest.”

She blushed. 

“You should come to dinner.” He pulled her into his chest, chin resting on her head. Smelling the scent of her delicious shampoo as he squeezed the plump flesh of her arms and shoulders.

She looked up, arms still wrapped around his hips, “That isn’t very friends with benefits of us though, is it?” Tucking her head into his chest, he smelt so good today. Like every day. The woodsy fresh bodywash he used was still very strong on his skin and his hair was extra fluffy. He must have showered this morning.

“I’d have asked you, either way, Love. Y’know Mum adores you. Gem too.”

She looked up. “Okay….When is it?”

“Tonight, that’s sort of why I wanted to come over. And, did you see the text James sent?”

She shook her head and walked over to the living room and found her phone buried underneath the dozens of blankets. She now saw the chat flooded with texts. 

JAMES

Hi guys! Is everyone free next weekend for the long weekend? Me and Daisy have planned a lil getaway at the beach. We would love to go all together like the old times. Bring a tent and gear. X

DAISY

 and bring your party pants!!

OLIVE

I’m so there. :))

FINNLEY

I’ll check, I’ve got exams coming up. 

But fingers crossed.

PENNY

i am definitely coming !!!

MICHAEL

Yes bet bet. Sounds like a plan

JAMES

Harry? Y/n? U two in?

She looked up. “Sounds nice, a lil’ getaway.” She liked the idea of doing nothing with Harry by the beach and amongst nature.

“I’ll go if you go.”

That made her smile and she looked down before typing.

me and harry shall be there xxx

After that, Harry managed to get roped into helping finish the cookie decorating before Y/n rushed off to get ready for dinner. Harry had booked a swanky restaurant, so Y/n felt like she had to dress up just a bit more than their usual dinners.

Once she was out of the shower, she stared annoyedly in her towel at her options. 

She remembered when Harry used to come home from touring and Anne would throw these big but intimate dinner parties and invite all his family and friends. Y/n could just wear jeans to that and they’d all bundle up around a bonfire after dinner and look at the stars. Harry and her would share a wine or two and it was simple. Harry loved how normal he felt with Y/n, even the memory of her was enough to ground him. He was glad she was back in his life, and he felt now he was ready for it and ready for her.

Harry came down the hall to her room and sat down on her bed grabbing one of her teddy bears and cuddling it in his big arms. The sight was rather funny, this big tattooed man and a little pink teddy bear cuddled up in pretty feminine soft-looking bedsheets. “I’ve got to change and pick some gifts up from back home before we go, is that okay?” He asked watching her dig through her clothes.

She nodded. “Of course! But what should I wear? What do you think?”

She was oddly nervous about tonight even though every Christmas when she went home to Holmes Chapel she went over to Harry’s Mums house for a drink and sometimes had the odd text with Gemma. She was still in contact with that side of her life it was just now she was Harry’s date to dinner. But she wasn’t his girlfriend but they’d think she was and what did that mean? Anne and Y/n’s mother had wanted them to get married for years now since they were around 10. Would this be the new talk of the town between all the mothers? She knew it was likely. Gemma was probably bringing her partner Michal, so it felt really official or something. 

He watched her, her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as she stared at her cupboard. 

“I’m just wearing a shirt and slacks. Simple.” He replied. “Don’t think too hard about it, you’ll look pretty in anything, Bun.”

“Harry, I bet all of your outfit is custom-made Gucci. I can’t compete with that!”

He bit his lip to hold back his laugh. “Lovie, calm down. Don’t work yourself up. Just wear somethin’ you feel nice in. If yeh’ worried about me caring that’s silly, I like yeh’ in anythin’.”

She remained frowning and started to dig through the dresses she had. She found one hidden amongst them, she wore it to her birthday once. It was a long golden slinky dress with lace detail on the hem and neckline. It was very delicate. And even though it was spring she knew it would still be chilly that evening so she grabbed a long brown coloured coat from off the door that she had been wearing most days to Uni. It was warm and woollen and she loved it.

Harry busied himself by scrolling through his phone while she got ready. It didn’t take her long, once she was happy with her outfit and had added a light pink scarf, a handbag and some shoes she went to the bathroom to do her makeup and hair. 

She had already blow-dried her hair before and it was in a lovely natural state so she didn’t bother changing it. For makeup she kept it simple, only enhancing her features. When she was ready and came out Harry looked up upon the clicking of her heels. 

His cheeks turned pink at the sight. Jesus. “Beautiful, Bun.” He felt no words could do it justice.

She blushed a bit too at those words and that admiring expression of his. “Thanks, Harryyy. Ready? I’ll get the cookies and lock up and then we can go, okay?”

He nodded at her standing up and following her lead as she’d put the cookies into a tin. 

Once she grabbed everything else she needed they got in Harry’s car and headed to his house.

Y/n was browsing Harry’s playlists and noticed a new one in there which was unnamed only with a pink heart as the title. He wasn’t really paying attention to her on his phone, his hand was carelessly thrown on her thigh and the other the wheel, they were both pretty silent, it was calm. So he didn’t notice her scrolling through the songs — it was this soft, romantic, sleepy, soul playlist. Full of a lot of her favourites and it felt like a cosy evening. So she put it on and placed his phone back into her lap. 

Harry’s ears pricked up at the sound of the song, she’d found the playlist. Was it obvious it was for her? Well, about her?

“You found it.” He whispered, the song was only softly playing as background noise. He didn’t have the radio up loud. So she heard him.

“Yeah, it’s like all m’favs.” She said, smiling gently. 

He contemplated saying it, feeling his heart speed up as he spoke, “I made it f’you.”

She finally met his eyes and gave him this dazzling toothy grin. “Aw, that’s nice, Haz. Really sweet.” She leaned over kissing his cheek. She laughed when her lipstick left a stain and she rubbed it. “Sorry.”

He just gave her thigh a squeeze in reply worried he might reveal himself if he said anything else and a few songs later they arrived at his house. He told Y/n she could wait in the car because it would take him 10 minutes max to get dressed. 

She nodded and scrolled through her Instagram while she waited and then replied to a text from her Mum before she turned her phone off and waited in silence. He was quick as promised and when he came out the door he was looking devilishly handsome. 

She felt her body react to it. Her cheeks turned pink, her pupils grew in want, and her hands itch to touch him. Her heart was hammering against her chest and she felt a familiar twist of want in her stomach. He was in a silky black shirt that was long and tight on his muscular arms, his buttons were undone and showed off his tattoos. Which reminded her of when he had his long hair and he was this pure sex god rockstar of a man. He had a pair of black flared pinstripe trousers to match and a pair of black boots with red detailing. He looked so good she wanted to faint. She felt her thighs squeeze in want and she sighed at herself, don’t be such a perv!

He had added some extra rings and jewels from his usual bundle. Something caught her eye. It was this golden pendant with a moon and star on it, she’d bought it for him for his 19th birthday, when they first started living together. She hadn’t seen him wear it in a long time, she’d forgotten she’d even bought the thing. Y/n remembered buying it. Harry had been with her, they were at a market full of random things looking for cheap furniture for their place. 

They were walking past this large jewellery stall and both admired the rings and style. It was different from the normal places they’d seen. They had tonnes of it. A glint of something gold had caught her eye, it was that pendant. It was one of the only gold among the silver. She touched it in admiration and Harry peered over her shoulder, saying it was pretty and he liked it. Harry said he thought it was cool and matched a lot of his other jewellery. But without much thought, he walked off to look at some couches in the next stall. 

Y/n knew his birthday was coming up and asked the jeweller how much it was. He was this eccentric gentleman, who smiled at her. Showing the matching ring to her which was very dainty and feminine that she didn’t even think would fit Harry’s fingers. She explained that she just wanted the necklace as a gift for someone. But he said that he would not sell either piece without the other. At the time he explained it was made for two lovers, so they’d always be together, but Y/n replied it was just for a friend, truly believing he was just trying to get more money out of her. But now looking back she and Harry loved wearing them and matching. It cost her more money than she could afford at the time but she was drawn to it. Something magical in the crafting of them.

Her hand reached over to touch his neck fingers touching the chain. “Oh, my god. I forgot about that.”

He grinned. “Found it the other day.”

She wished she knew where the ring was. “I remember that ol’ thing.” Sometimes when she was in the crowd or if Harry knew she was watching the show, in the early stages that is, he’d lift up the pendant and kiss it or touch his heart where it lay. Especially if he was playing a song Y/n liked (or that was secretly about her). Sweet Creature was one he wrote for her.

When they arrived in a rather fancy area of London with very expensive restaurants and hotels, Y/n could’ve laughed. They’d both grown up okay, but they were just normal working-class families and they weren’t spoiled. She wished she could go back and tell young Harry who was always working away on his singing that’d he’d be here. She wished she could run into the bakery and tell him he’d be the most famous man ever. Tell both the young kids who were working selling pastries and bread that they would be here in a short time, together.

The valet collected the car and Harry slinked his hand into hers when they stepped out, and Y/n thought she spotted someone giving them a double-take. They quickly entered the restaurant, and the concierge took their coats for them. 

The restaurant was warm and heated, with all these crisp white tablecloths, mood lighting, and crystal glasses. The waiter immediately guided them to their table which was a fancy booth and Anne was already there waiting. She got up and instantly pulled Y/n into her arms. 

“I’m so glad Harry brought you, Darling! It’s so good to see, look at that gorgeous face of yours.” She squeezed her cheeks and kissed her forehead leaving a big mauve-coloured lipstick stain there. Y/n grinned so big and pulled her back in for another hug whispering sweet comments.

Anne was so lovely, Y/n had always loved her. She made one of her favourite people, and it made sense why he was so respectful and kind. So perfect.

Harry was next to be welcomed, bending down to be fussed over in her arms. Anne questioned if he’d been eating enough and began a tangent of worried remarks. He was such a momma’s boy, he could only smile gently at her.

When Gemma and Michal arrived they greeted Y/n too with hugs and kind comments and once their meals arrived all her tensions eased. She now knew she had been silly to worry. Harry’s family were just as lovely as him. She knew that already and this pressure of her being his date was stupid. They already liked her, they knew her, and they’d seen her grow up beside Harry. She was just Y/n and he was just Harry.

They ate wonderful dinners and drank expensive brands of champagne, along with some fancy French dessert Y/n had never tried that Harry insisted she ate. It was a perfect night and she was sad to say goodbye to them all. When Harry dipped to the bathroom for a minute Anne pulled her aside. 

“I’m so glad you two are getting closer again, you’ve always been my favourite of his girlfriends. And these cookies! So delicious, I love when you send them over at Christmas time. Harry steals the whole thing of them, usually. No one can keep their hands off them. Ever thought of selling them?”

“Thank you, Anne. Thanks for letting me come, I hope I didn’t intrude on your family night.” She didn’t have the heart to tell her otherwise. She wished she was one of his girlfriends and she was glad someone appreciated her cookies.

When Harry back came from the bathroom he saw Y/n hugging his mum, and his heart melted at the sight. 

Y/n was good with people, and his family had always loved her. She was so gentle and well-mannered. Their Mums were very close too which helped. When they had drifted Anne still updated him that Y/n was doing well, and he was always pleased to hear that.

Harry said his goodbyes too and promised them something about bringing Y/n to another family catch-up, she just smiled warmly with pink cheeks at the idea. She was leaning into his side, his big arm draped over her shoulders as he kissed her temple. 

The valet handed Harry the keys and they slid into his car before driving back home finally. It was around 10 in the evening and Y/n was absolutely blissful, her hand had found his lap stroking his thigh gently as a light patter of rain began to fall down on the windows. 

“You were wonderful tonight. Mums’ always loved you though, Petal.” His eyes were on the road but he was grinning anyway — unable to contain it. He felt so fucking happy.

She grinned softly. She was pretty sure she was all heart eyes for him right now. She imagined she probably looked like one of those cartoons where the guy sees a pretty woman walking down the road and his eyes pop out and his head starts spinning. 

“Thanks for bringing me, Harry. It was lovely. I had a really nice night.”

He looked at her as if to say ‘duh’, “Of course, I’d bring ya’ I know we didn’t talk for a while there, but I thought of you a lot. And y’know Mum, loves ya’. You’re very important to us all.”

She looked away from him blushing down at her free hand before nodding, and softly replying. “I thought of you too. Why didn’t you come to Mum’s New Year’s party? I waited for you the whole night…”

He sighed thinking back to what she was talking about. 

“I was in Japan.” He replied. “I really did contemplate flying back just for the party, but I wasn’t sure if y’wanted me too.”

She looked over at him. “I didn’t know that.”

“I know.” He replied softly.

The rest of the car journey was quiet, the gentle hum of the radio played along with the sound of rain softly hitting the glass. Harry didn’t speak he just moved his hand onto his thigh where hers rested, giving it a squeeze.

It didn’t take long to arrive back at his house, Harry opened the door for her and they quickly rushed inside to avoid the rain it had grown heavier and more wild. Y/n stepped inside first with a sigh, and Harry was not far behind. His hands slid onto her hips and lower stomach, and he kissed her neck just below her ear. 

She giggled, her hands finding his. He began to whisper sweet nothings to her but was cut off by her phone ringing. He grunted in annoyance but she said she had to take the call. 

He didn’t let go of her, clinging to her childishly and nuzzling his head into her soft shoulder. 

“Hi, Mum.” She said into the phone, Harry paused his touch.

He could hear the sound of Y/M/N over the phone muffled.

“Anne already told you?” Y/n wanted to laugh. She looked at Harry who sighed, of course, Anne had already rung Y/n’s Mum. 

“No. We aren’t dating Mum. We are just friends.” She sighed. Harry chuckled. 

They weren’t just friends now. Friends don’t make each other cum, they don’t kiss, or see each other naked, friends don’t do what they do. They were way past that line now. He knew her inside and out and now he knew her more intimately than anyone ever had. Harry wondered if he’d ever have the balls to approach the subject of their relationship and where he stood.

“Mum, we were never dating. Please stop telling people he’s my ex-boyfriend.” She laughed. Her Mum was a funny old thing.

“Okay, I gotta go now. Bye, Mum.”

The muffled voice spoke again.

“Yep. Yep. Okay. Love you too. Bye.” She let out a big sigh hanging up the phone. 

Harry was taking off his shoes and belt, he seemed sleepy but content. He was sat on the couch, he’d turned the mood lighting on. It was this warm glowy orange hue that washed over the room. He looked up upon hearing the end of the conversation.

“What is it with Mums?” He teased her as leant back against the plush white sofa. Y/n described it as sitting on a cloud. She napped on it all the time. His legs were all spread out and his head was thrown back.

Harry was so fucking hot. All the time. Did he never get tired of looking so handsome?

She shrugged, walking over to sit beside him and threw her legs up so she was laying on his lap. Her cheek rested on his thigh, and Harry’s painted fingernails scratched the roots of her hair. She made a little content sigh, letting her eyes flutter shut. Him touching her was like heaven.

“Mm. Feels nice, Harry.” He let out a little chuckle. She was practically purring from his touch, all curled up on his lap. Her hands were resting on his knee, and he found himself admiring them. So dainty and delicate. Sometimes he pondered adding a ring to that finger of hers. He thought she’d be a very good person to grow old with. She loved routines and nights in, but she was witty and intelligent, though she loved simplicity she was definitely not boring. She kept you on your toes.

He wanted to stay like this forever. She was practically falling asleep in his lap, like putty in his hands. She made the odd sigh or moan in contentment every now and then as he let her destress. 

She had been a bit stressed with Uni and her life at the moment, the work of it all was hard right now, so he wanted to do anything to help her calm down. The dinner had been a nice distraction for her, and she seemed a lot happier that evening than the text he had received from her that morning. 

She rolled over to her other side so her face was near his hip nose grazing against his skin which smelt so fucking good — he used this expensive woodsy cinnamon soap it made her want to lick him all over. He continued his slow and delicate scratch on her head and his other hand rubbed her exposed back. Her hands moved to under his shirt, trailing along his fern tattoos and grazing the wisps of hair that lead underneath his waistband. Her nose grazed his skin as she tiredly nuzzled into him, feeling her eyes shut. She felt so safe in his lap and arms.

It was so domestic. They had become so domestic. He wished every day he could come home and say something cheesy like ‘Honey, I’m home!’ and scoop her up into his arms and kiss her silly. He longed for nights like this watching TV as she rested on his chest, moving with the rise and fall of his chest. He wanted the mornings too. When she grumpily didn’t want to wake up unless it was from kisses and a coffee.

“Do y’want some wine?” He asked her, his voice all raspy.

They’d only each had a glass of champagne with dinner which had long since faded. Leaving them very sober.

“Sure. Red?” She asked sitting up. Her hair was slightly messy from his playing with it.

He nodded his hand finding her chin and lifting it up. “Whatever y’want, Lovie.” He kissed her forehead before getting up and moving to the kitchen. She finally took her heels off and removed her scarf placing them on the floor. She stood up, feeling the soft rug on her sore feet. 

She leaned down to the coffee table lighting some candles of his. She lit a soap-smelling one and then a lavender one. Then once she was happy with that she walked over to his records and looked for something nice to play. 

She stumbled upon a Marvin Gaye one and she giggled to herself. It was kind of cheesy love making music, so she picked that one. She placed the record down on the turn table part and placed the stylus down. It began to hum a gentle sultry song and she moved back to the couch. 

When Harry came back she was laying on the couch, spread out as she hummed along to Marvin Gaye. In his hands, he had a bottle red all the way from New Zealand and two pink-tinted wine glasses. 

He laughed at her. “Look at yeh, Minx.” He teased. 

She smiled up at him, her dress was hiked up and she looked like the embodiment of idleness. She sat up so he could join her and he poured them both a glass.

They only had two glasses each before Y/n started to droop tiredly against his shoulder. He found her particularly adorable like that. When he finished his final sip he helped her up so they could go to sleep, he blew out the candles too. She followed him lazily up the stairs and into the bedroom, arms wrapped around his waist and tummy. 

He found a random Fleetwood Mac shirt and some grey tracksuit pants for her to wear in one of his messy drawers.

She changed out of the dress and was so happy to get her bra off. It was this pretty lacy one that had Harry frothing at the mouth. Her undies followed once he began to change as well. He found a pair of black silky sleeping pants and didn’t bother with a top.

She followed him to the ensuite and found the cotton pads and makeup remover he had just for her. She began to wipe off the makeup and was glad to be rid of it. He was brushing his teeth silently beside her and she watched him through the mirror. He caught her and gave her a wink. 

She just made a little kissy face in response. He smiled against the toothbrush, a rim of foam around his lips. Once she was done with all that she threw the rubbish into the small bin beside the toilet. 

“Do you have face wash?” She said quietly.

He nodded, spitting into the sink. “Just up there.” He pointed to the cupboard which was also the mirror. 

She opened it, rising on her tip toes for a second.

“Blue.” He replied. She squinted trying to find the blue bottle, he had an array of skincare products. She saw a big dark blue bottle, she reached for it and he nodded showing her that was the right one. 

They both washed their faces together and he smiled watching it foam up against her skin. Once they had washed their faces Y/n finally brushed her teeth and they went to bed. 

She sighed slipping into the big fluffy bed. He had some pale blue sheets on this week. He slid in beside her wrapping his strong arms around her and pulling her into him. He nuzzled his face into her neck and shoulder, the very slight stubble nipping her skin.

The backs of her thighs pressed against the front of his, her bum pressed up nicely against his soft silky pants and his hands squeezed the soft plump of her tummy in comfort. It wasn’t particularly late, but they loved to be inside Harry’s big bed and just cuddle.

“Y’were just perfect tonight. How someone hasn’t swept y’up and kept yeh I dunno…” He whispered kissing the top of her header, nose brushing against her hair, inhaling her shampoo. 

She flushed. “No one’s really tried, H.” He made her heart pick up at the comment. This man and his flattery.

“Lucky f’me. Means I can have ya’ all ta’ myself.” It was meant as a joke, but honestly, he selfishly did want her all to himself. She was so perfect.

She giggled. “Lucky you.”

He squeezed her closer and tighter. She giggled some more, wriggling in his grip. One of his hands moved to her upper thigh. She stopped and leaned into the touch. They didn’t talk they just started to relax into a sleepy silence, the chilly air making them want to bask in each other’s warmth even more.

He kissed her shoulder every now and then soothingly and Y/n shut her eyes. Basking in the feeling of him. His presence made her feel so safe she wanted to sleep often.

“Harry, do you ever think about how long we’ve known each other?” She asked randomly, as his hands continued to rub her body feeling her soft skin against his palms.

“All the time, Petal. Why?” He said softly, his voice was all raspy and gravelly. It made her feel something in the pit of her stomach. He made it even harder for her not to beg for him, this waiting game felt like edging.

“It’s just funny to me how much we have changed, but also how little we have too. I mean we’ve known each other since what? Daycare? And that little boy is still you…”

He understood exactly what she meant. Some things would never change about Harry even with age. Like, he would always be kind and always make an effort. He would always have 3 sugars in his tea unlike, Y/n who would prefer none. He would always enjoy cheesy romance films and love the idea of love. He will always admire old couples walking down the street. And she would always see the more practical side to love. 

She thought back to when they were younger teenagers and how he was rather distant from her in the sense that they were in the same friend group but funnily enough never really talked alone. Then she remembered that in their final year at school Harry, who had refused to dance with anyone else, asked Y/n to dance with him because he knew she’d been waiting for the boy she fancied to ask her all night. Sitting all pretty by herself, feeling like her efforts had been a waste. Only to find herself in the hands of him, spinning and laughing underneath the disco ball.

Then in University when they found out they were going to the same place they naturally found an apartment together, with a slight push from their mothers. Who felt at ease knowing their babies would have each other. Which was weird at first but soon they were at a furniture shop testing mattresses and giggling. 

She never felt uncomfortable around Harry, but once she was close to him she knew she was done for. She knew that for the rest of her life, she’d want him. Crave him close to her. He kind of felt that too, but in a different sense. 

It was more like they kept finding each other unplanned. During school they’d had so many lessons together, sitting with each other quietly. After school, his Mum had her family over for a meal. Then sometimes at the bakery, where they served familiar faces, and between breaks they sipped hot chocolate together. At the end of year dance Y/n and Harry were the only two without dates, and so he danced with her. When University rolled around no one else was going, and of course, Y/n had accidentally by luck of the draw picked the same school as him. They both happened to need a roommate and then they were roommates, then finally best friends. It was as simple as that, it just fell into place with her. He never forced anything. 

Oh, how he loved those memories of being her roommate and best friend. Whenever he thought back to those times he couldn’t help but grin. Neither had ever anticipated anything that would happen — him famous, and her here with him, cuddled in bed.

“It’s like we can’t not be in each other’s lives. You’re always there for me, showing up.” Was all he could manage to say. 

It’s true, when they had drifted and he did a tour for his first album she came to a show with her own money. 

Anne had called her up explaining in a panic how nervous he was for this tour. It was his first without the band. So, with little thought Y/n went in support because no one else could make it, Anne and Gemma both had stuff they couldn’t back out of. Anne knew Y/n would do it for Harry. Everyone knew she’d do just about anything for him except, well, him.

She was in the front row, dressed in a familiar outfit that took him back in time. It was this lavender dress from their school days. She’d worn it to the dance. It was bouncy and had big puffy sleeves, all short and fluffy.

He hadn’t expected it at all.

He came out, dancing and going wild for one of his louder and more upbeat songs. When he finally greeted the crowd he scanned them and said politely. “Hi, I’m Harry!”

She rolled her eyes. How was he still so devilishly charming?

He spotted something familiar, someone, familiar. Her eyes, her smile, and that dress took him back. Suddenly he felt like he was at home, in Holmes Chapel and he was just singing karaoke with his old friends. 

“Y/n?!” He said with a grin. Completely shocked, he shook his head in a puppydog like manner. The few longtime fans in the crowd cheered loudly, knowing her from photos off his Instagram. Anne had a few up on her Instagram too and they seemed to love Y/n in the comments (mainly).

She waved at him. Mouthing, “Hi, H!” She couldn’t contain her smile.

She could see in his eyes how much it meant to him. They got all glassy and soft. Even if they hadn’t spoken in a while she calmed him down immediately. He hadn’t realised how much having her there would calm him. 

She was like chamomile tea, a warm bed, all things nice and calming.

“Thank you for being here, for those of you who don’t know, Y/n is a very old friend of mine. We worked together in a bakery.” He jested.

Y/n giggled.

It felt right for him to sing this song next, “This next one is Sweet Creature.”

“I’ll always be there for you, H. You know that.” She said tenderly.

He rolled her around to face him so he could see her pretty face spewing these kind words. This deep pensive look in his eye. “I’m…I’m really glad you’re here with me…in this moment…this time in my life. I never really noticed how mundane life felt until you came back into mine.”

She felt herself melt like ice cream sitting in the blistering sun during a summer day. She kind of wanted to cry at how sweet he was. Harry wasn’t even her boyfriend but shit these feelings. They were real. Her body went even softer in his arms.

She lifted her hands up from her sides to his cheeks pushing his head down so she could lean in and place a kiss on his forehead. His hair smelt delicious like soap and peppermint.

He hadn’t expected that but he felt himself flush pink. The innocent touches are what made him blush the most. She was so gentle with him. 

“Oh, Harry.” She sighed, pulling away and tucking a stray curl of his behind his ear. “Me too.”

He smiled leaning forward. “Can I kiss you?”

Y/n rolled her eyes teasingly. “Of course.”

His hands slid around to her back, blunt nails scratching her skin perfectly underneath the Fleetwood Mac shirt. He leaned forward into her lightly pecking her puffy lips, remaining very gentle at first. Her hands moved to his neck fiddling with the hair that rested there as she leaned into him. She threw her leg up to his hip and he moved one of his hands to stroke it gently. It was so soft and romantic. 

As the kiss began to deepen she gripped his shoulders trying to press her chest even closer to his wanting to be as close to him as possible. He hummed softly, feeling her tits press into him. Her nipples were hard and he wanted them in his mouth. 

“Mm, you’re perfect.” He muttered against her lips.

She smiled into the kiss, and he used that as an excuse to slip his tongue in ever so slightly. That’s when the kiss began to grow more fiery and passionate. He nibbled her lip and pulled her body even closer letting her roll on top of him as she mewled. 

Her hips rocked needily against his silky pants and he moved his kisses down her jaw and neck peppering them frenziedly, loving the little whimpers and whines that escaped her lips. Which only spurred him on to continue further down to the top of her chest.

The way she was rocking against him was making him lose his mind. Her hands clawed his chest as she whispered quietly. “Please, Harry.” 

This tension had been building for weeks. She wanted him so fucking badly. It was always on her mind, and it was honestly distracting. She’d been trying to write an Essay that morning and all she could think of was him, and in a horny flurry, she imagined him bending her over the desk. Making her scream with pleasure as he often did.

“S’good f’me, Baby.” He breathed out. Hands finding her hips now, forcing them harder against him. Thinking filthy thoughts of him burying himself in her dripping pussy. 

Her lips pressed into his shoulder and then slowly moved down the side of his body, kissing along his tattoos, biting and licking some parts of his tanned bare skin. Until she was finally by his waistband, her pink chipped fingernails teased his snail trail of hair that led to underneath the silk. His skin was so soft there.

His eyes became all hooded, animalistic-like. He was looking at her like he wanted to eat her. But he remained calm and gentle with touches. His hands found her hair, all his rings were off so she felt no sting of metal on her skin. His fingers were running through it delicately and moving it away from her beautiful face.

“Prettiest girl in the world.” He muttered and she blushed resting her cheek on his thigh. 

“Thank you, Baby.” She sighed. 

She only ever let those pet names slip during these moments and it made him so fucking needy for her. He just smiled softly, at ease. “Of course.”

“Can I taste you, H? Please?”

He let his eyes shut and he softly whined as her hand palmed against his pant-covered cock. He was stiff beneath her touch, and she could feel him throbbing at the contact. “You can do whatever you want to me, Angel.”

She giggled teasingly giving his prick a firmer squeeze. “Don’t promise me that. We’ll never leave this bed.”

He took a shaky breath at her words, she was just so fucking hot without even trying. She literally just spoke her mind, and it had him frothing. 

“Is that a threat or a promise?” He replied breathily.

He opened his eyes, thinking back to all those nights in school when he’d dreamt of her sexually. He’d felt guilty a lot of the time for it of course, but she was just so fucking pretty and sexy without realising it. Like when they went swimming during the summer and she wore this cute little pink floral bikini, he would go home and in the summer heat, he would imagine it was her wrapped around him. He’d probably wanked to every filthy fantasy he’d ever had. Her sucking him off, maybe him fucking her throat watching tears spill from her eyes. Him eating her pretty pussy and making her feel so good she saw stars. Making love to her softly and romantically as she deserved, and sometimes he thought of fucking her roughly and needily. In different positions for hours. All the ones he could think of. But every time he came, he’d come back to and realise it was just his fist and not her mouth, hand, or precious pussy.

But now she was here in front of him, eyes all big looking up at him, ready and eager to take him into her mouth. She was real and she wanted him.

“Yes, Angel.” He rasped.

These moments always felt surreal to him. Especially because of how well they knew each other, now that they had started to explore each other’s bodies it was the most vulnerable they had ever been. No one would ever know them better than each other. 

Which is why her hand that was ghosting over his thick cock made him feel so close already from a mere touch.

She was dream-like.

“Mmm.” He whined. He was sensitive to her touch always, but tonight it was more than usual. They both pulled his pants off together so she could rest between his thighs, her mouth right in front of his leaking pink tip.

She was feeling a bit more vocal tonight. He loved it. “You have such a pretty dick, Harry. So big and veiny.”

He laughed softly, his hand running through his hair which had fallen into his eyes. “You think so?”

“I never really thought I could actually feel that way until I saw yours. It’s so pretty like the rest of you. It makes sense you have such a nice cock, it matches.” This new side to her had him dying in want.

God, he just wanted her so badly. He wanted to feel those pink slick lips around his cock, and watch her take him into her tight throat. Last night he’d even cum to the thought in the shower.

“You’re so sweet to me, Bun.”

She gave a gentle smile in response before shuffling closer to his glistening prick. Pursing her lips slightly as a string of spit dripped landing on the ruddy head, his breath hitched at the contact. His hands gripped the sheets roughly. When she finally leaned down close to him she did a signature kiss like always. The sight alone was enough to make him cum.

“Such a good girl for me, Baby.” He muttered his hands coming up to her hair pulling it away so he could see her adorable face as she kitten licked against his slick shaft. Her face was flushed pink like always when they’d been kissing, so pretty. She clenched her thighs at that comment and he noticed, very well aware now how much she loved his praise. Loved being told she was good for him, because she truly wanted to be good for him.

Leaning down further she fully enveloped his tip into her mouth, her tongue was a welcome contact against him and he whined loudly. “Fuck.” He said softly and involuntarily throwing his head back.

She had gained more confidence since that night on New Year’s Eve, she knew how he liked and had learnt to make him cum in mere minutes now. She had learnt to take most of him in her mouth too. Which she was surprised she could do considering how large he was.

As she swallowed him deeper into her mouth he heard a little choking sound as she went deeper than usual. Her nose grazed his navel and he cried out. She was taking him so fucking deep, the trail of hair tickled her noise.

“Shit, just like that sweet girl, so fucking good, deep. Fuck.”

She began bobbing her head faster and could feel him throb against her tongue, she would never be used to how large she was ever but she had started to learn ways to take him. He moaned loudly, unable to contain himself at her rapid pace. She pulled up for air for a second her hand coming down to stroke his slick cock at the loss of her throat so he wouldn’t miss her touch.

“H, y’can guide my head, it’s okay. I wanna make y’feel good. Move your hips too if that’s what you want.” She said slightly out of breath, spit and precum dribbled down her chin.

He looked at her eyes for reassurance and he saw a content look in them. “Okay, Love, just tap my legs if it’s too much.”

She nodded. “Ok, H.”

He smiled and she moved back down, taking a deep breath before she took him back into her mouth. He sighed, “Ah, mm.”

His hands had moved into her hair holding her head soft yet firm on his cock, when she made it to about halfway around him her tongue was swirling delicately against his engorged prick and he felt so close to cumming already. It had only been a few minutes.

She was struggling to stop her legs from squeezing together, his sounds made her so wet she felt herself dripping down her thighs. He began to gently guide her head into a bobbing rhythm and he felt a drip of precum fall out his head and he knew if they’d kept this up in another few minutes he’d cum. 

“Oh god, Y/n, your so fucking perfect taking me like this. Letting me use you.” He uttered, “Such a good girl letting me take your mouth like this. So filthy. My filthy girl.”

She moaned softly against his twitching cock and he whined, pulling her head up off him. She took a large breath in. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” She said quickly. 

He shook his head quickly. “No, you were fucking perfect, I just don’t want to cum yet.”

She looked at him, eyes all doe-like and lips sticky with his slick. Cocking her head to the side, “Why not?” 

He moved his hands to her shoulders. “Let me take care of you, I wanna make you feel good. You’ve been so good for me today. Such a sweet little thing. Let me take of my sweet girl.”

My sweet girl. Y/n felt her heart skip a beat.

She listened but pouted at his request. Sad his cum wasn’t down her throat. “Harryyy,” She whined. 

“What is it, Love, hmm?” But he knew full well what she was whining about. It had been apparent from the first night that Y/n loved his cum. She loved making him cum. In her mouth, on her tits, whatever he wanted. She often daydreamed of it in other places. Harry knew this.

She just continued to pout. “Enough whining. Be good f’me.” He ordered. “Let me take care of you. ”

Her face remained pouty but she spread her legs for him anyway and he yanked her pants down in one motion, she opened her legs for him widely and his hands stroked her thighs feeling the soft skin there. He motioned for her to take her shirt off as well. She threw it across the room.

He moved his hand up to her mouth tapping against her wet lips, he did that when he wanted her to suck on them.  She opened her mouth for his fingers making sure to swirl her tongue around them just to tease him a bit. He moved his eyes from her glistening pussy to her mouth and cheeky expression. He pulled them away. The popping noise made him smirk. 

“I don’t exactly need the help, you’re already dripping for me.” He teased, running his newly lubricated fingers against her puffy clit.

She moaned as her hips stuttered against his gentle hand. He laughed at her.

She wanted to be embarrassed but this being the millionth time Harry was between her legs she had given up hiding how wet he made her. Most mornings he wanted to start the day that way, right between her soft thighs pressing into his cheeks. 

“How could I not be, Harry? You drive me mad.” She replied her hands moving to his hair.

He smirked biting his lip. The heat of his breath made her squirm against him and his nose bumped her swollen clit. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss there. The taste of her was sweet and tangy on his tongue, and he was addicted. He began to lap up all the leaking arousal, making a filthy sound in his silent room. 

Her moans were soft and freely escaping her mouth, thighs squeezing against him as she tugged on his soft hair. She felt at complete ease underneath his harsh tongue. 

All her stress was melting away with his lick and suck, this was such a good outlet for her worries. She only thought of him. His mouth, his moans, and his prick.

“Harry,” She whimpered at the feel of his firm tongue. “Shit.” She breathed throwing her head back into his pillows, screwing her eyes shut. 

She felt his fingers glide up and down against her weeping hole until he finally slipped one inside. Feeling her clench against him firmly, he wished he was inside of her right now. Her velvety walls were so wet against his hand and he felt her dribble onto his hand as he began to speed up his thrusts. He added another finger.

His tongue didn’t stop suckling on her clit and curled his fingers against her, feeling the way her pussy stuttered against his fingers in an irregular clench. A telltale sign she was getting close to the brink of her orgasm.

“Jesus, Harry, how are you s’good at tha’? Think m’gonna cum soon.” She purred as her hips lifted up and her back arched off the bed.

He pulled his mouth back for a moment, his fingers speeding up and going deeper, as he rasped from wet lips. “S’okay Baby, cum for me, let go. Be good n’ cum f’me. I want it.”

She let out a mewling whine, tugging his hair harder. It was as if his words was the final thing she needed before she felt the start of her pleasure rise in her stomach.

He quickly moved his mouth back down and felt her puffy clit throb against his tongue and a drip of her slick fell down his chin as she let out a guttural cry.

A wave of bliss spasmed from her stomach to her stretched-out pussy, and she felt it pulsate over her entire body. Her eyes squeezed shut and she tugged his hair hard enough that he grunted against her.

“M’cumming! Fuck!” She felt lightheaded.

He pulled up for air, pumping his fingers quickly. “Good girl.” He praised breathily. Spent from working hard to make her cum.

When he felt her come down fully from the high of her climax he pulled his fingers out and licked them clean. “Mmm. I love how you taste, Petal. Sweet.”

She let her thighs drop in fatigue and she lifted her hand to her sweating forehead. Her blissed expression made him grin.

“Fucking hell, Harry.” Her tummy clenched at his words.

Her hand grabbed his shoulder and he moved back on top of her pulling her into a chaste kiss. She could taste the tang of herself on his lips. His tongue slid against hers and he tasted of her. She moaned softly into his mouth. He pulled back, “You’re so beautiful.”

She bumped her nose into his. “Harry?”

He kissed her jaw, “Yeah, Love?”

“I want you inside of me. Please.” She sighed, pupils dilated. “I want to be close to you, Harry.”

“Are you sure?”

She mewled. “I want you so bad, Baby. Please.”

How could he say no to her? She was all sweet and whiny, and her naked in his bed. “Okay. I want that too.” 

He pecked her lips softly before pulling away. “Gimme one second.” 

He got up off the bed and moved over to his bedside table finding a box of matches and lighting the few candles he had there.

She giggled at him. “What are you doing?”

He just grinned, “Making it special, Lovie.” 

She felt her chest flutter and a big toothy grin made its way to her face. Harry knew that Y/n was more practical, he was the hopeless romantic out of the two of them. But he wanted to make Y/n feel special, he wanted to be sappy for her.

He got up again walking into his cupboard.

“What else are you up to back there?!” She said with a giggle. 

When he came back out he had a bag with something in it. It was hard for her to see because it was dark. She squinted trying to understand. 

“Hold on stay there.” He said nipping his lip, he grabbed a handful of contents from the bag. Before throwing them onto the bed around her.

She opened her eyes looking to her sides under the dim light, plucking one up in between her fingers. “Is that rose petals?”

“Yeah.” He smiled, scratching his neck nervously. “I know it’s cheesy, but I wanted you to feel special.”

She couldn’t believe he went to all that effort. 

“Anything else?” She prodded.

He smirked. “One more thing.” He pulled something out from behind his back. It was one of those cheap plastic roses and he put the stem in his teeth and raise his brows. 

She laughed loudly, gently pushing his shoulder. “You are so corny!”

He pulled the rose out of his mouth, offering it to her goofily, feigning a gentlemanly gesture. “Thank you for allowing me the pleasure of being the first. I feel so lucky. It’s truly a privilege.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh shoosh.”

“I’m serious. I know it’s silly, but I feel grateful that I can be with you in this way. You’re my best friend. You’re very special to me.” He said tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned into the warmth of his palm.

“You’re my best friend, H. I wouldn’t want anyone else to be my first. I trust you.”

He felt his heart swell and he moved back on top of her. His arms were straight beside her head. 

“Kiss me please.” She said breathily.

He moved his face closer, nose bumping into hers as he pecked her top lip. She met him in the kiss her hands glided over to his shoulders. Both their eyes fluttered shut. 

There was little urgency in their kiss, though Y/n felt herself ache for him but she felt no urge to rush him. Harry always liked to take his time. He used his free hand to slide down to her hip gently squeezing the flesh there. 

He started to scatter his kisses down along her jaw and nipped her ear. She sighed softly letting a moan slip in contentment. Her hands moved to his hair softly massaging his head. 

His kisses travelled further down to her neck and he sucked harshly against her nipping the soft skin, she hissed in pleasure and he licked back over the spot to soothe her. Her pretty sighs of contentment made him smile against her skin.

His lips grazed further down across her chest and he could hear the pounding of her heart. 

“Are y’nervous, Bun?” He asked, eyes looking up to meet hers.

She looked down at him. “A little but, I don’t need to be do I?”

“No, it’s just me.”

She smiled, moving a curl away from his forehead, “Just Harry.”

“Exactly, just me. But you know that if you wanna stop at any time you tell me. Or if it hurts, or for any reason just say it and I’ll stop. We can just cuddle, I won’t mind.” He replied. 

“I know, I will.” She said.

“Good girl.” He kissed her heaving chest as he moved further down lapping her nipple up into his mouth.

She squirmed her hips against the thigh that rested between her legs, he could feel how wet she was against his bare skin. “Ah,” She cried softly.

His free hand massaged the tit that wasn’t in his mouth softly. Her back arched into his touch. “Oh, Harry, you are so good at that. Fuck.”

He chuckled lightly moving back up to her face. “You ready?”

She nodded. “Mhmm.” 

He kissed her forehead in response, pulling off her.

“Where are you going?” She grabbed his arms. 

“To get a condom.”

“No, it’s okay,”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” 

He felt his prick twitch at her words.

“Okay.”

Her legs wrapped around his waist and he moved his free hand down to grab ahold of himself. She felt the head of his cock pulsating against her sensitive clit. “M’ gonna go slow, okay?”

She nodded, her chest heaving into his. “Mmkay.” She breathed.

He dragged the tip down to her weeping hole, hissing at the contact of it.

“You okay?” She asked.

He pressed his forehead into hers. “Yeah, you?”

She nodded. 

That was enough reassurance for him to start to slip inside, his cock was so heavy in need. Even though he had gotten her more comfortable and stretched for him with his fingers it still stung as he pushed inside. 

Only the head of him was inside and she already felt so stretched. 

“S’big.” She muttered.

He was going very slowly, his eyes trained on her face, and the pinched expression she was sporting. Worried that it was too painful. Knowing he was rather large. 

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it, and she squeezed back. “Keep going, please.” She said.

He nodded in reply, slowly pushing his hips further. She sighed in discomfort, feeling the veins of him against her. She clenched and he hissed. Pushing further, he felt his cock splitting her open.

He noticed her eyes were glassy and a tear slipped from her eye as she bit her lip.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked rushedly. 

She shook her head. “No, keep going, just stings a bit.” She tried to explain. 

“Are you sure?”

She nodded, “Mhm.”

He rocked forward and he felt him slip into her further. “M’nearly there, Love,” He soothed, kissing her temple.

When he rutted one final thrust his balls pressed against her ass. They both whimpered at the contact. 

Her eyes were dilated as she felt completely full of him. “Shit, Harry.” Her legs were wrapped around his lower back holding him close. 

“You’re so tight, fuck me,” He whined. She was clenching rythmically around his throbbing prick.

“You can move,” She knew that soon the pain would become pleasure, it would melt away soon, it was already beginning too.

He buried his face in the side of her neck, smelling her perfume and natural scent as he moans grew louder muffled by her shoulder. His thrusts began shallow and slow and she whined loudly. Her arms wrapped around the expanse of his back and she scratched along his shoulderblades.

He hissed at the pain, loving the sting.

“Harry,” She cried out when he started to speed up into her, ramming against her sensitive spongey spot that made her lose her mind, he was the only one who could reach that deep inside of her. She felt him all the way in her stomach. She was already sensitive from her previous orgasm and was keening at the feeling of his slow needy rutting.

He whined at the feel of her clamping down on him. “Fuck, Y/n.”

The pain had subsided to pleasure, the sting hardly noticeable now. She squeezed his shoulder, “Feels good, H.”

He started to speed up now, pounding into her at a ruthless speeed. “Shit, Baby, feel s’good on m’cock.”

He was needily moving into her, as his head remained buried by her neck breathing in the delicious sent of her. It had been a long time since he’d had sex and since he had only been with Y/n for these few months now he’d only had blowies or handjobs, which were great don’t get him wrong, but nothing and I mean nothing compared to her wet tight pussy. God, he’d dreamed of it. Nights and nights he’d lay awake dreaming of it. Dreamed of burying himself in there deeply, and the little sounds it would make.

He knew the right thing to do was to wait, and he was so glad he did. But it meant he was worried he might cum inside her already, the tension building all this time meant he was so pent up. He just wanted to release all his sexual frustrations from these past few months. She was so perfect against his cock, like it was made to wrap around him. 

“Like this pussy was made for me.” He rambled.

“I can feel you in my tummy, H.” She whined shutting her eyes, and he pulled up from her should moving his hand to press onto the now bulging flesh of her tummy. With each pump he felt her clench against his prick and saw the faint bulge of his cock. He could feel himself with each thrust, as they both moaned.

He moved that hand from her tummy down lower to her swollen clit that was begging for attention. Rubbing harsh circles and her hips twitched. “Oh god, Harry,”

He wanted to feel her cum on his cock, he was desprate for the feeling, he could already tell she was getting closer to the brink from the stimulation on her puffy senstive clit and his thick prick pounding into her. The clamping of her pussy was growing irregular and when his thrusts went particularly deep inside of her, her eyes rolled back.

She felt euphoric, this white blistering hot feeling was shooting through her from head to toe. 

She was honestly surprised how good he made her feel, when she was younger and all her friends were losing their virginities they told her it hurt and that it was awkward. Or that they didn’t cum, and there was no foreplay. She had expected that Harry would know what he was doing, but even that didn’t live up to this moment. She had also known that it may not be as pleasurable until later on but she was feeling like she was on cloud fucking nine.

“You’re so pretty, such a pretty little thing.” He mumbled as he placed some kisses down her neck and along her collarbone.

She mewled her back arching into him. “Oh, fuck,” she whispered with a slight disbeleif in her eyes, “think you’re gonna make me cum, Baby.” 

He watched her with a sultry grin, as her eyes screwed shut and the hands that were on his back started to scratch along the tan flesh once again much sharper. “Don’t stop,” She panted. 

“Such a good girl f’me. Y’gonna come on my cock?” He asked teasingly, with a pant.

She could only whine in response, biting her lip at the intensity. 

“Atta’ girl. Be a good girl and cum on m’cock.” He praised. 

She started to shake, the feeling of his fingers still on her clit was pushing her to her orgasm. Her tummy clenched and she couldn’t contain her hips from squirming up into his. This intense wave of bliss rushed through her as waves of pleasure melted from her chest to her stomach all the way down to her throbbing pussy that was wrapped around him. 

Her heart was thumping in her chest as her entire body twitched in delight and climax. His prick never stopped it's pounding as he let her orgasm ride out. It was longer than the first one and like nothing she had ever felt before. She’d only dreamt of this kind of pleasure and usually Harry was the one giving it too her. She felt like it was an out of body experience, her head became lightheaded and stars appeared in her vision. She hadn’t even heard her self crying out, until she came back too. 

He slowed down to allow her a moment to catch her breath. Her pussy felt so senstive that even these more gentle and tame strokes had her basically sobbing with pleasure. 

“I’m close, Sweet girl,” He hissed and he began to speed up once more now his thrusts were sloppy and an uneven rhythm. Her orgasm had made him lose any last bit of control he had.

She could barely speak she was so spent. “Please,” She didn’t know what exactly she was begging for.

He pushed his lips into hers and trapped her in a kiss, her hands found their way into his thick hair which was coated in a light dampness from sweat. She moaned against them and he was whimpering into her swollen lips. He pulled his lips off hers for a moment as he whimpered a desprate, “Gonna’ cum.”

She managed to breath out a soft, “Cum for me Harry,”

The delicacy of her voice made him lose it and he felt his cock twitch in release, hot spurts of his cum shot up inside her and she felt him fill her up completely. He whimpered the most despratelty she’d ever heard and his head fell into her neck. “Fuck,” He breathed. 

Her pussy was still clenched around him tightly. “That was…wow.”

She giggled. “That was perfect.”

He lifted up from her shoulder and captured her lips into a kiss. It was long and tender and much softer than then the urgent act they’d just comitted. He itched to say it, those three words, but all that came out was. 

“You’re gorgeous, Y/n.”

“Thank you, Harry,”

He kissed her forehead. “Come on, let's clean you up.”

if you enjoyed please follow me to see the next parts coming soon ily 🫶 feel free to check out my masterlist xxx & feel free to request me too!!

[bunnyteetharry]

Smart Girl

summary: harry comes and helps you during exam week at college with a happy twist

warnings: none?

pairing: fwb to lovers! + hockey player!arry (college based)

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“No”

“I didn’t even say anything yet”

“Harry….”

The person who you were trying to avoid this whole week was leaning against your dorm room door frame with a huge smirk across his face

and his pretty dimples out in the open

You groaned and rolled your eyes “I already know what you want, and it’s not gonna be with me tonight. Go find some other girl to fuck, i on the other hand am busy”. He hummed crossing his arms giving you that oh so deceiving look with his eyes. “Busy with what exactly” you opened your door more widely to point across the room to your bed that is littered with text books and flash cards, highlights scattered on the floor from you stress throwing and your trash can filled to the brim with paper balls.

“I can help” he smiled widely “And what’s your idea of helping? Sitting there and looking pretty?” His eyebrow rose “You think I’m pretty?” his smirk was bigger than ever “Are you gonna help or not because I have a big exam this week and I’m not gonna let anything distract me from it, especially you” his smirk faded into a more serious expression and walked into your room, setting his bag on the floor and flopping onto your bed, patting the spot next to him “Well, aren’t you going to study” rolling your eyes you shut the door behind you

this was going to be an eventful night

As surprising as it seems, Harry was actually the most helpful, didn’t even crack a sex joke in the past hour, which would immediately earn him a gold star in your book. “Another correct! see, you’re going to ace this” you gripped your hair roughly “But what if I don’t, what if all of this becomes pointless by the end of the day, what if I choke and waste time, and what if-“ the feeling of soft lips hits your quickly, with Harry’s hand wrapped around your neck “Stop over thinking this….you’re gonna do great, you’re my smart girl” his voice was soft, Harry’s voice has different levels, in the matter of different situations yet he always was like this with you, never lying to get this end of the bargain, always bringing you snacks after the end of your classes to make sure your well nourished, filling up your water bottle up even when it’s halfway.

You didn’t understand what was going on between the two of you, neither did he. But ever since 5 months ago, he’s been following you around like a puppy dog at you beck and call, being named the campus play boy he’s quite the opposite once you get to know him

Smart girl. That’s what he’s been calling you since your first met in English class, at first you though he was just another jock who needed help with his work and you’d be paid off to get it done for him but once you were assigned as partners for a project, you met another side of him not many get to see, not even his hockey team mates.

You slowly started hooking up 3 months in, what became weird was the looks you’ve been getting

why would anyone like him be with someone like you, with the pressure of not being good enough and exam week beating your ass, you couldn’t face him anymore

“Why have you been dodging me like the plague” you lips parted them quickly shut, not willing to give him a full answer “I can’t Harry” you sighed not even daring to meet his eyes. His hands went up to your face, moving it to where you can face him “Talk to me” those eyes….always getting you every time.

“I don’t know how to live up to your level, you’re so close to going pro, you were raised up in the suburbs, never having to worry about the things where I’m-“ his thumb crossed over your lips “You’re perfect, that’s what you are. You’re enough, doesn’t matter what people say, you’re it for me. Once you’re my girl officially, you won’t have to worry about a thing, I’ll take care of you.” He brought you in closer, nudging your noses together “Harry” he hummed “What my love, hmm?” you peppered kisses softly all over his cheeks “Is this your way of telling me you like me?” He laughed lowly “Was bringing you snacks after class, checking up on you when you’re having a bad day, bringing you coffee every morning and dodging every girl on this campus to rush over here to fuck you not enough to tell you that I’m obsessed with you?” you shrugged and joke “Mm I don’t know, you probably say that to all your other hook ups” he hummed and nodded

“I haven’t been with anyone else but you since the day we met” you smiled looking down and messed with your cuticles “Not me, Me and Niall…damn does that guy know how to-ow!” Harry pinched you “That’s not funny” you smiled laughing almost out of breathe “Mm it was pretty funny, especially seeing you already planning in your head on how to murder Niall”

He kissed you deeply with a strong grip on your waist and neck “Mine, My smart girl” he grumbled between kisses, you giggled brushing his cheek with the pad of your thumb softly “M’yours Harry”

“Good, now that that’s settled let’s go get something to eat” he smacked your ass as you both got off the bed “I need to eat before I fuck you” you scoffed and laughed “And you just decided that on your own just now” you picked up your bag, putting it over your shoulder “Mhm” he grabbed his keys and motioned you out the door.

a/n: got a little sloppy towards the end cause I was running out of ideas but overall I’m happy with the outcome! hope you enjoyed as well <33

[skullsuited]

drunk & high.

gif credit.

an lhh!era/fwb!harry imagine that is simply riddled with pure filth, wine consumption & marijuana smoking. inspired by true events.

smut warning: some heavy degradation/dirty talk, daddy kink, hair pulling, p-in-v sex. this is just straight up porn without plot.

Maybe it was the red wine, perhaps it was the fact that you’d both drunk almost the entirety of the bottle.

It could’ve been the joint you two smoked. Harry always has good weed, it continuously blows your mind how pure and strong it is. 

Whatever it was, it had led you to this very moment. Your feelings of undeniable lust and mutual appreciation for one another, along with your inebriation and intoxication had found a home in your bodies and the scene you were in would be burned into your memory for the foreseeable future.

Your lower half is exposed, leggings and underwear pulled down just enough so Harry has access to your core. “Please…” You whine submissively, lying on your stomach as anticipation courses through your veins. You want him so badly and the state of your mind is only making him look ten times sexier than you usually find him. 

Harry towers over you, growling with dominance and desire as he grips your hips with one hand and guides his cock into your cunt with the other, emerald eyes gazing down at you from above. 

It’s clear he wants you just as much as you want him.

Your jaw slackens as he pushes inside of you, a gasp leaving your throat as his cock stretches you out in the familiar, practiced way it always has. After a few years of exploring each other’s bodies, you both are knowledgeable in how to make one another moan or render each other absolutely speechless – though, he’s the one who usually has you doing those things. 

Harry’s quick to lie on top of you, his chest pressed to your back as he begins to thrust slowly, heavy breaths and soft grunts leaving his raspberry colored lips. Your eyes meet and his hand tangles in your hair to maneuver your head, lips meeting yours in a sloppy-sweet kiss. 

It’s brief, a gradually growing makeout session that only lasts a few seconds, but you take it for what it's worth. Then he really starts fucking you. His hands find your hips and his torso is no longer pressed to yours, but the sight above you is almost mesmerizing; head thrown back, features screwed up in pleasure and concentration and all you can do is gape at him, watch as he takes you, takes you like you belong to him and only him. 

Your eyes shut, too lost in the pleasure you’re receiving from the man hovering above you. 

“D-Daddy, oh…” You moan, body moving like the sea’s tide, allowing yourself to relax and simply be fucked by Harry. One of his hands tangles in your hair again, pulling at it before pushing your head into the mattress, a low groan rumbling in his chest. 

You both move in quick succession, the wine and the weed impairing time and heightening pleasure as your bodies mold to each other, forgetting about the outside world or your duties as adults. Right now, in the safe space of his bedroom, the only thing and only people that matter are you and him and the art you’ve both perfected when it came to being sexual partners. 

Harry pulls out of you briefly, flipping you both onto your sides before pushing back into you. You can feel how wet you’ve gotten his cock, how wet you’ve gotten as he resumes fucking you, thrusting with fervor. His right arm is wrapped around your chest, keeping you pressed to his own, while his left hand is anchored to your waist, pulling your ass into him. 

“L-love taking your c-cock.” You speak, words broken by ecstasy. 

His lips are near your ear, “Yeah, take this cock you fucking cockslut.” 

Your hand finds its way in between your legs, preoccupying your fingers with rubbing your clit in fast, small circles. “Oh my God, oh my God…”

“Gonna cum for me, darling? Hm? Are you goin’ to cum on Daddy’s cock?”

“Yes- yes, fuck, Harry.” You babble, your free hand clawing at the arm he’s got wrapped around your chest. You aren’t quite sure how much time has passed since you initially started your tryst, but you do know that your impending orgasm is approaching rather quickly. “Want- want your cum. Want you to cum inside me.” You add, hopefully spurring his own release on. 

“Yeah? You want my cum?”

You nod jerkily, body shaking as your orgasm draws nearer. You are so close, but you don’t want to cum without him.

“Then take it.” Harry growls and before your brain can register it, you feel his cock throb inside you, his thrusts slowing as he empties himself. The feeling alone sends you into overdrive, your own release crashing down on you with intensity as you tense up, moaning his name like a mantra. 

“That’s it. S’ a good slut.” He murmurs, thrusting his hips languidly into you, fucking you slowly through your orgasm. Your fingers cease their movements once Harry stops his, your hand falling away from your clit. 

You both go quiet, breathing heavily as your climaxes dissipate and you wade in the post coital bliss. Harry pulls out of you gently before settling on his back, pulling your body into his. Your head rests on his chest and a smile pulls at your lips as his arm wraps around you, holding you close. 

“Can we do this again?” You ask, nuzzling your face into his chest a bit.

“I don’t see why not.” He replies. 

You nod, silence slipping over the moment as sleep pulls you both under. 

Perhaps getting drunk and high with Harry would become a whole new adventure.

[violetsandfluff]

H0RNY

Loveee this picture of Harry 😩😩😩😵‍💫

TW: smut and horniness, no actual sex. I know I just did a virgin!y/n thing about Harry but…………. Consider this the prequel to that. Harry helps y/n get herself off bc she’s waiting til marriage. Smut, horniness, masturbating, language, etc.

“Hazza?” Y/N’s soft voice broke the silence, panic was evident in her tone.

“What’s wrong, Y/N? What happened?”

“I feel weird.” she shifted, rubbing gently against the arm of the couch.

Harry rotated on the basement couch to look at her. “Are you sick?”

“No… well maybe. I don’t know,” she whined and Harry placed a hand to her forehead.

“You don’t seem sick,” he mused. “What does it feel like?”

You described the sensation in vivid detail and his cheeks heated up with realization.

“What’s wrong with me?” she moaned tearfully as Harry licked his lips and responded slowly, “Tell me more?”

“It hurts… down there. It doesn’t quite hurt… it’s burning… throbbing, that’s it.”

“You’re horny.” The words fell like bricks into her ears.

“What?”

“Horny, sweetie. It’s when you-“

“ ‘Kay, Harry, I get it.” she snapped in annoyed disbelief.

“What made you horny, Y/N?” he had to ask.

“Well,” she began nervously, chewing her bottom lip. “You were holding me really close and whispering to me… and I know we’re just friends. And I’m sorry. But the …”

“I got you all bothered?” Harry couldn’t hide his proud grin. “Woah. I thought a girl like you would have higher standards!”

“Nope. Low as hell,” she couldn’t help but joke around with him. “I don’t know why but it was so fvcking sexy and I thought it was butterflies but then they went down.”

“Wow.” Harry began nervously moving his hands around. “Do you still want to wait until marriage or… do I need to teach you how to get yourself off?”

“You mean, masturbate?”

“Well… yes,” Harry settled finally.

“How often do you masturbate?” you couldn’t help but ask, laughing when his face reddened.

“Questions about my sex life, hm? My, you’re getting gutsy.” he smirked, looking directly into her concerned eyes and causing the throbbing to advance. “Every week or so… sometimes more often than others.”

“Oh.” Another panicked thought entered her naïve mind. “What if my parents find us…”

“Do you use tampons?”

“No,” she replied slowly, stroking her ponytail. “Never tried putting anything up there.”

“Does your mom?” He quickly emphasized when he saw your face. “Well obviously,” he chuckled. “You exist, don’t you?”

You erupted into choking laughter and he shushed you.

“Does your mom use tampons, I meant? Your sister?”

“My sister does,” she said quickly.

“Can you get one from her?”

“I’ll see.” She started up the basement stairs, in a mission. Her dad was in the kitchen making dinner and he questioned where she were going in such a rush and she just laughed it off, saying she needed a phone charger.

She returned from her sister’s room charger-free, but tampon in hand. She brought it proudly to Harry and dropped it in his cupped hands.

“Good dog. You fetched!” He snickered. “Do you want a cookie? Or a bone, I should say.”

“Ha-ha. You’re hilarious,” she grumped. “Now look at it, will that do?”

Harry opened the package and analyzed the tampon intently. “It’s thick,” he noticed. “Does it have to be?”

“They make ultra-thin ones now,” she said. “But that was the smallest one my sister had.”

“It will make do,” he placed it back into her smaller hand. “Now, what you need to do is to put it up in there and move it around. A specific spot—your g-spot—will feel amazing. Shove it back into that place until you cum. Sound good?”

Her cheeks reddened. That sounded horrible. “Wait, where is my g-spot?” She was also comically appalled that her best friend was practically teaching her how to fvck herself.

“You’ll find it. Also, go in the shower so you don’t mess up the floor.”

“What does an orgasm feel like?”

“Y/N, go.” Harry commanded. “You’ll figure it out.”

She walked stiffly into the bathroom, not wanting to irritate her throbbing pussy. She was terrified of shoving an object into herself to get off, but here she was.

She was afraid it would either hurt, or Harry was fvcking with her about being horny at all. Still, she removed her pants and underwear, stepped into the shower and gripped the tampon firmly. She wiggled it in, testing how deep it could go.

In and out? Around and around? What had Harry said?

It was pleasantly less painful than she had expected, but she couldn’t get over the fact that her best friend had gotten her horny.

The sensation she experienced when she finally got better was unexplainable. She had never dreamed that such a feeling could exist. She sat down, still half naked, on the toilet, put her head in her hands and laughed to herself.

Breathing hard, she threw the tampon away and put on her clothes. She walked out of the bathroom, the carpet squishing between her toes.

“How was it?” Harry looked up from his phone to examine her. “Did it help?”

She nodded slowly before wrapping her arms around him in a strong embrace.

“Careful,” he warned jokingly. “Don’t want anything else to happen to ya, do we?”

She continued hugging him and he felt an all-too-familiar feeling surge through his body. “Let’s just try and ignore each other for a minute,” he suggested. “We’ll feel better.”

“What do you mean?” She asked quizzically and he rolled his eyes. “Horny fiend,” he grunted. “You know damn well.”

[daaydreamy]

11 with fwb harry :))

𓄹𓈒 11 - “are you sick?”

“Are you sick?” Harry furrowed his brows when he looked at Y/N. She wasn’t looking all that great and he got a bit concerned. She had called him over for no reason, and he had no reason to decline, so he came over.

“Yeah.” She sighed and sat down on the couch. “Sucks.” She added on, taking a sip from the cup of tea she made for herself while waiting for Harry to come over. Her forehead was hot and she couldn’t stop coughing and sneezing and she just felt… bad. She called Harry over because she was lonely and absolutely hated being sick and hoped that maybe having him there would make her feel better.

“You could’ve told me. Would’ve brought food over.” He bit the inside of his cheek.

She smiled softly at him, “It’s okay. Just kinda wanted you here anyway.”

Harry nodded, trying not to smile. His cheeks grew a bit warm though. It was nice that she just wanted him there with her. Like she was thinking he would make her feel better. They were also friends with benefits, and he was growing a bit worried that he was falling for her.

Actually, he was falling for her.

But she didn’t know that.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

fwb!part 2 (Secret little rendevous) will be out on Friday, 10:30 am CST

[1800titz]

SURPRISE SURPRISE! New Camprry FWB one shot coming TOMORROW (1/29) at 2 PM EST

“Come on,” Harry goads, tutting like her tries are half-assed and she’s not currently exerting her body into creating motions that are simply unrealistic, “Take it proper. You want it? Then take it. Show me.”

Camping is supposed to be wholesome. Camping is supposed to be laughter, and deep, pure breaths of air that scrub out the tainted glaze of city life from the walls of your lungs, sticky like cigarette smoke residue on the walls in a house. It’s hiking boots stuffed with the thickest socks. It’s marshmallows on twigs over curdling flames that lick up, it’s flashlights, and spooky myths and legends verbalized, and more laughter.

Instead, Y/N is camping, and she’s currently barely grinding over inches of Harry’s cock.

“I can’t,” she grits out, frustrated, but it sounds more like a whine than anything with bite.

“You can’t? Sure you can, pet,” Harry grapples over her hip, bracing on one arm in an impressive showcase of athleticism, and manually rakes her hips back over him. It allows for more — more of him, more of his cock, more of his touch. More of him splitting her open and spreading her apart over him. “Just like this, right?”

She’s sure he must be meeting her at least a quarter, if not halfway, though. It all feels like a devious ploy. Y/N whines. He makes this amused sound then, one of those puffs expelled through his nostrils like a half-laugh, accompanied with a hum. And then he pulls out and pumps his hips forward, until he’s flush to her backside, and then reverses and repeats. Three times. He gives her three, good, long, full thrusts, smoothing out to the tip and in to the root until she’s stuffed, just like he’d promised. Then, he presses in all the way and just basks in her heat.

“Better?” Harry asks, but his tone catches on a quiet grunt and wavers in its prior composure. She squeezes over him, really squeezes, and he muffles a groan with the seal of his mouth. For a second, he doesn’t say anything at all, and then the filth spills again. It’s odd how patronizing he can sound, despite the way her cunt so obviously affects him, “Need Daddy to do all the work, is that it?”

[mouthfulloftoothpasterry]

I want to answer more concepts but I also want to sleep so I have a solution, send in whatever concepts you want and I’ll answer them when I wake up every single hour to pee 😃

[eveningepiphany]

innocent | H.S oneshot

my masterlist

summary: while on the couch, harry ends up with innocent y/n on his lap, and she gets unexpectedly very worked up over his thigh being under her, and he does something about it.

warnings: SMUT! thigh riding, dirty talk, handjob (m receiving), best friend! harry, and a whole lot of praise kink.

requested by @shqtteredcrystql1

a/n: i absolutely love this request. thank you so much to the lovely user above who pmed me with it. <3

———

You shake your head at yourself.

You had not thought any of this would lead to you feeling so suddenly.. needy. But it has?

You were sitting in the lounge room of the beach house you were staying in, watching a movie with Harry while both parts of your family had gone out for the evening.

You and Harry had opted to stay back. The crowded bars being not your vibe for the night, and wanting to just chill out at the house for a while.

The movie was not long beginning in the background on the TV, with bags of half eaten snacks resting on the wooden coffee table— not that you could see any of it, as it was to the back of you.

It started when Harry and you fought over the blanket on the couch.

Pulling it off eachother just to be difficult, and roughhousing until he proposed a quick solution when your fingers started prodding his rib cage as pay back.

“C’mere— c’mere!” He rushed out, hands up in defeat as you technically won the mini physical brawl. Even though you know if he really wanted to win, he would a hundred times over, given his strength.

You went still and frowned as he didn’t follow up with a verbal explanation, and just held hands out for you to come to.

“Why?” You said, slightly amused.

“Because.” He stated.

So you moved forward to him, his hands coming in contact with your hips, and seizing you forward.

Bringing you seated in his lap.

“I can’t actually watch the movie, H.” You flush at your positioning. His hands still bracketing your waist like it’s nothing.

Which you’re confused why you’re reacting like this.

This has never happened to you with anyone else. Only ever with Harry.

And it’s not the first time it’s happened with him. You get big feelings often when he’s near you. They come out of nowhere, when he touches you gently during conversation, or when he flashes you a dimple in his smile.

And this warm feeling will swell in your chest, bubble down into your stomach… and sometimes further. It will simmer down in between your legs.

Leaving you with this feeling of being hot and bothered, in a completely foreign way.

Usually it’s only faint. A quick, fleeting feeling for you. However you’ve never had yourself situated on his lap.

His strong and muscly thigh straight underneath you— mostly bare, his shorts riding up to leave the hair dusted skin visible. His tiger tattoo hidden under you.

“Sorry, want to turn around?” He asks with a teasing lilt in his voice.

Your head snaps up from where you were looking at where your body met his— your pupils blown out a little.

Your eyes lock with his, and your reminded that this is your harry.

Your favourite person. Your best friend. Who has pretty green eyes, paired chocolatey brown curls that fall over them, and frame his gorgeous face.

Who smiles at you like this all the time, like you’re also his favourite person.

“Well i did want to watch 10 things I hate about you, instead of listening to it.” Your hands are resting on his shoulders, and he lets out a chuckle at your gentle quip.

“Alright, darling, let’s turn you around.” He laughs at you, rotating your body himself— handling you so that your facing the screen, your back plastered to the hard wall of his chest.

The new position evokes a flutter from your core, one completely unexpected to you.

And you’re hyperaware that there’s very little separating his leg from the sudden heat between yours, just a thin pair of sleep shorts.

“Better?” He asks casually into your ear, pulling the blanket to cover your laps.

“Yea, thank you.” You breathe out, sounding a little airy.

Your eyes find the screen, but your wholly distracted by his body.

His thumb circling your hip, the gentle breath from his nose hitting the back of your neck, and again, his thigh underneath you.

Your heart is stuttering.

You’re so— confused?

He’s your best friend. You know that, and you’re not sure why you’re feeling like this. If it’s normal?

Another concern of if he can feel it. Feel you.

The heat radiating from you.

You zone out a little, eyes locked on the movie screen. Eventually your breathing evening out for the most part, as you adjust to what was happening.

Focusing momentarily on the comfort of your surroundings. Harry practically enveloping you, the feeling of the couch pillows warm and soft around you.

The gentle hum of the waves crashing from the nearby ocean, sounding through the cracked open window.

Which the breeze being carried through it is just the right temperature, and just strong enough to have the candle flames flickering on top of he TV cabinet.

There’s a warm glow cast across the room from the array of candles, and salt lamp turned on in the corner.

Everything about it was homely, and comforting. And you tapped into the euphoric amount of bliss that surrounded you.

After a few minutes, Harry moved, shuffling his hips back to prop himself up.

His thigh underneath you dragging your thin sleep shorts along your centre, the pressure of his muscles rippling as he adjusted with your weight atop him causing an unbelievably pleasurable feeling to strike through you.

A whine slips past your lips before you can even stop it. The desperate sound filling the room, and it’s too late to take it back. Because you know he’s heard it with the way he stills immediately.

Embarrassment starts to flicker through you hardly a second later.

“Y/N?” He seems to almost whisper from behind you.

“God— sorry— I don’t know… I don’t know why that happened.”

He laughs, the sound golden and dipped in honey as it enters your ears, “Did you just moan?”

“No!” Your skin is flaming as you deny quickly.

He pushes his leg up to press into you again, and you purse your lips together as you try so hard not to let a sound out, or roll your hips instinctively against him.

You fail with the latter of those two things, your body pushing into his leg before you can even try to stop it.

“Hm, what’s gotten you all worked up, darling?” He let’s his hands run up along the side of your rib cage, and is admittedly very curious to what your feeling right now.

He was surprised at first, but fuck, your innocent little whimper has him feeling like he’s got a point to prove.

And he wants so badly to have you come undone under his touch.

“I— fuck…” you lean your head back into his shoulder, unable to form words.

His eyes skate down the profile of your gorgeous face, and further along your arched body.

“Want me to do something about the heat between those legs of yours, baby? Can feel how hot and bothered you are.”

“Harry…” you sigh out as you begin to give into the situation, “please.”

“Alright lovely, since you’re rubbing yourself all over my leg, keep going.”

You frown a little— well it feels good as far as your concerned now. But your unsure how to just continue.

“Here,” he turns you around again, and for a second smiles at your flushed and flustered face.

All the sudden the eye contact has you tingling again, his face enough to have you a mess in his hands.

His hands guide yours to rest on his shoulders, and then his own slide back down to your hips.

“Now, just keep doing what you were before hm, rub yourself on my thigh okay?”

He watches as you experiment with the movement, rolling forward on with your body and moaning at the sensation that it evokes in you.

“Oh.“ you grind against him again, harder this time.

“Oh—“

You clench, and he pushes his leg up into you with a moan from himself as he feels your cunt clamping around nothing.

“Fuck, y’gonna tell me why you’re so wet?” He grabs the back of your neck so you’re looking at him.

“I don’t know…” you whine, humping along his thigh. The thin fabric of your shorts going damp from your arousal.

“Your thighs. Your hands. You.” You speculate aloud, watching his pupils blow out with desire.

“My thigh under your cunt get you all worked up?”

“Yes— yes!” You groan out, jaw falling lax as your clit gets caught just right between the shorts and his thigh.

“Baby, take the shorts off. Wanna feel y’soak onto my leg.”

You hardly hear him, still pushing onto him until he physically has to lift you up.

He chuckles as you whine at the absence of contact.

“Tell me, Y/N, Is this okay?” He confirms, pulling your leg from in between his, so now you’re laying practically bridal style in his arms.

“Please. Take them off.” You nod eagerly, back arching in his hold.

He laughs, hair falling again across his brow.

“Let me savour this okay. Look too pretty for your own good.” He mumbles, leaning down to let his lips meet the skin of your neck.

You groan as he sucks the skin into his mouth, and his hand skates up the hem of your shirt, running between the valley of your braless breasts.

“If you need to stop,” he licks over the skin on your neck he was just abusing with his teeth, “let me know, love.”

“I won’t, please keep going…”

You hiss as his hand wraps around your tit, letting his finger tweak the peak of your nipple before running it back down, past your belly button to settle between your still covered pussy.

“Where were we,” he hums gently, rubbing you over your soaked through shorts.

“Off, Harry, please.” Your sentences weren’t properly formed, and you scraped your nails down the muscle of his tattooed bicep.

“God, listen to you. Can you hear how whiney your pretty voice sounds?”

He says it in such a way it sounds like a compliment. The typical connotation of whiney being negative. But he says it like you’re an angel for it.

He peels your shorts down your legs, and audibly groans at the sight of your naked cunt in front of him.

“I should’ve known you didn’t even have a pair of panties on.” He gently taps over your bare clit, and the light touch still has you squirming.

He rubs you a little, allowing the pads of his fingers to tease your entrance. Not before man handling you back on top of his thigh.

Your blindsided by how amazing everything feels.

“Alright darling, use me. Grind that wet little cunt on my thigh to get off.” His words have you fluttering around nothing, and him feeling your bare entrance clenching atop his skin makes his already hard cock twitch beneath the waistband of his shorts.

His hand comes down to palm over himself, delivering a gentle squeeze to try and relieve some of the pressure down there.

You pant as you resume a relatively fast pace, aided by the fact your arousal is dampening his leg. Making it easier to slide yourself on.

“Mmm, god. It feels so good!” You moan out, hands coming to his shoulders to brace yourself.

“So does your pussy on my leg, baby. You’re so wet for me. Who would have thought my little Y/N would get so worked up over sitting on my thigh of all things.” He praises, hands coming to cup the swell of your ass

“No one’s ever— fuck— made me feel like this.” You cry, the stimulation along your clit euphoric.

“Ever, huh?”

You nod, “Ever.”

He could just moan at the thought. That his sweet thing is completely foreign to sexual experiences with other people. That you got all wet on his thigh and had no idea why.

The idea that you weren’t sure why you were trying so hard not to push your pussy onto him. And that you’re probably so sensitive down there, so reactive.

That last one has him struggling not to place you on that coffee table and fuck your hole with his tongue.

He only held back because the sight of your riding his thigh was indescribably hot.

“Good girl f’me, let me help you, make y’come all on my thigh.” He hummed, pushing his leg up to add some more pressure on your clit.

“Harry!” Your pretty voice moaned out as his hands came to guide your hips, to push them faster and harder against his skin.

The control he was taking over you was enough to make you almost drip. Because even if he was so gentle about it, it was insane.

He pushed your bucking hips down, and his leg up, making a delicious pressure that had an unfathomable heat simmer between your legs.

“I wanna come on your leg, Harry, please…” you’re pleading him, hips messily fucking over his skin.

“Yea, baby? My perfect little slut.” He tests out the nickname, watching as your whole body reacts with a quiver at his dirty mouth.

“Oh, you really do like it dirty…” he realises out loud, smirking as you moan.

“Look down at your cunt riding my leg, humping all over it.” He gently laces his hand in your hair, tilting your head down, “How about when you’re done, I get you on your knees and make you clean it up?”

Your mouth goes slack, and it’s baffling to hear such words coming from him.

Yet he could ask you to do anything at this point and you’re convinced you wouldn’t even hesitate before doing it.

“I will, I will!” You nod, thighs quivering on each side of his own.

“Cmon pretty, fuck,” he bucks into his hand that was stroking over his fabric-clad cock, “wanna watch you come. Hear you cry out my name.”

Your clit was pulsing along his now drenched tattoo, and you could feel your muscles tightening in your stomach.

The simmering feeling in your core that you had originally started with has turned into a pot that was about to boil over.

“Harry, ohmygod—“ you whined, falling further into his chest, hands coming up to intertwine with his hair.

He pushed his thigh up against you, and the pressure finally peaked, and you teetered on the brink of orgasm.

You were moaning into his ear, and he could feel your pussy clenching around nothing, waiting for that final little nudge.

“Good fucking girl, let it all go f’me.” He growls into your ear, accent husky, and the words zip straight to where you needed it.

You let out a loud moan of his name, nails dragging down along his shoulders as you messily grind through the pleasure.

He is groaning at the sight. Just as fucking beautiful as he imagined.

Your back arched, and he could feel your cunt pulsating around his leg. It was filthy, and he loved every damn second of it.

“Oh, god— harry, please!” You whimpered, your core jutting against him still, but now with slower more irratic movements.

“That’s it, ride it out on me love. Fuck.” He curses as you absentmindedly drag your lips down the column of his neck.

You slowly come to a stop, the stimulation too much for you now. And your panting as you pull back to look at Harry, and the mess you made atop his thigh.

You lock eyes with him, his hair is messy, and cheeks are flushed. You smile at him, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on his also smiling lips.

You glance down between your legs, spotting immediately the glistening skin of Harry’s leg, and how his finger reaches to get a sample and bring it to his lips.

Watching, he sucks his finger into his mouth, humming at the taste of you on his tongue.

“Taste like a dream, my darling.”

He gathers some more on the same finger, bringing it up to your own lips, letting you suck on them.

“Mm, good isn’t it? Look so good with your mouth wrapped ‘round m’fingers.” He praises, eyes darkening at the sight of your lips sucking his long digits.

You slide off them, taking in his beautiful appearance again. How the warm glow of the lounge room light is casting over his tan skin.

You’re still a little muddled about everything that just occurred. And that the little crush that’s always festered in your head when it comes it Harry has just led you here.

Him being the first person to ever see your pussy, and make you come. On his thigh of all places.

“Thank you…” you flush, a little shyness coming out.

“Don’t get shy with me baby, just watched y’come on my thigh. No room for that.” He smiles, pulling you into his chest.

“Now,” he begins again, stroking the small of your back, “let’s go get cleaned up before everyone suddenly comes home to you still half-naked on my lap.”

You laugh a little as he pecks your cheek, “then we can come back to the couch, and rewind 10 things I hate about you and share some ice cream, m’kay?”

“And uhm, what about you?” You gesture to the tent in his shorts.

“Worry about that another time, alright lovely. Not tonight, that was all for you.” He confirms.

“It’ll just… go away?” You frown, confused— and a little embarrassed you didn’t know what would happen with it.

“Should mostly. Might still have a semi, since all I’m gonna be able to think about is what y’taste like. But again, you can worry about me another day.”

You shake your head, “i want to worry about you now though…”

He blinks slowly, “Fuck, well if you keep bloody begging me to get y’hands on my cock, I’m not gonna be strong enough to tell ya no.”

“Never, uh, done this before. As long as that doesn’t put you off.” You shrug, watching his green eyes flick between your hand and his erection.

“Don’t stress, darling. I have been pretty much about to come at the sight of you, I don’t think it’s gonna take much.”

“And for the record,” he rests a hand on your hip, “nothing could put my off of you. Especially when it comes to you touching me.”

You nod, slowly. Still a little unsure as you reach down to pull the waistband of his shorts from his laurel-adorning hips.

He lifts his hips so you can pull them down, far enough that his cock springs out of them.

Your lips parted at the sight, his flushed tip, with beads of precum seeping out, blotting along down his shaft.

His cock was as gorgeous as you’d imagined. Because of course a pretty boy like him would have such a nice cock.

Not that you have much to judge off, but if the smooth skin and the sudden overproduction of saliva in your mouth was any inkling… you would say he was perfect.

Your hand reached to stroke along him, noticing the lack of lubrication.

You put to use the gathering pool of spit in your mouth, and you pursed your lips to let some of it drop down onto his tip.

He had a whole body reaction as he felt your warm spit slip down the head of his cock. A moan sounded from him, and he sounded like an angel.

“Fuckkk, already spitting on my cock. Little minx y’are.” His eyes went half lidded, and he fought to keep them open. Just to watch your all too curious expression and your hands glide over his cock.

“Faster?” You asked, looking for advice.

“Squeeze it, baby. Then stroke it.” He directed, struggling to form the words.

Then struggling even more not to cry out as you did just as he asked.

“Y/N.” He hissed, bucking his hips up as you started stroking his cock with a moderate pace.

“You look very pretty.” You meekly stated, admiring the way his face has flushed and lips have parted all from your touch.

You speed up your hands, watching intensely as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth in attempt to control himself.

“My god, your hands…” He moans, arm coming to drape over his forehead as he rolled his hips into your warm hand.

You took liberty to swipe your thumb over his tip, and your eyebrows raising as his whole body shudders.

“To know you’re fucking my cock with your spit and your hand.” He sighs out, heat building in his stomach.

“Can I touch here too?” Your hand gently ghosts over where his balls are, and you’re not sure if that’s somewhere he wants you to touch.

“Fuck yes, baby. Ohhh god, I’m gonna come so fast.” He is moaning suddenly without care as you massage him attentively.

Dragging your hands back up to his cock, you continue to stroke and rub along him.

“Want to see you finish too…” you smile, also excited to see the way his body reacts when he comes.

“Cant wait to paint your hand in my fuckin’ come.” He pants, hand gripping the couch cushion near his head.

He can probably feel you getting wet on him again. Seeing him like this has you a mess.

“Fuck— any faster and I’m gonna come on your hand Y/N.” He moans, now his thighs being the ones trembling.

You fuck his cock with your fist faster, in awe of the way he moans out as his orgasm hits him.

Ropes of his warm come spurting out his tip, spilling down your hand as you keep up the pace.

Waiting until he whines with the overstimulation.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He shakes his head, blissed out from his orgasm.

Hazily taking in the way you lick a stripe up your thumb, where his come had landed.

You enjoyed the flavour of it, salty and overall pleasant on your tastebuds.

“Can I?” You leant down, wanting more off his cock.

“God, love— wanting to clean the come off my damn cock it tasted that good.” He praises you, letting your mouth gently slide over his softening dick.

You make quick work of the mess, and he remarks shortly, “fuck, gonna have to spend some more time later with your mouth wrapped around me. You’re like an angel.”

Once you’re done, you pull his shorts back over him and watch him smile, dragging you in for another soft kiss— regardless of whether his dick was just in your mouth.

“Alright pretty, let’s get cleaned up before you start grinding anymore on my thigh. Can feel you already getting wet again.”

“Yes, Harry.” You whisper, letting him pick you up and carry you to the bathroom.

———

[ginevrapng]

𝐈'𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃

pairing: fwb!james x reader

word count: 1.5k words

warnings and contents: for my friends with benefits james there is no smut asdfghjkl, hurt, jealousy, FLUFF

you're sitting in the great hall eating breakfast and you spot james across the hall with all the other gryffindors. you're unable to stop your lip quirk upwards as you hear his boisterous laugh, which you guess is due to some joke or prank he's retelling.

your small smile drops as you see lily evans walk up the marauders. you've never had a problem with her, she is a popular gryffindor that is friendly and works well to get top marks but the way she's walking up to the marauders, looking at james determined and with a mission, fills you with slight dread. if you were completely honest you felt she spent more time with james then necessary, especially considering how they've got their own friends and how many times she turned him down in the past.

the hall is already pretty quiet due to everyone already have eaten and a lot of people stop their conversations or lower their voices as they see lily go up to james. everyone in every house knows that's irregular. for the previous years of hogwarts james followed lily everywhere like a lost puppy always asking her out and coming up to her but he had stopped. no one knew why. it was because of you.

because the hall became so silent you heard what evans asked james and you wished the hall was louder, you wished you didn't hear, you wish you were somewhere else, anywhere else, you started to become sick as she asked james if he's free this weekend to go to hogsmeade. "i don't know, i think remus has to study but i know sirius and peter are free too. are all the other girls going?" at that moment it's hard to tell if he's actually oblivious or if he knows exactly what she's asking him but he's choosing not to answer. he has a smile on his face but even from a distance it looks a bit forced to you.

if you were anyone else you would lean to the fact he's being oblivious but you're not anyone, people always underestimate james and you have a feeling james knows exactly what she's actually asking but for some reason he's pretending that he has no clue what she means but you don't know why he'd do that. james is kind and wouldn't want to embarrass someone so publicly but at the same time you're unsure of why he'd be so sure of turning her down but the fact that he is does makes you incredibly happy, you won't tell him that though.

"oh, i don't actually know what the girls are doing. i meant just us two. like on a date?" lily asks him, not wavering at all even with what james has previously said.

james sighs under his breath. "i've got things to do, you should go with someone else."

"what about another weekend?" lily asks, hopeful and you don't blame her for that, anyone would be hopeful asking out someone who in the past asked them out every other day.

"lily, i'm sorry if i'm hurting your feelings but i don't want to go on a date with you," he tells her and you can see that he's trying to be as nice as he can be in a situation like this. no one caught on to the fact that james said that he's only sorry that he's hurt her feelings, he's not sorry for not wanting to date her though, like it's not even an option on my mind, he's not entertaining the thought about going on a date with her, you don't catch on, lily doesn't, the marauders don't, no one does.

everyone is stunned, they thought for sure he'd say yes, he has been pining after her for so long and most people just thought he started playing hard to get, giving her some distance until she recognises how much she misses him but that wasn't true at all. lily never crosses his mind anymore, why would she? he has you. you're all he thinks about. yeah at one point he fancied lily but he loves you.

after a couple beats lily replies with an, "oh, alright then. i guess i'll see you in the common room." this time it's lily that forces a smile. james doesn't respond. she has just been rejected and it's making her feel dejected, not only does james not want to go on a date with her but he doesn't want to hang out with her either. the whole time she thought this was some ploy from james to get her attention but she realised she was wrong. he has no interest in her at all.

as soon as lily's out of earshot and going out of the great hall you hear the loud voices of james' friends. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT PRONGS? DON'T YOU WANT LILY ANYMORE?"

"that was mean james, you didn't have to reject her in front of everyone."

"YOU DON'T WANT EVANS? I CAN'T BELIEVE IT. I NEVER THOUGHT THIS DAY WOULD COME. CAN I GO FOR HER?"

"i've got to say i'm surprised to prongs, i never thought you'd shut lily down like that. she really does like you and if this is some trick to get her to like you more, don't do it. she talks about you a lot."

james interrupts his friends knowing this could go on all morning and knowing that you're definitely hearing all this, worried you might be getting the wrong idea. "you can go for her pads, it's none of my business." they all look even more shocked as they hear this but he carries on, "i have no interest in lily whatsoever, yes i used to but i moved on from that. i didn't try to be mean peter but she wasn't taking a hint, i kept trying to tell her no and to let her down gently and moony honestly you shouldn't be surprised if anything it's more surprising that this hasn't happened sooner, me and lily have absolutely nothing in common and we can barely hold a conversation together that last more than ten minutes."

they're all rendered speechless at james as they realise he is 100 percent serious about this. no matter if lily chases james just like he chased her his answer will always be the same, no.

in james' eyes lily doesn't hold a candle to you.

he flicks his eye to where you're sitting and you briefly make eye contact. james was feeling in a bit of a negative mood after what happened but that immediately changed when he glances at you to see that you're already looking at him. you see a stupid grin appear on his face, uncontrolled and automatic, you quickly look down knowing that you've been caught watching him. as you're looking down you smile at the whole situation. james told lily no, and he said it so certain like nothing could change his mind. that absolutely stopped the sicky feeling you had. no one would notice you smiling as you're looking away from everyone but james knew that's what you'd be doing.

james wants to grab your face and lift it up so you're looking at each other again, he already misses your face and the colours of your eyes and it's only been a second since you've looked away from him. he wants to see your bashful smile as you try to look away from him again but he'll just place hundreds of kisses all over your face instead. he wants to desperately tell you that lily doesn't mean anything to him, you have gotten jealous on occasion due to lily even if you deny it, hopefully this might help. he wants to tell you that there's nothing to be jealous about. although you both know that he'll likely tease you about how you was "staring" at him the whole time when he turned down lily.

"what the fuck are you grinning about james?" remus asks, he seems the most annoyed with james about how he handled the situation, remus and lily are study buddies so they are actually good friends and he's known for awhile how lily has felt about james he's just always thought james still feels the same way, he thought it was mutual.

james snaps out off his thoughts of you, not wanting the marauders to question him about you. "nothing important," james replies, not looking back at you.

he hopes that he'll have the chance to talk to you today, even if it's for five minutes. maybe you'll talk about your plans for the weekend and you can try and find time to get together, maybe you'll tease him and say lily invited you to hogsmeade while you were at dinner.

[tsumtsumrry]

Favorite Holiday

this follows harry and a cutie (you) through some of your favorite holidays as you guys navigate a little fun friends with benefits/situationship stitch. i feel like this took forever so sorry for my near disappearance but i hope you enjoy!! <3

**disclaimer** i'm american so i have the dates (e.g. 11/24/23) month/day/year format. just to avoid any confusion!! <3

WC: 12k.

warning(s): afab descriptions and she/her pronouns, language, multiple instances of smut (fingering, phone sex, f receiving oral use of a vibrator, unprotected don't do it p in v), barely proofread cause i was too excited to finally post it, and a bit of angst.

March 20th, First day of Spring.

The holidays were always your favorite time of year. Every single one for that matter. Every holiday has its own special place in your heart. New Years, Easter, Christmas, etc. You loved them all the same. But you looked forward to them even more so this year. Because this year you had Harry. 

Harry, who was sitting across from you right now, laughing as he animatedly tells one of his horrible but adorable jokes. You have the stupidest grin on your face, with your eyes set on how his lips form the words coming out of his mouth. You can’t seem to look away. It doesn’t help that he keeps sneaking glances at you, those suggestive eyes that only you know burning into your face. 

He plans to take you home tonight, you can tell. You two have been going at this for months, the no-strings-attached sex thing. You think it’s easy enough. There’s never been any real difficulties, just the fact that you’re trying to keep it discreet. 

The first kiss was at the New Years party. You were both tipsy, he confessed that he always had a little fixation on you and how you looked in “all those pretty outfits you like to wear” and you confessed that him and his “fancy british accent”, “pretty tattoos”, and “ridiculously charming personality” never failed to have you imagining kissing those incredibly soft looking lips. 

He looked at you for a second, his gaze moving from your lips to your eyes as if he was trying to gauge where your head was at. Then, at the perfect timing, the clock turned twelve and your lips were intertwined. The rest is history. 

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you bite your lip, fighting hard to hide the smile that threatens to overtake your face. You know exactly who it is. 

You pull your phone out and smirk when you read it. 

H 11:34PM

Need you tonight, baby.

It’s been too long since he’s touched you, you missed it so much and he couldn’t go another day without you. You look around a little, trying to make sure no one is looking at your phone (only making yourself look more suspicious in the process) and then begin typing back. 

You 11:36PM

And what do you suppose I do about that?

You look up at him when you know he’s seen the message. You smirk at him and he gives you a look that says ‘you know damn well’ but he texts back anyways. 

H 11:37PM

Come to mine tonight. Let me fuck you.

As soon as you read the text your stomach erupts with butterflies, you always have an instant reaction to his words. You press your thighs together and try your best not to squirm. 

He doesn’t need to know that though, so you answer with a simple, 

You 11:40 PM

Ok.

You push your phone right back into your pocket and try your best to continue with the conversation that’s getting passed around the table. But thoughts of him keep creeping in. Thoughts of his voice in your ear, the feeling of him inside of you, stretching you and filling you, his hands gripping you roughly or gently, depending on how you feel, all you can think about is him. 

“It’s getting late, you guys. I’m exhausted. Loved seeing you all.” you finally say, not being able to take much more of wanting something when it’s literally right in front of you and not being able to just take it. 

“Me too. Got an early morning. See you.” Harry says after you, looking at you not-so-discreetly as he gets his stuff. 

When you’re both outside he instantly pulls you away from the windows and kisses you. It’s hard and passionate and needy and it’s almost like he―

“Missed you.” he says in between kisses, his hands going to grip your waist tightly, like he’s yearning for the skin to skin contact. 

“Yeah?” you whisper, tugging on his bottom lip which earns you a pained groan. 

“Fuck. Mhm. Missed you so much. You smell good.” 

You giggle at his admission about your scent and decide to spur him on even more. 

“Show me. Take me home, H.” 

Waking up next to Harry is something you simultaneously love and wish you never got to experience. Because when this little arrangement is over, you know you’ll miss it too much. 

When he wakes up, he doesn’t treat you like his fuck buddy, he treats you like some sort of girlfriend. And you haven’t let it detrimentally affect you yet, but you know it will. And the day it does is when you’ll know you need to end this. End it before someone, scratch that, you get hurt. 

“Mornin’, angel. Want some breakfast?” he says, his voice gravelly but also smooth like toffee and it sounds weird but you want to taste it. 

“Mhm. Whad’ya making?” you mumble, eyeing his lips. 

“Whatever you want. Kiss?” 

You smile and lean up to kiss him, taken by surprise when he deepens it and pulls you over his lap. You giggle into the kiss and he smiles with a short chuckle. 

“Want anything before I go make it?” he says, obviously trying to start something. 

“Harry…” 

“Just asking, sweetheart. You know I always want you.” he says with a kiss to your collarbone, “only you” he says softly as if it wasn’t meant to be heard.

“Stop trying to sweet talk me. Go make breakfast.” You push yourself off him and he whines, but obliges, going to make that lovely french toast he knows you want.

You sit up to look through some emails when you hear it, his phone buzzing incessantly on his counter. 

You know it shouldn’t bother you, you’re just friends who happen to enjoy each other's sexual company. The idea of him having someone else that he whispers sweet nothing to in his ear just doesn't feel right to you. 

You pick up the phone, keeping it face down, (not wanting to see something you know you don’t want to) and walk to the kitchen where Harry is mixing some yummy smelling batter. 

“Think someone is trying to reach you.” you try to come off as cool and collected, and you almost convince yourself that you are, but you know you’re not. You curse your sensitivity and watch as he picks up the phone but puts it back down, face down, just as quickly. 

“Makin’ your favorite.” He rasps out, turning around to smirk at you. He frowns when your expression isn’t one of your usual excitement. 

“You okay, baby?” he inquires, setting the bowl of batter down on the counter and walking over to you. He takes your hands in his and playfully looks into your eyes with faux intensity, “tell me.” 

“I’m okay, yeah. Just tired.” It’s only now that you actually wonder how many times you’ve told that lie. 

“Worked you over good last night, hmm?” He smirks and you roll your eyes and smile despite yourself, “you sounded like you were having a good time.” he adds cheekily and before you can stop it a giggle breaks from your lips. 

“I was.” His ability to make you feel like everything is okay with just a cheeky smile and a couple of words breaks you and mends you at the same time. 

“Good girl.” he whispers against your lips, kissing you slowly and softly. 

“Back to the food!” he exclaims, breaking away from you to saunter back over to the counter-top. 

“Wanna be my sous chef?” 

April 1st, April fools.

You never understood the fixation with men’s hands until you started sleeping with Harry. 

“Fuck.” he drags out the vowel sound as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, stroking your g-spot in a way you can only describe as affectionately rough, “look at you princess, taking my fingers so fucking well.” 

“H..fuck I—” you’re cut off by your own loud moan, praying that no one can hear you two. Your friend group planned a little get together given the fact that it’s april fools and you guys have nothing better to do. You all decided to host it at Harry’s place and he lasted about ten minutes trying to be a good host before he dragged you into the bathroom with a phony excuse that you’re almost sure nobody believed. 

When you reach up to cover your mouth, he tuts softly and reaches up to tap three fingers against your hand, signaling he wants it off, “s’my fucking house we can be as loud as we want. You know how much I love your pretty sounds, why’re you trying to keep ‘em from me, huh? Being bad?” he says in that condescending tone that you simultaneously love and hate.

“N-no, please H. M’not being bad jus-just please.” 

“Love it when you beg. Soaking me like this and I’ve only given you two fuckin’ fingers–” 

“Gonna cum.” you interrupt him with your frantic moan, he’s always very adamant about you asking for permission. He needs to be in control like that. He needs to have that control over your body and your pleasure. He thrives on it. “Can I please, please cum?” 

“Fuck. You’re sqeezin’ me so fucking tight. Gonna make a mess all over my fingers, baby? Give it to me.” 

“Yes, yes yes” you feel that white hot pleasure building in what feels like every nerve in your body and your muscles start to jerk as you cope with all the pleasure overriding your system. You ramble out a couple praises mixed in with Harry’s name and your hand tangles in his hair which he groans at. You pray to every god that you can think of that nobody downstairs can hear the way he’s ruining you. 

“There you go, baby.” he doesn’t stop with his fingers, keeping a rhythm that only intensifies your release. When you choke on a moan that sounds more like a sob, he kisses your temple gently and soothes you with his voice, “I know, I know. Feels too good, doesn’t it?” 

You’re not sure if he expects a response, but even if he did you’re not in any state to give one. His fingers have turned your brain into a mushy mess.

“You’re okay darling. Always making me so proud.” He whispers as you come down, slowly pulsing his fingers inside you still to help you ride it out. 

“Jesus christ.” you sigh and he chuckles softly. 

“What was our excuse again?” he asks before leaning down to your lips to kiss you, his kiss full of the lust that’s swimming in his forest eyes. 

“Dunno, something about getting the movies that we were gonna watch,” you giggle softly against his lips and he smiles. 

You get some movies from his bedroom so that you don’t seem too suspicious and go back downstairs to your friends. The heat of embarrassment makes itself known every time someone asks you or Harry what took so long or what distracted you up there. 

“What could you guys possibly have been doing for eight whole minutes?” a friend of yours asks incredulously with a joking tone. 

“We couldn’t find the movie we wanted. Duh.” Harry shoots back with a quickness, smirking softly when he looks over to you. And he can read your body like a book. He knows you’re a little embarrassed at the idea of people finding out that you guys have been fooling around. 

You’re playing with the lobe of your ear as everyone takes in Harry’s response and laughs. Someone tells another joke that just amplifies the laughter but Harry’s only looking at you. Playing with the lobe of your ear is one of your many obvious tells with your anxiety. He makes  a mental note to check on you later. 

During the movie he plops himself right in between you and one of your friends, making both of you giggle. He swings his arm around your shoulder and leans down to whisper in your ear. The heat and tickle of his whisper sends a shiver down your spine and you know that the position you guys are in is less than discreet but you can’t really find it in yourself to care when he’s close like this. “You okay?” he asks in an earnest tone, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder for good measure. You nod softly and he smiles, softly tugging you closer. 

April 9th, Easter.

Easter was always a fun holiday, especially for your god children, you always loved to see the little kids run around in search of the little painted eggs. It reminded you of a time when you were in their position, blissful and young. You often refer to those as the ‘good old days’, but you can’t quite complain about how you ended up.

You’re talking to your sister’s baby boy when your phone rings, you pull it out to see a picture of Harry sleeping in bed and you smile, you remember when you took that picture. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi, pretty. Where are you?” he sounds kind of breathless, like he’s been running a mile.

“At an Easter egg hunt. You?”

He chuckles darkly before speaking. “Dunno. Just missin’ you.” he says. You squint your eyes in suspicion.

“Missing me?” you say with the same suspicion laced in your voice. You’re starting to understand what he’s playing at. 

“Missing your sweet cunt. God, the way you taste. Need you on my tongue.” he spews out in what seems like one breath. 

“Jesus Christ, Harry. What has gotten into you?” you hiss, quickly getting up out of your seat and away from prying eyes and ears. 

“God, I can almost imagine it.” you hear his whisper and the neediness radiating off of his voice makes you press your thighs together. He’s touching himself. He’s fucking his hand to the thought of your taste and it’s driving you mad. “Want you to sit on my face next time, have your thighs shaking around my head, your pussy drenchin’ me―fuck!” he whimpers. 

“Harry…” you say, it’s supposed to be some type of warning but the arousal starting to pool in your underwear has your voice coming out shaky and unstable. 

“Love it when you say my name like that. Again. Say it again, please baby.” he begs, shamelessly. You can tell he’s close, the strain in his voice, the crackly over-the-phone sound of the wetness of his strokes.

“Harry I―”

“Fuck fuck fuck, I fuckin’ need you. Please, please.” he keeps whispering the word “please” under his breath, gasping out moans and whines, “gonna cum, gonna cum.” 

You decide there's no harm in spurring him on a bit, “come for me, Harry.” 

You hear a broken “fuck” before a series of his beautiful sounds fill your ears. You squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught of stimulation, butterflies swarming around in your tummy. 

“Fuck.” 

“Yeah fuck.” you whisper and you hear his laugh on the other end. 

“Sorry―Sorry I um― called you like that. I just, fuck, really needed you. Was so fuckin’ hard. Y’have no idea.” he breathes out. 

“I…um. I missed you too.” you don’t know why you cringed at yourself after saying it, but it’s almost like Harry can read your mind because he chuckles and speaks in a reassuring tone, “that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. When will I see you again missy?” 

“Dunno. I’ve been a little busy with work and…stuff. I’ll have my people call your people to see when I can fit you into my schedule.” you joke, biting your lip softly and toying with your necklace as you wait for his response. 

When you hear a soft laugh a smile is immediately brought to your face. That laugh could melt you. His voice is like velvet when he speaks, “I’ll have you soon. We both know you can’t stay away. You need me for my slutty waist and washboard abs as you usually say.” 

You try your best to hold in your laugh so as to not inflate his ego, but it slips out before you have permission and both of you are laughing before you feel a delicate tap on your leg. You’re met with your nephew when you turn around and look down to find the source of the touch. 

“Can we pway more bunnies?” your nephew says to you and you nod softly, “just give me one second honey.” He nods and walks back to the place you guys were sitting and you smile as you watch him. 

“I’ve gotta go but I’ll text you, alright?” 

“See you soon, petal.” 

May 31st, Memorial Day.

“That kiss the cook apron is really working for you, Harry I’ve got to say.” you giggle at your friend Jamal’s shout at Harry. 

It’s another one of your favorite holidays and you and your friends are all at the beach. The sun is beaming on your skin and warming you in the best way while the breeze balances it out, cooling you in the places needed. “Take it off! Take it off!” you join the chant, having trouble even speaking in between laughs. 

“You guys are fucking ridiculous” Harry chuckles. He smirks and reaches behind him to pretend to take the apron off, laughing when everybody’s cheers get louder. 

When the food is done and everyone is full, the girls lay on the sand while the guys are across from you guys making sandcastles like children. You look over at Harry and feel your stomach twist in a way that it’s been doing recently that you can’t stand. He just looks so good. You don’t know how else to explain it. Especially in this light, the warm sunset creating a golden glow against him. The soft amber tones kissed his skin and the sunshine he usually radiated with his personality seemed to radiate physically, as if he was being infused with the sun’s very essence.

You couldn’t stop yourself from sitting up to go and talk to him. He looked up at you in the position he was in on his knees and smiled, his eyes squinted from the direct sunlight.

“Hey. Fancy going for a walk?” the way he says it seems like he’s been waiting for the opportunity to do so. The sun shifts and his expression softens as he awaits your response. 

You nod and put your hand out for him to take it, and he rolls his eyes playfully but takes your hand anyway. You try not to think about what the rest of the group might think as you walk away with him, hand in hand. It’s not lost on you that you guys look like a couple, but Harry has always been touchy with his friends, some might say too touchy, so you pray that they’ll just attribute it to that. 

He swings your hands as you guys walk, and constantly rakes his fingers through his damp hair with his free hand. You kind of wish he wouldn’t because you love the way his curls fall over his face. 

“I feel like we’ve both been so busy. I haven’t gotten to see you as much as I want to.” You stop walking, you guys are a bit of a good distance away from everyone else and he’s starting to get more affectionate with you. His hands trail up to your arm to cradle your neck and he rubs your jaw affectionately. He leans down to ghost his lips against your neck and whispers, “I’ve missed you.” 

There’s something so poetic about the way his voice carries with the wind and the distant sound of the waves crashing around you guys. You melt into his hands when his lips finally make actual contact with your skin and you have to fight hard to suppress the whimper that threatens to leave your mouth. 

“Tell me you’ll come home with me tonight. Please.” He suckles on your neck gently, causing the moan you were suppressing to finally force its way out. 

“I will. Anything you want.” you pant out, tangling your hands into his hair. You sigh when he pulls away from you but you can’t complain when you get the view of the sun reflecting in his eyes. It feels like you’re frozen in time as you look at him. The sun has set a bit more and the atmosphere is colored a fiery orange that bleeds more into a red. His eyes mimic the water in the way they glisten and his pink lips almost make you weak just looking at them. Especially considering the way those lips were just all over you. 

Harry’s staring at you in awe, the way the deep colored rays dance against your skin made it seem like a thousand stars fell from the sky just to adorn you. You’ve always been beautiful, but in this very moment, you’re transcendent. To him it’s like you constantly exceed any expectation for beauty he could possibly have. Everything about you is like a masterpiece to him. He wonders why it took him so long to grasp just how weak the sight of you makes him. He gives you one soft kiss and then pulls back too quickly. He takes your hand and starts walking with you back to the rest of the group. 

Looking at him now, you wonder why it took you so long to grasp just how deep you are in this. Having thoughts of freezing time and staying in this moment so you can look at him forever are dangerous thoughts. Thoughts that almost make it seem like you’re in love. 

Dangerous. 

October 31st, Halloween.

“Jesus, babe.” Harry brings his finger up and moves it in a circular motion, “do a spin for me.” 

You giggle and spin around, making sure to do it slowly so he can really take in the way this dress hugs your figure in all the right ways. He whistles and you can’t stop the laugh from leaving your lips. 

Ever since your realization at the beach, things have been so simple between you two. You thought it would complicate things, but everything has been perfect. So incredibly perfect. It’s almost like he knew that you were starting to feel something more, the way he’s been treating you these past couple months is so different. Different in a good way. The amount of attention and care that he’s devoted to you makes your stomach with more butterflies than you can handle. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you tell him, walking up closer to him, having to look up at him. Your confidence wanes the slightest bit at his intense eye contact when he looks down at you with an amused smirk on his face. 

“Yeah? I look good enough for you?” he quips, dangerously close to your lips as he speaks, “I was worried you know? S’hard to measure up to you.” 

Ever the flirt, he is. 

“You’re overdoing it now.” you deadpan and back away from him, making him throw his head back in a cackle. It was Harry’s idea to go to the Halloween party in matching costumes. You were a little shocked at first but you’d never turn down an opportunity to match with the most fashionable man you know. 

“Our ride is gonna be here in about….” he looks down at an imaginary watch on his wrist, “fifteen minutes. Whadya say we sneak a quickie in?” he smirks at you and chuckles when you roll your eyes.

“It’s this fucking outfit,” he practically growls, his hands palm at your ass, “driving me insane, baby.” 

“And whose idea was it?” you tilt your head as you speak, making a point to move his hands from your ass to your waist. “I’m not gonna be late because of you again, Harry. Keep your hands at appropriate places at all times.” you scold him. 

“Yes it was my idea,” he sighs. “A very good but painful idea that I take full credit fo—” a car beeping outside interrupts his sentence and his brow furrows while you smirk at him. 

Right…fifteen minutes.

Getting in the car and seeing all your friends dressed in all their Halloween outfits already has you excited for the rest of the night. Harry was very adamant about your seating arrangement when the car got too cramped, eagerly offering up his lap as a seat replacement for you. You of course took it, and you’ve spent the whole ride fighting your body’s natural reaction to his little teasing touches. 

You want to kill him by the time you finally arrive at the party. He knew exactly what he was doing in that car, he knows the effect his touches have on you and you know he’s doing this as “payback” for how you’re torturing him in your outfit. 

It’s not hard to make your rounds and do all the socializing that you’ve equipped yourself for before Harry is immediately stealing you away from people.

“Wanna dance with you.” is all he says, dragging you to the dancefloor. You look around as you guys settle, the vibe around is nothing short of raunchy. Looking at all of the other couples around you, you can tell that they all want to take each other home and tear each other’s clothes off. After cooling off with a couple drinks and conversations, you weren’t exactly in that mindset anymore, but you have a feeling that Harry is about to take you right back there. 

His hands smooth down your waist, boldly cupping your ass and he slowly grinds against him to the rhythm of the song, you feel his gentle breath before you hear his voice. “You’re killing me, petal. Been picturing tearing this dress off of you all. Fucking. Night.” 

Your breath catches in your throat and you let his hands lead you as you push your head further into his neck, “M’not doing anything though. What’s got you this worked up?” You pout at him condescendingly. He knows feigning innocence when he’s needy like this is your favorite thing to do. It makes you feel a sort of power that you usually don’t get with him to hear him say that you make him into a mess. 

“You fucking know, baby. You know what you’re doing to me.” he’s whining out his words at this point, and you thank god that the music is as loud as it is so everyone else can’t hear how this man is falling apart in your hands. 

“Can’t think of anything else. The only thought in my mind is watching you come on my cock. God it’d be so easy to just fuck you right here. Know you’ve already made a mess of yourself. It’d be so easy to give you what I know you need right now.” 

You’re panting at this point, delirious with pleasure. It should be illegal the way he can talk you into almost anything with that voice. You don’t care about anything or anyone else around you, all you can think about is how desperately you need him to quell that ache that’s building inside you.

“Fuck. Take me home. Take me home right now, H.” 

As soon as he hears you he’s moving. He doesn’t even bother to let your friends know where you’re going. He just drags you outside and starts tapping on his phone to get you guys an uber.

The ride to his house is tortuous. He sits you in his lap almost immediately and his hands find a home on your hips, making a point to drag you slowly back and forth across his thigh. 

Every roll against his thigh drives you further and further into oblivion and you don’t think you can wait any longer to get what you so desperately need. You suppose you’ll let him have his fun though, his little taste of “payback” for how bad he’s been aching this whole night. 

The second the driver stops, it’s like Harry couldn’t get you off of his lap fast enough (something you never thought you’d say) and he’s dragging you up to the house. He wanted to kiss you as soon as you got out of the car but he knew you wouldn’t appreciate doing that in front of the driver. No matter how turned on you are. 

As soon as you guys step into the house, he closes the door behind him and his lips are already on you. Your mind is instantly turned into mush with the way he claims your lips. It’s like he can’t even wait long enough to get you upstairs. He’s immediately getting down on his knees and kissing and sucking his way up your thighs, “so fucking beautiful and soft. You feel like a fucking dream. Dreamy girl.” 

He trails his hands slowly upwards and takes a hold of your thin lace panties. Although he pulls them down gently, you can see the impatience in his eyes and feel it in his grip. He’s beginning to lose his resolve and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. 

Your skirt is pushed up and resting on your hips before you can blink. The way you’ve been pressing your thighs together since you got in the house has been deemed useless when he forcefully pushes them apart, his hands gripping the flesh so hard you fear it might leave marks.  

“Wanna feel you come on my tongue. Missed it so much. Will you let me?” he sucks marks that only the two of you will be able to see in your inner thighs. You can barely find it in you to answer his question. Everything about the way he’s touching you, to his voice, to the smell of his cologne and your arousal mixed together is heightening all of your senses and making your brain short circuit. 

You nod hoping that would be enough, but you should’ve known better. “Words. You know better, baby.” he tsks, continuing his kisses along your sensitive skin. 

“Yes, yes. Please.” Is all you can manage to get out. The second the first yes leaves your lips, his mouth is exactly where you need it the most. He’s not wasting any time tonight, getting straight to the point of making you lose yourself on his tongue. Usually he drags it out, edges you or teases you with his tongue, but he’s aching so bad. He needs to be inside you before he loses his mind. 

His tongue swirls messily against your clit and you’re so sensitive that you tense with almost every stroke. He’s moaning against you in a way that you would find obnoxious if it wasn’t him, but because it is him, it just adds to your pleasure. He’s behaving as if he’s a man starved. As if he’s been a dessert and you’re that stream of water that he’s been yearning for. 

You tangle your hand into his hair and let your head tip back against the door. You can’t be bothered to worry about the volume of the moans you’re letting out and how they travel through the empty house. You’re too consumed in how good he’s making you feel. That’s the good thing about having a sexual partner like this. You’ve had so much time together and he’s made the most diligent effort to learn your body. He knows every signal, every tick, every indication. And he uses it all to his advantage. 

You sob lowly when he slides his fingers into your heat, immediately curling them up to hit that spot that makes you shake. You pull your head off of the door to look down at him, only to find his eyes already on you. His intense green eyes bore into yours and it’s almost as if they’re communicating with your eyes. He urges you to let go for him with that unspoken language that you’re now fluent in. 

He fucks you deep with his fingers while his tongue continues it’s very skillful ministrations. Every time he moans into your cunt the vibrations just push you further and further into bliss and you’re almost embarrassed with how close you are so quickly. The sounds you’re making are bordering on pornagraphic when you start clenching down hard on his fingers you know you’re a goner. 

He pulls away to egg you on with his voice, “there you go, baby. Getting so fucking tight for me.” you moan at his words and nod. As much as you love the way his tongue was working magic on you, the one thing that will always get you to fall over the edge is his voice. 

He’s evil, you decide. He’s evil for the way he toys with your body like he owns it. And at this point, he does own it. 

His tongue is back on your clit to offer you that final push off of the edge, he flicks his tongue and sucks with a pressure that you can only describe as mind numbing. Every movement he makes just makes the release that’s brewing even stronger. 

A complete mess of syllables leaves your bitten lips as the white hot pleasure consumes you. It feels like a tidal wave swallows you up in its strength and you see no way of coming up for air. You choke out a series of moans that Harry only groans at while he continues to softly lick at your clit and thrust his fingers inside you, like he intends to keep you under. 

The hands that were in his hair tug hard as the soft licks start to become a little too much for you to handle. A slightly higher pitched sound leaves him and he relents reluctantly, “can never get enough of your cunt, petal. Never.” He leaves wet kisses all over your thighs in between more praises that you barely register with all the pleasure swimming in your mind. 

One thing you can register though, is how bad you need him inside you, “take me upstairs, Harry.” 

He stands up almost immediately at that, and he smirks before leaning down to pick you up bridal style. You giggle at his antics and he only chuckles, kissing your cheek as he leads you two up the stairs.

November 23, Thanksgiving.  

Thanksgiving is by far your favorite holiday. The way you get to spend time with your family, the (amazing) food, just the atmosphere of being happy and thankful with people you love, you look forward to it every year. You’re chilling next to your sister on the couch at your parents house, laughing at one of your dad’s jokes. 

You guys have already eaten and you're completely full and sated as you enjoy the company of your family. 

The amount of times you’ve checked your phone should be considered embarrassing, but you can’t find it in yourself to stop. You invited Harry over for dinner. And it’s really no big deal, he’s been your friend for a while, long before the whole arrangement started. And he’s met your family so many times that they wouldn’t even bat an eye. His family lives in London and he’s in the U.S. for work so he’s come over for Thanksgiving plenty of times. 

You feel a nudge on your shoulder and you look over at your sister who has a soft knowing smirk on her face. 

Uh oh. You know that expression. 

You give her a deadpanned look, “what?” 

Her smile grows at the way you can read her so well and you urge her with your eyes to tell you what’s on her mind. 

“So…what’s going with you and Harry?” her eyes are squinted in that specific way that tells you that she knows exactly what’s going on with you and Harry, she just wants to hear you say it. “It’s just…you guys have been posting each other a lot, tagging each other in posts and all that. And the last time I saw you guys, you seemed super domestic.” 

You don’t doubt that. Even though you and Harry still place yourselves under the “friends with benefits” label, you guys have gotten way closer emotionally. You’re always together now. You sleep over at his house almost every night, sometimes without even sleeping together. You guys have been glued at the hip ever since Halloween. And it’s great, honestly. It feels great. 

“It’s nothing, it’s just…” you shrug your shoulders and a sheepish look graces your face, “I think I sort of…like him”

  Your sister can barely register what you said before your head is snapping to the sound of the doorbell ringing. You look back at your sister and she smirks at you softly with a soft raise of her eyebrow. 

Your mom gets up to open it and immediately shrieks in surprise, “Harry! I had no idea you were coming!” you smile at the genuine joy in her voice and then at Harry’s voice when he speaks, “she didn’t tell you I was coming?” You can hear the smile in his voice and it immediately brings the one you were trying to hide back on your face. 

“And you brought a date!” your mom exclaims. 

Your smile drops. 

Your heart follows your smile and you immediately feel a pit deep in your stomach that twists and twists until you can’t take it anymore. 

A hot wave of embarrassment comes next when your sister tenses next to you. You had just told her that you actually might like someone, that you actually might like Harry. And here he is with a date. 

Your mom steps aside to let them in and your stomach twists even tighter. She’s beautiful. And you’re sure she’s kind and charismatic and perfect and everything Harry would want and deserve in a woman. 

You don’t even wanna see the look on your sister’s face, you don’t want to see the pity in her eyes when she realizes that you’re completely hopeless. 

You feel tears gathering in your waterline and you blink them away. You almost want to feel angry. He brought her here? At your parents house? You know that technically you two don’t owe each other anything but there’s a level of respect that you figure one is supposed to have when sleeping with someone. 

You suddenly feel scared to see his face. You wonder if he’ll look guilty, or completely indifferent. You honestly don’t know which one is worse. 

You’re even more nervous that he’ll see your face and realize how much this is hurting you. How much it’s hurting you to realize that, although you two are friends, he never felt for you what you felt for him. That you were just a warm body he used when he needed it, and you happily offered it to him. Over and over. 

A plethora of emotions hit you at once, and after you cycle through confusion, sadness, and anger, you just feel stupid.

Your mom says your name and you’re very harshly snapped out of your thoughts, “figured you’d surprise us for the holiday, huh?” your mom has the most gentle smile on your face and it almost makes you crumble more. You look over to your mom and you immediately feel his intense gaze on you. That same intense gaze that used to make you melt only makes all of your muscles seize in the worst way at this very moment. You refuse to meet his eyes cause you know that if you do, you’ll break. 

You force a smile and pray that it’s not too obvious how you’re not even acknowledging him, “guess so, mom.” 

You and your sister share a look and you communicate without words that she’ll cover for you if you have to leave. She nods at you with a knowing look and you return the look, mentally preparing yourself to lie to everyone here and say you have to go. 

You pick your stuff up and get up to walk towards the door. “Harry,”  you address him for the first time since he came, “thank you so much for coming. I didn’t think you’d actually make it.” 

He furrows his brows and leans towards you, extending his arm out to pull you into an awkward side hug, “of course I’d make it.” you feel yourself tense as you feel his touch and you hope he doesn’t notice. You nod against his shoulder and sigh. His cologne envelopes your senses and you bask in the comfort of his warm hug. You’re utterly torn between the two feelings it offers you, a feeling of discomfort conflicting with a feeling of home. 

“How are you? You look lovely.” he kisses your cheek and the all too familiar feeling of his stubble rubbing against your skin threatens to bring a new wave of tears to your eyes. 

“I’m fine–” you barely get the words out before he’s interrupting you. A huge smile graces his face and he looks down at the girl he’s got his arm around, squeezing her shoulder gently before he speaks and you already know what he’s going to say. 

“I want you to meet—” 

You can’t do it. 

“I’d love to talk but I’ve got a work emergency and I really need to go.” you watch his face drop. His eyebrows furrow tightly together and a frown graces his face. You can tell he’s confused, he knows that you would never leave Thanksgiving early for any work emergency and you would never leave as soon as he shows up. 

You go to walk but his hand leaves his date like he’s been burned by her skin and he reaches out for you, grabbing your arm tight. His eyes are swimming with an expression you can’t quite place and he squeezes your arm with a quick pulse, “where’re you going? I just got here.” his voice dips and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s hurt by you leaving. Right now you can’t even begin to worry about him being hurt with the pain radiating in your chest right now. 

“S’work, H. I’m really sorry,” you turn to address the girl next to him, “it’s really nice to meet you. I’m sorry we couldn’t talk more.” and with that you’re out of there before anyone can say anything else. As soon as the door shuts behind you, you take a deep, shaky breath and bring your hand up to your neck to soothe the ache that’s developing in your jaw from holding in your tears. 

You decide then and there that you need to get it together. Harry doesn’t owe you anything, you guys are strictly friends with benefits. You weren’t supposed to get attached and caught up in the strings. You’ll try your absolute best to be a mature adult about this and not take your pain out on him cause as much as this hurts you, he doesn’t deserve to be treated the way you treat people when you’re hurt. 

And with that decision, you come to another. You need some time apart from Harry. 

December 24, Christmas Eve. 

Christmas Eve. Another one of your favorites. The anticipation and festive energy in the air felt palpable and everywhere you looked there was joy. The land outside was covered in white and the air felt crisp and cold. You loved the kind of air where it gave you little goosebumps as soon as you stepped outside. 

You’re watching a cheesy romantic Christmas movie, simultaneously loving and hating it. Loving it because it’s adorable and makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside, hating it because you definitely wish that the leads were you and Harry and it’s making you want to die. 

Just as the male lead tells the female lead how much he’s really been crushing on her the whole time they’ve been trying to save her mom’s restaurant, your phone begins to buzz. Unfortunately for you, it’s been buzzing all day. 

Harry. 

Over and over again. 

He’s been texting and calling and truthfully, he actually sounds really concerned.

Harry 11/28/23

Hey petal. Been trying to reach you for a bit. Is everything okay? We good? 

Harry 12/1/23

Miss you. Text me. 

Harry 12/3/23

Answer meeee please? 

Harry 12/7/23

Feel like you’re avoiding me. 

Harry 12/7/23

Did I do something? I’m sorry if I did. 

Harry 12/14/23

Just please let me know you’re alright. I’m getting worried. 

Harry 12/17/23 Starting to think that you’re dead. 

Harry 12/22/23

I’m gonna stop bothering you now. But I miss you. Please text me back. 

Harry 12/24/23

Okay I lied about the bothering thing. I need to see you and I’m really worried and if you’re dead I’m gonna ask the police to do a wellness check. So answer me. 

The sheer desperation in his texts almost broke you, but for all you know he just misses the sex, and the thought of that breaks you even more. 

You grab the pillow on your couch and thrust it up to your face to scream into it. The second you get done screaming you hear your doorbell and you jump. You wonder who in their right mind would be out in this weather but you pause your movie and  go to open it nonetheless. 

What you didn’t expect was a Harry Styles covered in snow at your door. 

“Hey...can I come in? S’snowing like really hard.” It breaks your heart a little the way he added that last bit in, like you would refuse him otherwise.

“Of course. Do you want any tea?” you ask, trying to avoid the elephant in the room in case that’s not why he came here. 

“No I’m― I came here to um…talk.”

Fuck. 

“Okay.” You giggle, trying to lighten the mood but his sullen expression stays put. 

“I’m still gonna start the kettle in case you want any―” 

“Why’re you pulling away from me?” he blurts out.

“Wha―”

“I literally haven’t spoken to you in weeks. Have I done something wrong? I―I” he pauses to compose himself and your frown deepens, “I miss you. Miss you so much and I just wanted to make sure we were okay.” 

You push yourself away from the couch and walk up to him, making sure to keep eye contact knowing how important it is to him,”of course we are, H.” 

“You haven’t spoken to me in like a mo―” 

“Shh, shh. Was just swamped with work. You know how I get all in my head.” You know you shouldn’t be lying to him, you really shouldn’t. But the way he’s talking like the idea of you purposely ignoring him breaks him, you don’t have it in you to let him suffer any longer.

He nods and you smile at him, bringing your hands up to tangle in his hair, “we’re okay. I promise.” 

“Promise?” he whispers and your heart flutters. 

“Yeah.” You hate lying to his face. 

You start your steps to go to the kitchen but his grip on your wrist pulls you back, nearly crashing into his chest. 

“Want a kiss, please.” his voice never leaves that soft whisper. You lean in to give him a soft kiss, suddenly feeling a pit in your stomach that only deepens the closer you get to him. You’ve always had a bad habit of putting someone’s comfort over yours. 

“Do you want tea?” you whisper against his lips. 

“Always want some fuckin’ tea.” he says with a smirk and a quiet chuckle, that joyful inflection back in his voice and that familiar sparkle back in his eyes. 

When you step out of the kitchen with the tea he’s sitting on the couch in a relaxed manner, picking at the loose strings in your pillows and watching the movie you have on. His lips stretch in a gentle smile when he sees you and you force yourself to return it. 

You sit down next to him and he places his hand softly on your thigh, leaning over to you to place a soft kiss on your jaw. He trails more and more down to your neck and you feel your stomach twist. Your hand shoots to his chest to halt any further movement and you rush out words in a short breath, “We can’t.” There’s a beat of silence. He backs away quickly to not make you uncomfortable and you sigh and whisper, “...I can’t” 

Your eyes flick up to meet his gaze and you can tell that without an explanation your rejection stings him a little. 

“Don’t you have like…a thing? With that girl you brought to Thanksgiving?” you watch his face twist tightly in confusion and you can’t bear to hear him make excuses or lie to you so you just continue to ramble, “does she even know that you’re sleeping with other people? With me? Like if I was your girlfriend I’d be pretty fucking pissed that you’re over here and touching me after bringing her to Thanksgiving of all places—” 

“Shut up.” He cuts off your ramble sharply. You suck in a breath at his tone (and after speaking all those words without a break) and your chest tightens at his stern expression. 

“W-what?” you fumble through the word. Never in your life have you seen him this angry. He’s looking at you with a gaze that can only be described as absolutely vexed. 

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” If there’s one thing Harry is, it’s smart. He’s absolutely not an idiot. But you absolutely are for not realizing just how well he knows you, “you’ve barely spoken to me for a month. Didn’t answer my calls, texts, not going out when you know I’d be there because you thought I’d betray your trust like that and just pop up one day with a fucking girlfriend!?” You can tell that he’s trying to control his volume and anger. The way his fist and jaw is clenched is an obvious indication. 

“Well what was I supposed to think, Harry? You brought her and she was beautiful and you had your hand on her wai–” 

“And you weren’t gonna let me explain myself!? I’d never do that to you. It was—We–we had a deal!” he exclaims incredulously, ducking down to meet your eyes when you try and look away. 

“I know we had a deal, H. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions—” He interrupts you again and you sigh deeply. 

“And I can’t believe that you would think…I thought it was different…I thought you…” he trails off, his voice getting softer as his speaking slows.

“You thought I what?” you ask urgently. He looks down at his hands and picks at the nail on his thumb. You frown softly, “you thought I what, H?”

His expression almost looks tortured as he trains his gaze on his fingers. You suddenly feel terrible. You ignored him for so long all over a simple misunderstanding. You think back to the moment that it all happened and figure you might have avoided all of this if you just let him properly introduce her like he was trying to. Your lip trembles softly at the idea of hurting him and he sighs. 

“I thought you felt the same way as I did. I thought it wasn’t just a deal to you.” he admisses so very quietly. So quiet that if the TV was any louder you wouldn’t have heard it. His brows are tightly knit together and his lips are turned down into a deep pout. 

Harry almost regretted it when he said it. He knows that if you truly don’t feel the same, it’ll never go back to the way it was, and he’ll lose the person he cares about the most. He’ll lose the person he loves the most. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest and he avoids looking up at your expression in fear that your expression will be less than kind. 

He speaks before you can even process what he just said, “Ellie’s my cousin.” he breathes out a humorless laugh, “the girl I brought to Thanksgiving. I thought you’d love her.” the soft tone and volume of his voice remains constant.

You feel like your brain just short circuited. Harry just told you that he actually has feelings for you. That all this time he’s been thinking about you in the same way that you’ve been thinking about him. All this time. 

And you’re sitting here like an idiot letting him stew in confusion and not saying a word. 

“Oh my god.” you gasp like you’ve suddenly been slapped back into reality. Your hands rush over to him like they have a mind of their own with thoughts that tell them that they need to be close to him. You grasp his face in your hands and pull his head up so you can look into his eyes. 

“H.” you sigh. He watches your mouth form around the word and he decides right then and there that no matter what you’re going to say next, no matter if you reject him and tell him you could never see him that way, you will always make him weak. Looking into your eyes will always break and mend him at the same time, the sound of you saying his name will always make him crumble.

“Of course I feel the same way. Are you kidding? I thought that you didn’t.” you finally, finally admit. It immediately feels like a giant weight has been lifted off of your chest and you almost wanna cry at how freeing it feels. 

“Are you serious?” he laughs, although you can see that his eyes are a bit glossy. You pout softly, nodding and leaning down to envelop his lips in yours. 

“I’ve always needed you, petal. Even before the sex. I need you to know that.” he speaks with conviction. He needs you to know that it’s not just the sex muddling his brain and making him attached. He really truly loves you. Everything about you. 

“I know, I know H.” you nod again. 

“You’ve got no fuckin’ idea how much I missed you, petal. No clue.” His voice is thick with emotion, but also filled with that familiar lust that you missed so much. 

You scoot closer to him on the couch and throw your legs around his lap to straddle him, “feel like showing me?” 

He chuckles darkly, his hands quickly landing on your waist. His mouth closes to form into a smirk when you blatantly offer your body up for him like this. A soft noise leaves you in reaction to the tight grip he has on your waist. 

Your hips take on a mind of their own when they start to shift against him. A soft hiss followed by a groan leaves his lips. It’s like your lips are magnets the way you can’t keep them away from each other. He leans up to kiss you and the movement of your hips intensifies. 

You can see it in his eyes that he’s thinking of some sort of punishment to sort out your behavior of the past month. The intensity in his expression makes you feel a sort of anxiousness that throws you for a loop. You feel a little scared, but all the excitement and anticipation just overrides that tiny bit of fear. 

He leans closer to you to leave open mouthed kisses all over the exposed skin of your chest, he kisses until he reaches the fabric of your shirt and his hand falls to your ass, gripping it tightly while urging you to continue the movement of your hips against him. 

“Gonna have to teach you a lesson it seems.” His voice is husky and deep when he speaks, you know that he has the capacity to absolutely ruin you tonight, and you know that he will. 

He taps your hip with his fingers, his usual signal that he needs you to stand up. Your brows furrow in confusion briefly, but the confusion is gone as soon as it came when he speaks. 

“Do me a favor, honey?” 

You nod eagerly. 

“Get out that vibrator you’ve got in your dresser, clothes off and wait for me in your room.” His voice held a velvety, sensual tone, and combined with what he said, you’re nearly weak in the knees. When you stand there for a moment, having a bit of trouble getting your body to move as fast as your brain, he urges you with a raise of his eyebrow and you immediately spring into action. 

You hear his quiet murmur of “good girl” as you start to walk to your room. Every nerve in your body is buzzing with anticipation. Harry is already amazing in the bedroom with just him, imagining the pleasure you’ll feel with him and the toy is making you squeeze your thighs together and your eyes shut as you dwell in your thoughts. 

You sat down on your bed (very submissively, you hope it’ll get you some brownie points) with your vibrator laying next to you. Just when you’re starting to get impatient, the door opens with Harry on the other side of it. There’s a very distinct hunger in his eyes as he looks at you, as his gaze travels the length of your body. You can tell he appreciates the way you’re sitting. 

He doesn’t waste any time walking towards you and kneeling until his knees touch the floor and he’s level with where you need him the most. His hands find purchase on your thighs, immediately squeezing and prodding at them like he’s playing with his favorite toy (which he technically is), “you’re so good for me, petal. Doing as I asked.” 

His eyes flick up to yours after he speaks, and the eye contact, especially when he’s got that look going, makes you melt. You’re hyper aware of the tortuous way his hands are trailing upwards. He knows the way his touch works you up no matter where it is, and he’s using it to his advantage. 

A sharp gasp rips from your throat when he spreads your thighs apart. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve gotten from just the anticipation and thought of what he’s going to do to you. The groan that he let out once he saw what a mess you’ve made is an indication that he was pleased. 

“Jesus, petal. Look what you’ve done…” he stares at your center with an expression of deep desire as he reaches out a hand to trail two fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal on his fingertips, “messing up your sheets, baby. This all for me?” 

You can’t help but obediently nod, meeting his eyes with a pleading look, “only for you, promise. Please?” 

His face is painted with an expression of faux confusion, that condescending look that makes you clench around nothing and tip your head up to the ceiling in frustration. You know from that look this is going to be harder than you thought. He’s in the mood to tease. He’s going to break you.

“Please? Please what, baby. What do you need from me?” You’re impressed by the way he’s looking at you like he’s actually concerned and wondering what you want, and although you know it’s an act and he’s not asking because he truly plans on giving it to you, you still give in.

“Touch me, Harry. Need it.” You should be embarrassed at the whiny inflection in your voice as you beg him, but you can’t find it in yourself to feel shame when you’re aching as bad as you are. 

“You need it?” He teases and you know even he’s getting tired of this waiting game because his expression has melted down into a lazy grin, enjoying the way he’s torturing you. 

You can tell that he isn’t exactly mad any more, which you’re grateful for. He’s just enjoying toying with the body that he knows so well. 

You scoff and roll your eyes, pushing your hips towards him needily. It earns you a dark chuckle and a sigh, “alright, alright.” 

Without leaving his position on his knees, he reaches for the vibrator. Before you can beg any more, he’s switching it on and bringing it down to where you need it the most. He doesn’t even offer up a warning before he’s placing it directly on your clit, ripping a shocked moan from your throat. 

“Yeah?” His voice is taunting and low, and if the vibrator was any louder you wouldn’t be able to hear him, but it still hits you right in the gut like his voice usually does when he talks to you like this, “is that good? Right here?” 

“Fuck, yes. Stay right there.” you stutter through your words in a way that you know he’ll tease you for later, but you don’t have the brain capacity to care right now. All you can think about and feel is him, that vibrator on your clit, the way he’s talking. 

When he presses it harder against you, you breathe in deeply, exhaling in a whiney moan. He’s making you unravel at a quick and embarrassing pace and the sensations are overwhelming you. Your hips start to shift in tandem with the way he’s slowly rubbing the head of the vibrator back and forth against your clit, the sounds that leave your throat travel straight to his cock that’s still confined in his pants. He growls lowly when he notices your thighs start to shake and leans closer to suck kisses into them, “close already? Fuck look at that, honey…” he’s referring to the way your arousal is coating the toy. He almost feels tempted to bring it to his lips and clean it off, “this dreamy cunt needed it so bad, hm?”

You couldn’t respond even if you tried, your brain a mess of syllables and sounds that you’re meant to put together. All you can manage is a string of whimpers as you get closer and closer to your peak.

Harry watches your every move, so in tune with every twitch of your body and every sound you make. He moans along with you as you come undone, making sure to keep the toy right where it’s been to help you ride it out, anything to keep making his girl feel good. 

You reach for his hand to ground you and he quickly gives you what you need, interlocking your fingers and groaning when you squeeze tightly, “there you go…fuck.” 

You push yourself away from the toy when it becomes too much as best as you can, desperate to escape the onslaught of overstimulation and he chuckles, pulling the toy off of you. You can barely grip your bearings as he brings the toy to his lips to clean off with his tongue, he moans needily when he tastes you and squeezes your hand as if to say he’s proud of you. 

He puts the toy down next to you and starts to kiss his way up your body. Mumbling little words of encouragement and praise on his journey to your lips. 

“Did such a good job.” 

“M’so proud of you.” 

“You come so pretty.” 

“So beautiful.”  

When you guys are face to face he pinches your lips with his fingers before he leans down to kiss you, moaning into the kiss since he was deprived of them in the short time that he was making you come. 

“Hi.” You breathe out in a chuckle, your mind still muddled from the post climactic haze. He returns your greeting, his voice soft and tender with an adoration filled expression on his face. 

“Aren’t you like–” you motion your head downwards to refer to the way he’s straining in his pants and a chuckle leaves his lips. He nods gently, still staring at you with that fond look in his eye. 

“Mhm.” he mumbles. He repositions himself so he can take off his clothes and after he teases you for nearly drooling over his abs, comes back down to rest against you so that your chests are touching, “you wanna keep going?”

You know he’s asking to be respectful, but you can also tell that if you say no he’d probably cry. You can feel how hard he is against your thigh and see the strain in his expression. He subtly shifts his hips every so often against your skin and you have to fight back a smirk at how needy he is. 

You nod before you remember his thing about verbal consent and you mumble out a soft yes. As soon as he has your permission, he’s connecting your lips and lining up his tip with your entrance. He drags his tip back and forth against you, your body twitching in sensitivity every time he passes over your clit. 

A guttural groan leaves him as he finally fills you, a groan that melts into a whine as you clench down around him tightly, forcing yourself to adjust to the burning stretch that you’ve missed so much. 

“Fuck, I missed you.” The sound of his voice and the sounds he’s making just make you clench down tighter around him, “how do you always feel this fucking good? Squeezing me like a vice, pretty.”  

He sets a rhythm that has him hitting that spot inside you that makes you melt every time, somehow even though he’s been aching in his pants for so long his focus still remains solely on bringing you pleasure, making you feel good, “s’that okay, sweet girl. S’it good for you? Am I giving this needy cunt what it needs?” 

You know he doesn’t expect you to respond but he speaks anyway. He’s well aware of the effect his voice has on you.His deliberate thrusts gain more momentum with every reaction you give him. He truly feeds on your pleasure. It’s as if he suddenly remembers the emotional turmoil you forced the both of you to go through the past month, because his thrusts begin to get more purposeful. Rougher, more pointed motions of his hips rip noises from you that you’re sure is gonna give you a sore throat later. 

His hand wraps around your throat in a firm grip, leaning down to grit words out into your ear, “you’re mine, understand that? You’re mine. And I’m yours. No one else’s. I belong to you, petal. Just you.” 

He fights the strong pull in his chest that tells him to tell you how he really feels, how in love he is with you. How you consume his every thought and how your touch is unlike any other touch he’s ever felt. From the first time he was already addicted. You’re unlike anyone else that he’s ever met, you feel like home. 

The force of his thrusts knock all of the air out of your lungs, and all you can do is nod and mumble out an agreement. You need to be his. There might not be anything that you want more right now. Hearing him confess his feelings for you right now as he’s fucking you into oblivion do all the right things for you, and like clockwork, he immediately recognizes what you need and switches back on the vibrator, bringing it right back down to your clit. 

“Fuck that’s it, baby. Am I fucking you right, petal? Yeah? Fucking show me then. Come for me.” He presses the toy harder against you and rolls his hips in just the perfect way that makes him rub against that perfect spot inside you and you realize now that he made good on his word of teaching you a lesson. You are sufficiently taught.

He whines loudly at the feeling of you coming around him, mumbling out praises and thank you’s as you milk him for everything he’s worth, “shit, m’gonna fucking come. Fuck keep cumming, baby. Keep fucking squeezing me like that–” his words are cut off with a series of noises that you know is going replay in your head on loop. 

He rides out his pleasure with slow, lazy thrusts, hiding his face in your neck as he tries to cope with all the pleasure that’s wracking through his body. You tangle your hands in his hair to offer him some comfort, both of you breathing heavily. He continues to mumble praises into your damp skin, filling you with a warm fuzzy feeling that transcends anything you’ve ever felt before. 

When he catches his breath he turns his head to rest it on your shoulder and speaks, “you know I meant it right?” 

“Meant what?” 

“I’m yours. And you’re mine.” 

December 31st, New Years Eve. 

Your friend’s makeshift bar is bustling and you chuckle as the poor untrained bartender is trying to grapple with it all. You’re sipping slowly at a glass of champagne when you feel a strong arm link around your waist. 

“Mm hi baby.” his deep voice reverberates through your entire body as he speaks directly into your ear. You melt into his grasp and your lips break into a smile that you couldn’t stop even if you tried. 

“Harry.” you say cheekily as your hands fall to hold onto his arm. He had just come back from an absolute killer karaoke performance next to your friend’s TV. The whole entire house was cheering for him as he belted out an incredible rendition of “Hopelessly Devoted to You”. Ever the performer, your boyfriend is, “you were amazing. As always.” you giggle and he presses a messy, wet kiss to your cheeks. 

He is absolutely glowing tonight. Surrounded by his family, friends, and you. He’s beyond ready to spend the next year being annoyingly in love with you and attached to your hip. In fact, that’s the thing he’s looking forward to the most about the new year, going through every milestone, change, and holiday with the love of his life. 

“Always strokin’ m’ego, petal. Looove you.” you laugh loudly at how inebriated he is and lean your head back against his shoulder to get closer to him. 

“I love you too, H. I think you’re cut off though.” you chuckle and you can hear the pout in his voice when he speaks. 

“Wha’? Wha’s wrong with you? M’not even that drunk m’love.” The irony of his words slurring while he’s trying to convince you that he isn’t drunk isn’t lost on you. You turn around to face him and it’s like his expression melts into a smile when he looks at you. 

You don’t know how you never noticed it before, the way he looks at you. He stares at you with so much awe, so much reverence. Ever since you’ve noticed it the first time, it’s the first thing that catches your attention when you guys are together. That damn look. 

“Y’so pretty.” He brings his hand up to stroke your face with his thumb. 

You turn your face to kiss his palm and he giggles childishly, mumbling something about it tickling.

It’s not long before the countdown starts. Harry and you look at each other in anticipation, wanting to commemorate the first time you guys expressed the affection for each other that’s only increased ten fold. 

9

8

“I think New Years is m’favorite holiday.” he mumbles out, looking down at you with that familiar fond look. 

6

“Yeah?” you giggle at his admission, “why’s that, H?” 

4

“S’cause it’s the day that I finally got you.” You can barely register the cheers of happy new year before his lips are on yours, claiming them and making you his. You pull away reluctantly to breathe and smile at him when you speak.

“I think it’s my new favorite too, baby.”

[lilystyles]

no strings attached.

this series is completed!! a @lilystyles series.

y/n and harry have always known each other and been in each other's lives, but harry's rapid rise in fame causes a drift between them. what happens when they find their way back to each other and act on the feelings they have always had?

or y/n is a virgin and she doesn't want to be, and harry is an old friend who doesn't mind helping her out.

virgin!reader x friendswbenefits!h

* * * * *

old friends

harry and y/n are old friends who reunite and quickly pick right back up where they left off. new tensions arise and a deal is struck up. (5k)

song for this chapter 'Old Friends' by Simon & Garfunkle.

watermelon sugar, highhhh

harry found a new muse for a new song. it's called watermelon sugar, dedicated to the sweetness between y/n's thighs. (5k)

song for this chapter 'Watermelon Sugar' by H.

comfort

y/n calls harry drunk and scared, harry picks her up and helps take care of her. the next morning y/n worries she'll scare him off, but of course, harry eases those worries. (4.5k)

song for this chapter 'Back to the Old House' by The Smiths.

bloom

y/n and harry go to dinner and something stronger blooms between them. (11.6k!!)

song for this chapter 'Hungry Eyes' by Eric Carmen.

rock the boat, baby!

y/n and harry are reminded of their teenage years and take a trip down memory lane on a camping trip. (8.7k)

song for this chapter 'Rock the Boat' by Hues Corporation.

one of us

karaoke night leads to a run-in with paparazzi. y/n's face is splashed everywhere, and harry doesn't know what to do. (5.3k)

song for this chapter 'One Of Us' by Abba.

stuck in the middle with you

y/n is the maid of honour and harry is the best man, what happens when they are forced to share a room? do they reconcile their issues or are they too far gone? (10.6k)

song for this chapter 'Silver Springs' by Fleetwood Mac.

* * * * *

blurbs for nostrings!H

can be found on my blurbs masterlist right here

more blurbs are coming soon upon request! please use my asks box.

just leave me a prompt or idea - maybe something you want to happen or thought about happening with nostrings!H :)

thank you for reading, this was my first ever series on tumblr love my babies sm 🫶🫶🫶🫶

so many more fics are coming soon i pinky swear! love u all so muchhhhhhh

[siriussslut]

hey so i was thinking.... fwb james?

yes yes yes omg thank u. i hope u like this!!!🫶🏻

warnings: smut obviously, & semi-public sex

part two, masterlist

the movie playing on the tv bathes the room in a soft blue glow. the whole group is piled into lily’s living room, barely squished onto the sofa. marlene and sirius sit perched against the couch on the floor.

you’re squished between remus and james, and your eyes have drifted away from the screen. james has a pillow sitting on his lap, and from where you sit you can see the erection he’s hiding behind it. his jeans stick up in a way that can only be uncomfortable.

you look back up at the screen, feigning nonchalance, but your hand drifts down to his jeans. you gently palm him through the denim, and he masks a surprised grunt with a cough. you can feel his gaze burning into the side of your head, but you don’t look away from the movie, refusing to look at the deer-in-headlights expression you know adorns his stupid face.

you lean down against his ear. “do you want me to stop?”

the two of you have been hooking up for the past few months now (though you remained nothing more than friends), but you didn’t want to assume he wanted anything at the moment.

“no,” he whispers, voice cracking as you continue your work on his boner.

you nod and lean away, slipping your hand down the waistband of his jeans. you snake under his briefs, fingers wrapping around his rock-hard cock. his tip is leaking with pre-cum, and you let it coat your hand as a makeshift lube. you swirl your fingers over the head of his dick, feeling him twitch beside you.

you grin and lower your fingers further down his shaft, down to his balls. you gently squeeze, and he attempts to casually place a hand in front of his mouth, blocking the soft moans escaping his lips. you squeeze harder and he coughs so loudly that mary gives him a look.

ignoring her, you run your hands up and down, grinning further and further after every shutter, grunt, and muffled moan he releases. he quickly comes into your palm with the stimulation, soaking through his briefs and onto his pants, covering your hand.

he looks at you wide-eyed as you pull your hand away. you slip a finger into your mouth, letting his cum coat your tongue as he watches.

he leans down to whisper in your ear, “i’ll get you off later, i promise.”