#harry styles reader insert fic

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Magnetic Part 2^**

A continuation of this fic where Harry cheats on his gf with Y/N and is basically pussy whipped.

Warnings: mentions of infidelity, heart break/break up, arguments/confrontations, mentions of alcohol & marijuana use, oral (f & m receiving) sex, unprotected sex, light dom/sub dynamic, light breeding kink, light pain kink, fingering, use of sex toy, daddy kink, forced orgasms.

WC:22K

HARRY’S POV

Things had been extremely quiet between Harry and his girlfriend since they got in the line for the valet and now well into the drive home. She was clearly upset at him, she was actively ignoring him when he’d glance over. But he was also a little bit frustrated with her for her attitude throughout the night. He was also annoyed that she tried to insinuate that you needed your uncle to find work, he had no idea where that had even come from! And while he had initially just thought about leaving it, the more he sat in silence with her, he needed to say something but he wasn’t sure how to bring it up without making her more upset at him. And as they got closer and closer to his house, he felt his emotions just forming a lump in his throat. He needed to say something.

“Babe.” He mumbled.

He waited a few seconds too long before he heard her respond, “Hm?” As she glanced up from her phone.

“You know I love you, right?” He asked and she nodded, “Which means I owe it to you to be honest with you.” He said and she straightened up.

“Yeah.” She confirmed. Harry licked over his lips and she swallowed the lump in her throat as she waited for him to keep talking, mentally preparing to hear the worst thing.

“I just…I can’t believe you tonight.” He sighed in disappointment, “I mean, what the fuck has gotten into you? You were so rude to Y/N!” He reprimanded her. She scoffed in disbelief.

“You can’t believe me?! I can’t believe you!” She raised her voice hand in the air as she gesticulated her frustration, “You have the hots for her!” She accused and he scoffed.

“I do not!”

“You were eye-fucking her all night, Harry!” She accused.

“All night?! We barely had a chat with them!” He shouted back as he turned to her, taking advantage of the red light. Her scowl melted into a dejected frown.

“All. Night. Harry.” She said emphatically. He could see the sadness in her eyes, it made his stomach turn.

He sighed and shrugged in defeat, “So what? She’s…she’s beautiful, I can’t…observe that?” He asked.

“You have a crush her.” She said and he frowned and immediately shook his head, denying her claim.

“No, I don’t!” He rebutted. 

“How do you know all those things about her, then?”

“We’re friends!” He exclaimed and just held her gaze for several seconds. “We’re friends.” He repeated.

“Light’s green.” She mumbled before turning away and Harry sighed and turned back to the road and took off. It grew silent again and he realized that he was feeling rather anxious about her finding out about him sleeping with you. He didn’t want her to find out. God, just seeing the hurt in her eyes now had him feeling completely gutted. He couldn’t do this to her and if it scared him then that was maybe a sign that he didn’t want to lose her, right?

“Babe.” He mumbled again.

“What?” 

“I’m sorry.” He apologized, “I did…look upon her lustfully.” He mumbled with a small smile and she turned towards him again. Harry glanced over quickly and was relieved to see her smile at him before he turned back to the road. 

“That’s all I wanted. For you to admit it.” She said.

“Okay, I admit it.” He said again, “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, s’all.”

“Have you…been with her before?” She asked next and he sighed. “Before us?”

“Yes.” He responded and she clenched her jaw momentarily before exhaling.

“Okay.” She mumbled lowly, “It was the past.” She said to not let it get to her and he nodded.

“Exactly.” He reiterated. She then reached over for his hand and he let her grab it. 

“I know she’s your friend but I don’t like her.” She decided and he nodded.

“That’s…fine, you don’t have to.” He chuckled a bit and she smiled upon hearing him say that. It was quite a relief to her that he didn’t expect her to get along with you, it made her feel like he was in her corner, which she really needed after feeling so insecure tonight.

“I love you.” She said to him.

“Love you.” Harry smiled.

****************

As soon as you got home after dropping Ian off, you scurried up to your room and stripped down and headed to your lingerie drawer; you wanted to dress up for Harry. You had lots of lingerie, not because you used it a lot but because sometimes you just liked to feel sexy and you’d wear it under outfits when you were feeling less than confident before a gig or project or around the house while doing mundane things like hoovering or watching TV; it was mainly for you. As you browsed through your options you landed on a black lace bustier. You grabbed that and got it on before digging around for the bottoms. When you located the basically sheer thong that went with the top, you slid it up your legs and set it into place. You then made your way over to your hair accessories drawer and pulled out a big chiffon bow clip. You did a tousled half up-half down sort of thing, taking advantage of your loose curls. You then touched up your make up and got on some lotion and perfume before jumping into bed. 

You knew he’d be a while so you started to watch a movie, but when it ended and he still wasn’t here you got a bit worried. You checked your phone and didn’t see anything from him. Maybe he was handling something with his girlfriend? Regardless, you waited around a little bit more, but when it hit 2am you knew he wasn’t going to come. You were definitely disappointed, but more worried than anything because he would’ve at least warned you. You didn’t want to text him in case his girlfriend saw, so you just got through your nighttime routine before putting on another movie to help lull you to sleep. After staring at the TV for about 20 minutes you sighed and just reached for your phone and opened a text to him.

Hey, I hope everything’s alright. 

You hit send without giving it too much thought and then a second later the bottom of your screen read “Not Delivered”. You instantly felt a lump form in your throat and then bit down on the inside of your cheek to localize the pain that would just pang throughout your entire body otherwise. You felt hollow from one moment to the next, so much so that it made you nauseous and you sat and just inhaled deeply before slowly releasing out your breath as your eyes started to well up. Your throat was burning as you tried to hold back the urge to cry. 

“Get it together, bitch, s’not even your man.” you mumbled to yourself before laying back down. You grabbed your phone again and just deleted your messaging feed with Harry. He had made his choice and you were left on the outside. But it was for the best. It was.

The following morning you felt more calm about it, of course you were sad, but it was good that he decided to focus on his relationship. Either way, your feelings for him were getting a little too strong, so it was far better this way. You didn’t know what led to him blocking your number, but you were glad he had, it gave you a sense of closure. As much as you wanted to be upset about it you had no right to be. And it’s not like you could talk to one of your friends about it without brining shame to yourself and to Harry. You knew that they wouldn’t judge you or be assholes about it, things happen! But admitting that you kept accepting his advances is what you were ashamed of. You didn’t feel too guilty about it until now, when you realized that you had no one to talk to about this because it was embarrassing to have gotten to this point. You just needed to move on and also, you owed Ian an explanation.

*****************

Harry was feeling a hollowness in his chest and some guilt for standing you up and surely disappointing you in the process. He cared for you and he liked you a lot but he had a girlfriend and he did care for her. Yeah, things could be better in some areas but no relationship was perfect, so he needed to stop expecting a perfect match in every aspect of the relationship. It just wasn’t realistic to expect that and he had to appreciate what he already had. To some maybe this sounded like he was settling, but he didn’t think so. He was doing the mature thing and honoring the commitment he made to someone else. This was the right thing to do, especially upon realizing that if he didn’t stop it now, he had no idea when or if he could down the line. It actually kind of terrified him because he didn’t even know if you liked him in the same way he liked you. You were so good at compartmentalizing in this area, and he could too if he tried, but he liked you too much to do that.

He swallowed down the knot that formed in his throat, “Fuck…” he mumbled as he stared up at the ceiling, suddenly being overcome by what he could only describe as grief. Why did it feel like that?

“Harry?” He heard in the distance, “Harry, what’s wrong?” His girlfriend asked as she stopped moving over him. He suddenly snapped back to reality, realizing that he had been so in his head that he’d forgotten he was in the middle of sex with her. He dug his elbows into the mattress to help him sit up and then he grabbed her hip.

“I want to stop.” He mumbled and she frowned, looking perplexed and hurt at his sudden shift in mood.

“Are you sure?” She asked, “I mean, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just don’t feel too good.” He grumbled and she slowly clambered off of his body.

“Can I get you anything?” She asked him and he shook his head.

“No, I’m just gonna have a shower. That should help.” He said and she nodded as he wordlessly got up and into the shower.

When he emerged from his shower he did feel a bit better, the anxiety of the choice he’d made had minimized enough that he could sit comfortably with it again. He had to stick to his guns not just for the sake of his relationship but for yours too. You didn’t deserve this, just pieces of someone’s attention and affection, you deserved someone’s whole heart. Thinking back on it now, asking you to tell him that you’d wait for him was the most selfish and cruel thing he had done to another person. It made his stomach sink once again and he felt this awful pang of hurt strike him right in the heart before radiating out to his fingertips.

“H?” He heard some taps on the door.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want some oatmeal with berries?”

“Sure.” He called back before looking up into the mirror again and sighing. He had made the right decision…it didn’t feel like it right now, but with time it could- no, it would, get better. He had to believe that.

…. ONE MONTH LATER ….

You were a little bit nervous as you were getting your dress on to go meet Ian. After the Harry thing, you came clean to him as to why you had abruptly ended your evening and Ian was hurt. He felt that you had connected really well and was looking forward to getting some alone time with you and so he was very disappointed to hear that. You then said that you actually did want to see him and he felt like you were just rebounding him and when you assured him you were not, he asked you to give him some time to figure out if he wanted to continue seeing you again and you agreed. He had reached out to you earlier in the week and asked to see you and you quickly agreed. You were actually looking forward to it and hoped that he’d give you another chance because you truly had a wonderful time with him and could see yourself starting to like him if you got to know him a little better. You were getting close to the bar he had told you to go to and kept an eye out for him up front and finally you saw him as your driver slowed down.

“Here we are, miss.” The older gentleman smiled.

“Thank you. Here you are.” You said handing him some cash, “I don’t need change.” You assured him and he thanked you before you opened up the door. Seconds later Ian was at the door, extending his arm for support as you climbed out.

“Hey, you look lovely.” Ian greeted you and quickly kissed your cheek and you did the same before pulling back.

“Thanks. You look great too!” You smiled as you looked him up and down before looking into his eyes again. He was quite a sharp dresser, you were impressed with his personal style. 

“What?” He sniggered.

“Nothing…” you smiled, “I’m glad you called.” You said with a small shrug and he smiled.

“C’mon, lets get inside.” He suggested and you nodded and followed behind him. 

You had a drink while you caught up over what you’d each been up to over the last few weeks and just as you recalled, he was charming, funny, smart…this man was a full fledged dream and you were willing to give him an honest shot. After you got another drink in you, you were well on your way to buzzed and were practically giggling at everything he was saying so you decided to share some spicy tuna on crispy rice boat things that just happened to hit the spot.

“Wow, those were phenomenal. Great suggestion.” You hummed as you carefully wiped around your mouth incase you had smeared your lipstick.

“Glad you liked it.” He smiled. “So…”

“So.” You responded with a playful smile as you looked up at him through your eyelashes.

“Obviously I…am attracted to you. I like you.” He said a bit timidly, breaking eye contact as he spoke the words, but then looking back at you.

“I like you too.” You assured him when he looked back into your eyes. You needed him to know that you meant it. Being vulnerable was a very hard thing for you but when it came to people’s feelings the least you could do was reciprocate it. It often made you feel a little bit foreign in yourself but the relief and pride you felt in yourself that came afterwards as a result of your candor did a great job of washing out any negative feelings.

“Ummm…I…I was engaged just a few months ago and we ended it because she cheated on me with her best friend.” He explained and your smile immediately disappeared and a frown took its place.

“Ian, I’m so sorry-”

“It’s fine.” He shook his head, “Well, it’s not fine, but I’m starting to be fine, I think.” He explained and you nodded. “But ummm…I’m not as ready to date as I thought I was. I think when I agreed to go to your aunt’s thing I mean…I just needed a night of fun. I wanted to get my mind off of things and it was great!” He added and you nodded, “But I’m not ready to continue seeing you as more than friends.” He explained and you felt like the bubble of your buzz had been burst as your throat suddenly felt like it was closing up.

“I get it.” You smiled softly. “And I continue to feel awful about being so abrupt to end our night out after how much fun we had-”

“Don’t be. I think if we had gone back to yours or mine I would’ve like cried during sex or something.” He chuckled with a little bit of embarrassment.

“Yikes…” you hissed jokingly, in an attempt to lighten the mood and he laughed, which you were glad he did. “I’m kidding, I mean…it happens.” You shrugged.

“I suppose.” He smiled and was more than grateful that you were taking this all in stride. “I think I’m also a little bit…scared of you.” He added and your brows furrowed in concern.

“W-why?” You asked cautiously and then regretted asking. Maybe you didn’t want the answer anymore.

“Like I love that you were so honest about what happened, I genuinely appreciate that! But the fact that you just have men at your disposal like that…it just…kind of made me feel…unsafe.” He said and your frown deepened, “Which was such a contrast from how things felt at the party so it was like an emotional whiplash for me. And this is not to say you’re in the wrong for this! You have every right to do as you please, you’re a smart, beautiful, and fun single person, you know? That’s not…like I’m not trying to shame you for what you do in your own time, it’s me. Like…I don’t know how to not feel…upset by it?”

“It’s still fresh, what you’ve been through with your ex-fiancé.” You clarified and he nodded.

“Yeah, I think that’s the main issue here. Clearly I’m not emotionally or psychologically prepared for anything with anyone right now. Sorry.” He apologized sincerely and you smiled and shook your head.

“I understand, Ian. There’s no need to be sorry.” You assured him, “If anything, I’m even more sorry for making you feel that way! It was a super shitty thing to do and you didn’t deserve that.” With your gaze cast down at your hands, you apologized, but you felt even worse now because you were exactly the kind of person who had hurt him before. You were disappointed in yourself for being so careless with other people’s feelings; it was so disappointing.

Clearly, you had no regard for another person’s relationship and had slept with a taken man. Friend or not, it was a line that never should have been crossed, even the first time had been a little suspect to anyone looking from the outside in. Seeing Ian being so affected by his ex had you feeling truly ashamed over everything with Harry for the first time as you imagined how shitty his girlfriend would feel if she ever found out. It was easy to shut that off when you were with Harry or at least when you were on speaking terms, but the distance between you two and now Ian’s own experience was forcing you into giving every single possible consequence some thought and it was awful.

“Ummm…you don’t have to tell me but w-was it…Harry?” He asked, his volume lowering significantly when he spoke his name. You quickly glanced up and met his inquisitive gaze and after a few seconds he smiled knowingly and you bit your lip and looked away as your eyes started to well up. Not with hurt but actually with shame. You felt absolutely disgusting. “Hey…w-what’s wrong?” He asked and you just shook your head.

“I…kind of hate myself for it right now.” You got out and he reached for your hand.

“Hey, we all make mistakes.” He reassured you, “I’ve been there too.” He confessed and you sighed, “Look, just because I’m the victim now doesn’t mean I haven’t been the one in the hot seat.” He said with a smile and you chuckled a bit and nodded.

“Yeah…I just never thought I was capable of doing something like that…but when it’s just so…right…” you sighed, “You forget about everyone else.”

“Yeah.” He replied, he was full of understanding, which you were more than grateful for.

“How did you know? What did I do?” You asked as you rolled your eyes up, slightly irritated at yourself for not being as discreet as you believed you were. But Ian shook his head at you before responded.

“It wasn’t you at all actually, it was…all him.” He chuckled and you looked back into his eyes again. “When he would look at you it was like…you’re the eighth wonder of the world.” He explained and your heart literally fluttered in your chest. “As you were talking he like…followed your every move, reacted to every little thing. Almost as if you were the center of everything…” he shared and you licked over your lips nervously, you were doing your very best to not let this information go to your head.

“And you know this how?” You asked instead as you looked at him inquisitively.

“He’s a handsome guy! I was looking at him too.” He chuckled with a shrug and you giggled as well and nodded.

“Yeah…that he is.” You nodded in agreement.

After that you got on to a lighter topic but your mind was in some distant place thinking about Harry. About what Ian had just described to you. You’d looked at Harry like he was the center of the universe before too… 

…. 22 JULY, 2023….

You always thought he was attractive, but seeing him at the Reggio show from the friends and family section had put him on another plane for you. You had a great view of the stage and of him and the big screen with him on it. The beautiful, powerful chords of the intro to Golden filled the air around you, the bass so strong that you felt a tickle beneath your feet as the earth reverberated with his music. The beautiful, golden lights glowing behind him made him look like a god. In that moment you were filled with pride and awe, you wished he was yours to love on after everything was over. But a few people behind you was the girl he was seeing. You were standing by Jeffrey and Glenne, you were exchanging excited glances as he walked up to the mic and greeted the crowd in Italian. One hundred thousand people simultaneously cheered in response. You’d never heard anything like it! It made your heart skip a beat as your voice joined the battalion of them.

You bit your lip as your eyes honed in on his big, buff arms flexing as he strummed his guitar. You were trying not to get carried away thinking about how you’d bitten into the “can I stay” inked into his skin just a few days before in Portugal. You started laughing happily as you looked right at him, just about to burst with excitement and pride for him. And then his eyes met yours and it’s like the sound just dropped off and everything was muted down and delayed. You swear an eternity passed by as you watched his lips turning up until there was a bright and flirtatious grin on his face as he very quickly looked you up and down. 

Your heart was hammering in your chest, you were aching to feel his lips on yours one more time…then he turned away and continued with his performance.

You were awestruck by him. You watched him give it his entire heart and soul to his audience that day, he didn’t want to go, he didn’t want it to end. And when it all ended and you were all hanging back and having celebratory drinks you got a brief moment with him when you’d run into each other outside of the bathroom. You hugged him for a few moments and smiled so wide.

“Was I good?” He asked.

“You were phenomenal. It was iconic!” You praised him as you pulled back, “I’m so proud of you, H!” You insisted passionately and he chuckled.

“Thank you. I’m happy you’re here.” He said and you smiled.

“Thank you for having me.” You chuckled. He grabbed your face gently and let his thumbs stroke over the high points of your cheeks. He smiled softly as he held eye contact with you for a few seconds before you blinked your gaze away, “Ummm…you should probably get back there. I heard your dad asking around for you.” You informed him.

“You met my dad?” He asked and you nodded, “Brad introduced us. I accidentally cursed in his face.” You sputtered on a laugh and he knocked his head back in laughter as he laughed from deep in his belly.

“What?! How?!” He questioned.

You laughed and shook your head, “He was like, “H didn’t do too bad, did?” And I was like, “Oh yeah, he was so fucking brilliant!”, I was so excited for you!” You laughed as you explained, “I watched his eyes go wide at my passion. He’s definitely gonna warn you about me.” You joked and Harry slid his hand down and then ran his thumb over your bottom lip.

“You’re so fucking cute.” He grinned.

“Yeah, so are you. Now go on.” You insisted and he looked at you suggestively with those pretty, bedroom eyes, “Go, H.” You said again.

“You’re right.” He hummed as he let go and sighed before stepping around you as if nothing had happened.

“Hey, Harry!” You called after him and he turned around, “For the record, I’m like…always right.” You smirked smugly and his lip twitched up as well.

“Noted.” He winked before disappearing for the rest of the night

….Flashback Over….

You blinked quickly a few times, not really sure how long you’d been zoned out for, “Sorry…” you apologized quickly.

“It’s alright. Touchy subject?”

“Yeah…just a bit.” You smiled and shrugged, “It’s fine…but we just haven’t talked since then.” You explained.

“He fucked you and then ditched you?!” Ian asked with a frown.

“Oh no…no, he changed his mind. He actually never showed. Which I’m so proud of him for but with that came like a no contact thing so it’s been weird just guessing what he might be up to. It’s kinda weird because we are friends, so…” you trailed off.

“Oh okay…I was about to say he’s a fucking prick.” He chuckled and you smiled and shook your head.

“Nah, he’s quite the opposite. It’s fucking infuriating.” You giggled and he nodded as he withdrew his hand. 

“I want to keep in touch, YN. I mean, maybe down the line when I’m more…myself we could try if we’re both still interested.” He said and you smiled.

“Yeah, I’d really like that.” You agreed.

At the end of the night you shared a taxi home, he wanted to make sure you got in okay. As soon as you made it past the threshold of your front door, your phone started pinging and you dug it out of your purse. You saw it was Goldie, she’d sent several good luck messages and that you should catch up about it the following day if possible. You smiled and just called her. It was barely half past eight, she should be awake. When the phone stopped ringing you spoke into the receiver.

“Hey, G. You alright?” You asked as you slipped out of your heels.

“Hey, good and you? How’d it go on the date?”

“Ummm, it was more of a “lets quit while we’re ahead” type of thing actually.” You chuckled in response, “But thanks for checking in.” You smiled. You couldn’t wait to have a cup of tea and do anything to distract you from the slight disappointment you were feeling.

“Boo…” she replied and you shrugged. “So what you’re home now?”

“Yeah, literally just got in.” You replied.

“Do you need a distraction?” She asked and you smiled.

“I certainly could.” You smiled.

“Okay, I’m actually out with Sam right now, we’re having drinks at The Ivy while we wait on Paul.” She shared, “Come! I don’t want to third wheel!” She insisted, you slightly heard Sam asking who he was inviting, “Y/N, her date night was cut short.” She explained as you seriously weighed out her invitation.

“I don’t know…I just got in…” you grumbled.

“Which means you’re already dressed up anyway!” She reasoned and you sighed and shrugged.

“Sold.” You giggled.

“Yay! We’ll see you here soon!”

“See you soon.” You agreed and quickly went touch up your make up and get on a little more perfume before rushing out of the house again and walking to the main street to catch a cab. When you got in you spotted Goldie, Sam, and Paul chatting at the bar. Goldie grinned wide and waved you over with a bright smile.

“Hi!” She beamed.

“Hey everyone!” You smiled as you walked up and greeted everyone with a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, “What’s going on?” You asked as you looked between them.

“We’re just waiting for them to figure out the table situation. Harry ended up tagging along with Paul, they just finished watching Swan Lake. We didn’t tell him that we had asked you to join already so they’re just waiting for a booth to clear up for us now.” Sam explained and you smiled and nodded but your mouth went completely dry. 

You could feel your heart starting to hammer in your chest and you were terrified of having to face him. It filled you with anxiety. You couldn’t look at him and feel unfazed yet, it would just make you feel awful and guilty and like a complete piece of shit. Your stomach was twisting and your brain working against you as it came up with catastrophic situations and fed into your anxiety.

“Ummm G, I suddenly am not feeling well.” You said softly to her and she frowned in concern. She was just about to ask you what was wrong when Paul raised his arm, capturing her and your attention.

“H, over here!” Paul spoke up and you were suddenly feeling full of anxiety as Harry surely approached the group. You didn’t want to turn around…you couldn’t face him yet. You weren’t ready!

“Hey, thank you for ummm….” He paused briefly as his eyes landed on you, “For waiting.” He finished and Paul nodded and smiled. He then proceeded to greet everyone and you very stiffly hugged him back. 

He started talking to Sam about the ballet and how incredible it had been. You were certain that if you had also been able to sit through several hours of Tchaikovsky before this run in you’d be just as composed as he was, if not more. You looked him over and smiled a bit, he was really letting loose. His hair was looking a little messy and he was growing it into some long-lost Gallagher brother-esque faux hawk-mullet hybrid that you were really loving. And his facial hair was looking fuller than before. You wanted to think he was letting himself go a bit because he missed you, but even if that were the case, he still looked infuriatingly good. And well, in his true fashion of always having to do something a little raunchy and edgy, he was wearing a t-shirt that said: I LIKE TO WATCH. If you hadn’t been so anxious about seeing him you would’ve rolled your eyes and commented it on it, maybe even gotten a lot turned on by his brazenness, but you were just trying to keep it together right now. 

Moments later you were being guided into the booth and you ensured to stay on the end in case you just needed to leave quickly at som point. Much to your dismay, he was across from you and also doing everything in his power to prevent himself from looking at you. You had soon ordered your drink and everyone else did the same plus some food. Even if you were feeling peckish, you weren’t sure you could stomach anything other than liquids at this moment.

“So what happened with your date, Y/N?” Sam asked and then everyone’s attention focused on you. You felt put on the spot and but responded anyway.

“Ummm…I kind of…messed up a tiny bit after our first date.” You explained and then frowned a bit, “That’s…a lie. I majorly messed up. And he was taking some time to think if I was worth the risk, I guess? But as he thought about it he concluded that he’s not ready to see anyone in any serious capacity right now so we’re just going to stay friends.” You summarized your conversation with Ian from earlier in the evening “And well…here I am now.” You shrugged with a tightlipped smile.

“So he asked you on a date to tell you he wasn’t going to date you?” Paul questioned.

“Well, I think I just got excited and assumed it was a date. But ummm…it wasn’t so…” you shrugged before sipping more from your drink nervously.

“So you’ve been single for a while?” Sam asked. You’d known Paul for quite a while, even before he and Sam got together, so while you’d known Sam for a few years now, he wasn’t really in your circle until more recently.

“A while is…putting it nicely.” You mumbled in slight embarrassment, “Try five years.” You chuckled and his eyes went wide.

“Holy shit!”

“Look, it’s not for lack of effort! I go on dates a lot but ummm, nothing has…panned out really.” You shrugged as you glanced down at a little snagged piece of fabric on the table cloth.

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, Y/N but you give “fixer” vibes.” Sam said and you looked at him in confusion.

“What does that mean?”

“Sam-” Paul started but he brushed him off.

“It’s not a bad thing! But she seems like the kind of person that makes men wish they were single again.” He said and Harry reached for his drink then, “Like look at her! She’s gorgeous and talented and smart and a fucking laugh! So when they inevitably get bored of their girlfriends and end it, they go to her and she shows them life can be fun again.” He said and you smiled slightly at him, “That getting to know someone and being with them can be exhilarating! And being the sweetheart you are,” he glanced to you, “you take care of these people. You nourish them, support them emotionally and physically…You breathe life back into them, you know?” You nodded in understanding, “And then how do they repay her kindness? They leave her high and dry despite all of the good things she did for them. That’s a fixer. Not like she seeks them out to fix them, but they need fixing and they just come to her in order to…feel something again but it’s never reciprocated.” He explained and you were trying so hard not to cry and scream “YES! THAT’S EXACTLY MY LIFE!” 

“Jesus…That’s an awful thing to say, Sam.” Paul said with disapproval and he frowned.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, Y/N.” Sam apologized quickly. “I’ve had a lot to drink already and I wasn’t thinking.” He said reaching over Goldie’s hands to grab your own and you just smiled at him and shook your head.

“Aw Sam, it’s alright, I know you didn’t mean it in a bad way. I’m not offended.” You reaffirmed, “If anything I’m…happy there’s a term for it! Thank you!” You smiled sincerely and he smiled at you with a tenderness in his eyes.

“You’re so fucking gracious.” He sighed, completely in awe of you, “I don’t deserve you as a friend.” He shook his head.

“I promise you, we’re so good, Sam. Don’t worry about it.” You reassured him and he nodded. It was still quiet at the table for a few more seconds and it was killing you, “Anyway…why didn’t you two go to the ballet?” You asked Goldie and Sam.

“We weren’t invited. Harry only invited Paul.” Sam explained with a sassy smile as he side-eyed Harry who scoffed.

“I told you I was only gifted two tickets!” Harry said. And well, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was gifted two tickets…why he hadn’t taken his girlfriend along?

“So? You can afford it, Harry.” Goldie said matter of factly, a moment of silence passed before you all burst into laughter at Goldie’s comment.

“Jesus, I didn’t know everyone was so into the fucking ballet.” He mumbled making you all continue laughing.

  “You didn’t think maybe your friends would want to spend time with you?”

“Not on my dime.” He joked.

“It’s how the rich the stay rich.” Sam shrugged as you all laughed along.

“I kid…” Harry smiled easily, “Next time.” He assured and Goldie looked at him with raised eyebrows, “I promise.” He chuckled and she grinned.

“I’ll be waiting.” She hummed and then the topic changed again to something else that wasn’t you and you were more than grateful about that.

You were getting tired mentally from going against every single signal your brain would send, tempting you to just stare at Harry and get lost in him. It was like there was this pull that drew you to his movements, you just wanted to sit and admire him. You wished you could scoot in beside him and feel his warmth coming off of him. You wondered if in another world you could do just that. Yeah, you knew that he probably missed you, but he hadn’t picked you. You needed to stop being so pathetic by wishing for a miracle. Especially by staying so hung up on him despite the time that had transpired and the circumstance you two had been in. You just needed to collect yourself for a moment.

“I’m going to the bathroom. Be right back.” You said lowly to Goldie before standing and heading off. You heard Harry say, “Me too.” before the sound of his foot steps got closer and closer to you. You started walking a bit faster to make it there before he had the chance to catch up to you because you didn’t need this right now. You needed the distance so fucking bad, no matter how much you wanted him close by.

“Hey, wait up!” He called out as he fastened his pace to catch up with you.

“I was getting up to get away from you, you know?” You said with a smile as he came up beside you.

He glanced to you quickly, “Sorry.” He smiled and you turned back to look ahead of you. “Are you doing anything after this?” He asked you and you glanced to him with an insulted look on your face and suddenly he gasped and grabbed your arm hard and pulled you into him.  “Almost crashed into a waiter.” He informed and you glanced up at him.

“Thanks.” You said and he nodded.

“And I don’t mean it like that.” He said, “Just want to talk. I have some things I need to say.” He said as you stopped before the bathroom doors.

“I’ll think about it.” 

“Okay, thank you. I’ll offer you a ride home and ummm, if you decline then that’s that. Sound good?” He asked and you nodded in agreement before you hurried into the bathroom. You just looked in the mirror, weighing out your options. Of course you wanted to hear what he had to say, you couldn’t avoid him forever, and you had to start practicing your self control sooner or later. You could do this. 

After Harry asked to talk to you and you had decided to hear what he had to say, time seemed to be moving slower than ever. Hearing him out could potentially help you move on as well, but now that you wanted to hear it it was like everything was preventing that from happening, it was making you second guess yourself and you started debating it in your head. Then, the next thing you knew Harry was standing before you asking,

“Do you want a ride home? The driver is heading your way after dropping me off.” He looked at you expectantly and everything fell still as you nodded.

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thank you so much.” You accepted and you watched as his lips turned up as he assured you it was no big deal. 

You started saying goodbye to the rest of your friends before you were following Harry to the curb where his driver was waiting. You settled in as he shared the new plan for the evening with his driver for the night, Jaime. Next, he put up the partition before settling into his seat. He glanced up at you as he pulled out his phone.

“Address is still the same?” He asked and you nodded and he started typing away and sent it off to the driver before setting it aside and looking at you.

“What did you need to say?” You asked and he sighed.

“That I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for putting you in the position I did.” You shook your head.

“It wasn’t just you. I was a willing participant.” You added.

“But I always sought you out.” He said and you smile slightly and nodded, it was true.

“Well, I accept your apology. Thanks for that.”

“It’s the least I could do.” He said as he reached for your hand and you let him take it and you gave him a squeeze before letting go.

“What made you change your mind?” You asked and he smiled a bit.

“We were fighting about you in the car and it hit me that I was terrified of her ever finding out about this. Like, I genuinely felt scared of losing her.” He said and you nodded in understanding. “Was the guy you had seen tonight still the guy from the party? The professor?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yep.” You confirmed.

“Bummer. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” You sighed. “I…really hit him where it hurt. His fiancée was cheating on him, so when I left him for you, he…just took it really hard.”

“Shit…” Harry frowned and you nodded.

“I know. It put a lot into perspective for me and like…I don’t want to be that person either. I don’t want hurt anyone like that. This isn’t fair.”

“Yeah.” Harry agreed, “I want to be friends though. You’re fucking sick.” He said with a genuine smile and you smiled down at your hands .

“Thanks, so you are you, Harry.”

“You know something? I still can’t get over the fact that your favorite song is Burning Love.” He mumbled through a widening grin. “It’s just…you don’t seem like the type to listen to Elvis.”

“I don’t. Just that song because that’s what my favorite burger is called from the Red Robin burger chain, I’d sing it every time I’d have one and it grew on me.” You shrugged with a smile and he chuckled.

“You’re fucking lovely, you know that?” He asked and you giggled and rolled your eyes playfully. Then a silence took over you two and he sighed, “I know I just said that I was afraid of losing her but ummm…can I just say that things at home have been…a little rough lately?”

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked.

“Do you mind?” He asked back and you shook your head.

“I don’t.” You assured him.

“Well, I don’t know…like I’m prioritizing us more, but I don’t know…when issues keep coming up and like…I feel I’m always the one having to compromise or apologize, you know? She doesn’t like to work through things as they come up and it kills me. You know how I am…” he said and you nodded, “And if I want to resolve anything I always have to take the blame and it takes a toll, even though I know it’s not always my fault.” He vented, “Anyway, she’s out of town right now, s’why she didn’t go with me tonight. But it’s for the best, I think. I just need a little space after we argue about something big.” He explained.

“I’m sorry, Harry.” You said comfortingly. “But you know, sometimes things get a little worse before they take a turn for the better.”

“You’re right.” He decided after a few pensive moment, “I really am trying to make that better s’also why I’ve been so distant from you. I’m just trying to prioritize her and us. It’s not because…you “fixed” me and I bailed on you, or whatever Sam was saying.” He explained with a roll of his eyes, clearly still very irritated at what Sam had said.

“Well, I can’t say I wasn’t expecting it at some point.” You shrugged with a small smile.

“But did it…feel that way for you? That you were…fixing the things I didn’t like about myself in my relationship?” He asked and you shook your head.

“Not with you.” You assured, “What was there to fix? I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you for not liking everything about your relationship or how it’s panning out. As long as there are humans involved there are bound to be good and bad things, you know? And I mean, we’re all different and have different likes and needs. I mean, was it a dick thing for us to do? Of course it was but…I think what needed to happen, happened. And well, at the end of the day you realized that she’s more important to you than the sex! And that’s great. I mean, I’m happy for you. I’m glad that you figured that out.” you said with a smile, despite feeling like your heart was withering away little by little. You then looked out the window as you saw the scenery changing, indicating you were nearing his side of town.

“Hey.” He reached for your hand again and you turned back to him again, “I just wanted you to know that yeah, the sex was…incredible,” he smiled bashfully, “but it wasn’t just that for me.” He said and your lips turned down in a small pout as his words registered in your brain. “I started to blur the lines a lot, I mean, you know that and you always set me straight and it…hurt though. And seeing you with that guy-”

“Ian.” You added and he nodded.

“Yeah, seeing you with Ian at that party made me so upset. I could see that you guys were into each other. It’s why I went and found you afterwards.” He confessed, “I wanted you to have me fresh on your mind if anything were to happen between you two.” He explained shamefully and your eyes filled with sadness, “I was selfish and I…was so out of line for that and then just…left you hanging.” He sighed with a sad smile on his face. Your eyes were threatening to spill the tears that were already built up in them, effectively blurring your vision. 

“And now, hearing what went down with him I feel like shit because I took that opportunity from you. I literally ruined that for you to just give you pieces of my attention when you deserve far more than that.” He frowned, “And while I have acted so selfishly when it comes to you, I really want you to know that I wasn’t just using you for sex. Like I can’t help but think that if we had run into each other again just even a few months earlier on the tour then we would probably be-”

“Don’t.” You whispered as your tears started to spill over when he said that. He looked to you with concern as you sniffled, “Fuck me…” You whispered spitefully at yourself and he quickly reached over to grab a few tissues from the box nestled into the holder before him. You took them and expertly dabbed at your eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” He apologized.

“It’s fine.” You mumbled as you dabbed beneath your nose as well.

“It’s not though.” He pressed as he watched you trying to keep it all together right now.

“It is, Harry!” You snapped suddenly. The silence that followed between the two of you was deafening. “It has to be fine.” You insisted assertively. It wasn’t even three seconds before you immediately regretted your explosive reaction, “I’m so sorry for raising my voice at you, Harry.” You apologized immediately and his gaze softened. 

He admired you so fucking much. You were so good at this part, at the hard things. You listened to understand, not to respond and fight back. He felt safe sharing everything with you, he wasn’t afraid that you would judge him like he feared his girlfriend would sometimes. The proof was even in your sexual relationship, you tried things with him that he had been judged for in the past just because they probably weren’t expected to be part of his preferences. He certainly had a deeper interest in you, just based off of the time your lips weren’t attached to each others, you connected so well. You could talk about things as silly as your preferred brand of ketchup or as serious and daunting as the state of the world, and then find a way to transition into passionate and genuine sex, the most primal form of human connection. So…when he had moments like this, where he was reminded of how fortunate he was to know you, things got a little bit murky in his brain, which is why he responded to your outburst in the following manner.

“It’s alright, angel.” He reassured you as he grabbed your face gently in his hand. The term of endearment he used for you just slipped out and made him fall into this much more intimate space that you two had shared before. When he realized what he had done he sighed, “Maybe this was a bad idea.” He said as he pulled away. Watching him go from so vulnerable to regretful of it was so painful and he could see it in your eyes, “I never intended to hurt you with this.” He said with a sense of remorse sinking into his chest, it was making him feel like breathing was getting harder to do.

“No, I needed to hear all of this to…help me move on.” You said and that made his guts twist with hurt, but he nodded along with a small and unconvincing smile anyway. 

You could see in his eyes that his mind was off somewhere far, far away from this place. You too wanted to be so far removed mentally and emotionally, but you really needed to bask in the hurt and the feelings of disappointment of what could’ve been so that you could just really get it through your head that this was absolutely done. Yeah, you wanted to stay friends but you both needed to shake your feelings before you could be together in any space again without feeling that pull that was still there, even now. 

“Ummm, I know we said that we want to stay friends, but I think we need to give it some time just to…not risk repeating history, you know?” You suggested.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” He agreed as you guys turned onto his street. You looked out the window as you drifted off into thought.

One of your friends from university had contacted you about coming to help with his debut album, it would require you going back to America for at least three months. Maybe more if any major changes or hitches occurred in the project. You hadn’t decided yet, but maybe you should do it. A change of scenery and pace could help you move on. You could reconnect with old friends, meet new people, get your creativity flowing…this could be really good for you.You remained silent until you were pulling up to the perimeter gate around his property line.

“Well…” you sighed as the large gates started to part after the driver input the code.

“Do you need the bathroom or water or anything before you go?” He asked and you shook your head. You knew better than to go into his house right now that his girlfriend was gone. You knew he was just being polite, he didn’t mean it suggestively.

But then again, with your prior arrangement, he could have you even now if he wanted. You’d let him. You’d want him so long as he wanted you, so you it was easy to give him that power over you. He knew that already and with one shared gaze you could see that he was thinking exactly what you’d been thinking. You smirked knowingly and he just smiled so brightly as he grabbed your face and smushed his lips to your forehead. 

“Cheeky.” He mumbled before pulling back to meet your gaze again.

“Said the pot to the kettle.” You sniggered and he smiled down at you.

“Take good care of yourself, love.” He said as the car rolled slowly to a stop.

“You too, H.” You smiled as he leaned in to hug you. You quickly kissed cheeks before he pulled back and slid out of the backseat. He rounded over to the driver’s side and you rolled the window down to see him off.

“Jaime, thank you so much mate.” Harry said as he handed him over a generous cash tip.

“H, not this again.” He said pressing it back towards Harry.

“If not for me, at least for making the extra stop.” He said, “Please. I insist.”

“This is the last time.” He grumbled and Harry chuckled.

“Alright, well get her home safe, for me. Precious cargo.” Harry said as he smiled at you.

“Certainly, H. Good night.” Jaime said and he bid him goodnight before reaching for your hand and holding on until Jaime had driven you far enough that your hands pulled apart. You slid back into the window and rolled it up. You didn’t even feel like crying, you felt alright for now. But the important thing was that you left each other well and that was the best thing that could’ve happened. Yeah, it hurt that it seemed like you’d missed each other in life but at least there were memories you could share.

…. TWO MONTHS LATER ….

You were currently crowded into the corner of the rooftop at The Roosevelt for some fashion ambassadors event by some brand. Your friend, Monty had been booked as the entertainment for the evening and he pulled you in to play the bass for his band at the last minute. You were just grooving along as you played “Something” by The Beatles. You loved playing this song, it had such a fun and iconic bass line. And as you looked around the crowd you caught a glimpse of Harry’s girlfriend in the audience, she was looking right at you and when your gazes met she turned away and started talking to the person behind her. You found that odd, but decided to leave it. You’d only interact if your paths crossed.

But just as fate would have it, as you walked up to the open bar during a break in the set, you both just happened to break through the crowd at the same time and stepped up to the bar together. She glanced at you and you smiled at her.

“Hey. It’s nice to see you again.” You greeted her politely.

“Hi.” She smiled half-heartedly and her gaze was kind of cold.

“How are you?” You asked her a bit awkwardly.

“I’m fine and you?” 

“I’m good. Been pretty good, been out here for a couple months already for work.” You shared and she hummed with a polite smile. It was awkward because you really weren’t friends or anything, so you decided to bring up the person who had been the common link between you two. “H-how’s Harry?” You asked and her smile dropped immediately.

“Look Y/N, I’m sure you’re a nice person but I don’t want you going near him anymore. I don’t care if you’re friends. I’m sorry if that offends you, but I just don’t trust you.” She said lowly. You didn’t know if he had told her what had transpired between you two but it’s the only thing that made sense. And because of this, you nodded in response, letting her know you understood and respected her wishes. She looked hesitant before speaking again, but said it anyway, “I know you…slept with him.” She informed you, voice still softer than before and your throat dried up. 

You couldn’t breathe and you just felt completely humiliated as you looked right in her face as she said this to you. But now it made sense, why she was acting so cold towards you. She knew what you and Harry had done and now you had to face the music, like an adult. No excuses and no shifting blame. All you could do now was apologize to her for sleeping with her boyfriend and assure her that it was purely carnal and it would never happen again.

“I’m so sorry. I know you might not believe me but I mean, I feel awful about the whole thing. I swear it wasn’t more than those couple of times and it was purely physical. I haven’t tried to contact him at all or-”

“Couple of times? Why would you feel bad about sleeping with him before?” She questioned with confusion and you suddenly felt your stomach drop to the ground as you realized that she in fact didn’t know the full story. Well, now she did and you could see the cogs in her brain turning as she pieced the information together.

Harry had told her something else and you had no fucking clue what that had been! You knew you had to get out of this somehow, but you were completely frozen as the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. It’s not like you could take back what you had said. But if you could give anything up in the world to turn back time and say something else, you would. Your eyes started welling up as you felt this sense of doom starting to seep into your body, it traveled from deep in your guts to the rest of your body as she looked at you expectantly. You shook your head and she stepped closer to you.

“How many times, Y/N?” She asked and you shook your head again, “Fucking tell me.” She pressed, trying to keep her anger at bay.

“Four or five times. I-i think.” You stammered as your tears started to streak down your cheeks.

“When was the last time?” She asked and you swallowed thickly as you fought to keep the words in. “Y/N.” She pressed and you sniffled.

“Look, he loves you and he-”

“Tell me, you fucking slut.” She hissed quietly, all you could see in her eyes was rage.

“M-march.” You said and she inhaled deeply and pressed her lips together for a second before looking off as she processed the information. She then turned to you with disgust painted all over her features, “Fuck you. Stay the hell away from him or else. Do you understand?” She admonished and you nodded quickly as you blinked back tears before hurrying off. 

You were panicking as you searched around for Monty, he had the room key for the suite you had been given to hang out in during the day. And right now you needed to get to your phone and warn Harry before she got a chance to go off on him. You were weaving through the crowd trying to find Monty and then you spotted Harry’s girlfriend leaving the event with her phone pressed to her ear and a scowl on her face. That image alone made your stomach turn uncomfortably and one single thought crossed your mind: Harry was going to hate you forever now.

****************

Waiting for Harry to call you was miserable. Hours passed, then, it had been a day. Then, two days. Then, a week. And once that week hit you were resigned to the fact that even your friendship with him was over and that’s why he wasn’t talking to you. You hadn’t meant to sabotage him or his relationship, but you’d made his worst fear come true. You were dying to reach out but you were scared that you’d just make things worse. 

But also, how the hell were you supposed to know that he’d said something else about your relationship? But just the way that she had been acting towards you made you believe that she knew that you two had slept together while they were dating. If he’d been single when you slept together there was no need to for her to be acting upset or cold towards you unless she was just extremely jealous. Which now, was more than justified. The only other person you could turn to at the moment was Ian because he had figured it out on his own, but you didn’t want to bother him with any of this. It wasn’t his to fuss over and he was still dealing with his own infidelity problems. Your time in LA was coming to a close quickly and you were petrified.

You were so nervous to go home. The community in London was quite small and word got around fast, especially when the gossip involved someone as famous as Harry, it was one of the downsides of his success. But if you had made the mistake, then you needed to face the consequences of the mistake as well. If you lost friends or if people stopped trusting you then, so be it. You had done something awful and you had to tough it out.

“Hey.” You heard and turned around to see your friend Monty stepping out onto the small balcony that came with his apartment. 

“Hi.” You responded with a small smile and he came over and plopped down into the seat beside you and exhaled slowly, like he was letting something off of his chest. 

You were crashing in his guest bedroom for the duration of your stay and were taking advantage of the Southern California sunsets while you had the chance to. Your trips to America were mostly to New York and it was so different than this. People were in a rush here too, like in every big city, but they were so much nicer about it here. Well, so long as your decision making didn’t take time out of their day. Regardless, you weren’t ready to go back to the reality surely awaiting you in London.

“You alright?” He asked and you nodded, “Sure? You’ve been…weird.” He said with a small smile and you sighed.

“I did a bad thing, Monty.” You said and he frowned, “A really bad thing.”

“D-do you want to talk about it?” He asked and you smiled.

“Depends…just promise you won’t judge me too harshly.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He replied and you smiled, but then it faded away and you sighed.

“I…had sex with one of my friends. Multiple times. But he’s…in a relationship.” You admitted and he turned to you.

“That’s it?” He asked seriously, but seconds later a smile broke past his lips and you chuckled.

“Thanks for trying…” You mumbled and he laughed.

“Yeah, of course.” He chuckled, “But ummm, seriously, there are worse things you could do, Y/N.” He said.

“I suppose so…”

“More seriously though, we all make mistakes. And I know you well and I know that you wouldn’t just do that for anyone. You must really care about him if you were willing to break all the rules for him.”

“I do. But feelings don’t justify hurting another person. And well…I ran into his girlfriend at the gig last week and she said that she knew we had slept together and so I assured her that it was just those couple times but she didn’t know it was a couple of times or that it was recent. She thought this had happened while he was still single, which the first time we did, he was!” You explained, “But her confrontation made me panic and I…spilled my guts! So I…did a bad thing and then probably ruined his relationship on top of that.” You sighed, still feeling the guilt making you feel sick to your stomach.

“Let me stop you right there.” Monty smiled, “You didn’t ruin their relationship. He ruined it himself by pursuing you. If he truly loved the person he was with, nothing could make him stray. So stop taking responsibility for things that aren’t yours to be responsible for. You hear me?” He asked and you nodded a few times with a small smile. “Next thing, forgive yourself in your own and don’t do it ever again. You learned the lesson didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” You confirmed.

“Then stop torturing yourself and move on.” He advised, “It might take time, but take the first step now. Sitting here and torturing yourself over something that’s in the past is not going to do anything for you or for them.”

“He hasn’t…reached out or anything. I really thought he would.” You said with a small voice and Monty hummed.

“But, you know what that means then, right? That he’s…made his decision and it’s not you.” Monty stated and you exhaled shakily as a few silent tears streaked down your face. 

“You’re right.” You concurred before looking ahead again, watching the sky change colors as the sun sunk deeper and deeper into the horizon. 

********************

You were finally getting home after the near 11 hour flight from LA. You were nervous to run into Harry because you still hadn’t heard from him and assumed that it was because of the same thing Monty had told you, he was working things out with his girlfriend. She had wanted you out of his life, she said it to you herself. So it made sense why he hadn’t reached out to you. You imagined that he hated himself a little bit for doing it this way, but if it gave his partner peace, he would sacrifice his preferred method of dealing with shit and find closure another way. You were similar to him in this as well, you wanted to apologize to him and explain that you didn’t air his dirty laundry on purpose! Even if he still decided to never speak to you again, at least you’d get to say your piece! You’d definitely prefer his silence from that than the ‘pretend Y/N doesn’t exist’ method he was using now. But considering you might not have the chance to do that, you too needed to find another way in which to close the door on Harry for good.

Your thoughts were racing as you cycled through your tasks in a disorganized fashion. You had started unpacking your luggage to put things in the washing machine but then decided that you needed to brew yourself some coffee to help keep you awake so that you wouldn’t have jet lag. But while you waited for your coffee to brew you decided to have a quick body shower so that you could complete all your tasks in a fresh and comfy outfit. And when you emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel you groaned and saw the outfit you wanted to wear was sitting in the dirty laundry portion of your suitcase. You were starting to get annoyed and decided you needed your caffeine immediately. And when you made it to the kitchen you saw your empty mug sitting under your Nespresso because you forgot to add water to it and that was your last straw.

All of the anger and frustration that you had pent up inside from the situation with Harry, how tired you were, and how scatter-brained you felt just bubbled over and you grabbed the mug in fit of rage and threw it on the ground, shattering it into an irreparable heap of ceramic.

“Fuck my life!” You shouted, your chest was rising and falling dramatically as you started to get choked up. You sniffled as your tears blurred your vision and you started to cry. You’d been trying to keep it together, to not be upset at any of it because you had been the one in the wrong, but it still hurt. It hurt to know that Harry had feelings for you but not enough to choose you. It hurt to know that your friendship with him was more than likely over. It hurt to know that you’d compromised a part of yourself, that you’d stooped so fucking low for absolutely nothing at all in return! All you’d truly gained was a fuck ton of self-loathing and you couldn’t pretend that you didn’t deserve it because you absolutely did.

*****************

Harry’s POV

When Harry’s girlfriend called and confronted him about what you’d shared with her at whatever party you two were at, he was livid. He immediately thought the worst thing, that you were trying to get him back or to sabotage his relationship. But when the initial wave of rage subsided and he was able to think a bit more rationally, he recalled how you’d also respected the fact that, that’s where he would be focusing all of his efforts. And you had said that you cared for him and if that were true, you would never do anything to hurt him on purpose. He had to believe that and he had to cling to that. 

When his girlfriend returned home she gave him an ultimatum, if he wanted things to move forward in their relationship then he had to leave you out of his life. He felt sick to his stomach upon hearing that so he’s not sure why he agreed to it so easily, but he did. It had been weeks now and the more days passed by, his regret in this decision only grew. He was sitting in mediocrity, in routine, and a lot spite towards himself. Did he deserve it, yes, but he couldn’t see a world in which they could make it past this with the way she was acting. She would just pretend she wasn’t upset about it and then when they’d have a disagreement it always got thrown back in his face, no matter how much he apologized for it. When he’d ask what he needed to do to make it better she’d say she didn’t know or when he wanted to help her understand why he did what he’d done, she didn’t want to face it! But when she’d get frustrated about it, she’d blow up on him and not let him respond. And it started to sink in that he had made a mistake in trying to force things to work with her and he had to say something.

This is why he found himself waiting up for her to get back in from a rehearsal. He needed to get some things off his chest. Harry was one to talk things out, he didn’t like to sit on things and let them brew and fester like she did. And that’s what he’d been doing a lot of lately, just sitting in dissatisfaction. When he heard the front door open he sat up, more than prepared to just get the conversation over with. 

“Hey babe, still up?” He heard her approaching.

“Yeah. Waited up.” He responded and she smiled as she came through the door and directly to the bed and kissed his lips. He was a little stiff in returning the kiss and she sniggered, “What’s the matter?” She asked, with a dimpled smile adorning her face. And as he looked into her eyes he just felt the need to be honest with her.

“Ummm…I…I can’t do this anymore.” He said softly and her smiled faded. She blinked a few times, as if she were trying to determine if this was real or not.

“Seriously, Harry?” She scoffed with an angry but surprised expression on her face.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized as he looked deep into her eyes to show his sincerity, but soon her eyes were narrowing into angry slits.

“Wait…Are you dumping me for her?” She asked and he sighed. “Oh my god…” she mumbled incredulously as she stood and paced around as Harry got out of the bed and walked up to her and grabbed her shoulders from behind and she whipped around, “Don’t fucking touch me!” She shouted at him and he frowned but nodded. “What does she have that I don’t, Harry?” She asked sadly and he shook he sighed. He didn’t want to go down that road, she never saw when she was in the wrong and it would just make things worse, but he needed to be honest.

“It’s not that there’s anything wrong with you.” He explained, “It’s just different with her and she’s more…open to things th-that you don’t like and that I find myself…wanting more of.” He explained and she scoffed.

“That’s it?! All the sex shit I refuse to do?” She asked through a scoff, “Are you fucking kidding me?! You know, she’s only into that shit because she’s fucked up, Harry! Only a fucked up person can find pleasure in being used and degraded that way!” His features furrowed in offense.

“So what does that make me then?” She frowned when she realized what she’d just said.

“Harry, it’s not-”

“No, please, give it to me straight! It was my idea, I’m the one who brought that into our affair and she liked it. So if she’s fucked up for liking it, then what am I for wanting it?” He questioned and she shook her head.

“I just…I don’t understand it.” She said, “It’s not…normal.” She elaborated and he smiled sarcastically.

“Yeah alright, let’s say you’re right and it’s not. So what we do is normal?” He asked her, “Just the same thing, over and over and over again? After a fucking year together you refuse to even try new things with me! All you do is judge me for it? It’s like you don’t trust me!” 

“I don’t! I don’t trust you when you’re in that headspace, Harry! What if you hurt me? What if you can’t stop?!” He rolled his eyes.

“I’m not a fucking monster!” He shouted back, “That’s the fucking point of all of it, to exercise control or to relinquish it! It’s all a two way street! But quite frankly, it never has been with you…” he said and she scoffed.

“I do things for you!” She shouted back and he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, your half-assed head really makes me feel close to you.” He murmured sarcastically and she groaned.

“You know that I don’t like to because you’re too big for my comfort and I don’t want to get all messy and…it doesn’t make me feel good! It makes me feel cheap and used!” She shouted back and he nodded.

“Yeah, how do you think I feel whenever I’m the one pulling all the weight in our sex life and in this relationship? I want to enjoy it, I want feel good in this relationship too!” He exclaimed, “I fucking dread it when I know you want to fuck! Or when you’re upset at something! I really fucking do!” He confessed and it felt so good to say it and she frowned deeply upon hearing him say that.

“So that’s all that matters to you? The sex?” She asked sadly.

“Of course not, but it’s pretty fucking important to me.” He said and she rolled her eyes.

“And what about everything else? What about the emotional and intellectual connection we have? W-we have that down at the very least don’t we?” She asked and he sighed.

“Sure…but it’s…more w-with her.” He said and she shook her head in disbelief, “There are things about how she is that just…resonate more with me. It’s not just the sex, it’s a lot of things that we deal with more similarly.”

“Okay, like what then?” She asked and he sighed.

“Like now, when we’re arguing about something or needing to discuss something serious. You…just pretend like nothing is wrong until you can’t handle it anymore. And when I try to talk about it then this happens! You just shout and shout and never fucking listen t-to what I’m trying to say or how I feel. And when I try to bring that up, you always say you’re not ready to talk about it!”

“Yeah, I like to think through things, Harry! Not argue in circles!” She defended herself and he groaned.

“We only argue in circles because you don’t listen to anything I’m trying to say to you!” He explained already feeling exasperated, “You’re doing it now! Things don’t have to escalate into a fight whenever we disagree about something, we could discuss it. That’s the point of talking it through then and there. While emotions are fresh and the situation is at hand! You use your words to communicate how you feel and what you want. I’m not a mind reader, I don’t know what you’re thinking or how long you’re gonna take to think about things, at least communicate that!” He explained and she sighed.

“Well, that’s not how I like to do things.”

“Well, there are two people in this relationship. Two different people with their own needs and expectations, not just you.” He said and she scoffed.

“Oh please! And all this with Y/N wasn’t just about you? Fucking someone else while we were together, that wasn’t selfish of you?”

“Of course it was! I know it was and it was wrong of me. I recognize that I made a mistake in going to another person.” He accepted, “And I’m sorry that you’ve been hurt in the process. She told me, multiple times to just talk to you so that I wouldn’t have to go find happiness somewhere else and I tried! I really fucking tried and it’s just…not happening for me with you.” He said sadly.

“And what, she’s going to make you happy?” She asked sarcastically.

“I don’t know, but I have to try, if only to rule out the fact that she’s not the one for me.” Harry said and that’s when she started to cry. 

Of course he felt awful about it, but just now, hearing her even say some of the things she had said made him feel like he didn’t fully know her. And more than that, the things she had said were mean and offensive. He understood that she was hurt, but he’d never considered that she could stoop that low, even when angry.

“I fucking hate you.” She seethed as she stormed off into the ensuite and he sighed as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Moments later she returned with the clothes from her designated drawers piled up in her arms and she dropped them on the bed. “Can you at least grab my suitcase from the top shelf? I can’t reach it.” She said and he nodded and did as she asked.

“Do you want me t-to give you some space?” He asked and she sniffled.

“Do whatever you fucking want, Harry.” She mumbled through her tears as she continued putting clothes into her large suitcase. He sighed and stood before going down to the kitchen to set the kettle for some tea. 

It was about twenty minutes later when she called him up to help her bring her things down as her friend would be arriving soon. He did just that and soon she was coming down the staircase with her duffle bag hanging off of her shoulder.

“Where are you going to stay?” He asked.

“With a cast mate.” She mumbled, “At least until I can go back home.” She said and he nodded.

“Can you just let me know when you’re in safe for the night?”

“Oh, now you care…” she mumbled.

“I do care about you. I have this entire time, I just-”

“Care about her more.” She said plainly.

“I was going to say that I’m just not in love with you anymore.” He said and she sighed.

“You know, I don’t think I am either.” She confessed, “I thought we were fine but…I guess, fine is rather anticlimactic in a relationship.” She said morosely.

“Yeah.” He concurred. Then, her phone chimed to indicate her ride was here and she went over to the security keypad by the door and opened up the gate for her friend to get through. He helped her get her things outside and into the boot of the car. She came over with her duffle and he grabbed it from her and neatly set it beside her suitcase before pulling the door of the boot down gently.

“If I find anything else of yours should I send it to your flat in New York?” He asked.

“Yes, please.” She confirmed.

“Okay, no problem. I really am sorry, I know that I went about things the complete wrong way, but-”

“You know what, just save it, Harry. I really don’t give a fuck.” She said with a tired smile and he licked over his lips and nodded awkwardly before clearing his throat.

“Well, then…I uh-”

“I really hope that fucking whore is worth it for whatever time you have together.” She cut him off, “And I hope it’s painfully miserable for you two and that she cheats on you too. And when she does, because a whore can’t help herself, and I inevitably hear about it through the grapevine, just know I’m going to be so fucking ecstatic. I will not hesitate to reach out to you just to rub it in your stupid, fucking face, Harry.” She said spitefully and he couldn’t help but smirk as she wished him ill. He just had never seen this side of her.

“Alright, love, you do that. Use up all your free time to keep tabs on me.” He mumbled sarcastically.

“Fuck you, Harry!” She spat before walking around him to get into the car. He sighed as he walked back up to the front door and he heard her shouting at her friend that she didn’t want to talk about it and to just go. So the car started again and he waved them off with a smile as she stuck her hand out the window and flipped him the bird as they took off into the night.

Yeah, he deserved everything she’d said. He’d definitely been a bad boyfriend, particularly towards the end there, but he felt relieved. Relieved that he no longer had to be the only one compromising. Relieved that he’d no longer have to skirt around things and keep shit bottled up inside to keep her comfortable. And relieved that at least now, he’d have the chance to explore having more with you. He truly had no idea if during your time apart you’d managed to move on fully. Or if his silence over the last few weeks had made you hate him or if it’d completely broken your heart to the point that you no longer wanted anything with him. But regardless of all of that, he was certain of one thing, which was that you’d at least hear him out and let him apologize and explain. If it were his ex that he was trying to fix things with, well, he’d assume that her reception would be similar to her goodbye to him. Even if you wanted nothing to do with him in a romantic or sexual sense anymore, he knew you’d still find it in your heart to stay friends with him and he reckoned that even that would be enough for him.

…. A FEW DAYS LATER ….

You had been doing a bit better now that you were back home. You’d come clean to Goldie about what had transpired between you and Harry. And while she was shocked and disappointed in the both of you, she was still there for you and let you cry out your hurt and disappointment. What you feared would happen, being ostracized and judged harshly, wasn’t the case, thankfully. In fact, Goldie had just invited you out with her Sam, and Paul. She assured you that she hadn’t heard of Harry joining, but you wanted to err on the side of caution for the time being and respect the very clear distance that had been put in place by him. Even if Harry didn’t show up, if his girlfriend saw that you were out with more of his friends it might make her feel like you were purposefully encroaching into his life. You had already done enough to complicate things between them, so you needed to be mindful of things like this.

“Thanks, G. It’s sweet of you but I’m just not up for it tonight. Especially not with Paul around. If she sees something from the paps or even social media it could upset her and I don’t want to risk upsetting her even more.” You explained.

“Oh, babe…I appreciate you wanting to do the noble thing, but you really need to get out a bit to get all this off your mind, you know?” She countered and you smiled.

“How about this? I make a reservation at Cecconi’s for tomorrow in the late afternoon. We have an early dinner with a few Negronis and that phenomenal mixed berries cheesecake they serve! And then, when we’re well buzzed, we go to SOHO House? We can get drunk and flirt with people, and network.” You grinned as you giggled.

“We have to look fit. I mean FIT!” She emphasized and you giggled again.

“Yeah, you can even come over and get ready together!” You offered since you lived closest to SOHO. 

“Alright! We can make a whole day out of it! I can bring bagels from Papo’s! And we can have Prosecco’s and coconut water so that we’re drunk, but hydrated!” She shared excitedly.

“Yeah, alright.” You agreed.

“I’ll pop in around 9:30 or 10?”

“Yeah, that’s perfect.” You agreed and she squealed happily.

“I’m so excited! Can’t wait!”

“Neither can I!” You assured happily.

“Ah, alright babes, I’m gonna let you go. Have a good night, yeah?”

“You too, G. See ya’ later.”

“See ya’!” She chirped before hanging up. 

You smiled to yourself as you finished packing your left over dinner. You then headed up to your room to just wash up and get into your pajamas so that you wouldn’t have to get up and do all this if you accidentally fell asleep while watching TV. You went over to your window and opened it up to let the cool temperature of the night waft in. You then went about and lit a few candles before turning down you bed and switching on your sunset lamp, projecting a warm pink and orange collage on your ceiling. You set down the remote on your bedside table and then bit your lip as you saw your wand vibrator’s light blinking steadily as it charged up. 

Next on your list was your weed, it was just three prerolls that you’d smuggled in from LA. Stupid and risky, yes. But worth it. You grabbed one of the little tubes and went to set it down by your bean bag sofa chair along with the ashtray and lighter in your hand. You then headed downstairs to grab a glass of water and your dark chocolate KitKat that you’d purchased earlier when you’d decided on how you’d spend your evening. You were switching off all the lights and then stopped before the front door for just a moment, and then your doorbell rang. You flinched in fright at the unlikely coincidence, and chills tingled your spine as the chime sounded through the townhome. It wasn’t all that late, but a little too late for deliveries. You quietly padded up to the door and tiptoed a little bit to look through the peep hole and froze.

Your mouth slightly dropped open in shock when you saw Harry standing at your doorstep looking right to left as he tapped his foot nervously. You felt a lump forming in your throat and your heart rate started to rise rapidly. You were tingling all over with excitement, fear, dread, and happiness. Suddenly he looked right at the peephole, it made your insides churn violently as you made eye contact through the little lens.

“Y/N?” He asked and you relished at the sound of his voice, but felt your chest ache because he needed to leave.

“You shouldn’t be here, Harry.” You said through the door.

“I need to be here, angel.” He said  and you felt your chest tighten up. You pulled back and turned the locks to open the door and as soon as you were in front of him he just chuckled happily and stepped forward, pushing his way inside so that he could wrap you up in his arms. He just threw the door back before he pulled you into his chest. “Hi, angel.” He hummed lowly as he leaned his face against the side of your head.

“Hi!” You laughed happily as you settled into his warmth. You were pleasantly surprised that he was here. In the flesh! You were touching him, breathing him in. You gently tickled his back with your nails and he hummed.

“Missed you, angel.” He hummed and you smiled.

“Missed you too.” You responded, “Are you alright?” You asked him and started to pull back.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” He smiled, “I ummm…I ended things with her.” He said of his girlfriend, well, ex-girlfriend now. 

“I’m so sorry. Are you sure you’re alright?” You asked and he nodded again.

“Even more so now.” He flirted and you sniggered a bit and you just looked at each other in silence for a few seconds, “Look, I’m so sorry-”

“I’m so sorry, Harry-” You both spoke at the same time and chuckled.

“You don’t need to apologize.” He said, “I know you’d never do anything to hurt me on purpose.” He said and you nodded.

“Never, H.” You assured him and he smiled at your reassurance.

“So…what the hell happened?!” He asked through a chuckle and you groaned.

“Don’t make me relive it…” You whined, “You’re lucky that I didn’t jump off the rooftop then and there. It was mortifying.” You giggled and he tutted.

“I need to know!” He insisted and you groaned.

“H, I had a whole plan for the evening.” You muttered.

“Did you? You were gonna go out?” He asked and you shook your head.

“No, they were…homebody plans.” You said coyly and he smiled.

“Yeah? Walk me through the plan then.” He pressed and you bit your lip. 

“Mmm…was gonna smoke a joint…” you hummed and his eyebrows arched up as he smirked, “While listening to smutty stuff…and probably get off before just getting to bed.” you confessed and he bit his lip.

“Are you just trying to make this sexual?” He asked and you laughed and shook your head.

“No, I swear! I have a whole set up in my room.” You giggled and he knocked his head back as he laughed.

“Well, d’you mind if I distract you from your plans for a little bit?” He asked and you shook your head.

“Not at all.” You assured and he smiled, “Come on.” You said and grabbed his hand as you guided him through your townhome and to your bedroom. 

Harry saw the beautiful pink glow of your bedroom from down the hall. And he could also smell the delicious floral but warm and musky scent wafting from your bedroom. He inhaled deeply as he crossed the threshold and immediately went over to see the candles you had burning. He didn’t see a name apart from the brand on the vessel and as he glanced down to see if there was perhaps a lid close by he saw your vibrator plugged in and charging and he chuckled a bit, he had definitely intruded tonight. But maybe if things went well he could improve upon your plans. Normally, he would just go up and grab you if he wanted you and he was certain you wouldn’t object. But if he got to have sex with you tonight, he wanted to show you another side of what it could be like because of his feelings for you. You two were always fighting to keep the tender and loving bit out of your sessions, but he could still be kinky and sprinkle in the loving bits if you were open to trying for more with him.

“You really weren’t kidding.” He said and you turned back to see him pointing at your toy and sputtered on a laugh.

“I really wasn’t. It’s alright though, I can do that any other day.” You chuckled as he walked over and then plopped on your bed to slip out of his sneakers. “Ummm, do you want some of this?” You asked him, raising the joint and he nodded. “Okay, so I don’t have another seat to offer you, this is my designated smoking chair.” You explained to the bean bag sofa chair.

“You have a smoking chair?” He questioned you and you sniggered.

“I do! I don’t smoke often at all but I don’t want to stink up any of my nice furniture when I get the craving for it.” You explained and he hummed in amusement at your logic.

“I see…well, I can sit on the floor just get me a cushion for my bum.” 

“Okay.” You hummed and grabbed one of the round, velvet cushions you had as decor on your bed and set it beside the bean bag. You then settled in as he came over and with his foot, guided the cushion to the front of your seat. You glanced up at him and he smiled down at you.

“Open up.” He said and you parted your legs so that he could sit and nestle between them. Once he was comfy you leaned over him and handed him the joint and lighter. He sparked it up and took the first drag before handing it back to you, seconds later he was blowing the smoke out the large window and then you did the same. “So…how’d it happen?” He asked, bringing up your conversation from downstairs.

“Well, my friend Monty was hired as entertainment for the party and he asked me to tag in as the bassist and I agreed. I saw her from the stage at one point and smiled but she did not look pleased. So I decided to just not interact unless we were forced to because I didn’t want to stir up any trouble for you.” You explained.

“So you were forced to speak to her?”

“Yes! During the break in the set we both happened to walk up to the same bar line! Just my fucking luck, you know…?” you muttered as you recalled and he chuckled and turned around to face you instead so that you could converse better. “We said hello to each other and like…she seemed fine by then. Maybe it was stupid of me to ask how you were, but I was just making small talk because you’re the only thing we really have in common in terms of acquaintances.” you explained and he nodded, “And then she said that she’s sure I was nice but that she wanted me to stay away from you because she didn’t trust me.” You shared, his features turned down as he hummed in understanding, “And then she finished that with saying, “I know you slept with him”, that was it. Just like that.” You explained and his eyes widened. “Yeah!” You laughed nervously, as the feelings from that moment resurfaced again.

“Jesus…”

“I know…I was frazzled!” You exclaimed before taking another drag and handing the joint back to him. You held it in for a minute as he took his own drag, and then you blew out the smoke towards the window. “Just hearing it like that, in such a confrontational manner, I thought that meant that she knew-knew.” You said and he nodded, “So I just started apologizing frantically and assuring her that it hadn’t happened any more than those times and that you loved her, but I guess you told her something else because she looked really confused when I said that.”

“I just told her that we had been together before she and I were together, just about the one time before.” He said and you hummed.

“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to fuck things up for you two. She just started to ask me how many times and when! And I was…so embarrassed and nervous and ashamed of myself.” You pouted and he reached for your calf and rubbed his thumb up and down your leg soothingly.

“I’m sorry, angel.” He replied. “I must admit I thought the worst at first, but then I just…I knew you’d never do that to me.” He said and you nodded.

“I wouldn’t, H. I know that it was a mistake and you were trying your best to not make the same mistake with me again-”

“Hey, look at me.” He said as he set the joint down on the ashtray you’d set out, “The only mistake I made was not choosing you from the very beginning. Even after the first time I was blown away by you. I was fucked from the start.” He said and your gaze softened, “I…I’ve felt things with you that I haven’t felt before. And while I…love that we’re compatible in the sex part of things, I’ve also given some thought to what things might’ve been like if we were together. And Y/N, I think it would be really good.” He said earnestly and you smiled softly at him. “Even just in the glimpses I’ve had of real life situations I’ve been in with you, I know we’re compatible in those parts too. You actually listen to me to understand me, not just to respond, you know? You think about me and consider me, even before yourself sometimes.” He said. “I know that…I haven’t done a lot of that for you previously, but I would like the opportunity to show you that I can do that for you and more.” He said and you smiled.

“To be fair, you did try, I just never let you before.” You added as you raked your fingers into his hair and he leaned into you, “I’ve also felt things with you that I’ve never felt before.” You confessed, “But it…scares me, H.” You confessed and he pouted a little bit, “Not because of you, but because of me. I fear that I would get lost in it.” You said and he smiled.

“Why is that a bad thing? I could get lost with you.” He mused and you giggled.

“We’re too old for that kind of thing, H.”

“Yeah, but that’s part of it, isn’t it? The honeymoon phase? Relishing in love without a care for what could befall us?” He asked and you smiled, “Get lost in love, in the excitement, in the sex…” he hummed with a grin, “That’s literally the best part.”

“It is…” you smiled in agreement.

“You know, when I think about you, I can’t imagine that the initial excitement will ever go away. We’d have so much fun together.” He said and you smiled.

“We would. But what about when things get…hard. Like when you’re touring or on other projects?” You asked and he thought about for a moment.

“We could be like Paul and Linda in WINGS.” He suggested with a small smile and you giggled, “No! Seriously! Hear me out…you could join the band! We could do all of it together, like Mitch and Sarah!” He said and you smiled, “Create, write, and perform…I know you’d love life on the road. And then just…do life together.”

“It does sound amazing.” You admitted with a smile.

“It does. And I know that I’m just out of a relationship, but things are a little bit different than just a normal breakup. We had something together and I want to explore it with you. I want to have the chance to make you happy how you deserve, angel. No more bits and pieces of attention and affection. If you give me your heart, I promise I’ll keep it safe.” He appealed.

You caressed his face gently, “My heart’s been yours for a while now, Harry. And even through all of this, I think you’ve done a wonderful job of protecting it.” You assured him. “I don’t want to ignore this anymore. I just feel so good when we’re together or even just in each other’s space.” You said softly. “You know, sometimes it feels like I’m connected to you in a certain way. Or maybe it’s my imagination…” you mumbled, excusing your ramblings. 

“We are.” He assured you, “I feel that too. It aches a little when we’re apart. And I just…sense it when you’re close by.”

“Yeah?” you smiled inquisitively and he nodded.

“Believe it or not, I was sitting out there for about half an hour, trying to decide if it was too bold of me to show up here unannounced. I had no idea if you were in or not. And then I suddenly felt this sense of urgency and came up to your door and here we are now.” He shared.

“Ummm, actually…when you arrived at the door I was about to go back to my room and just stopped at the front door for a few moments. I don’t know why, I just felt like I needed to. And then you rang the doorbell.” You shared with a smile, “Creepy, huh?” You asked.

“Mmm, I think it’s rather normal.”

“Being that in tune with another person is not normal.” You voiced your opinion, “I think it’s quite special.”

“I meant it’s normal for us.” He said and you grinned.

“Oh, then you’re 100% right.” You giggled and he smiled and leaned forward to kiss your knee through your pajama pants. You smiled down at him and when his eyes glanced up to meet yours again you sighed dreamily, “Just getting to be there with you is already way better than the plans I had made for myself.” You said through a giggle and he chuckled.

“Mmm…I think we could redirect things back to the original concept.” He smirked and you giggled but then your face turned serious.

“We don’t have to if you’re not ready for that. I’m not even horny or anything, was gonna build up to it with the spicy audios.” You confessed, “Although, well…seeing you definitely made me horny.” You chuckled bashfully, “So I am now but this is also good. We don’t have to if you’re not, you know…” You finished explaining.

“Oh, I definitely am, angel.” He chuckled, “Can’t help it when I’m around you.” He smiled, “But I…want to try something a little different this time.” He said and you nodded.

“Okay, what is it?”

“I wanna be more in my feelings while we do it.” He said and you bit your lip to suppress a nervous-excited smile.

“Umm…o-okay.”

“Okay. I’m just letting you know because…I know that we already get a little wild, but with my heart in it too, things could get a little bit more intense.” He warned you.

“That’s alright.” You nodded.

“And can I…ask you something?” He looked a bit nervous upon getting his request out.

“Of course.” You nodded.

“W-when I…degraded you and overpowered you or things like that, where I was…rough and harsh on you…” he started and you nodded, wordlessly communicating that he continue, “Did you do that for me? Like…did you agree to it like t-to please me. Because I like that or is it…well, was it for you too?” He asked.

“Of course I did it to make you happy but because I like it too.” You shared, “I like it quite a bit. Maybe a little too much.” You smiled as you shared.

“Do you think that…that means we’re…fucked up?” He asked, you could see he was feeling vulnerable for being self-conscious about it. 

In your opinion, the last place a person should be feeling ashamed in was in their sexuality. A person’s sexuality is such a vulnerable part of them, it reflects your deepest darkest fantasies, your id. It was the home of the libido according to Freud. And it could be a little kinky and perverted and maybe even a little scary to confront. But the beauty in that was that how well a person dominated that side of them, was a clear indicator of the amount of ego strength that person has. Which can only mean that a person has a very righteous and strong sense of conscientiousness, the superego. So in short, no, their preferences did not make them “fucked up”. It made them human. It made them normal. And indulging in that part of themselves in the appropriate setting helped them be able to flourish in all of the other roles they had in the world. Like being musicians, an uncle, a creators, a friend to others, a good person…

“Definitely not.” You said reassuringly. “Not if you don’t feel wrong for it.” You added, “Do you?” You inquired and he shook his head.

“It feels….liberating.”

“How so?” You asked with a smirk…you were ready to get started, “When you decide that you want to fuck me, what goes through your head?” He licked his lips and smiled slightly.

“Well I think,  I always get the things I want. And when I want that, when I want you, I just…take you. Because I can.” He smirked.

“So you’re selfish.” You grinned and he shrugged.

“I tend to be…one of my many flaws.” He smiled and you hummed.

“You know how I am…hyper independent. A control freak a bit…” you said and he nodded, “My instincts tell me not to be, to just take what comes my way…deep inside I know I’m actually powerless. And while it’s terrifying, there is something freeing about that. Because while it makes me vulnerable to really shitty things, I also makes me vulnerable to really wonderful things. Like getting bent over your hotel room bed with your cock in my pussy and your fingers in my ass…” You laughed and he did as well. “So, you give me what I need and I give you what you need, even the secret parts of us connect well. So yeah, it’s fucking freeing to be seen and understood on every level. We’re so fucking lucky to exist at the same time.” You said softly with a smile. 

Harry didn’t even hesitate to kneel up and smash his lips into yours. His kiss was ardent, heavy with affection and lust. Your tongues smeared together before he sucked your bottom lip between his lips. He gently bit into it, increasing his bite force bit by bit until you dug your nails into his shoulder. Your kiss simmered down from one second to the next and became so sweet. Just small and playful little pecks interrupted by giddy smiles and soft giggles and mumbles about starting to feel the weed. 

“The back of my knee is tickling!” You giggled and he sniggered, “Ughhh, scratch it please. Make it stop.” You requested and he pulled the leg of your pants up to be able to scratch the back of your knee, “Thank you.” You giggled and pecked his lips quickly. “Wanna get in bed?”

“Yeah, angel.” He mumbled and then he picked up the joint, “Let’s finish this off so that it feels extra nice.” He instructed as he sparked it up for you. “Want you to be a little easier for me.” He said and you smirked as he took his drag.

“Don’t need to be high to be easy for you.” You chuckled and he did as well and kissed you gently before shotgunning the smoke he’d exhaled into your mouth.

“Maybe not but it’s more this way.” He said before kissing you again and handing over the joint.

Once you’d finished it off you both stood and Harry started to undress you. He was getting your panties off when you handed the butt to him and he smashed it into the ashtray to properly extinguish it. He stood and then pulled you over to your bed, you happily plopped on it as he got undressed. He instructed you to grab your vibrator, so you crawled to the other side of the bed and unplugged it from the charger. Your pussy pulsed and fluttered in anticipation. You wanted to feel the silicone buzzing into your clit so badly, you were growing impatient and even more wet than before. You wriggled and rubbed your thighs together to get some friction going. Your labia glided together with ease from how aroused you were as you watched Harry undoing the buttons and fly on his jeans. You’d give anything to kiss down his abs and smooch down his happy trail until you got a mouthful of his cock. You moaned as you watched him pull down his briefs along with his jeans, his thick, long cock sprung up, wobbling about a bit from the sudden release. You licked over your lips. He watched you salivate over his cock, so he knelt onto the bed and put it in your face.

“Get me in your mouth then.” He mumbled and you immediately parted your lips and started to suck on the tip for a bit before starting to stroke the rest. His soft moans of pleasure were making your skin tingle, you’d missed the sound of him. And the weight of him on your tongue. And the taste of his skin, and it’s natural scent. “Fuck yeah, angel. Take more..I know you can take more.” He said as he pushed your head lower, letting himself dip his toe in the kinky forceful stuff you enjoyed for just a moment, “Shit!” He chuckled as his abs tensed, “Yes, baby…That’s fucking good, just…just wind it down for me. That’s it. Nice and slow, angel. Deeper…a little more.” He hummed and then groaned as he settled just a bit past the back of your mouth, you were holding back a gag, “Fuck, can’t believe how it all fits in there.” You couldn’t hold it back anymore and gagged around him which make him moan in pleasure, “Yeah, gag on it, angel.” He grunted and held himself in before gently pulling back to let you catch your breath. He did this a few more times until your chin was sticky with your drool and his pre-cum. “Is your little pussy throbbing yet?” He asked and you nodded as you wiped your mouth on the back of your hand. “Go wash up.” He said and you nodded and hurried to the ensuite to rinse off your face. 

He knew how much you hated to feel sticky in the face. You soon came back into the room to find him playing with the vibrator. He was clicking through the vibration patterns before he settled on half-note pulses and then pressed it to his frenulum. You stood and watched from the darkness of the bathroom, watching his brows crease and jaw clench as he pleasured his cock with the vibrating wand. He was a fucking masterpiece, and with you being a little high it was making you even more needy for him. You slowly approached and he glanced up to you.

“I think I need to get one of these.” He chuckled before biting his lip.

“Yeah, it makes me come like a fountain.” You shared through a chuckle and he groaned.

“Yeah?” You nodded, “Show me.” He said as he extended it towards you and you bit your lip nervously and climbed onto the bed. You settled into the pillows and he passed over the baby pink vibrator. He settled in beside you and kissed the top of your cheek. “Go on, then. Play with yourself.” He instructed and you didn’t need to be told twice. 

You spread your legs and slowly pressed the vibrator against your clit and immediately gasped. You were already sopping wet, so when you added more pressure it slipped a bit and Harry groaned as he watched you adjust a bit to get it back on your clit. He grabbed your thigh and pulled it open so that he could see you better. His mouth was watering as he watched you getting off, his fingers were itching to touch you in between your legs. He wanted to get down there and breathe you in and taste you until he had his fill of you. He only lasted a few more moments before he kissed you deeply and then shifted around until he was down between your legs and watching up close as your little cunt throbbed and oozed slick. He snatched the vibrator from your hand and shut it off as he delved in. He shook his head back and forth, wiggling to get his tongue in even deeper into your little hole. He wanted to taste everything you were giving right from the source.

“Oh fuck, Harry! Fuck yes, just like that!” You encouraged him as you ground up against his mouth. You were obsessed with the scratchy feeling of his facial hair pricking against your smooth pussy. And you loved how he held you open and licked from your entrance to your clit, flicking the sensitive little bud over and over with the tip of his tongue until you were gasping as your teetered on the edge of your orgasm. “I-I’m gonna come! Please, let me come!” You announced in a higher pitched voice, he hummed against you to signal his permission. Your muscles were completely tense as you held onto the feeling as long as possible until your first orgasm burst from inside of you.

Coming with his help was different. It was your quality of work without having to do any of the actual work. He read your body in ways that made it impossible for you not to give in. It felt so good to be free falling into that gratifying, warm, and tingly feelings. You loved how it tickled just right that it made your toes curl. And hearing him and feeling him moan into your leaking pussy made your eyes roll back before squeezing shut. You loved how he feasted on you. He was kissing your pussy as passionately as he’d kissed your mouth. You were just basking in how happy he was to be here with you. Your hips arched up as you tried to escape his mouth but he locked your thighs in his arms and held you down. It was getting to be too much! You hadn’t even had a chance to fully come down from your orgasm and you were already well on your way to another one. You were writhing and yelped as he nipped at your clit. He chuckled, knowing you didn’t mind a bit of pain. Just as you were about to get to a place where the tingles fully faded he parted his lips and sucked your clit between his lips. His tongue managed to just barely run over it, it was making your had spin. Your thighs were starting to tremble as he was forcing you past the point of no return.

“Harry!” You yelped as he sucked with more force, “Oh! It’s too much! Please! Please, no more!” You pleaded as he forced you down and open and kept sucking. “Fuck! Please, please!” You cried desperately as you writhed beneath him. Suddenly, the most obscene moan broke from your throat involuntarily as your hips and legs spasmed as you started to squirt. Your eyes squeezed shut as you arched up as the pleasure swept through your body. You were just about to come down from it when you heard the vibrator come on and then he was being held just over your clit, barely ticking the surface of your throbbing little bundle. You were panting now just whining pitifully as your little clit was vibrated so quickly. Next thing you knew, two of Harry’s fingers were sinking into your pussy and stretching you out. You swore your eyes crossed as he curved his fingers up and prodded at your g-spot a few times before you were moaning obscenely again as your cum gushed out of your entrance.

“Fuck yeah, angel. Squirt again for me. You can do it, baby. You can give me another one. One more for, daddy.” He grunted as he poured his fingers into you at a more determined pace until you were squirting a bit more for him. He eased into a stop before pulling his fingers out and sucking them clean and then leaning down to kiss you. “Mmm…you’re so perfect, baby. Look at you.” He mumbled in amusement, “I even missed how you taste.” He mumbled against your lips and you smiled and pecked his lips. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.” You replied with a soft smile.

“Promise? Went a little hard on you there.” He said and you nodded.

“Promise. I didn’t use our word.” You reminded him and he nodded.

“That’s right, angel.” He hummed.

“I actually have something in mind…” you started and he nodded, urging you to continue. “What if tonight we see if I can go under?” You asked and you saw the sparkle in his eyes but then he glanced away.

“Ummm…that’s kind of…opposite of what I wanted this time to be.” He admitted with a soft chuckle, “But if that’s what you want, then I-”

“Wait. No, tell me more about what you…were expecting or…hoping for?” You requested and he smiled slightly as he pressed down and kissed you again.

“Thank you for wanting to listen to it.” He said and you smiled and nodded, “Well…I know that before I had…kind of tested the boundary of what was too intimate er whatever. And well…I want to…fuck you with…intention and care and…I suppose…love?” He got out and sighed shakily, “I ummm…I am in love with you. I just…realized it. I’m sorry!” He laughed nervously as he looked into your eyes and you were just beaming. You pressed yourself up and grabbed his face and guided it towards your own until you were kissing slowly with smiles on your faces.

“H.” You mumbled.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Let’s do it your way. Lets add a little affection in there.” You whispered and he smiled.

“Okay.” He whispered back happily, “Do you have condoms?” He asked.

“Let’s not use one.” You said and he kissed you quickly.

“Are you one the pill again?” He whispered his question and you shook your head.

“No.” You reaffirmed verbally and he kissed you again.

“So you’re playing with fire, are you?” He asked and you nodded with a smile. “I really like that.” He hummed smugly. “Gosh, I’ll have to fuck you everyday until we find out you’re knocked up.” He said and you literally blushed as he grinned down at you smugly. “Would you like that, baby?” He asked you nodded quickly as he leaned down and kissed you as he reached down for his cock and positioned it at your entrance.

“Fuck, push it in.” You panted and he dropped his weight into his hips and surged forward until your little hole gave way and parted for his long, thick cock to sink in until his full, heavy balls thudded against your bottom. He ground his hips into you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix and g-spot with every swirl of his hips until he pulled out and then sunk back in again. By the third one you were starting to tremble.

“That’s good for you, angel?”

“Yes…you feel so fucking good, baby!” You panted as you were brought to the edge and then let back down as he drew out from you. You were tingling in anticipation of feeling him thrust back in. “I love you so much…” you exhaled and he was suddenly feeling all warm and gooey inside.

“Fuck, angel, I love you too…I’m not gonna last too long.” He confessed as he froze deep inside of you. “Get your vibrator for me. Right on your clit. Wanna feel you coming on me one more time.” He said and you were quick to comply. You had it on a lower setting but given your sensitivity level you were starting to reach the edge quite quickly. Specially with Harry pounding away inside of you. You were moaning in time with the even paced grunts rumbling from his chest and the smacking sounds of your centers colliding over and over and over again. Your vision started to go hazy as you blinked up at him before your eyes squeezed shut as you started to come. You could feel your walls throbbing hard around his cock and you wanted nothing more than to feel his warm load filling your pussy.

“Come inside me, daddy!” You begged and he groaned and gave a few more determined thrusts before he was stilling deep inside of you, his hand pressing down on your tummy, you could feel the weight of him over his own cock inside of you. Something about that had you losing your mind and extended your orgasm as you felt him spilling into you.

“Fuck, baby…that’s all yours, angel. M’all yours. Take all my fucking cum.” He grunted deeply, you felt the deepness of his voice rumbling through your body as he ground into you with intent as he came deep inside of you. 

It stole your breath as you started to come again as both of your most vulnerable areas were being stimulated so gloriously. You didn’t mean for it to happen, but your vision started to tunnel and all the sounds around you were muffled as your head just rolled back and you closed your eyes and smiled as this gorgeous cocktail of THC, several orgasms, and sub space collided together in the most chaotic and serendipitous way. Your orgasm seemed to be affecting each of your main body parts one by one, you felt it in each leg, in your tummy, chest, and arms, and then your head. You were floating, you were living in ecstasy, riding the wave for as long as possible. You blinked your eyes open slowly as Harry rested over you and kissed you with tenderness when he saw you floating off in some warm and fuzzy place.

“You’re safe, angel. Safe with me. Love you so much.” He whispered as he kissed all over your face. You locked your legs around his hips, trapping his body against yours snugly, “Fuck yeah, baby. Keep me inside…” he moaned as your walls continued to pulse around him steadily.

  He held you nice and tight, keeping your warm under his body heat. It was then that you realized that you’d left the window opened…you hoped your neighbors hadn’t heard anything, but there was a very slim chance of that being the case. And just like that, the tingle feeling and tunnel vision started to fade and you were slowly descending back into reality. When you felt the strength return to your body, you hugged him back and he sighed happily as he planted another kiss to your cheek.

“Are you alright?” He asked lowly as he glanced down at you and you smiled and nodded. “Use your words for me, angel. Y’know that.” He reminded.

“Sorry, I’m still a little loopy.” You whispered, “But yeah, I’m alright. Just cold.” You said and he tutted.

“Forgot to close the window. Can I get up?” He asked and you shook your head.

“Not yet. Stay close.” You whined and he smiled as he pushed himself up a bit and ran his thumb over your kiss-bitten bottom lip affectionately. It was something small, but in the past you would’ve just let him go and it would’ve all been done. 

“Did you ever think about…being like this with me before?” He asked and you nodded.

“Of course. It just wouldn’t have been fair for either of us to give in. It feels so good to just…hold you.” You breathed out in relief and he smiled and kissed your lips quickly. 

“Yeah angel, it does.” He agreed as he smiled down at you.  

After a few more minutes of being cuddled up together, you felt more yourself again so you assured him that you could get up now so that you guys could get cleaned off and dressed again. He was helping you get your comforter and sheets off so you could switch them out. You watched him check your mattress really quick to ensure you hadn’t soiled it when you came so hard so many times. It was sweet and so endearing of him, it made you feel all soft for him and you weren’t ready for this to be over.

“D-do you want to stay?” You asked him timidly and his face lit up as he smiled and nodded.

“Wait.” He smirked, “Not gonna make me stay on my side of the bed, are you?” He questioned playfully and you laughed as you shook your head.

“I don’t think we need to have sides since I’m not sharing you with anyone else anymore.” You replied with a small grin.

“That’s…very fair.” He chuckled bashfully and you giggled.

“I’m just teasing.” You assured.

“I know, angel.” He smiled. 

“Do you wanna have a shower?” You asked and he nodded. You quickly changed your sheets and comforter before heading towards the shower. “We can share, just make sure you don’t get my hair wet.” You warned as you pulled him along.

You were soon nice and clean, the both of you shivering as you pleaded with him to go close the window once and for all. It wasn’t hard to persuade him, all it was was a flash of your boobs to have him dashing across your bedroom to shut the window and keep out the cold. You quickly got dried and dressed before you cuddled up into the bed. You were both shivering as you adjusted to the temperature. You kissed his chin, cheeks, and lips a few times. His arm was draped over your waist, fingers barely grazing over your lower back. There was something on your mind that you really just wanted to clarify with him. “H, so…earlier when you said you wanted the opportunity to…be more for me?” You trailed off and he nodded, “Did you mean that?” You asked and he nodded.

“I do. I want that with you.” He confirmed. “Do you want that with me too?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, I really do. I just umm…I have a doubt.” You explained and he frowned a bit.

“Look, I-I hope you know that…what we had, that’s not something I’ve done before.” He said and then he frowned a little bit, “Actually, I have cheated before…but it was just a drunken kiss with a random person on a night out and I came clean right away.” He rambled, “I felt awful about it. Still do! But I wouldn’t ever cheat on you. It’s not like a compulsion or anything like that, where I can’t control myself.” He continued rambling nervously. When you grabbed his face he blinked a few times and went silent.

“Hey, I trust you.” You said softly and his nervous gaze softened, “I made a choice too with you. What we had was not just your fault; sure you initiated but I didn’t turn you away. And while it was wrong, I mean, I can’t say it was a mistake because, honestly to me, being with you has never felt like a mistake.” You elaborated your point of view and he smiled upon hearing you say this to him.

“Do you…regret it?”

“Not really. I still find value in what we had before…I learned a lot about myself and what I’m capable of. I mean, I have also had a drunken kiss with a friend while dating someone else but I never really thought of that incident as cheating, I got carried away, you know? It wasn’t anything premeditated or that I thought of or even considered doing sober, so it was just opportunistic. I came clean the very next morning when I saw my partner and he didn’t think of it as cheating either. He actually…laughed in my face at that.” You recalled with a smile and he chuckled. “I guess my point is that, we’re all capable of less than savory things, but what matters is how we come out of it. And I think that what we did…it helped us to learn to trust each other in a way that we might not trust most people in our lives.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“Do you…feel regret for what we did?” You asked him.

“I think I did at some point, especially after your aunt’s birthday. I just saw how insecure I had made my ex feel, you know? But hearing you say that you don’t has changed my answer. I only regretted the fact that the situation was hurting everyone involved. Not the sex or the things we shared and the friendship and trust we strengthened through those times. I’m quite glad we had that with each other. But the fact that I wasn’t really treating either of you fairly or myself is my biggest regret.” He explained and you nodded in understanding. “Ummm, so if your doubts are not fidelity related what are they about?” He asked.

“Just about the timing of everything. Like, you just ended a relationship and I don’t want you to feel like you need to jump into anything with me right away t-to prove how you feel about me. Like if you need time to be single or something…like, I want you to know that that’s cool with me too.” You explained. Obviously, you wanted to jump in, you’d been waiting for him for so long, but if he wasn’t ready yet, then you’d wait, like you promised him a while ago.

“Well first off, I do want to be in a relationship. So I am ready for it. More than.” He assured you, “I just wasn’t with the right person before, that’s all. And well…I think we’ve both waited long enough for this opportunity to be together and if we both want it, why wait?” He reasoned and you bit your lip to try and suppress your smile. “What?” He chuckled.

“Nothing…I just umm…” you bit your lip and then readjusted yourself so that he was spooning you and then you interlocked your fingers with his. You relaxed almost immediately and let yourself melt into his warmth. “I’ve wanted you to hold me like this for a really long time.” You hummed happily. 

“So have I, angel.” He sighed before kissing the side of your head, “Thank you for waiting for me. You really didn’t have to.” He whispered and you smiled.

“Of course I did! I love you.” You whispered back, “That’s why I waited.” You explained with a smile.

“Oh, I love you so much.” He responded as he squeezed you a little tighter before kissing your head once again. You smiled in his embrace, relaxing more and more as the realization sunk in that this was your life now and you couldn’t have asked for a better outcome than this.

“Hey…” you whispered.

“What is it, baby?”

“You’re gonna keep this mullet thing you have going on for a bit, right?” You asked and he sniggered.

“If you like it that much then yes. I’d keep it for you.” He confirmed through a chuckle.

“Okay, good.” You hummed, “It’s fucking sexy.” You added softly and he grinned.

“You think so?” He chuckled.

“I certainly do.” You assured.

“Enough that if we got married I could have this hair, then?” He asked.

“Oh, for sure…so much so that they’d probably have to have the reception without us.” You said smugly.

“Baby…” Harry groaned, squeezing your hip just a bit and you smiled.

“You still have free reign you know…” you hummed and he hummed as he nuzzled up against your ear.

“You’re in for a long night, angel…” he hummed darkly.

“Do your best, daddy.” You grinned.

Magnetic extra^ (wc 2.4k)

---- Tag List ----

@sunshinemoonsposts @anotherdudetteinthisworld @matildasatellite @sad-avocado @sunflovverharry @cherrysulewski @daphnesutton @gurugirl @reveriehs @ottawaoutlander @jessitpwk @permanentllyharry @here4thefanfics @slutfortigertattoo @angelbabyyy99 @freedomfireflies @behindmygreyeyes @justlemmeadoreyou @jarofstyles @harryssattelitestomper @gem1712 @you-guys-should-aww @wannawhispa @acesofspadess @unknown7549 @babegoalsreads @fkinavocado @lillefroe

[ijustmissyouraccenths]

Better Than Fiction

where y/n picks Harry up from the airport and reveals what she does when she’s alone.

word count: 5.1 k

content warning: cursing. SMUT. Probably the smuttiest thing I’ve ever done.

You tap the steering wheel with your thumb, eyes flicking between the road and the dashboard clock. The sky is a soft blue-gray, the kind that only happens right before sunset, and the air feels thick with the kind of quiet that only comes when something good is about to happen.

You haven’t seen him in two months. Eight weeks. Sixty-something days—not that you’ve been counting, except you absolutely have. Every time you dropped your phone on your face watching his interviews in bed. Every time he sent a blurry backstage photo with a caption like “thinking of you.” Every time you climbed into your empty sheets and curled your body around the pillow he left behind like that would make any kind of difference.

Your stomach flutters as you take the exit for the airport, the big green signs snapping you back to reality. His flight landed about fifteen minutes ago. You know it’ll take time to get through customs and baggage claim, but still. You’re suddenly nervous. You check your reflection in the rearview mirror, smoothing your hand over your hair even though the curls won’t settle, then press your lips together to check for smudges. Natural. Low effort. Like you’re not buzzing in your seat just thinking about him.

You keep wondering what version of him you’ll get today. The soft one with sleepy eyes and heavy limbs who tucks his head into your neck and hums when he breathes you in. The quiet one who just wants to be close. Or maybe the cheeky one who teases you in the car the whole way home and can’t keep his hands to himself once the door clicks shut.

Either way, he’s here. Finally.

You pull into the short-term parking garage and kill the engine, heart thudding now. This is it. He’s just a few hundred feet away. Probably dragging his duffel bag behind him, scrolling his phone or yawning through his last wave of exhaustion. You sling your purse over your shoulder and head toward the terminal.

Your boots echo across the pavement. The air inside is warmer than you expected, and loud. Rolling suitcases, babies crying, someone’s name being paged overhead. You scan the arrivals board as if you don’t already know—Flight 202. London to New York. Landed.

He steps through the sliding doors like he’s walking into a scene that’s been waiting for him.

Loose brown trousers, soft white tee, sunglasses hanging from the collar. His hair’s shorter than when you last saw him, brushed back with that casually undone look that somehow makes it worse—makes your heart thud harder in your chest. There’s a little color to his skin, a post-tour flush like he’s been somewhere warm, somewhere you weren’t. His duffel hangs from one shoulder, hand gripping the strap, and he scans the crowd like he’s looking for something he lost.

Until his eyes land on you.

He doesn’t smile at first. Not really. His whole body just seems to pause, his gaze locked on yours like he forgot how loud the world is. You feel it like a pull—an ache that settles low in your belly, sharp and immediate. Because it’s not just recognition in his eyes. It’s hunger.

You don’t move. Neither does he. The space between you hums.

Then someone breaks it.

“Harry?” A man, maybe in his twenties, stepping hesitantly forward with a phone in hand. “Sorry, I know you just got in, but—could I get a quick photo?”

Harry blinks. Just once. Then turns to him with a practiced, polite smile.

“Yeah, of course.”

He poses without effort, one hand still gripping his bag. The smile doesn’t touch his eyes.

You watch him thank the guy, watch the fan beam as he walks away. And then Harry’s looking at you again, already moving toward you. Slower this time. Like he’s trying to stay calm. Like he knows he won’t be, not for long.

He doesn’t say anything.

Not at first.

He just lets the strap of his duffel fall to the floor with a quiet thud and steps into you, arms winding tight around your waist like it’s instinct. You barely have time to breathe before he’s pressing you close, his body all solid warmth and tension, chest rising fast against yours.

Then he leans in.

Not for a kiss—not yet. He presses his face into the side of your neck and just breathes. Long, slow, deliberate. Like he’s been holding off for this exact moment, saving it, needing it more than he let on.

You feel it before you hear it—the way his exhale trembles just slightly, the way his fingers grip a little harder at the small of your back. Like maybe this hit him harder than he was ready for.

“God, I missed you,” he mumbles against your skin, the words thick and barely there.

Your eyes flutter shut. Your hands slide up his back, curling in the fabric of his shirt at his shoulders. He’s here. He’s really here.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing the hem of your shirt where it meets your jeans. His eyes roam your face like he’s memorizing it again, slower this time, softer. His voice is a whisper, the accent heavy and real in a way you’ve only heard on the phone lately.

“Y’look so fuckin’ good, baby.”

Your heart trips. You open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out.

He tilts his forehead to yours, eyes half-lidded, and smiles like he’s already thinking ten steps ahead.

“Been thinkin’ about you non-stop. Every night. Every bloody city. Drove me mad.”

You laugh, soft and breathless, and pull back just enough to see him clearly.

“I missed you too,” you say, grinning now, the weight in your chest finally loosening. “Even the dramatic part of you.”

He smiles like he’s proud of that, dimples deep and eyes flicking to your mouth like he’s thinking about kissing you again. But instead, he slips a hand into yours and starts walking, his duffel back over his shoulder, your fingers laced like they’ve never been apart.

Outside, the sky’s shifting to gold. The kind of light that softens everything, that makes moments feel like memories while they’re still happening.

As you make your way to the garage, you glance over at him. “D’you wanna stop for food before we head home?”

He doesn’t miss a beat.

“Nah,” he says, voice low, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. “Only thing I wanna eat is you.”

You choke on a laugh, your whole face heating. “Harry.”

“What?” he says, eyes wide like he’s innocent, but his hand tightens around yours. “I’m starvin’, love.”

You shake your head, biting back a smile as your stomach flips. Two months apart, and of course this is how he comes back. Cocky. Gorgeous. Starving.

And apparently, not for takeout.

The elevator ride to the garage is quiet, but only because his hand won’t stop wandering—thumb tracing slow circles into your palm, pinky brushing your wrist like he’s trying to remember every inch of you without making a scene.

Once you reach the car, he tosses his bag in the back like it weighs nothing and slides into the passenger seat, reclined and smug. His legs spread a little wider than necessary. You try not to look, but he catches you anyway.

“Eyes on the road, sweetheart,” he murmurs as you pull out of the garage.

You roll your eyes. “You’re the one sitting like you’re in a Calvin Klein ad.”

He grins, slow and wicked. “Don’t act like you weren’t lookin’. Missed that face of yours when you get all flustered.”

“I’m not flustered.”

“You are,” he says, tipping his head against the headrest. “Little pink right there.” He lifts his finger and brushes it under his own cheekbone to show you. “Cute.”

You let out a sharp breath through your nose and flick on your turn signal. “Do you want something quick? Like drive-thru? Or—”

“I meant what I said,” he interrupts, voice a little lower now. “Didn’t spend nine hours on a plane just to ruin my appetite with fries.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

He hums like it’s a compliment. “Reckon I’ve had that dream at least five times. You. Couch. No clothes. Me starvin’.”

You grip the steering wheel tighter and do your best to keep your eyes on the road. It’s not going well.

“Harry,” you warn.

“Don’t worry,” he says with a shrug. “I’ll wait till we get home.”

A pause.

“Probably.”

You glance at him, lips twitching. “Bold of you to assume you’re the one doing the eating.”

He turns his head slowly, that smug little smirk faltering as his eyebrows lift. “Yeah?”

You shrug, eyes back on the road. “You’ve had dreams? Babe, I’ve had entire scenarios planned. You don’t even know.”

He’s quiet for a beat, and when you look over, he’s staring at you like you just flipped the game on its head.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters under his breath, shifting in his seat. “I’ve been gone too long.”

You bite back your grin, suddenly enjoying how the air in the car feels thick now, humming with that delicious tension. Payback feels good.

He leans closer, voice like gravel against the warm press of sunset through the window. “Tell me one of ‘em. Just one.”

“Nope.”

“Please?”

“You can earn it.”

His head falls back with a groan, one hand dragging down his face. “You’re evil.”

“And you’re desperate.”

He lets out a soft laugh, low and turned on. “That I am.”

The car ride softens after that.

He reaches over and rests a hand on your thigh, fingers splayed warm against your jeans. Not moving, not teasing—just there. Grounding. You drive one-handed the rest of the way, stealing glances at him whenever the road lets you.

He looks more like himself now. Less performer, more person. His eyes are a little heavy, his curls ruffled from the headrest, his body sunk deeper into the seat like it’s finally catching up with him—how long he’s been gone, how much he missed this. Missed you.

You slow as you turn down your street. Familiar trees, familiar windows. The kind of quiet that tells you you’re nearly home.

He shifts beside you, eyes opening again as he recognizes the corner. “Flat’s still standing, yeah?”

You nod, lips tugging into a smile. “I only set it on fire twice.”

He grins, squeezing your leg gently. “Knew I could trust you.”

The car rolls to a stop outside your building. The sun’s dipping lower now, casting long shadows across the pavement. You don’t move yet. Neither does he.

There’s a beat of silence, heavy in a different way this time.

Then, softer—

“You sure you’re ready for me?” he asks, like he’s only half-joking. “Been thinkin’ about this for weeks.”

Your heart stutters, but your voice stays steady.

“Been ready since the day you left.”

The lobby is quiet except for the soft hum of the overhead lights and the echo of your footsteps on the tile. You feel him behind you—close, so close—his presence brushing up your spine like static. Neither of you says much. There’s nothing left to say, not right now. It’s all waiting just under the surface.

You press the elevator button. The light flickers on, then nothing. You glance at him.

His eyes are dark.

The elevator arrives with a slow chime, and you both step inside. The doors slide shut and it’s just the two of you now, standing side by side in the warm silence.

You can feel the way his fingers flex at his sides. Can hear the slow rhythm of his breathing. There’s a twitch in your own hands—an urge to touch, to reach, to give in already—but you keep still. Barely.

The numbers tick up. Seven. Eight. Nine. It’s excruciating.

He leans in, whispering just loud enough for you to hear. “This thing’s takin’ the piss.”

You bite your lip. “Almost there.”

When the doors finally open, you step out first. You don’t wait. Not this time.

You lead the way down the hall, heart pounding harder with every step. You reach the door, slide your key in with a hand that isn’t quite steady. The lock clicks.

Before you can even reach for the light switch, you hear the thud of his bag hitting the floor.

Then he’s on you.

His hands are on your hips, your back, your waist, pulling you into him as the door shuts hard behind you. His mouth finds your neck, warm and hungry, and your gasp fills the dark hallway. You don’t need the lights. You just need him—right here, right now.

He lifts your shirt slightly, lips brushing just beneath your jaw.

“Couldn’t wait another bloody second,” he mumbles against your skin.

And then he kisses you like he means to make up for every second he’s been gone.

Your back hits the door with a soft thud, the wood cool through your shirt, but everything else is heat. His hands are everywhere—one at your waist, the other sliding up your side beneath the hem of your top, rough fingertips skimming bare skin like he’s rediscovering you inch by inch.

His mouth crashes into yours before you can speak, and all the air leaves your lungs at once.

It’s not frantic. It’s not rushed.

It’s worse than that.

It’s slow. Intentional. Full of that maddening kind of restraint that only comes from someone who’s been imagining this in vivid detail for weeks. His lips move over yours like he’s tasting a memory—soft, then deep, then soft again. He kisses you like it’s the only thing tethering him to earth.

You melt into him without meaning to, hands sliding up under the hem of his shirt, fingers grazing the curve of his waist, the slope of his back. He shivers under your touch.

When you pull away just enough to breathe, his mouth doesn’t stop. He trails kisses across your cheek, down the curve of your jaw, to that spot just below your ear that makes your knees go weak. He knows it does. He lingers there, mouth warm and open, the scrape of his teeth just enough to make you gasp.

“Fuckin’ missed this,” he breathes, voice thick and rough, his accent slurring the edges of every word. “Missed you.”

You don’t even try to answer. You just kiss him again, harder this time, your fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt like you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you let go.

He presses closer, slotting a leg between yours, the weight of him pressing into every line of your body. You feel the tension in his muscles, the way he holds back, jaw tight like he’s clinging to control by a thread.

And God, it makes you want him more.

His thumb strokes the underside of your breast through your bra, slow and teasing, while his other hand cradles the back of your head like he can’t bear to be any further from your mouth.

When he kisses you again, it’s deeper. Wetter. His tongue slides against yours and it’s all heat now, all need. You arch into him, breath catching in your throat.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispers against your lips. “Yeah?”

You nod, eyes locked on his, and he presses one last kiss to your mouth—soft, like a promise—before guiding you away from the door.

His hand stays at the small of your back as he walks you through the flat, steering you gently down the hallway. The air feels warmer here, more still, like even the rooms missed him. When you reach the bedroom, he nudges the door open with his foot and leads you in like it’s something sacred.

He stops at the edge of the bed and looks at you, eyes dark and steady.

“Sit down for me, love.”

You do, heart hammering as you settle on the edge of the mattress, legs just barely parted, your eyes tilted up to him. He steps between your knees, fingers reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. Then both hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt.

“Arms up.”

You raise them without hesitation, and he peels your shirt off slow, knuckles grazing your skin as he lifts the fabric over your head. It drops to the floor behind him, forgotten.

He leans in again, mouth catching yours before you can speak. His kiss is deeper now, slower, hands resting just beneath your ribs as he presses into you. Every inch of him is warm. Grounded. Certain.

Between kisses, his fingers move to the button of your jeans.

You feel the faint pop of denim giving way, the soft drag of his knuckles as he works them open. He doesn’t look down. Doesn’t break the kiss. Just keeps kissing you like he’s starving, like you’re the only thing he’s craved since he left.

You lift your hips for him and his hands slide around to your thighs, easing your jeans down, dragging the fabric slow over your skin. The kiss never falters. His lips move with yours like he’s drinking you in, like nothing—not time or distance or fabric—should’ve ever been between you to begin with.

When he finally pulls back, your jeans are on the floor, your chest is rising fast, and his mouth is pink from how long he’s kept it on yours.

His eyes rake over you, voice low and ragged.

“Fuckin’ hell, look at you.”

You laugh softly, a nervous little sound that slips out without warning. He catches it right away, eyes narrowing like he’s just found a crack in the wall.

“What’s that for?” he asks, voice low but amused. His hands rest on your bare thighs, thumbs brushing lazy circles into your skin. “Somethin’ funny, sweetheart?”

You shrug, lips twitching like you’re trying to play it off, but he doesn’t buy it. Not for a second.

He leans in, mouth brushing just beneath your ear. “Tell me somethin’,” he murmurs, breath warm on your skin. “What do you do when I’m not here? When you’re feelin’ like this. D’you take care of yourself?”

You go still. Not because you don’t know the answer. But because you do.

His lips curl against your cheek. “You get shy on me now?”

“I don’t—” you start, then falter. Your voice is soft when you finally speak. “I don’t really do that.”

He pulls back just enough to see your face, one brow raised. “Liar.”

You flush.

“C’mon,” he coaxes, brushing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I’ve been gone two months. Don’t tell me you haven’t done a single thing. That’s cruel.”

You hesitate.

Then, barely audible—

“I read.”

His brow furrows, amused. “You read?”

You nod, eyes flicking down to his collarbone. “Stuff online.”

There’s a pause.

And then, his voice drops, accent thick with curiosity and something darker.

“Fan fiction?”

You nod again, smaller this time.

He stares at you like he’s just been handed a gift he wasn’t expecting.

“No fuckin’ way,” he murmurs, smiling now, a little breathless. “You read fan fiction about me?”

Your face burns.

He leans in closer, one hand cradling your jaw.

“Gonna need you to walk me through that, baby.”

Your eyes dart away from his, and your fingers fidget with the hem of your underwear, suddenly very aware of how little you’re wearing—and how close he is.

He watches you carefully, waiting. Patient, but barely.

“It’s just…” you start, then trail off, chewing your bottom lip. “Stuff people write. About you. About… you and someone like me.”

His brow arches. “Someone like you?”

You nod, embarrassed. “Normal. Not famous. Not anyone special. Just… someone.”

You feel his hand tighten slightly on your thigh, and when you glance up, there’s a glint in his eye. He’s not laughing at you. He’s fascinated.

“And what happens in these stories?” he asks, voice soft, coaxing. “You get shy? Or do they make you do filthy little things?”

You press your lips together, face flaming, but he can see it. The answer written all over you.

He chuckles, low and warm in his chest, leaning in to kiss your shoulder. “Jesus Christ,” he breathes. “You’re tellin’ me you’ve been sittin’ in our bed at night, readin’ about me fuckin’ you senseless?”

Your breath hitches.

He pulls back just enough to look at you again, eyes sweeping your face like he wants to see every flicker of reaction. His voice is husky now, rough with interest.

“That’s so dirty, love.”

You try to speak, but he’s already leaning in, pressing a kiss just below your jaw.

“And you just sit there with your little phone,” he murmurs, lips brushing your throat. “Readin’ things I haven’t even done to you yet.”

You swallow hard, eyes flicking down before you can stop yourself—and there it is. The outline of him, straining against his trousers, the fabric doing nothing to hide just how much he wants you.

Your breath catches. The sight makes your thighs press together involuntarily, a quiet ache growing where his hands haven’t touched yet.

He notices.

Of course he does.

His smirk deepens, dark and lazy. “Gettin’ worked up just from that, are you?” he teases, thumb brushing the inside of your knee. “Didn’t even have to touch you yet.”

You exhale shakily, your voice soft. “I want you to.”

He stills for a beat—just one. Then his expression shifts. The playfulness doesn’t vanish, but something darker, more focused, settles into his eyes.

“Yeah?” he murmurs. “You lettin’ me take over now, baby?”

You nod, already breathless. “Please.”

That’s all it takes.

He leans in and kisses you again—harder this time, deeper, like permission unlocked something in him. His hands are on your hips, your waist, your ribs, sliding up until they’re cupping your breasts through your bra. He palms you there, slow and firm, like he’s been missing the weight of you in his hands.

“You’ve got no idea what that does to me,” he mutters into your mouth. “You, sittin’ all pretty, readin’ about me fuckin’ you just like this…”

His fingers reach around to undo the clasp of your bra, taking his time, letting the tension pull tight as elastic. When it finally falls away, he breathes you in like he’s starving again.

Then, without a word, he lowers himself to his knees in front of you, lips brushing your stomach, hands gripping your thighs.

“Gonna take my fuckin’ time with you,” he says, voice a promise against your skin.

He drags his hands up the backs of your thighs, thumbs brushing the crease where they meet your hips as he settles between them. You’re already trembling under his touch, legs slightly parted on instinct, eyes locked on him as he looks up at you from the floor like you’re something sacred.

“Lie back for me, love,” he says, voice rough and low.

You shift back onto the bed, elbows catching you for a second before you sink into the pillows, legs still dangling over the edge. His hands follow you the whole way—never losing contact—until he’s got your thighs open just the way he wants them.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and looks up again.

“This what you pictured when you were readin’?” he asks, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Me down here, beggin’ for a taste?”

You nod, breath shallow. “Yes.”

That’s all he needs.

He pulls your underwear down slow, eyes following every inch of skin he reveals like he’s memorizing it, storing it away. Once they’re off, he leans in and presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, then your thigh, then higher—trailing heat until your whole body’s drawn tight with anticipation.

Then his mouth is on you.

His tongue flicks over you gently at first, teasing, testing. Then he flattens it, licking a slow stripe up your center that makes your hips jerk and a soft cry spill from your lips. His hands slide under your thighs, keeping you open, anchored, at his mercy.

He groans when he tastes you fully, the sound vibrating against your skin.

“Fuckin’ missed this,” he mutters, voice muffled against you. “Missed how sweet you are.”

He settles in deeper, his mouth working you in slow, steady movements—tongue swirling, lips sucking just enough to make your toes curl. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t let up. Just builds it slowly, deliberately, like he’s got nowhere else to be but here, worshiping you.

Your hand slides into his hair, gripping when his tongue flicks just right, hips lifting into him as the tension coils hard in your belly.

“You’re gonna come for me, yeah?” he murmurs against you, breath hot. “Right on my fuckin’ tongue. Let me have it.”

You’re close—so close it almost hurts. The pressure’s built tight in your belly, your thighs shaking around his shoulders, his name falling from your lips in broken pieces. He doesn’t let up. If anything, he gets hungrier, tongue working you with that slow, steady rhythm that undoes you completely.

Your back arches off the bed. Fingers tangle in his hair.

“Harry—fuck—Harry, I’m gonna—”

He groans against you like that’s exactly what he wants, like the sound of your voice wrecked and desperate is the only thing keeping him alive. And then you’re falling apart. The orgasm hits hard, flooding through you in waves, and he holds you right there, mouth never leaving you, like he wants every last bit of it.

You whimper as you come down, your body twitching from the aftershocks, chest heaving. He finally lifts his head, lips slick, eyes dark and blown.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, kissing the inside of your thigh. “Knew you’d be sweet for me.”

You’re still catching your breath when you reach for him, fingers curling into his shirt.

“Take your clothes off,” you whisper. “I need you to fuck me.”

That gets his attention.

He laughs softly, rising to his feet. “That desperate, hm?”

“Yes,” you say, no shame in your voice. “I need you.”

He leans over you, bracing his hands on either side of your head, his mouth ghosting just over yours. You can feel him, hard against your thigh, still fully clothed, and it’s maddening.

“Could keep you like this a while,” he says, teasing. “All needy and wrecked and beggin’ for it. Could make you wait.”

You whimper, hips shifting beneath him. “Don’t be cruel.”

He grins, dipping down to kiss you slow, tongue sweeping into your mouth like he owns it. Then he pulls back just enough to whisper, voice low and hot—

“Then tell me how you want it.”

You open your mouth to answer, but he’s already moving.

“Don’t need you to tell me,” he murmurs, straightening up with that look in his eyes—confident, dark, completely in control. “I know exactly what you need.”

You watch from the bed, breath shallow, as he reaches for the hem of his shirt and peels it off in one fluid motion. His chest is golden from the sun, stomach tight, the familiar trail of hair disappearing into his waistband making your mouth go dry.

Your thighs press together without thinking.

Then he unbuttons his trousers. Slow. Deliberate. He holds your gaze the entire time, like he knows what he’s doing to you—like he wants you to see exactly what you’ve been missing. He pushes them down along with his briefs, and the second they fall, his cock springs free—thick, flushed, heavy against his stomach.

Your breath catches.

Precum glistens at the tip, already leaking, and he wraps a hand around the base with a low sigh of relief, stroking once.

“Been hard since the bloody airport,” he mutters. “Soon as I saw you. Didn’t even make it through baggage claim without thinkin’ about bendin’ you over the nearest flat surface.”

You moan, hips shifting against the sheets.

He steps between your legs again, stroking himself lazily now, eyes raking over your body like he’s trying to decide exactly where to start.

“You ready for me, love?” he asks, voice thick, teasing. “You want this cock inside you?”

You nod, desperate. “Yes. Please, Harry.”

He leans over you, pressing the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing just enough to make your breath hitch.

“Gonna fuck you slow,” he says, kissing your jaw, your neck, the space just beneath your ear. “Wanna feel every fuckin’ inch of you.”

Then he pushes in.

He pushes just the tip inside, then stops.

Your hands clutch at the sheets. “Harry—”

“Shh,” he murmurs against your skin, brushing his nose along your neck. “Not yet.”

He pulls out slowly, dragging the head of his cock through your slick folds, teasing your entrance, your clit, everything but what you need.

“Wanna know somethin’ first,” he says, voice thick with amusement, but his hips stay steady, cruelly patient. “You never told me what your favorite part was.”

You blink, dazed. “What?”

“In those stories,” he murmurs, sucking gently at your throat. “The ones you read at night. About me. What’s your favorite part?”

You shake your head, breath catching as he presses in again—just barely—then pulls back.

“C’mon, love,” he says, his voice laced with a dark kind of sweetness. “I wanna hear you say it.”

You whimper. “I like when you talk.”

He stills, grinning against your jaw. “Yeah? When I’m filthy with you?”

You nod quickly, lips parting, breath uneven. “And when you—” You falter, heat blooming across your chest. “When you go down on her and don’t stop. When you say it’s yours.”

That breaks him.

“Jesus,” he groans, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re gonna kill me.”

He shifts his hips again, just enough for the head of his cock to push inside once more.

“Say it now,” he breathes. “Say you’re mine.”

Your fingers curl around his biceps, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m yours, Harry. I’m yours.”

His mouth crashes into yours again, and this time, he doesn’t hold back.

His mouth finds yours again, hot and hungry, and he sinks into you all at once—slow but deep—his cock stretching you open inch by inch until you’re full of him, breath caught in your throat. The moan you let out is pure instinct, helpless and raw, and it makes him groan right back, low in his chest like it physically knocks the air out of him.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters, jaw tight, buried all the way to the hilt. “You feel—Jesus, baby—you feel so fuckin’ good.”

Your fingers grip his shoulders, your legs hooking around his waist, trying to draw him in deeper even though he’s already as close as he can get. He stays there for a second, not moving, just letting you feel it—letting himself feel it.

Then he pulls back slow, almost to the tip, before thrusting in again, harder this time. Your head tips back, mouth falling open with a gasp.

“There she is,” he growls, one hand sliding up your body to wrap around your throat—not tight, just enough to hold you there, eyes on him. “That the part you like, yeah? When I fuck you like I ownyou?”

You nod, whimpering. “Yes—Harry—”

“God, I missed this pussy,” he says, hips snapping into you again. “Dreamt about it. Woke up hard on the fuckin’ tour bus thinkin’ about you spread out like this.”

He’s moving now, really moving, fucking you slow and deep but with purpose, every thrust hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes your vision blur. Your body meets him with every roll of his hips, greedy, desperate, like it’s been waiting for him just as long as your heart has.

You moan again and his lips find your ear.

“That what you wanted, baby?” he pants. “Wanted my cock stretchin’ you out just like this? Bet none of those fanfics made you feel like this.”

“N-no,” you choke out, nails digging into his back. “Nothing like this.”

“Yeah?” His pace quickens slightly, his voice going rougher. “Tell me whose it is.”

“Yours,” you breathe, eyes wide and glassy. “Yours, Harry.”

“Say it again.”

“Yours—fuck—yours.”

He leans down and kisses you hard, messy, full of tongue and teeth and heat, his hips relentless now. He’s grunting with every thrust, sweat beading at his temples, his whole body working to bring you right to the edge again.

“I can feel you squeezin’ me,” he groans. “You’re close, aren’t you? Gonna come for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes—don’t stop—don’t—”

He slips a hand between your bodies, thumb circling your clit in tight, wet strokes while he keeps fucking into you deep and fast.

“Come on, baby,” he murmurs, voice cracked and wild. “Come on. Let me feel it.”

And that’s all it takes.

You shatter around him with a cry, your whole body pulsing, shaking, coming hard on his cock. He fucks you through it, eyes locked on your face like he wants to remember everything.

“Fuck—fuck, I’m gonna—”

He pulls out at the last second, hand stroking himself twice before he spills all over your stomach with a groan so guttural it makes your toes curl. Thick, hot, and messy. He leans over you, breathing hard, eyes dark and wrecked, thumb brushing your cheek.

“You’re somethin’ else,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss you again, slower now, sweeter. 

You’re still trying to catch your breath when he leans back on his heels, eyes dragging over your body—sweat-slicked, legs still trembling, his release glistening on your stomach. There’s a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, but it’s not just cocky. It’s hungry. Like he’s already thinking about what comes next.

“Can’t believe I spent weeks in hotel beds with my hand wrapped ‘round my cock,” he mutters, one hand sliding up your thigh again. “When this was waitin’ for me.”

You open your mouth to respond, but then he’s dipping down again, licking a slow, deliberate stripe up your stomach. You jolt, a whimper escaping your lips as his tongue drags through his own mess.

“Harry—”

He hums, like it’s nothing. Like the taste of you—of both of you—doesn’t drive him mad.

His tongue swirls over your skin, not in a rush this time, just savoring. Teasing. His hands slide back up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts before he lowers his mouth again and sucks one nipple between his lips.

You gasp, arching into him.

“You still sensitive?” he asks, voice muffled against your skin. “That why you’re shakin’ like that?”

You nod, legs twitching around him. “Y-Yeah.”

He grins against your breast, mouth moving to the other. “Good.”

He slides a hand between your legs again, fingers pressing right where you’re still dripping, still open from him.

“‘Cause I’m not finished with you yet.”

He looks up at you, eyes dark and wild, fingers circling your clit again in slow, deliberate strokes.

“You’re gonna come again, baby. Just like in those stories you read. Over and over ‘til you can’t even say my name.”

[pinkboaclub]

Sweet Thing [prequal blurb]

Summery: You and Harry are best friends, despite your 15 year age gap. He asks you to be his date at a work party, but doesn’t realize how possessive he just may be.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: older!harry, angst then fluff, age gap (15 years), possessiveness, fem!reader

"Pretty dress for a pretty girl," Harry's voice came from the doorway.

You stood in front of the mirror, carefully adjusting the fabric of your dress. The material clung to you in all the right ways. A swirl of nerves knotted in your stomach, making you second-guess your choice.

You glanced at him in the reflection, feeling a little unsure. "It’s not too much, is it?"

He moved closer, his footsteps light, his eyes never leaving you. "Not at all. You look perfect." His lips kissed your head as his hand gently rested on your shoulder.

Harry had invited you as his date to a work party he was hosting. You’d met a few of his colleagues in passing, but never like this, never as Harry’s date. The thought alone made your palms a little sweaty.

You adjusted your hair and gave yourself one last look in the mirror, making sure your makeup was just right. With a final spritz of perfume, you took a steadying breath and linked your arm with Harry’s. He gave a warm and reassuring smile and led you downstairs.

"Such a gentleman," you teased as he opened the front door for you and guided you into the passenger seat of his car.

He chuckled. "Someone has to be."

The drive was quiet but comforting. Harry was always at ease, making small talk about work, the city, anything to fill the space. When you arrived at the venue, he did the same, opening the car door with an easy grace before helping you step out onto the red carpeted walkway.

"Shall we?" he asked, offering his arm with a charming grin.

You giggled and nodded, slipping your hand through his and walked into the party.

Once inside, the atmosphere was very shiny, polished, full of people wearing smiles that were just a little too perfect. The men shook hands, the women glided in their gowns, and everyone seemed to be in conversation for the sole purpose of making connections.

It wasn’t long before you were swept away by some of the wives, pulling you into their circle.

They didn’t waste any time with small talk, quickly asking you about Harry. "So, how long have you and Harry been dating?" one of them asked.

"Oh, we’re just friends."

The woman blinked at you in surprise. "Really? But you’ve…well, you’ve slept together, right?" She bluntly asked.

The question hit you like a splash of ice cold water. You shifted uncomfortably but kept your composure. "No, we haven’t."

Her eyebrows arched, and she let out a knowing laugh, that was almost condescending. "Well, you could have fooled me."

You had no idea how to respond. Before you could get any words out, another one of the wives chimed in, dragging the conversation in another direction.

Meanwhile, Harry was engaged in a conversation with Eric, a colleague of his.

"She's beautiful, Harry," Eric commented as he raised his glass, a smirk on his face. "How long have you two been together?"

Harry stiffened just the slightest bit before answering, without thinking, he lied, embellishing the truth. "A couple of months. But we’ve been friends for a while."

Eric raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the distinction. Harry wasn’t an idiot. He knew Eric had eyes on you, despite him being 50 and you being 23. He knew he had no right to interfere, he should have let you reject Eric yourself, but he couldn’t help it.

Later in the night, you found yourself conversing alone with Eric. He was charming and handsome, a silver fox, but something about him made you uneasy.

"You and Harry seem like a great couple," Eric remarked, a glint of something almost predatory in his eyes.

You laughed, trying to keep the conversation light. "Oh, we’re not a couple."

He blinked in surprise. "Really? Harry told me you two were dating.”

“Uh, no, we’re close friends, he asked me to be his date tonight.”

Well, if you’re single, can I get your number? I’d love to take you out." He pulled out his phone, the screen glowing in the dim lighting.

It wasn’t that you were actively avoiding relationships, but you certainly weren’t looking for one at the moment. Still, you didn’t want to make things uncomfortable, especially since you didn’t have the ‘I have a boyfriend’ excuse anymore.

"Sure," you said with a smile, though your body tensed up. You grabbed his phone, typing in your number.

From across the room, Harry’s eyes locked onto the scene. His face darkened, though he kept his distance, the line of his jaw tight.

The rest of the night felt like an endless loop of small talk, but something in Harry’s demeanor had shifted. He was quieter, more reserved around you, though he wasn’t outright rude. You noticed it, the way he was almost avoiding you, his answers shorter, less engaging. But you didn’t have time to dwell on it as the night was already winding down.

"Not really in the mood to stay, bunny." he muttered in your ear, his voice tired.

You nodded. The drive back was silent, but the tension between you both was thick enough to feel like it was pressing against your chest.

"Harry," you began, hesitating, "Why did you tell Eric we’re dating?"

He didn’t immediately respond, his fingers tight on the steering wheel. "Are you really thinking about going with him?" he asked, his voice quiet, but his words sharp.

You raised an eyebrow, playing along. "I don’t know. He’s kind of cute. Do you have a problem with that?"

Harry’s gaze flickered to you for a moment, his lips curling into a tight, frustrated smile. "He’s too old for you," he muttered under his breath.

You didn’t bite back immediately, instead choosing to remind him, "We have a pretty big age gap, you know."

Harry’s eyes flashed, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the wheel. "He’s 50, I’m 38. And he’s just trying to bone a 23-year-old before never talking to you again."

The words stung a bit, you felt a sharp pang in your chest. It wasn’t just the age comment, but the way he spoke about it…like you were some sort of object for Eric to claim and discard.

You were already pulling at the door handle by the time the car came to a stop in front of the house, your silence louder than any words. Without saying anything, you stepped out and headed inside, your heart thumping as you retreated to the bathroom to shower.

Harry immediately regretted his words, he had let his emotions get to him. He decided to wait outside the bathroom door, which was connected to his room, and wait for you so he could apologize. He sat on his bed quietly, replaying the words in his mind, guilt flowing through him.

After a few minutes, you emerged in your pajamas, your wet hair dripping slightly. Without a word, Harry pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you as he buried his face in your neck.

"I’m sorry," he murmured, his voice filled with regret. "I didn’t mean what I said earlier. I just…I just feel protective of you. And I never meant to imply that Eric only sees you for your age and not how perfect you are, sweet thing."

You relaxed into his embrace, a soft smile tugging at your lips as his lips started to travel around your body. His kisses were gentle as they went down your face, across your cheeks, your forehead, then back to your neck, making you giggle and squirm.

"I forgive you," you whispered, your voice light, the tension finally slipping away. “And for the record, I wasn’t actually considering going on a date with him, you’re the only old man I want in my life.”

He laughed out, more guilt rushing through his body, thinking about how much he overreacted when you weren’t even being serious.

“I love you, sweet thing, I promise not to cock block you the next time you’re about to get some…even if the dick is old enough to be your father.”

[read more of Sweet Thing here!] [and here!]

Tag List:

@mema10

@lizsogolden

[maudie-duan]

Summary: Fuck domestic bliss…because you couldn’t remember the last time you didn’t want to bite Harry’s head off or if sex still existed between you both—weeks of cold indifference have turned into all the little angers adding up until you both finally hit your boiling point, and shit hits the fan, a breaking point neither one of you saw coming, and that's it! Now cue the aftermath as you watch the dust settle. How will Harry help you mend all the broken pieces that are past the point of fixing? A/N: This story is based on this request<- bear with me. I did veer off course slightly! But only like the slightest bit. I only added some little gems that made that juicy request even better. Long story short, my brain turned the request into a “worship kink,” and here we are! Warning: Fighting, Filth, Fucking, and Fluff. xFem!reader, this one gets a happy ending!😉 Word Count: 7.6k

Fuck domestic bliss.

What was it anyway? A phrase you had heard so many times and understood, had been lucky enough to have felt and lived it, but lately, you felt it slipping through your grasp little by little.

The contradiction of closeness lies in this truth.

Sometimes, the very comforts of domestic life that once drew you together can slowly pull you apart, familiarity breeding not contempt but a dangerous indifference. Maybe this wasn’t everyone’s truth, but there is truth in the tiny details—In the words left unsaid, in the gestures you keep to yourself, the small angers that were never addressed.

Somewhere between the shared routines and the predictable rhythms of togetherness, you lost sight of what truly mattered—the connection you had that once felt like magic was being buried beneath the mundane details of everyday existence.

And this was you and Harry.

Stuck in the rut of everyday life.

A rut it was because when was the last time you guys had sex? Felt the warmth of his body, not the chill that came with the silent shuffle of starting each new day, the curt good mornings said in passing, or perfunctory kisses goodbye. You knew you both desperately needed this reset.

Dinner had been perfect so far—a homemade lasagna in your favorite vintage casserole dish, the one with the delicate blue flowers around the rim that had been your grandmother’s. It was the only thing you wanted from her estate; you saved it for truly special occasions, and tonight—a chance to finally reconnect with Harry—felt worthy.

When Harry complimented your cooking, his green eyes creasing at the corners as he reached for seconds, you felt the first real thaw in the frost that had settled between you. Maybe tonight could be the beginning of finding your way back to each other. It was the kind of evening you both needed after a long week. The kind where the outside world ceased to exist, where deadlines and meetings and stress melted away with each sip of the rich red wine Harry had brought home.

A perfect, cozy bubble of domestic bliss.

Until it wasn’t.

“Harry, that’s not how you load a dishwasher,” you almost snapped, watching him haphazardly stack plates on top of each other, silverware pointing in every direction, the sight of it already getting under your skin.

He glanced up at you, a strand of dark hair falling across his forehead. “Does it matter? It all gets clean anyway.”

You sighed, setting down the wine glass you’d been drying. “Yes, it matters. The water can’t reach everything if you stack them like that. And the silverware needs to be sorted.”

“I’ve been loading dishwashers since before I met you,” Harry replied, continuing to place a bowl where it clearly didn’t belong. “Never had a problem.”

“Well, you’re having one now,” you said, moving to his side and beginning to rearrange the dishes for what felt like the 100th time since you moved in together, “Look, the plates go here, vertically. And cups on the top rack.”

Harry took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Seriously? You’re actually reorganizing it?” And he huffs out a breath like a child being reprimanded, and it sets you off even further.

“Someone has to do it properly.”

The tension in the room shifted.

Thickened.

What had started as a simple correction was quickly becoming something else entirely, but you knew you couldn’t go on like this without saying another word.

For weeks now, you’d been swallowing your tiny irritations—the dishes left in the sink, the damp towels on the bathroom floor, the half-empty coffee mugs abandoned throughout the apartment. Each small oversight had been a pebble added to the growing pile of resentment, and suddenly, this dishwasher incident was the final stone that sent the whole thing tumbling down.

The pressure of all the unspoken frustrations had been building inside you like a kettle about to whistle, and now the steam needed somewhere to go.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry’s tone held an edge to it now, the one you recognized as his defenses going up.

“It means,” you forced, ripping a mug he had wedged between two plates, “that you never load it right, and I always end up fixing every damn dish.”

Harry scoffed. “For fucks sake, here we go. ‘Harry never does anything right.’ Is that it?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what you meant. I can hear it with every word you’re saying”

“If it’s not complicated, then why does it matter how I do it?” His voice was rising now, hands gesturing emphatically. “Why do you always have to micromanage every damn thing I do in this apartment?”

“Micromanage? I’m not your fucking mom, Harry!” You felt the heat of anger rising to your cheeks, fury burning through you. “Asking you to load the fucking dishwasher correctly is micromanaging?”

“It’s never just about the dishwasher, is it?” Harry ran a hand through his hair, a sure sign he was getting truly agitated. “It’s the way I fold the damn laundry, or how I organize the fucking refrigerator, or the fact that I put my shoes in the wrong spot. The shit I do is never good enough for you.”

The accusation landed hard, stinging more than you expected, piercing through your irritation, hitting something deeper. “That’s not fair.”

“How is that not fair? Am I wrong?” Harry’s eyes were dark now, his jaw set. “You say you’re not my Mum, but you’re always correcting me, always finding something wrong with how I do things.”

“I’m not—That’s not fucking true and you know it!”

“Yes, you are!” His voice echoed in the kitchen, making you flinch, and you stilled your movements, “You think your way is the only right way, and God forbid anyone do things differently!”

That’s when you felt the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back, your pride refusing to let him see how much his words were hurting you. “I’m just trying to help,” you whisper.

“No, you’re trying to control,” Harry shot back, his voice still loud. Harry was so caught up in his anger that he couldn’t read the room--see the pain lacing your features, “There’s a difference.”

The silence that followed hung heavy, painfully deafening, filled with all the things you both wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for. You stared at each other across the kitchen, the distance between you feeling like miles rather than feet. It was terrifying how quickly love could transform into this—how the face you had memorized in all its expressions could suddenly seem like it belonged to a stranger.

The green eyes that usually held such warmth for you now flashed with something cold and foreign. In moments like these, it was easy to forget the thousands of tender touches that had come before, the whispered affections you shared in the dark. Anger had redrawn the map of his features, making him unrecognizable, and you wondered if he saw the same frightening transformation in you—if your face had become a mask that concealed the person he had fallen in love with.

“You know what?” Harry finally said, his voice quieter but no less intense. “I don’t need this right now.” He turned away from you, moving toward the counter where his keys lay.

As he passed the sink, his arm swung out with what seemed like unnecessary force, the dramatic fashion of a child not getting their way, his tantrum knocking against your precious casserole dish that was perched on the edge where you’d left it to soak, and then you caught his eye for just a fraction of a second.

And what was it that you saw?

Was it a flash of vindictive satisfaction hovering at the surface, or was it your imagination coloring the moment with your own anger?

Had he done it on purpose?

Because it all seemed to happen in the blink of an eye.

Time seemed to slow as you watched it teeter, then fall.

You felt the crash as it hit the tile floor, the loud crackle like an explosion, booming through your entire body as a lash of anger tore down your spine; the sound of the scattering pieces filled the quiet apartment as shards of ceramic exploded outward in a constellation of blue and white.

You stood there holding your breath in the aftermath, a split second of recognition as your knees went weak with despair.

“Harry! What the fuck is wrong with you!” The words tore from your throat as you dropped to your knees, shaky hands hovering over the broken pieces of your beloved dish. Maybe it was dramatic, but he knew how much you loved that dish, and here you were staring down at each fragment, each piece feeling like it represented a memory you would lose forever—all the stories it held through time, years of meals shared, now the life you were building with Harry—the meals it would never see.

Harry stood frozen, his face a mask of shock and regret. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

“Just go…” you whispered, carefully picking up a piece of the rim, the delicate blue flower now split in two. The longer he stood there, the angrier you got until you were yelling, “Just go, Harry! Since that’s what you want to do anyway—Just fucking go!”

“Babe, I’m sorry about the dish, I really am—”

“It’s not about the dish!” And this time, your voice broke, the tears finally spilling over. “It’s about you wanting to walk away instead of talking to me. It’s about you thinking I’m trying to control every detail of your fucking life when I’m just asking you to do something simple.”

Harry’s expression hardened again. “And there it is. It’s simple to you, so I should just do it your way. My feelings don’t matter.”

“That’s not what I said!”

“It’s what you meant.” He shouted, stealing the air from your lungs, your ears ringing with the silence that fell over the room.

And this was the final blow.

The last accusing blow that sliced between you, a perfect circle of hurt and misunderstanding, and you watched, gutted, as he grabbed his jacket, his movements stiff with anger, fast, like he couldn’t get away from you quicker.

“I need some air,” he spits, not meeting your eyes. “Be back later.”

The door closed behind him with a finality that made your heart sink, and there you were, abandoned, kneeling on the floor, surrounded by the broken pieces of your casserole dish as tears streamed down your face. His departure felt like a betrayal—choosing escape over resolution when things got too difficult.

It was always like this, wasn’t it? When emotions ran too high, he fled, leaving you alone to pick up the pieces while he walked free of the responsibility of working through the hard parts together.

Slowly, carefully, you began to gather the fragments, each one a sharp reminder of the words he left you with. The dish was beyond repair; you knew that. Some things, once broken, couldn’t be fixed, and now you hoped your relationship wasn’t one of them.

As you dropped the last piece into the trash can, a sob escaped your throat. You knew It was just a dish, you tried to tell yourself—Just a thing—A material thing that could be replaced, but it was your thing, the one thing that held the most meaning. And now it was gone, reduced to shards in a garbage bag, just like your perfect evening had been reduced to angry words and a slammed door.

And there you were, cleaning up the mess, cursing to yourself as you properly loaded the dishwasher. Of course, the irony of it all was not lost on you as you slammed the dishwasher door shut like Harry had slammed the apartment door, and you poured yourself another glass of wine—a large one this time—and crawled onto the couch, ready to sulk in the misery of you and Harry’s aftermath.

Alone.

And if he could be petty and walk out the door.

So could you.

One episode turned into two, and you lost track of when your wine glass emptied the first time because then you were opening another bottle, your eyes drifting to your phone periodically, checking for any messages, any sign of life, but there were none. Each passing minute twisted the knot in your stomach tighter. Where had he gone? Was he drinking at some bar, venting to strangers about you?

Or worse.

Had he found comfort in someone else’s arms? You knew that would never happen, but would he have been angry enough this time? Your heart pounded as the intrusive thoughts multiplied, each more gut-wrenching than the last. The questions circled in your mind like vultures, swooping lower with each passing hour, feeding on the fears—leaving too many questions unanswered as the hours ticked by one second at a time.

It was nearly midnight when you heard the key in the lock.

But you didn’t turn around, keeping your eyes fixed on the television screen where a contestant was having a meltdown over a collapsed soufflé. The door opened and closed softly, followed by the sound of Harry removing his shoes—placing them in exactly the right spot, you noted with amusement, listening to his quiet footfalls, each step reminding you of the lingering irritation still caught at the surface.

His footsteps were hesitant as he approached the couch, stopping just behind you. You could feel his presence, the familiar warmth of him, but you didn’t speak. Let him make the first move, you thought. Let him show you where his head is at.

“You’re watching our show,” he said finally, his voice quiet and a little rough.

You nodded, still not looking at him. “Seemed fitting.”

“Without me?” He almost whined.

And the pained tremor in his voice had you turning around, meeting his eyes for the first time since he had left. Your heart sank when you saw they were red-rimmed and tired, his curls a mess like he had been running his hands through them repeatedly—a nervous habit you’d always found endearing.

“You weren’t here,” you replied simply.

Harry winced, acknowledging the hit. “I know. I’m sorry.” Your body stiffened as he moved around the couch, cautiously sitting down beside you, leaving space, maybe too much distance, as he tried to respect the invisible boundary your tough stance was emanating.

You knew it, but you couldn’t help it.

You were still mad.

Still hurt.

Part of you wanted to maintain the cold front, your pride still stinging from the fight, but deep down, you ached for him to ignore the warning signs completely—to pull you against his warm chest, wrap you in those strong arms that have held you so many times.

You wanted him to make a move, be the one to make the first real motion toward fixing things.

But fuck, it was never easy to let go of a grudge.

And so you remained rigid.

Your cold exterior stubbornly at odds with the longing building inside you.

“I shouldn’t have left like that,” he continued, that sadness still in his eyes when you didn’t respond. “It was childish, and it didn’t solve anything.”

Coldly, you took a sip of your wine, considering him over the rim of the glass. “No, it didn’t.” And your tone was dry, already wanting him to work harder for the apology.

Harry sighed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. “I was angry, and I felt... I don’t know, attacked? But that’s not an excuse. I should have stayed…talked it out.”

“Yes, you should have.” Your voice was steady now, the tears long dried. “And you shouldn’t have broken my dish.”

“That was an accident,” Harry said quickly, giving you the most sorrowful eyes that made you want to melt. “I swear to you, I would never deliberately break something you love. I was careless, and I’m so, so sorry.”

You believed him.

You really did.

Harry wasn’t cruel, just hotheaded sometimes.

“It was special to me,” you whispered.

“I know, baby.” He reached out tentatively, not quite touching you. “I know it was. And I know it’s not just about the dish.”

You perked up at this, his answer surprising you, warming your insides up, “You do?”

Harry nodded, his expression solemn. “I had a lot of time to think while I was walking around. About why you were really upset and why I got so defensive.”

This is what you had been waiting for, you thought as you set your wine glass down on the coffee table, giving him your full attention. “And what did you come up with?”

“That you weren’t trying to control me,” he confessed. “You were trying to help...in your way. And I took it personally because...” He paused, searching for the right words. “Because sometimes I feel like I don’t measure up. Like I’m not good enough for you.”

The confession stunned you.

So bare and honest that it made your heart splinter.

How long had he been carrying this weight?

The thought that he’d been feeling inadequate while you were oblivious sent a wave of guilt crashing through you. All this time, your attempts to help had been reinforcing his deepest insecurities—a reality so far from what you had intended that it left you without words. You never wanted to be the source of his self-doubt, the reason he questioned his worth, and your throat tightened with the shame of it as you reached for him.

Because he had always been enough.

This had never been a doubt in your mind.

“Harry, that’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” He gave a sad smile. “You’re so put together, so organized. You know exactly how everything should be done. And I’m... not like that. I’m messy and forgetful and I load dishwashers wrong.”

A small laugh escaped you, then. “You do load dishwashers wrong.”

His smile grew a little, encouraged by your softening, and dammit, that sweet little dimple in his left cheek appeared, the one that always made your fucking stomach flutter. “I know. But when you point it out, sometimes it feels like you’re pointing out all the ways I’m not perfect. All the ways, I’m not what you deserve.”

“Oh, Harry, my love...” And you moved closer to him, that icy barrier between you beginning to dissolve. Your thigh pressed against his, warm and solid, sending a subtle electric hum through your body. “That’s never what I mean. Never.”

“I know that, rationally,” he said, finally reaching out to take your hand, and his thumb traced slow, gentle circles on the delicate skin of your wrist, the innocent touch awakening nerve endings you had forgotten existed after weeks of distance. “But emotions aren’t always logical, are they?”

As you squeezed his fingers, you felt the familiar calluses on his palm, slightly rugged, but these were the same hands that could fix a leaky faucet, soft in the way they could cradle your face with a heartbreaking tenderness that never left you guessing, and you couldn’t look away from his lips as you replied, your voice slightly lower than before. “No, they’re not. And I’m sorry too. I can be... particular about things. I should be more patient, more understanding that we have different ways of doing things.”

Harry brought your joined hands to his lips, pressing a warm kiss to your knuckles that lingered just a beat too long to be innocent. “I worship you,” he said gently, his eyes never leaving yours, the green darkening as his pupils bloomed. “Every part of you. And I should be more open to learning your way, especially when it comes to things that matter to you. Like vintage casserole dishes.”

The mere mention of the dish brought a fresh pang of loss to the pit of your stomach, but it was duller now, overshadowed by the heat suddenly building between you. You knew it was happening the second he said ‘Worship,’ the word sending a rush of thrill up your spine, a wave of excitement swelling through you the closer your bodies got.

And you wanted it.

Welcomed it even as that familiar ache awakened between your thighs. “It was just a thing,” you said, echoing your earlier thoughts, your voice huskier than intended. “Things can be replaced.”

“Speaking of which,” Harry said, reaching into his jacket pocket with his free hand, his movement causing his thigh to press harder against yours. “I have something to show you.”

He pulled out his phone, and you, without hesitation, shifted closer, tucking yourself against his side as he unlocked it. You had missed him, missed this, and you let your head lower to his shoulder, breathing in his scent— his cologne and something uniquely him that had always felt like home.

As he navigated through his search history, you pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his shoulder through his shirt, feeling him shiver in response, momentarily distracted his thumb hesitated over the screen for just a moment before he found what he was looking for and tilted the phone toward you.

Your heart stopped.

On the screen was an eBay listing for a casserole dish—not just any dish, but one identical to the one that now lay in pieces in your trash can and as your eyes roamed the listing, Harry pushed a kiss to the top of your head.

The listing showed it had been purchased just an hour ago.

“You bought this?” you asked, looking up at him in surprise, ready to jump his bones right here, right now, because you wanted him so fucking bad.

Harry nodded, a hopeful expression on his face that quickly shifted to something heated, more primal as your bodies connected. “It’s being shipped express. Should be here in a few days. I know it won’t have the same memories attached, but we can make new ones.”

And there it was again.

That ping.

That pulse.

That pull deep in your gut, and your body flushed at the thought of it as the heat spread across your skin like wildfire. “You spent your evening searching for a replacement?”

“Part of it,” Harry admitted, his voice dropping to that low register that always made your stomach tighten with want. “The rest I spent realizing how much I never want to miss moments with you again. Not even watching people cry over pastry.” And he nodded toward the television, where the show was still playing, forgotten in the background.

The sincerity in his voice.

His genuine regret.

And that fucking lovesick look in his eyes melted the last of your resistance.

The air between you seemed to crackle with electricity—every breath, every slight movement charged with unspoken desire. You set the phone down and moved closer to him, consciously letting your breast brush against his arm again as you pressed against his side, and his sharp intake of breath told you he felt it too.

That magnetic pull.

That desperate need to reconnect not just emotionally but physically.

“Prove it,” you said softly.

Harry blinked, his breathing growing shallow as he caught the unmistakable invitation in your tone. “Prove what?”

“Prove that you never want to miss a moment with me again.” Your hand found his thigh, fingers tracing an intentional slow path upward. “Prove that you’re sorry.”

“Tell me what you want?” His voice gravel, a tone that sent liquid heat collecting between your thighs, a shiver down your spine with want.

You leaned in, letting your chest press against him as your lips brushed his ear, teeth grazing his lobe before you whispered, “I want you to worship me.”

A low groan vibrated from deep in his chest, his entire body tensing, his hunger barely restrained as he moved without hesitation. Harry slid from the couch to his knees before you, his strong hands pushing your thighs apart, gentle but insistent, the pressure wanting, and holy fuck, the look he gave you from that position made your clit fucking throb with anticipation.

And this is what you missed; this is what you both needed.

“I do worship you,” he said, his fingers skimming up your inner thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they approached your warm center before diverting to the hem of your shirt. “Every. Fucking. Part of you.”

His words made your heart jump.

Your heart picking up when his fingers found the hem of your shirt, moving with tantalizing ease as he lifted it, exposing your stomach as his knuckles deliberately grazed your heated skin. Your nipples were already pressed hard, almost painfully, against the fabric of your bra as cool air met your exposed flesh, waking your entire body with its presence.

“I worship your strength…your strength to have to put up with my shit.” when he laughed, his hot breath fanned over your skin, and he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your quivering stomach, his tongue dipping past your navel in a way that made you gasp. “Your kindness…god baby, your fucking kindness.” he breathed, his tone weak as he pressed another kiss higher, working his mouth up your body.

Every time Harry’s mouth met your flesh, you drew your legs together, trying to dull the pulsing ache taunting you between your thighs, but Harry wouldn’t budge, and as they closed around his body this time, you felt a light pinch at your inner thigh making you buck your lower half.

And then you sucked in a sharp breath when Harry’s teeth scraped a gentle path against the underside of your rib cage. “Your passion,” he added as his hands slid around to your back, fingers splaying across your heated skin before they found your bra clasp, flicking it open with a practiced ease that reminded you of all the countless nights of pleasure because without a doubt there had been so much pleasure.

Harry’s eyes never left yours, green depths swimming with a craving, a hunger, something deeper, more profound as he removed your shirt and bra in one fluid motion, “I worship your heart,” he continued, cupping your breasts, a tender grasp as he said, “So full of love, even when I don’t deserve it.”

Greedy, you arched into his touch, your body more than ready, responding to each word that tumbled from his mouth with every caress. “Harry...” you breathed.

“Shh,” he soothed, leaning forward to take one of your nipples into his mouth, his warm tongue circling the sensitive peak. “Let me show you. Let me prove it to you.” Then Harry’s wandering hands moved to the waistband of your leggings, tugging them down with your underwear as you lifted your hips to assist him.

As the last barrier between you fell away, you found yourself naked before him in the soft glow of the living room light, and there was something sacred in this vulnerability—a heartfelt intimacy that transcended the physical. His worshipful gaze felt like kneeling at the altar to pray as you lay there naked.

With Harry, you never needed to hide—his eyes had always been your safest place, a sanctuary where every part of you was cherished without judgment. This moment of being completely bare before someone who held your heart with such care felt like the truest form of yourself that you could ever give him.

Then his hands were skimming up your calves, over your knees, along your thighs, your entire body humming with his touch. When he reached the apex of your thighs, he paused, looking up at you for permission as if he needed it, and you felt that tight flutter deep in your belly.

All you could do was nod, unable to form words as the anticipation built within you. Harry smiled, a slow, knowing curve of his lips that promised pleasure beyond measure, and you felt all the lingering tension leaving your body.

Then he lowered his head, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs, working his way inward with deliberate care, each kiss slow, but you felt the silent plea with every touch of his lips to your skin, a quiet apology, each brush of his fingers a promise of devotion.

He started gently, teasing at first, licking a slow, delicate line up your slit, a hum of satisfaction vibrating against your pussy lips, and you gazed down at him, holding your breath as you watched his calm composure falter, his need for you making him weak, his brows drawing together in pure agony.

Pain and pleasure stole his features as he stilled his movements, sucking in a harsh breath against your thigh and he squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his face into your skin. You watched him force a shaky breath from his lungs, and he pushed a hand into the crotch of his jeans, his whole demeanor shifting, physically aching from the presence of your pleasure.

“This...I worship this.” he rasped, pulling back to drive his point home, and you tried to draw your legs together as a breathy laugh slipped past his lips, and he nips your inner thigh with his teeth, making you gasp out, and you comply spreading them wide.

And like a flip of a switch, he dove in with a renewed hunger, his tongue already working, circling your clit as the other hand left your thigh, and then you felt his fingers teasing at your entrance, gathering your wetness, his finger sliding against you before slowly pressing inside.

One finger at first, curling upward with expert precision to find that spot that made your fucking toes curl.

“Oh, god—Harry!” you cried out, your hips jerking involuntarily.

“That’s it,” he bellowed against you as he added a second finger, ready to stretch you as he pumped them in and out in rhythm with his tongue. “So tight, baby—say my name. Let me hear how good I make you feel. Let me hear how much you fucking need this.”

And it’s true you fucking needed this.

You both did.

And now you wanted the release.

All at once, the dual sensation of his mouth and fingers was overwhelming, and you found yourself writhing beneath him, one hand tangled in his hair while the other gripped the couch cushion desperately, holding your breath as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable intensity, the sensation curling tighter and tighter in your lower belly.

“You’re dripping for me,” he rasped, his voice rough with want. “So fucking wet. Could drown in you and die happy.” Then his fingers twisted inside you, pressing harder against that perfect spot, his tongue flattening against your clit, firm this time, steady pressure you knew would have you coming in seconds.

“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice breaking as you felt yourself approaching the edge. “Please, Harry, right there—baby—please!”

“Wouldn’t dream of stopping,” he groaned, briefly lifting his mouth before immediately returning to your slick heat. “Want to feel you come on my tongue. Want to taste every drop you give me. Need it like I need air, baby, this is mine...”

Then you felt his fingers curl, curving inside you, hitting that exact spot with each thrust while his tongue worked your clit with unwavering focus. The combination was too much—the physical sensation coupled with his filthy words and, dammit, the sight of him between your thighs was so fucking beautiful, Harry completely devoted to your pleasure.

“I’m going to—” you moaned, your thighs beginning to shake uncontrollably as you fisted his hair, your grip tightening, pushing his face into your pussy like you could fit him inside you.

“Do it,” he commanded, his voice vibrating across your sensitive flesh. “Come for me, baby. Flood my fucking mouth.”

And then it was happening: your orgasm hitting with such staggering force that it knocked the air from your lungs, crashing through you in waves that seemed to go on forever, and you screamed out his name as your back arched off the couch, your walls convulsing around his fingers just like he wanted, and Harry moaned deeply against you, drinking in your release, his tongue gentling but never stopping as he guided you through every aftershock, every tremor of pleasure.

Harry didn’t stop until a soft whimper left your mouth, and you gently pulled away; only then did he reluctantly withdraw his mouth and he pressed his forehead against your trembling thigh, catching his breath in hot puffs against your skin as you gazed down at him, catching sight of your essence glistening on his lips and chin, a testament to your undoing.

When he lifted his eyes to meet yours, his gaze burned with more than just desire—they held a fierce, almost predatory pride in having unraveled you so completely, Harry knowing he had earned every shudder and cry his mouth had coaxed from your body.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your shaky thigh. “So fucking beautiful when you fall apart for me.”

“Come here,” you said, letting out a lazy laugh, your voice still hoarse from your orgasm as you tugged at his shoulders. “Let me kiss those shiny lips.”

Harry smiled as he rose from his knees, his movements a little stiff from the prolonged position. Of course, as he stood, you couldn’t help but stare hungrily at the prominent bulge straining against his jeans, and he moved to sit beside you on the couch, his lips a dark blush, wet with the evidence of your pleasure, his expression a mixture of adoration and raw, untamed hunger.

“I meant what I said,” he told you, brushing a strand of hair from your face with shaky fingers. “I worship you. Every part of you. And I’m so sorry for hurting you earlier.”

And even though you hear his words, you don’t respond. Instead, you grabbed his face and pulled him into a deep, aggressive kiss, gradually licking across his lips first, tasting your own arousal with a moan that made his entire body go slack.

And the groan that left his mouth spoke volumes as you climbed onto his lap, his hands gripping your waist as you straddled him, barely breaking the kiss as you continued, pressing harder, your tongue exploring every corner of his mouth, finding every hint of your essence that was left, a whole new greed filling your chest.

“You like that?” you asked, grinding slowly against his erection as you pulled back just enough to speak, your lips still brushing his. “You like when I’m filthy for you? When I lick my cum off your face?”

“Jesus Christ,” he gasped, his hips bucking involuntarily beneath you, his pupils completely blown with lust. “You’re going to fucking kill me.”

You smiled wickedly, dragging your tongue along his jaw to his ear. “You taste so good mixed with me,” you breathed, feeling him shudder beneath you. “And I believe you,” you added, your voice softening slightly as you pulled back to meet his eyes, stroking his flushed cheek. “And I forgive you. Now let me show you exactly how much.

Relief washed over his features, followed quickly by a need that seemed to rise up as you knowingly licked your lips, tasting the last glimmers of yourself. “Now,” you continued, your hand moving to the bulge in his jeans, “let me show you how much I love you too.”

Harry’s breath hitched as you palmed him through his denim jeans. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” you assured him, working at his belt buckle. “I want to taste what I do to you. I want to taste us together.”

Your words pulled a deep moan from somewhere inside him, his hips lifting of their own accord to help as you tugged his jeans and boxers down just enough to free him, his dick bounced up between you, hard and straining, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip.

You leaned down, maintaining eye contact as you licked it away, savoring the salty-sweet flavor that mingled with your own taste, still lingering on your tongue, and you watched Harry’s eyes roll back, his hands already fisting in the couch cushions.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “If you keep that up, this is going to be embarrassingly quick.”

You smiled against him, pressing a kiss to his sensitive head. “That’s okay. We have all night for round two.”

Before he could respond, you took him into your mouth, sliding down as far as you comfortably could. The sound he made—half groan, half your name—felt like one of the most erotic things you had ever heard as your head began to move.

When you finally pulled back to catch your breath, saliva dripped from your lips to his shaft as you pumped him with your hand. “You like watching me choke on this big dick?” you asked, voice rugged before you took him deep again, this time letting your throat constrict around his tip.

“Fuck!” he shouted, his thighs tensing beneath you. “I’m not gonna last if you keep that up.”

You loved this part.

This was your favorite part, watching how easy it was to make him come undone.

And you continued to work him with your mouth and hand, establishing a rhythm that had him panting and cursing above you. When his hands found your hair, it wasn’t guiding, just connecting, Harry needing to touch you as you pleasured him.

“I’m close,” he warned after only a few minutes, his voice strained. “So close, babe.”

You pulled off with a pop, looking up at him with a mischievous smile. “Not yet,” you said, climbing onto his lap and straddling him. “I want to feel you.”

Harry’s hands immediately went to your hips, steadying you as you positioned yourself above him. “Are you—”

You cut him off with a kiss, deep and passionate, as you slowly sank down onto him, taking him inch by inch until he was fully seated within you. The stretch now arousing the desperation even more, your body still sensitive from your earlier orgasm.

“I’m sure,” you whispered against his lips. “I want this. I want you.”

You began to move, setting a slow, grinding pace that had both of you moaning, and Harry’s hands roamed your body, touching everywhere he could reach, as if reassuring himself that you were really there, really his.

“I love you,” he said between kisses, the words like a prayer being answered. “I love you so much. Never want to fight with you. Never want to be apart from you.”

“I love you too,” you replied, increasing your pace as the pleasure built again. “Always, Harry. Even when we fight.”

“Fuck—you’re so big,” you moaned against his lips, your inner walls stretching to accommodate his girth. “Can feel you so deep inside me.”

“So—tight,” Harry pushed, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as you began to pick up your pace. “So fucking wet and tight around me. Like this pussy was made for me.”

And you both laughed when your eyes met his. Both of you realizing it had been way too long since you had spoken these filthy words into existence, but you needed it, both of you spurring one another on as the pleasure took hold of each of you.

You established a rhythm, rising until just the tip remained inside before slamming back down, taking him to the hilt each time. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by your shared moans and gasps, each sound breathing life back into the space.

“That’s it,” Harry urged, his voice strained as he thrust up to meet your downward movements. “Ride that dick. Show me how much you fucking need it.”

And dammit, what had Harry said? you needed it like you needed the air in your lungs, the blood flowing through your veins, the fucking heart pumping in your chest that could only beat for him.

In this moment.

Always.

You needed him.

Forever.

The tension between you had transformed completely, the anger of earlier replaced by a desperate, all-consuming love. Each movement, each touch, each whispered endearment was a reaffirmation of your bond, stronger now for having been tested.

You felt hunger drive from within as you increased your pace, grinding your clit against his pelvis with each downstroke. “So deep,” you gasped, throwing your head back as he hit that spot inside you. “God—Harry—you’re so fucking deep.”

His hands moved from your hips to your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples as you bounced on his lap. “Look at you,” he groaned, eyes dark with need, with purpose as they raked over your body. “Taking me like this. Fucking goddess.”

The pleasure was building, charged with a thrilling energy that had you both sloppy for more as your second orgasm loomed even faster than the first. Harry could tell—he always could—and he slipped one hand between your bodies to circle your clit.

“Want you to come on this dick?” he forced, his voice a rough growl that sent shivers down your spine. “Going to squeeze me so tight I can’t hold back?”

“Harry—” you moaned, each movement becoming erratic as you chased your release. “Make me come, Harry. Need to come with you inside me.”

“The way you take me so deep... fucking incredible.” he praised, thumb stroking your clit in circles, moving in sync with your movements.

“Come with me,” he urged, his voice tight with the effort of holding back. “Want to feel you come around me.”

The added stimulation was all you needed, and you felt your second orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, less intense but somehow deeper than the first, and you moaned out Harry’s name as your inner walls clenched around him, pulling him over the edge with you.

Fuck.

It was so good.

This was so good.

And then he was burying his face in your neck as he came, his arms wrapping around you so tight that it was hard to tell where you ended and he began as a swell of longing flooded your body, and you held him just as fiercely, riding out the waves of pleasure together until you both collapsed, spent and satisfied.

For a long moment, you stayed like that, connected in the most intimate way, hearts beating against each other as your breathing slowly returned to normal, and Harry pressed soft kisses to your shoulder, your neck, your jaw, before finally finding your lips in a tender, loving kiss.

“I really am sorry,” he murmured against your mouth. “About the fight, about the dish, about leaving.”

You stroked his hair, smiling softly. “I know. And I’m sorry, too, for being so rigid sometimes. Maybe we can work on it together?”

Harry nodded; his eyes were serious despite the blissful aftermath you guys found yourselves in. “We will. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you the seller is including the matching serving platter too.”

A laugh bubbled up from your chest, pure joy replacing the last vestiges of hurt. “You found the matching platter? Those are even rarer than the casserole dish!”

“Only the best for you,” Harry said, his smile mirroring yours. “I told you, I worship you. Every part of you, including your love for vintage dishware.”

You kissed him again, pouring all your love into it. “And I worship you, Harry. Even when you load the dishwasher wrong.”

When his laughter joined yours, filling the apartment with the sound of happiness restored. The broken dish was forgotten, replaced by the promise of new memories to be made, new moments to be shared, and a love that was stronger for having weathered its first real storm.

As you curled against him, content and complete, you knew that this—this imperfect, sometimes messy, always passionate love—was the most precious thing you would ever possess. And unlike a casserole dish, it couldn’t be broken by a careless moment or a heated argument. It could only grow stronger, more beautiful, with each challenge overcome together.

Taglist: @sassamanda77 @panini @unfuckwitablenarry @triski73

@haleyannaw @dipmeinhoneyh @lizsogolden

Taglist Open<-

My Tiny Materlist<-

Talk to me<-

[harrywavycurly]

Worth The Fight: If I Was A Worm?

Masterlist: Here

CW: Pregnancy stuff, one emotional moment, jealous Harry and a touch of panic.

A/N: Y’all have been wanting protective Harry and I am trying to deliver so I hope y’all enjoy and sorry for the dramatics right off the bat but hormones will do that to you lol✨

Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden @gmikaelson @styleswithaseaview @sofaritsalrightt @babegoals @fangirl509east @one-sweet-gubler @stylesftcher @umadirectioner @last-saturday-night @montgomery-929496 @laughterismytherapy @hisparentsgallerryy @jerseygirlinca @behindmygreyeyes @mads3502 @tpwkdpr @unfuckwitablenarry @itscoucouharry @latedirectionerera @ell0ra-br3kk3r @cumuluscranium @donutsandpalmtrees @silastylesswift @prettygurl-2009 @blueleonor @daphnesutton @angeldavis777 @harryssunflower17 @blckburd @tinawritesstuff @inlikea-coolway @mothersversiononly

Summary: You are officially on maternity leave and finally get to meet Gemma and have a baby shower✨

“Would you still want to be with me if I was a worm?” You ask far too casually from your spot in the middle of Harry’s at home gym where you’re sitting on your bright purple pregnancy ball, gently rotating your hips in a circular motion while holding a magazine in one hand and your bottle of water in the other.

Harry doesn’t even blink twice at your random question since this is now the fourth one you’ve tossed at him in the span of ten minutes, he just shakes his head and chuckles to himself as he begins the cool down part of his run on the treadmill that’s a few feet from where you’re supposedly working out. It’s only week one of your maternity leave and you’re already missing the routine of having somewhere to be everyday but Harry insisted you take advantage of the time the library offered so you could get as much relaxation and rest possible before the twins arrive. So that’s how you wound up down here in his gym, having gotten bored in the living room after not being able to get comfortable on his couch without him there to rub your ankles.

For his own peace of mind he refused to think about you walking down the steps without his help when you suddenly appeared in front of him when he was lifting weights. But his anxieties were quickly forgotten when you plopped down on the bright purple ball and began rolling around on it a bit, your maternity bike shorts and an oversized t shirt only accentuating your very prominent baby bump making him nearly drop the weight in his hands at how effortlessly adorable you looked, letting him know he should move to the treadmill before he accidentally hurt himself while staring at you.

You bring the straw of your water bottle up to your lips as you look over at Harry who has a look on his face as if he’s deep in thought. Then suddenly his eyes shift and lock with yours making a smile creep onto his face when he sees your cheeks get pink when he catches you staring at him.

“Have you always been a worm or did I come home one day and you were suddenly a worm?” He asks as his pace on the treadmill begins to slow down. You look away from him and down at the magazine in your hand to check if the question has any more details to it other than what you asked him already.

“It doesn’t say but let’s just go with you came home one day and I was a worm.” You explain after slipping the straw out of your mouth. “Would you still want to be with me?”

“No.”

“Really?” Your brows furrow as you stare at him making him just shrug as he finishes up on the treadmill. “You-you didn’t even hesitate you just said-said no.” You don’t even feel the magazine fall from your hand as your eyes begin to sting. Harry is by your side before you can even begin to blink the tears away, bent down so he can place a hand on your knee rubbing the top of it with his thumb in soothing circles.

“Baby you’d be a worm.” He says softly as you turn your head so you’re not looking at him.

“So? I’d-I’d be your worm.” You mumble as you swallow down the lump forming in your throat, feeling a mixture of anger at how silly you feel for being upset over something like this but also feeling hurt at how quickly Harry answered with a solid no.

“Would you want me to keep you in a jar or something and just take you everywhere with me then? Would that make you happy?” He asks as his free hand reaches out and grabs your water bottle from you so he can place it on the floor behind him.

“Yes.” You answer with a sniffle and a nod as you turn your head so you can look at him. Harry feels his heart ache at the tears welling up in your eyes and the way your bottom lip is trembling with how hard you’re fighting back the tears that so badly want to begin rolling down your cheeks.

“Okay love.” You feel yourself lean into his touch when he brings his hands up to softly cup your face. “I’ll put you in an empty jar of that raspberry jam you love so much and carry you around with me everywhere how does that sound?”

“Gross.” You say with a watery laugh making Harry smile as his thumbs run up and down your cheekbones. “You’d have a worm in a jar-someone would end up throwing me away.” Harry just shakes his head no making you roll your eyes casing a few tears to spill over your waterline and slide down your face.

“I’d kill them before I let them throw my worm-or excuse me sorry I meant I’d kill them before I let them throw my girlfriend away.”

“That’s not very treat people with kindness of you.”

“What else am I supposed to do to someone who tries to toss my girl out with the trash?”

“I’d be a worm not your girlfriend.”

“So are you saying if you were a worm you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore?” Harry knows exactly what he’s doing by asking you this, making you tell him the same thing that he said to cause you to get upset in the first place. Oddly enough it’s something he’s learned helps you move on from an upset like this and he knows it’s working when he feels you shake your head while his hands still gently hold onto your face.

“No.” You barely get the word out before a few more tears spill over and stream down your face. Harry just gives you a soft smile as you look at him with a worried expression and he knows you think you just hurt his feelings so he quickly pulls your face towards his so he can place a kiss to your lips.

“I understand why you wouldn’t want to be with me it’s okay.” He says as when he pulls away in hopes it’ll help you feel better but when you just let out a small sniffle and place your hands over his that are on your face he pinches his brows together as he stares into your eyes.

“What’s wron-”

“I don’t want to be a worm.” You practically sob as your eyes close and your chest rises and falls at a quickened pace and Harry wants so badly to grab the magazine that’s on the floor near your feet and rip it to shreds for being the cause of this breakdown thanks to the relationship test where you got all your questions from printed in the back of it.

“Okay how about just being my adorable girlfriend who seems like she’s in need of some foot rubs on the couch-”

“The bed.”

“Okay foot rubs in bed and maybe a movie? How does that sound love?”

“Good.” You answer as Harry’s thumbs gently wipe the last remaining tears from under your eyes. “Sounds good.”

“Good.” Harry smiles as you drop your hands and place them on top of your bump. “How are they treating you today? Moving around a lot?” You look down as you feel Harry’s hand sliding under the hem of your t shirt so he can place his hands on the side of your belly making you let out a small sigh at how good the warmth of his hands feel through the thin material of your bike shorts.

“Nora is practicing her dancing while Edward is keeping to himself.” You answer with a small sniffle letting Harry know you’re calming down a bit, he looks up at you with a quirked brow as his hands slide to the front of your bump.

“And how do you know it’s Nora dancing around and not Edward?”

“I can’t explain it. I just know.” Harry smiles and nods at your answer as he moves his hands around your bump. “She’s right here.” You tell him as you move your shirt up so you can grab one of his hands and place it where you feel the most movement happening.

“Hello my little love.” You smile as Harry leans in so his face is a few inches from his hand that’s resting on your bump, his voice causing the movements to increase right under his hand making him chuckle. “Can you do daddy a favor and maybe take a little break from the dance lessons?” You cover your mouth with one hand to muffle the sound of your laugh as Harry talks to your bump, his other hand sliding around until he feels a very small kick letting him know where the other twin is.

“You know your voice only makes them wilder.” Harry ignores your comment and leans in closer so he can place a kiss to the middle of your bump.

“I can’t help that my voice is exciting.”

“Exciting? You really are a narcissist.”

“Ignore her my loves your mommy is just in a bit of a mood right now.” You roll your eyes as he gives your bump a little rub with both hands as he looks up at you with a playful smirk on his face. “We love you and can’t wait to meet you.”

“But we aren’t in a rush. Stay in there as long as you like.” You quickly add making Harry chuckle as he gives your belly one last kiss before standing up and holding his hands out for you.

“Come on my darling let’s see how long it takes you to get upstairs.” His voice is soft but with a teasing edge to it that makes you let out a huff as you grab his hands so he can help you up off your pregnancy ball.

“You can’t rush me with the stairs Harry it’s rude because you know I can’t see my feet and I’m trying not to fall and you’re over there timing me like I’m training for a marathon or something.”

“As if I’d ever let you fall.”

“Oh when does Gem get here?” You ask not trying to intentionally changing the subject but you just remembered your baby shower that she’s hosting for you is in a few days and if you don’t ask your questions now you’ll forget and then feel overwhelmed when she just shows up on Harry’s front door.

“Tomorrow afternoon.” He answers with a smile as he places a hand on your lower back while standing behind you as you begin your slow trek up the stairs. “She’s very excited to meet you and of course her and my mom plan on obsessing over you so just be prepared for a lot of fussing about your comfort and-”

“I’m already used to being fussed over so that’s fine.” He doesn’t miss the tease in your voice making him smile because he won’t even try to deny it, he has been fussing over you ever since you allowed him back in your apartment and now that you two are officially an item ever since he took you on your first date two weeks ago he has just upped his obsessing over your comfort and safety but you don’t seem to mind or at least if you do you don’t say anything to him about it.

“Yeah Paris does seem to a bit clingy with you. He was on top of your legs yesterday during your pre dinner nap and he nearly chewed my hand off when all I was trying to do was adjust your blanket.”

“Right Paris is clingy.”

“Quite the momma’s boy that one.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Touché.”

You can’t stop laughing as you watch Gemma smack her younger brother upside the head in the middle of his kitchen after making a rude comment about your choice of tea that you still drink on occasion when your tummy is upset. She arrived earlier than Harry had expected but only by a few hours and for a moment he felt utterly and truly complete as he stood by and let his sister full on bear hug you as his mother rushed off to his backyard after saying hello, wanting to check on a few things for the baby shower that’s being held back there the following day.

But as soon as Harry mentioned making lunch and helped you take a seat at his kitchen table you and Gemma seemed to be on the same page when it came to getting a kick out of picking on him, making him realize that eventually his own daughter will probably be joining in on their teasing but that makes him hope that his son will be on his side because he will go positively mental if it turns out to be four against one anytime their aunt Gem is in town.

“You can’t call your girlfriend and mother of your children’s tea preference disgusting Harry that’s rude.” He rolls his eyes as he takes a step away from his sister so she can no longer reach him from where she’s standing cutting up some fruit. “Besides you’re the reason she needs peppermint tea in the first place you knob.” Harry just turns and sends her a glare that she doesn’t even bother looking up from the cutting board to acknowledge making you laugh even harder.

“What does that even mean? How am I the-”

“You’re the one who got her pregnant.” Anne says as she walks into the kitchen with some fresh herbs she clipped from the small garden tucked away in the corner of his backyard. Harry feels his cheeks get hot as his mother casually brings up the fact he got you pregnant and that’s the reason you need peppermint tea with honey every now and then.

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Talk about what? How you couldn’t even wait to get her home so you had to go at it in the bathroom of some-”

“Gem honey please don’t talk about your brother’s bathroom romps while making lunch.”

“You’re right it’s more of a dinner conversation.”

“Mom make her stop.” Harry whines as he looks towards his mother for some assistance but she just laughs and gives him a shrug as she grabs a plastic bag to put the herbs in, you can’t help but smile as you watch the three of them interact, enjoying how they tease each other but underneath it all you can still feel the love they have for one another.

“I see you haven’t grown out of the having to ask mommy to come save you phase? I thought surely that would come to an end when you hit thirty.”

“You’re never too old to need your mom to come save you.” Anne says in Harry’s defense making Gemma roll her eyes as she looks up from the cutting board and over at her brother who has a smug smile on his face as he drapes an arm over his mother’s shoulders.

“You’re just mad that she’s still upset over you breaking her lemon colored tea set.”

“Lemon colored tea-you mean the one that disappeared ages ago?” Gemma’s eyes narrow as Anne looks at her with a raised brow. “Gem you broke that? It was a gift from your Nan.”

“Oops I forgot she didn’t know.” Harry’s voice is dripping in sarcasm as he brings a hand up to playfully cover his mouth. “Sorry.” He adds with a shrug while Gemma’s grip on the knife she’s using to cut the fruit tightens.

“How much do you fancy my brother? Like really?” She asks as she turns her head to look at you. “I think you could live without him right? You’d be fine?” You let out a laugh as Harry glares at her while Anne just walks off towards the pantry to grab some honey for the tea Harry was in the middle of making for you before this little argument started.

“Oh that’s enough.” Anne states as she holds out the jar of honey for Harry to take. “Finish making her tea before it gets cold.” With that Harry grabs the jar and goes back to making you a cup of tea to help soothe your tummy a bit before lunch.

“Harry!” Your voice shouting his name has Harry tossing his phone onto the couch as he rushes towards the stairs, taking them two at time he is upstairs and in his bedroom in record time.

“Baby are-”

“Oh god.” Your voice is strained as you let out a groan that has Harry’s heart about to beat out of his chest as he quickly walks into his bathroom.

The scene in front of him isn’t one he was at all mentally preparing for, you’re standing in the middle of the large bathroom with the dress you found after spending days sorting through wracks of maternity clothes only half way up your body so you’re top half is just covered by your bra and of course you have your handheld fan that’s been your bestfriend as of late due to your hot flashes mixed with the warmer weather, blowing cool air on you as you use one hand to lift your hair up so you can fan under your neck.

“Sweetheart are-are you okay?” He asks as he tries to calm down his racing heart having been sure your cry for him was due to something much more distressing than whatever this situation is.

“It doesn’t fit.” You say as you reach down and grab at the material of your dress. “I-I don’t know what happened Harry but it-it doesn’t fit. I can’t zip it.” The way your voice cracks lets him know he doesn’t have long to remedy this situation before you’re in full on hysterics, something he has only seen happen once and doesn’t ever want to have to witness again.

“Let me try.” You don’t argue instead you just turn around so your back is facing him. He takes a few steps towards you so he can begin lifting the straps of the dress up your shoulder as you move the fan so it’s blowing under the skirt of the dress making him chuckle.

“Don’t laugh at me.” You warn as he looks over your shoulder to find you glaring at him in the reflection of the mirror that’s in front of you.

“Laugh at you? Wouldn’t dream of it love.” He watches you roll your eyes at him before he goes back to the task at hand, getting you in this dress even if he has to call for his mother to come sew in a new zipper and let a few inches out of the waist.

“Did you see the gift Niall sent?” You ask as you move the fan so it’s blowing on your neck, Harry has to fight off the urge to roll his eyes at your casual mention of Niall while he is standing in his bathroom with you only half dressed.

“You mean the gift his lovely mom sent? Yes I saw it.”

“No the knitted blankets are just from Maura I’m talking about the stroll-”

“Niall Horan did not buy us a stroller.”

“You’re right he didn’t buy us a stroller.” Harry pauses his movements so he can look at you through the mirror as you try to hold back a smile. “Technically he bought me a stroller since the card only had my name on it.”

“I’m sorry can we rewind for a moment? When did you get on a first name basis with Niall’s mom and I thought Mitch and Sarah got us the stroller?”

“Since he FaceTimed her while over for dinner one night and introduced us and she doesn’t have any babies to spoil since Theo is-”

“You-you had dinner with Niall? When was this?”

“A week or so ago? I can’t remember.” Harry has to take a deep breath and run a hand through his hair as he tries to process all the information you just dropped on him in a very short amount of time. “Mitch and Sarah got us the baby swings.” You add as you put the fan on its highest setting and hold it up so it’s blowing on Harry once you see his cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

“So-so dinner with Niall a week ago and now you and Maura are friends and she’s knitting the twins blankets and Niall got you a stroller?”

“Yes but it’s the one that the twins can just go one on top of the other not the giant side by side one. Isn’t that so sweet of him? He didn’t even know that’s the one I was looking at getting.”

“Oh perfect he got you the one you wanted without you even having to tell him. He’s trying to steal you from me you know that right? And you’re over here talking about how sweet it is.”

“Harry.” Your voice is gentle as you turn the fan off before letting it gently drop to the floor, you turn around so you’re facing him, your dress still unzipped. “Don’t be jealous of Niall okay? You’re the one I’m dating right? So clearly it’s you I want to be with.”

“That’s because Niall and Zayn aren’t avaible.” He huffs as he crosses his arms over his chest making you roll your eyes.

“True they both are spoken for but-”

“Don’t do that.” His voice is only mildly serious as he glares at you as you bring your hands up cup his cheeks, pulling him down towards you just a little.

“Don’t do what?”

“Try to distract me from being jealous of your obscene love for the Irish guy I used to be in a band with.”

“He’s your bestfriend.”

“That’s what you want to bring up? His title? Not the fact you’re in love with him?”

“I am not in love with him.” Harry lets out a scoff as you place a kiss to his cheek. “I love him the same way I love Ethan.”

“Oh yeah right I’ve seen how you drool over Niall and I’ve never seen you do that over Ethan.”

“You weren’t there the first time I met Ethan and well yeah Niall is-well he’s extremely handsome I mean those eyes? I don’t know how you lasted so many years in a band with him. But even you agree with me about how good looking he is.”

“Are you doing this to torture me?” He asks as his hands fall to your hips. “Is it because I accidentally stole the covers in bed last night and ate your last bar of chocolate? If so then I’m so sorry it won’t happen again.” You let out a chuckle as he rests his forehead on yours as he apologizes for things you don’t even care about.

“You know the first time I saw you I spilled my drink all over the bar because I was too caught up in how good you looked in the glow of those horrible pink and yellow lights.” You admit as your hands slide down to his shoulders so you can give them a nice squeeze. “I’d never seen someone look so effortlessly sexy but also still sort of smugly boyish in a way that made you seem even more unattainable because you just looked so in your element surrounded by people and loud music.”

“You really do spend too much time around books.” You ignore his comment as he lifts his head so he can look you in your eyes and when you see his lips curl up into his signature smirk you feel your cheeks get hot. “No one talks like that.” He teases as he leans in so his lips are only a few inches from yours.

“Sorry I know how flustered you get when I use such big words.”

“Very flustered indeed.” Before you can say anything else his lips are on yours as his hands that are on your hips move down so they can get a nice feel of your bottom making your hands grip his shirt pulling him closer to you. When his hands firmly grab your backside and you tilt your head allowing him to deepen the kiss he knows he needs to pull away before things take a turn towards a territory neither of you have explored before and now isn’t exactly the time to do so. He also knows people are due to be arriving soon, including his mother and sister to help finish setting up for the baby shower that starts in just an hour.

“Done being jealous now?” You ask after Harry reluctantly pulls away with a groan as he closes his eyes and rests his forehead on your shoulder.

“Yes.” He says with a huff as your hands gives his chest a few pats.

“Good now can you please finish helping me zip this dress before I freak out?”

“Of course love.” You give him a smile when he lifts his head and brings his hands back up to your hips giving them a soft squeeze before you drop your arms to your sides so you can turn around allowing him full access to the back of your dress. With one not so gentle tug and a few curse words mumbled under your breath he successfully has you zipped up.

“You look beautiful.” He says with a grin on his face once you turn around and take a step back to allow him to get a better view of you. The pink and light blue floral dress hits right above your knees and the skirt flares out just the slightest and the straps are thick enough you can wear your new favorite bra that had Harry in a mild panic when you started crying after trying it on, saying something about how comfortable and supportive it is.

“Thank you.” You can’t help but blush as you feel his eyes roam over your figure. “Now you need to get dressed. I’m going to go find Paris.” Harry just nods as you head into the bedroom, stopping next to him and giving him a smile as you look up at him.

“I think I heard him in Nora’s room.” Harry tells you as he leans down to place a quick but still sweet kiss to your lips. “Don’t go downstairs without me please.”

“Okay.” Harry smiles when you don’t try to fight with him and he has to stop himself from pulling you in for another kiss when you take a step away from him but he knows he has things to do so he lets you walk out of the bathroom and when he hears the bedroom door close he knows you’re now headed to find your furry orange son. The one you begged Harry to let you bring with you whenever you come to stay with him for more than a night because Paris gets lonely and stressed when he’s without you for too long and honestly Harry said okay because he understood, that being exactly how he feels when you’re out of his sight for too long.

Harry’s eyes find yours from across the backyard, a slow smile working its way across your features when he shoots you a playful wink. He watches as your eyes roam the backyard taking in all the little details, Gemma and his mom having gone for a tea party theme for the baby shower left no corner undecorated and no table without a bouquet that instead of a vase is an old tea tin with a variety of different ones scattered on nearly ever flat surface they could find but they made sure the one closest to your designated seat is of course a peppermint tea tin with yellow honey colored flowers sprouting out of it. He can tell that you’re happy by the little crinkles the corner of your eyes get as you laugh at something his sister said, how your cheeks have stayed a little flushed since the start of the party but the thing that sticks out the most to Harry that shows how truly happy you are is the way you keep catching him staring and instead of making a silly face you just smile at him. It’s a smile that reaches your eyes and tells him something you know only he can decipher like it’s a secret code, and that something happens to be a three worded confession that neither of you are quite brave enough to say out loud yet.

“You’ve got it bad dude.” Mitch’s voice takes Harry out of his thoughts and back in the moment.

“What are you talking about?” He asks playing innocent because he knows exactly what his friend is talking about. Mitch just rolls his eyes and brings a hand up to give Harry a solid pat to his back.

“Nothing.” He says with a shake of his head. “Congratulations though on the whole dad thing. It’s a wild ride with just one so I can’t imagine what you’re in for with two.” He adds making Harry chuckle as he brings his drink up to his lips.

“I’m ready for it.”

“Yeah? You got the car seats installed and everything huh?”

“I do yeah.” Harry answers as his eyes once again land on you as you take a sip of your water that’s in a very fancy glass with lemons floating around in it. “You know she fought with me about wanting car seats in every car? Said we should only use one car with the twins and she tried to tell me it should be her beat up little thing named Melanie.”

“Melanie? That’s her car’s name?”

“Yes she’s had it since-”

“Wait how many cars did you put car seats in?” Mitch asks with a raised brow that Harry doesn’t see because he’s still just staring at you as you talk to Gemma and one of your friends from work.

“Uh five I think?”

“You have five cars with car seats in them? Jesus Harry that’s a bit-”

“It’s how many cars I own. So actually if you include her car it’s six.”

“You’re insane.”

“That’s what she said.” This makes Mitch laugh as he takes a sip of his drink and lets a silence fall over them but after a few minutes when Mitch looks over at Harry and sees he has a zoned out look in his eyes and a lopsided grin on his face, Mitch knows the exact feeling his friend is experiencing.

“You love her huh?”

“Yeah-yeah I think I do.”

[gurugirl]

The Babysitter - Again | dad!harry x babysitter!reader

Part 2 of THIS

Summary: Harry and the babysitter do it again.

A/n: Requested!

Word Count: 2,537

Warning: smut, cheating, inappropriate relationship/power imbalance, etc.

. . .

While Harry fantasized about fooling around with the babysitter more often than not, he didn’t believe he’d get another opportunity. His wife didn’t leave for work trips like she had the one evening. In fact, she was usually always home by the time Harry got home after work, and the cute babysitter was already long gone.

He did see her that morning, though. And what a surprise it was too. She arrived early, before Harry had rushed out the door to head off for the day. He heard her voice just as he was fixing up his tie, stopping the task midway to peek into the living room.

Holy shit… he muttered under his breath as he let his eyes slink over her long legs and the little shorts that hugged her ass just so. She was adorable, as always, but it’d been a bit since he’d seen her in person and immediately his mind worked its way through some very filthy thoughts about what he had done with her that night.

She laughed and turned toward the tall archway where he stood in the hall and smiled at him. He wasn’t one to get flustered but damn if the babysitter didn’t do it for him. She always had, but especially now, knowing what they’d done. Knowing what her body looked like under her little outfits, the kinds of noises she made, how good she felt around him, and how wet she got for him.

He blinked and turned back, face flushed hot from the salacious memory. Something he’d been reimagining over and over again since that fateful night.

Harry palmed at his crotch to tame the growing lump underneath and he sighed before grabbing his briefcase and car keys.

With a quick check of his hair in the mirror he stepped into the living room where Y/n was sitting on the couch with her left leg crossed over her right as his wife went to get their kid.

“Hi. You’re here early,” he looked her over again as she lifted her gaze to his and stood up.

“Yeah. Woke up early and figured I’d get a head start. Here,” she stepped in closer and took his tie, fixing the bit he’d forgotten about when he realized she was there. She kept her hands on the knot and looked up at him. There it was again. That doe-eyed fuck me look that had him plumping in his pants.

She released the tie and moved back as she looked behind Harry toward the hallway and back up at him, “How’ve you been?”

He nodded, “Alright. And you?”

She shrugged, “Okay.”

“Just okay?”

She offered a small smile and nodded, “Just okay.”

Harry didn’t know if she was trying to tell him something or not. Maybe it was school that was difficult or boyfriend issues – he didn’t think she had a boyfriend but he’d never asked either.

“Anything I can help with?” Now he was speaking low and quiet, curious what she might say.

“Mmm…” she pursed her lips to the side and shrugged again, “Probably.”

He knew exactly what she meant when she looked back up at him through her lashes and bit her lip. Goddamn, he could get into so much trouble.

Harry clenched his jaw and looked behind himself and with the coast still clear he reached for her fingers and whispered, “Would love to help. I just don’t know when I could ever do it again, Y/n.”

She nodded, “I know. I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Y/n!”

Harry watched his boy run toward the babysitter and break the spell. Which was for the better. He didn’t need to be fucking around like that. What he’d done with her was a one-time thing. As much as he’d love more of her, that just wasn’t in the cards for them.

.                 .                 .

It was 1 o’clock when he got the text from his wife. She’d gotten off work early and was already home. Which meant she’d relieved Y/n. And she was at her dorm apartment with nothing to do. Perhaps even alone.

Harry gulped down the saliva that had pooled on his tongue just imagining what he could get up to with Y/n. But he had a pile of work to do. There was no way he could leave the office and still get his project ready by Friday.

It was such a bad idea to even be thinking about it. Yet there he was sliding his files into his briefcase and making the decision to finish some work at home later that night. He’d definitely lost his mind as he sent a text to Y/n asking her if she was home. And her nearly immediate response – Yes. Alone – had him rushing right out the door and jogging to his car to travel across town to Y/n’s apartment.

He wasn’t really even thinking. Not with a rational mind. If anyone saw him coming or going that might be bad. Though, he imagined no one would know who he was anyway. He was just a regular schmo after all. Who would be the wiser?

Y/n met him in the foyer and pulled at his hand before pushing a door open that led to a stairwell. She was only up one floor. Her small dorm was a one-room apartment with a separate bathroom attached.

She turned to face him when he closed the door behind himself, “My roommate has two more classes before she’s done for the day. My only class today is at 7 so…”

Harry grinned and stepped in, placing his meaty hands on her arms and bringing her closer, “So that means we have a little bit of time. And you need my help with something, don’t you?”

She puffed out a laugh with a nod, “I mean if you want. I know…” She sighed and blinked her eyes, he could tell she was nervous, “This is wrong, but… it’s just…”

“It’s just so good, though, isn’t it?”

She nodded again, teeth digging into her bottom lip. Fuck she was cute.

Y/n didn’t need any cues. She lowered her sight to the belt he had on and began to unbuckle him with deft fingers before she undid the button on his pants and pulled at the zipper.

He helped her push his pants down as she lowered to her knees and took her palm over his crotch, softly rubbing upward over his underwear.

“You get so hard… and so big…” She peeled his briefs down slowly once his cock was at full mast and the moment the fabric was pushed under his balls she wrapped her fingers around his rigid shaft and placed soft kisses along the thick vein underneath, licking over his tip and placing him in her mouth.

He put a palm at the back of her head as he watched her suckle around his crown and then pull him deeper into her mouth, tongue swirling and sucking as she looked up at him.

“Baby doll… fuck…”

Harry was so worked up. The last person he’d had sex with was Y/n and now here she was again with her pretty lips stretched around his length, tugging at his base with everything she had in her. She wanted to make him feel good and she was eager. It was no wonder he was so anxious to get to her apartment and flaked out on work. Flake out on his wife. If this was his reward, he’d continue doing it every fucking chance he got (which he knew would be rare).

Soon he had her on her bed completely naked and spread out with his mouth on her cunt. He didn’t even remember the last time his wife let him lick her pussy. His sex life had grown so dry. Hardly a smidgeon of foreplay before they were both rolling over and falling asleep.

But Y/n was moaning and pulling his hair, smearing her juices all over his face as she writhed and quivered from his fingers gliding against her front wall and his lips suctioning to her clit. Honestly? She was a breath of fresh air. Another person who liked sex as much as he did. Harry thought he had been doomed to a life with boring and barely palatable sex (that was when he could get it). Y/n could be the answer to that problem.

He loved the noises she made when she came. She was just loud enough that anyone walking by her door could hear her, but not so loud that everyone in the hallway would know what was happening in that room.

Harry’s cock was so hard as he let go of her thigh and sat up, reaching a hand up her body to smooth his thumb over her nipple, wiping her arousal all around it.

She was breathing heavily, a small, cute smile on her face as she looked at him and kept her legs parted before saying the hottest thing he’d ever heard, “You can have me now.”

Her wet pussy was a decadent treat just for him. Sliding himself right in she inhaled through puckered lips at the stretch and he groaned from relief. And once again he gave it to her bare. No condom. He was insane, he was sure. He’d pull out before he could come, just like the first time, but he was obsessed with how she felt around him, all squishy and warm and soaking wet.

Her bed was cheap with a metal frame and Harry was a big man with a lot of endurance and pent-up desire. He was a man who was getting his cock wet by a girl who wanted it and he was not going to worry about how quiet he was. In fact, the bouncing springs, and frame slapping into the wall only heightened the experience for him. He not only loved the way sex felt and smelled and looked, but he also loved how everything sounded. The way her cunt gushed wetly every time he plowed in, her little squeaks and moans, skin patting together when his hips met hers, and the screeching and bouncing bed they were doing it on were all music to his ears.

“Oh god!” She cried when he ground in, swiveling his hips, buried into the hilt, slushy wetness seeping down to her ass.

“Mmm… fuck, Y/n…” Harry was in heaven as he fucked into her. His balls were squeezing and his cock was throbbing. Perhaps a condom would’ve been a wise decision, especially if it meant he could hold out longer. But he hated the thought of not getting to feel her as nature intended.

He smeared his lips against hers and she rolled up into him, moaning into his mouth. He was sure he was driving deep in her guts, stuffed up into her tummy every time he bottomed out. She keened and cooed and quivered under him.

His chest was pressed against hers and he felt her nails scrape into his lats as his glutes flexed with every thrust. They were pasted together, the only bits moving were their lips and tongues and Harry’s thighs as he worked his girthy dick into her, dragging through her tight walls.

Rocking down hard into her, he wanted to make sure her clit had enough friction. His chest was sweating and his insides were boiling. He was so close to his end.

But then he felt her squeezing in pulses and then clamp down, her mouth dropped open and she halted her kisses as she began to moan loudly, “Mmm… coming… want your come. Come inside of me…”

Harry closed his eyes and tried to ignore the way his inner demon told him to fuck it and give her what she wanted. Fill her up with his come and push it deep into her tummy. He was already playing with fire.

Gritting his teeth he endured the way her cunt was siphoning around him, pulling and fluttering… she felt so good on his cock. Nothing had felt so good in a long time.

And the moment his balls began to constrict with that tell-tell throb and pinch he pulled out with a filthy groan and wrapped his big hand around himself to spurt his come over her pussy, a few ropes coated her clit. But then Y/n scrambled to sit up and she practically dove forward with her mouth wide open, tongue jutted out, and sucked him into her mouth. She placed her hands on his hips and drank him down, moaning around him and sliding her lips down his shaft as far as she could take him.

“Fuck! Oh, fuck me!” Harry rasped out in a deep voice as he placed both palms on her head and rutted inward to let her suck him dry.

When Y/n could tell he’d calmed and he let go of her head she pulled off of him, strings of saliva and come connecting her lips and his cock. It was dirty.

She blinked her bleary eyes up at him, “Why didn’t you come inside of me?”

Harry pulled at her and brought them down to lie on their sides facing one another, “Because that seems a little reckless. Don’t you think?”

She sighed and drew a finger over his swallow tattoos, “I’m on birth control. And… I’ve only had sex with one guy and that was like a year and a half ago. I mean…” she looked up at him with innocent rounded eyes, “I know it’s bad I just wanted to let you do it. Maybe feel it later while I’m in class.”

Harry’s brows shot up at all of this new info.

Looking into her eyes he wrapped his hand around the front of her throat and pressed his mouth to hers. She was gonna be trouble if she was talking like that. Those words… that was every straight man’s fantasy right there.

He parted from the kiss and she gasped as if he’d just given her the headiest kiss she’d ever tasted, “Baby… fuck…” he shook his head and sat up, “That’s… alright. Next time we’ll talk about me filling you up. Preferably before you start to come. Okay?”

She watched him dress himself as she lay in her bed still naked, “So you want a next time?”

Harry let out an incredulous laugh, “I hope there’s a next time. Can’t promise anything. Kind of hard to find moments like these.”

She nodded, his trousers pulled up as he buttoned himself in. Chest still bare and broad and strong.

He grinned when he noticed she was staring at him. He hadn’t been ogled in a long time either. Everything about Y/n was what he’d been missing in his marriage. Which was a fucking shame when he sat and thought about it too much. It was sad that he had to get some of his most basic needs met by someone else. He should have been doing all that with his wife.

But again, there was no remorse or guilt. That hadn’t come yet. He was just going to enjoy the ride while it lasted and hoped he didn’t get caught.

. . .

Feedback/Thoughts | Ko-fi | Main Masterlist | Patreon

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran   @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince

@closureesny @angelbabyyy99 @damnasstyles @malwtilda @love-letters-to-uranus

@itjustkindahappenedreally @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs

@lc-fics @mema10 @hannahdressedasabanana @babegoalsreads @harrrrystylesslut @elidoho

@gotdrxnkonu @cathy-1997 @imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa @tiredinwinter @princessaxoxo

@angeldavis777 @lillefroe @monicaalexandraaa @hsonlyangelxo @brittanyzelazno

@lemoncrushh @golfrry @caynonmoondreams @danaehldy @mellamolayla

@ladscarlett @heartateasee @littlenatilda @virgopr1ncess @finelinepie

@michellekstyles @harrysredroom @harrydeary @mrs-anna-styles211994 @devilsqueen722

@bananabk9756 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @idkkkkkkk123lgb @freedomfireflies

[jarofstyles]

2025 Blurbs

⭐️ A masterlist of our blurbs from 2025 ⭐️

Check out our Patreon for early access and close to 300 exclusive writings and series!

Main Masterlist

Smut

Primal

Please? (subrry)

Warm at the Piano

Mean dom comes out to play

Taste of His Fingers

Size Kink + Pillow Princess combo

Fluff

Bloody Valentine

Roommate haircut

Italian Rain

Growing (belly, family, love)

There was only one bed… or, a real yearner!

Party Banter

Vamprry amused with his human

Aftercare blurb

Flower Jealousy

Dadrry Shopping

Angst

On the balcony

Break Your Heart… Camera?

[ghstyles]

For Worse or For Worse

· · ─────────── ·𖥸· ────────── · ·

· · ─────────── ·𖥸· ────────── · ·

WC: 4.2k

Masterlist

Preview and Summary

· · ─────────── ·𖥸· ────────── · ·

Home was meant to be a safe haven. Somewhere to recharge, unwind, and leave the chaos of the outside world behind. At least, that’s what it should’ve been. For Harry, it used to be just that: a quiet refuge where he could knock back a drink, let the silence stretch, and forget the blood and noise of the day. But lately, stepping through his own front door made his stomach twist with irritation. He liked to think he had control over his emotions, but something about sharing his space with Y/N set his nerves on edge. It was an itch he couldn’t scratch or a thought he couldn’t silence.

The house reeked of her perfume. Her sickly, stupid, sweet perfume. It was like a reminder of everything he couldn’t escape. The smell clung to the walls, seeped into the fabric of the couch, the sheets on his fucking bed. It made his stomach churn every time he stepped inside, knowing she was there, in his space, taking up room in his life. It made him tense knowing that he had to cohabitate with—be married to—the one person he’d been taught to despise. Every conversation he had with his mother now was a half hour of listening to whatever that vain woman spat about his wife. And for good fucking reason.

"You must understand, Harry, she will never fit in." His mother’s voice, smooth as the silk she draped herself in, echoed in his ears even when she wasn’t around. "Women like her, they don’t belong in our world. They take and take until there’s nothing left of you."

He could picture her now, perched in the grandiose sitting room of the family estate, wine glass in hand, lips curling in distaste.

"She doesn’t have the breeding, the refinement. No matter how many couture dresses she wears, she will always be just a girl who stumbled into something she could never truly understand."

The worst part? Harry wasn’t sure if he even disagreed.

Harry kicked the front door shut behind him, the wall rattling with a force that sent the beautiful, heavy wood slamming back into its hinges. He didn’t call out for Y/N, didn’t fucking care to. Their marriage wasn’t the honey, I’m home, sort of covenant. He didn’t care for it to be either.

He enjoyed the silence. The perfect moment of blissful reprieve before she made herself known and he was sent wondering if the whole thing was really worth it.

His footsteps echoed too loudly on the marble floors, like the house itself was reminding him how alone he was. Even the chandelier above him, sparkling in the low light, felt oppressive, too bright, and too pristine. Everything about this place was designed to impress, but it only pressed on him harder

Every corner of the house felt like a gilded cage. It was all beautiful but empty. A mansion for a man who didn’t know how to live in it

For a moment, the silence of the mansion was a rare comfort. The house, still and cold, held its breath as Harry poured himself a drink. He enjoyed the finer things life had to offer, especially when it came to his liquor. The clink of the glass was the only sound, a small, fleeting peace before everything went to hell again. He flicked open the cap, pouring himself a generous amount into one of the gold-rimmed snifters, the amber liquid sloshing around the rim of the glass before finally settling.

As he took a sip his hand came up to unbutton the collar of his pressed shirt, opening up invitingly. And just when all seemed perfect, the sound of someone descending the staircase shattered his moment of peace.

He groaned, the sound muffled by the lip of his glass. He knew that gaze. Didn’t even need to turn around to assure himself that it was her lingering at the end of the stairwell. He could practically feel her eyes boring into his back.

The idea of marriage never appealed to him in the first place, but this was worse. Harry didn’t like Y/N—despised her—plain and simple. But it wasn’t exactly his clever idea to get married, even if he was cold enough to admire the practicality of the situation.

As grating as she was, he didn’t mind that he got the publicity for dating her. That was the only tangible thing keeping him from saying to hell with it whenever she decided to run her little mouth. Her pretty lips needed to shut the fuck up. It was a marriage of convenience at best. The only silver lining in the shit sandwich that was their arrangement was that Y/N was surprisingly, begrudgingly easy on the eyes.

“And here I thought I’d have a quiet night. Alone,” he mumbles. His words were pointed, bordering between confrontational and passively sarcastic. He shoved away from the cart, flicking Y/N a glance as he crossed the room over to one of the living room’s armchairs.

“Wishful thinking, I suppose. What has my lovely spouse come to me for now? Oh, you know you look tired when your brows are all furrowed like that. A smile would look better, sweetheart.”

Harry watched Y/N cross her arms defensively, those eyes of hers narrowing with familiar contempt. The feeling was mutual. Four months of this arrangement and they still circled each other like wolves from rival packs, neither willing to concede an inch of territory.

"What's there to smile about when I'm married to you?" she scoffs, "And don’t call me that, I just came here to get a bottle of water” she says, before rolling her eyes, continuing on her path.

"What's there to smile about?" Harry echoed with a bitter laugh, taking another deep swig of his whiskey. The burn felt good, at least something did in this godforsaken house. "I don't know, maybe the fact that your debts are being paid while you get to live in a mansion most people would kill for? Such a tragedy."

He sprawled back in the armchair, one leg draped carelessly over the arm as he watched her roll her eyes and head toward the kitchen. The soft glow of the refrigerator light cast shadows across her features as she pulled it open.

Harry ran a hand through his brown hair, mussing it slightly as he studied her. There was something about the way she moved—tense, guarded, like she was constantly bracing for impact. He'd noticed it more lately, especially after his mother's particularly venomous phone call yesterday where he'd had the phone on speaker without realizing. Even in the dim lighting, he could see the exhaustion etched across her face. It was three in the morning, after all.

"Bit late for hydration, isn't it?" His voice carried easily through the open-concept space. "Most people are asleep at this hour. Though I suppose counting all that money I'm giving you might keep one up at night."

“You don’t see me judging your choice of drink at three in the fucking morning, do you?”

The side compartments rattled as she slammed the door shut

"Fair point about the drink," he conceded with a shrug, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Though I'd argue whiskey at 3 AM is more socially acceptable than water. Makes me seem sophisticated rather than...whatever you're being right now."

"Who the hell came up with that?"

"Some sophisticated guy. You wouldn’t know him."

"You mean a drunk guy. Probably an alcoholic."

His mouth curved into a smirk at her obvious irritation, taking a slow sip. "A sophisticated alcoholic, then."

She had half a mind to chuck this water bottle at him, instead, opening it to drink. He watched as she tilted her head, the long line of her throat working as she swallowed. For a brief moment, his eyes lingered on the curve of her neck before he forced his gaze away, annoyed at himself for noticing.

"Nightmares?" he asked suddenly, his tone marginally less cutting. "Or just plotting ways to make my life more difficult tomorrow? I'd like to prepare accordingly."

“Plotting implies I think about you which...I don't”

"You don't think about me? I'm wounded, truly," Harry pressed a hand to his chest in mock hurt. "And here I thought I was the center of your universe. My mistake."

Something in her posture caught his attention, though—a certain rigidity that seemed out of place. The way her eyes kept darting to the shadows of the large, empty house. Recognition flickered across his face before he could mask it. He'd grown up in houses like this, but she'd been financially coerced into it.

"This place is different at night, isn't it?" he observed, his tone shifting slightly. "All those empty rooms. Every little creak and groan magnified." He took another sip of whiskey, contemplating her. "Is that why you're really awake? The big bad mansion too scary for the small-town girl?

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Please. I’ve lived through worse than a few creaky floorboards."

Still, she didn’t quite meet his eyes.

Harry hummed, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "Of course. What was I thinking? Nothing rattles you"

"Glad we're finally on the same page."

But she didn’t move. Didn't turn her back to the dark hallway just yet.

His smirk deepened, catching the subtle hesitation. "Well, if you do happen to get spooked, feel free to scream. I’d hate to miss the chance to say ‘I told you so.'"

“You're real mature, you know that? now if you’ll excuse me, I’d hate to intrude on your night alone” she says, heading to the stairs.

“The security system could probably withstand a nuclear attack, if that helps," he added, almost as an afterthought. "My paranoid security team made sure of that."

“Of course they did,” she says, not even looking back at him as she reaches the stairs, “they sleep well knowing their prized pony boy is nice and protected.” 

Something about her dismissal irked him more than it should have. Perhaps it was being reduced to a "pony boy" or the fact that she was walking away from him mid-conversation. Either way, it stoked the embers of his annoyance.

"Pony boy?" he called after her, setting his glass down with a sharp clink. "Is that the best you could come up with? I've got three Grammys on the mantle, sweetheart. At least call me a thoroughbred."

She paused at the base of the stairs, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk. "Three Grammys and still desperate for my approval? That’s cute."

He rose from the armchair in one fluid motion, his tall frame unfolding as he followed her to the stairs. He wasn't entirely sure why he was prolonging this interaction as it certainly wasn't making either of them happier, but something about letting her have the last word felt like conceding defeat.

"You know," he leaned against the banister, looking at her retreating form with those penetrating green eyes, "for someone who claims to not think about me, you sure seem eager to run away. What's the matter? Afraid you might actually have a civil conversation with your husband?"

The word 'husband' tasted strange on his tongue, foreign and ill-fitting. Four months in and he still couldn't reconcile himself to the title.

"Or is it that you're scared of something else entirely?" A knowing smirk played at his lips as she paused. "Scared of the dark? The big empty house? Being alone?" His voice dropped lower. "You weren't waiting up for me, were you, Y/N?"

“I’m not scared of anything. Just couldn’t sleep”

"You know, if you're having trouble sleeping, I could always help you with that," he drawled, his voice low and menacing. "A good fuck might tire you out enough to actually get some rest. Though I doubt you'd be worth the effort."

She fully turns around, crossing her arms, looking at him with a ‘are you serious?’ look.

 “First of all, ew. I wouldn’t let you touch me with a ten foot pole, let alone a ‘good fuck’. Which, second, for you? I think is an overstatement”

Harry's eyebrows shot up at her sharp retort, surprise flickering across his face before a dark chuckle escaped his lips. She hadn’t backed down—not even flinched. Despite himself, he felt a flicker of something annoyingly close to respect.

"Overstatement?" he echoed, tilting his head, assessing her with newfound interest. "That’s quite the assumption for someone who’s never had the pleasure. Or is that jealousy I hear? Been listening to too many of my songs, perhaps?"

She scoffed, shaking her head. "Right. Because nothing gets me going like auto-tuned narcissism over a mediocre beat."

His smirk faltered just slightly, but he recovered quickly, climbing two steps, closing the space between them. The height difference was less pronounced now, the cross pendant at his neck catching the dim light as he moved.

"For the record," his voice dropped to a husky whisper, "I wasn't actually offering. I have standards, believe it or not." His gaze raked over her, exaggerated and slow. "Though I will admit, this arrangement would be marginally more tolerable if there were some... benefits."

She let out a dry laugh, tilting her head. "You sure about that? Wouldn't want to give your Mommy a heart attack."

Harry leaned against the banister, rolling up his sleeve to reveal the ink on his forearm. "You’re right. The very thought of touching the girl my mother warned me about since childhood..." he shuddered dramatically. "Small-town nobodies and all that."."

She raises a brow at the familiar insult, leaning her hip against the same banister, “Small-town nobody, huh? It's funny you say that as an insult considering this small-town nobody just gave you the biggest boner." she looks down at the bulge in his pants, "do I turn you on harry?" she says in a sultry tone

Harry's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking at the corner as her words hit their mark. His eyes narrowed at her boldness, at the way she'd turned his own game against him. The worst part was she wasn’t entirely wrong, no, his body was betraying him in the most inconvenient way possible.

"Don't flatter yourself," he growled, though the flush creeping up his neck belied his dismissal. "Four months of celibacy would have me hard for a particularly curvaceous piece of furniture. It’s biology, not preference."

Nevertheless, he shifted his stance slightly, uncomfortable with how exposed he felt under her knowing gaze. Harry Styles—Grammy-winning artist, heartthrob to millions—caught out by his arranged wife of all people.

"Sounds like a you problem," she shot back, arching a brow. "Maybe try getting some real hobbies. Touch some grass. Read a book."

"You think I can’t get what I want when I want it?" he challenged, taking another step up, further minimizing the distance between them. The air seemed to thicken around them, charged with something dangerous. "The agreement was to appear faithful, not actually be faithful. I could have anyone I wanted with a single phone call."

She snorted, arms crossing over her chest. "Then why haven’t you?"

That stopped him for half a second. His jaw tensed, but his smirk didn’t waver. "Maybe I’ve got standards."

"Or maybe," she mused, tapping a finger to her chin, "you’re just scared I might be right. That despite all your posturing, you’re actually wound up over me."

And he hadn't. For reasons he refused to examine too closely, he’d actually honored the spirit of their arrangement. Perhaps it was pride, or perhaps something more complicated.

"Do you turn me on?" he echoed her question, his voice dropping to a husky timbre as he leaned in, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath. "Maybe the question should be: does it turn you on to think you have that power over me?"

His green eyes locked with hers, searching for any sign of vulnerability, any crack in her defiant facade. There was something intoxicating about this standoff. Something more stimulating than any of the meaningless encounters he’d had before their arrangement.

Y/N didn’t so much as blink. Instead, she let out a low, unimpressed hum, tilting her head as if sizing him up.

"You talk a lot for a man who’s trying to convince me he’s unbothered."

His smirk faltered just slightly.

"And you deflect a lot for a woman who’s definitely bothered."

She let out a sharp, cutting laugh. "Please. If I wanted to feel something, I'd be in bed with a vibrator, not trading insults with you."

Harry’s expression flickered—something between amusement and irritation.

"Bold of you to assume it’d do a better job."

She took a slow step closer, close enough now that their bodies nearly touched. Her voice was softer when she spoke, more dangerous.

“Do it,” she says. “What’s stopping you huh? Definitely not the loving wife you have at home. If not being able to stick your dick in random girls every night bothers you, then go ahead.” with that, she turns to continue going up

Something in Harry snapped at her dismissal, the casual way she turned her back on him, the challenge in her words. Four months of frustration, of living in this bizarre limbo with a woman who simultaneously infuriated and intrigued him, culminated in one impulsive moment.

Before she could take another step, his hand shot out, fingers wrapping firmly around her wrist. In one swift motion, he pulled her back, turning her to face him. Their bodies collided, her back against the wall of the stairwell, his tall frame looming over her.

"You think I won’t?" he growled, his face inches from hers, green eyes blazing with intensity. "You think I give a damn about this sham of a marriage?"

Her breath hitched for only a second, but she refused to let him see it. Instead, she let out a slow, unimpressed exhale. "Oh, I know you don’t. You remind me every chance you get."

His free hand came up to brace against the wall beside her head, caging her in. The cross pendant dangled between them, catching the light as his chest rose and fell with quickened breaths.

"I've spent four months watching you walk around my house, sleeping in my bed, drinking my water at three in the fucking morning," his voice was low, rough with barely contained emotion. "And all the while thinking you’re so much better than me. The virtuous small-town girl forced to endure the big bad celebrity."

Her lips curled, head tilting as she studied him. "Please. You act like I asked for this. Like I begged to be trapped with you and your champagne problems. If anything, I’m the one enduring you, Harry."

He leaned in closer, close enough that their noses almost touched, his lips curling into a bitter smile.

"Here’s what I think, Y/N. I think you’re just as curious as I am. I think you lie in that bed at night wondering what it would be like. Why else would you be so fixated on what I do or don’t do with my cock?"

Her brows lifted, a sharp laugh escaping her lips. "Fixated? God, your ego is exhausting. I don’t give a damn where you stick it, as long as it’s far away from me."

"Tell me again to ‘do it.’ Tell me again what I should do, when we both know you’re just as trapped in this arrangement as I am."

His eyes dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second before snapping back to hold her gaze.

“I…” the words die in her throat, the proximity suffocating. The familiar proximity.

For a second, Y/N was transported back to a simpler time. Before all of…this. When Harry and Y/N were friends. Well…if you can call it friends.

The tension in the stairwell suddenly shifts, the air charged with something beyond their current animosity. Y/N’s hesitation, the way her eyes unfocus slightly, brings Harry up short. For a moment, he sees something in her expression—recognition, perhaps even nostalgia—that cuts through his anger.

His grip on her wrist loosens slightly, confusion flickering across his features.

· · ─────────── ·𖥸· ────────── · ·

Summer, 11 years ago

The air smelled of honeysuckle and fresh-cut grass, the golden afternoon sun casting long shadows across the small clearing behind the Styles' summer estate. Sixteen-year-old Harry lounged on a weathered picnic blanket, his lanky frame not yet filled out, his face softer, less angular. No tattoos marked his skin then, no world-weariness in his bright green eyes.

"You're never going to get this right if you keep tensing up," he laughed, watching Y/N struggle with the guitar he'd placed in her hands. Her fingers fumbled with the chord progression he'd been trying to teach her for the past hour.

"It's not as easy as you make it look," she retorted, frustration coloring her cheeks a pretty pink. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, wisps escaping to frame her face. "Some of us don't have natural musical talent."

Harry grinned, scooting behind her on the blanket. "Here," he said, reaching around to position her fingers correctly on the fretboard. "Like this."

Their bodies fit together easily, his chest against her back, his arms encircling her to guide her hands. The innocent touch sent a surprising jolt through both of them, a current neither was prepared to acknowledge.

"See?" His voice was suddenly softer, closer to her ear than necessary. "You just need to relax."

Y/N turned her head slightly, their faces unexpectedly close. For a heartbeat that stretched into eternity, they froze, caught in a moment of sudden awareness—of each other, of possibilities neither had considered before.

"Harry!" A sharp voice cut through the clearing. Anne Styles stood at the edge of the property, her expression thunderous as she took in the scene. "Inside. Now."

Harry jerked away from Y/N as if burned, the spell broken. He stood quickly, avoiding Y/N's eyes.

"Coming, Mother," he called, his voice shifting to something more formal, more controlled.

"You should go," he muttered to Y/N, not looking at her as he gathered his things. "It's getting late anyway."

Later that night, the shouting from the Styles mansion carried across the grounds, words like "beneath us" and "embarrassment" and "know your place" floating on the evening breeze.

It was the last summer Harry ever came to the estate.

· · ─────────── ·𖥸· ────────── · ·

Present day

Harry blinks, as if thinking about the same moment she was. His hand still holds Y/N’s wrist, but something has shifted in the air between them—a complication neither wants to acknowledge.

"You what?" he prompts, his voice rougher than intended, uncertain if she's experiencing the same uncomfortable flashback. "Finish your thought, Y/N. Or has the small-town nobody finally run out of clever retorts?"

The mockery feels hollow now, a desperate attempt to reestablish the safer territory of antagonism rather than confront the shared history that briefly resurfaced.

Her expression hardened, “stay away from me” she says, pushing him off, not waiting for him to recover before making her way up. 

Harry stumbled back a step, more from the unexpected force of her rejection than the physical push itself. Something unreadable flashed across his features—surprise, perhaps even hurt—before hardening back into his customary mask of indifference.

He didn't follow her. Didn't call out with another biting retort. Instead, he stood frozen on the stairs, watching her ascend, the ghost of their shared past hovering between them like an uninvited specter.

When she disappeared from view, Harry ran a hand roughly through his brown hair, exhaling a shaky breath. The encounter had veered into territory he wasn't prepared to navigate. Memories he'd buried beneath years of carefully cultivated disdain.

"Fuck," he muttered to himself, descending the stairs with heavy steps.

Back in the living room, he retrieved his abandoned whiskey glass, draining the contents in one burning swallow. The silence of the house pressed in around him, suddenly oppressive in its emptiness. He poured another generous measure, the amber liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim.

Harry moved to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the manicured grounds of his estate, pressing his forehead against the cool glass. His reflection stared back at him—successful, wealthy, miserable. Everything his mother had wanted him to be.

"Stay away from me," he repeated her words quietly to himself, a bitter smile twisting his lips. "As if I haven't been trying to do exactly that for the past decade."

The memory of younger Y/N laughing, open, untainted by the hardships that would later shape her lingered uncomfortably in his mind. Before his mother's poisonous words had fully taken root. Before fame and fortune had erected walls around his heart.

Harry took another long drink, welcoming the burn that chased away unwanted thoughts. This arrangement was strictly business. A mutually beneficial transaction. Nothing more. It had to stay that way.

Upstairs, he could hear the faint sound of movement. Y/N still awake, still restless in the too-large house. For a brief, mad moment, he considered going to her, apologizing, explaining...what exactly? That his mother had systematically taught him to despise her kind? That he'd spent years convincing himself she meant nothing?

Instead, he sank into the armchair, cradling his drink, determined to wait out the night alone. It was better this way. Safer. The alternative was far too complicated for either of them to handle.

· · ─────────── ·𖥸· ────────── · ·

A/N: sooo…? What do we think of part one? I literally couldn't wait to post it. Part two coming soon!

Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate you <3

Taglist: @mysunflowerposts

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Twelve Days: Part 3**

Part 3 of this littel series! Thank you for your patience and for reading this story! I will create a post for all the parts soon! Hope you guys enjoy and feel free to send theories or any ideas that you guys would want me to consider incorporating.

Warnings: infidelity, break ups, mentions of depression and anxiety and their symptoms, mentions and use of alcohol and drugs, breast/ nipple play, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms

WC: 7.8K

Day Nine:

Harry’s POV:

Harry was still reeling from that steamy night you two had shared a couple days prior. He was relieved that you weren’t regretful of what had happened that night. He wasn’t sure what he would’ve done if you’d shut him out afterwards. He wasn’t regretful of what had happened but maybe just a little bit upset of how it had happened. He never wanted you to feel like he had done that because he was lonely, like you’d said then. Or worse, to get back at Julie for her infidelity. In all honesty, he just liked being around you more than he remembered.

He really was worried that this would feel out of the blue for you. But, meanwhile Julie was off with this Joe guy this time around, he was growing apart from her and his love for her was starting to fade. You were also dealing with a lot and he had wanted so badly to check in and to talk to you, to be there for you, but you had asked for space from everyone and he wanted to respect that. He felt that he could have reached out anyway, just to let you know that he had your back or was there to support if you ever needed it, but he hadn’t. And now, he was a bit concerned that this all would seem like a convenient time for him to get close all to just hook up with you.

The context in general just had his anxiety skyrocketing and he was struggling to play it cool. Even the fact that you were playing it so cool had him worrying just a bit more because he liked you! And maybe to you it was just a thing that you’d done in the heat of the moment and again, he’d end up with hurt feelings. He would jump at the opportunity to do it again though, that’s what was scary to him. And well, like he had mentioned to you before, it wasn’t like he was just realizing what a catch you were. He knew that from way before. And the more he got to know you over the years, the more he grew to care about. He had found himself admiring you before but it was never more than just a thought in the moment. When you started to date Ash you started to pull away from all of them and he didn’t like that. To him, it was red flag behavior to have a partner who always wanted you to change things for the relationship to work. You were sacrificing a lot to keep that relationship going. And sure, you put on a happy face when someone you love asks you to do something for them but moving to the other side of the country where you know no one? Being away from your family? You had done everything you could and still, you were left high and dry.

A part of him understood what you had said when you told him that you felt weak for letting Ash affect you that way. He was familiar with the feeling, he had allowed your sister’s infidelity slide before. In a way, what he had going with her would be better than retuning to England and be neglected by his own family. At least here he knew that your family loved him and supported him. He had friends that were like his family, colleagues and mentors that were like parent figures to him and helped him get to where he was now. For all of that, he felt that staying in an unhappy marriage wasn’t such a big price to pay. But like all things we compromise our happiness for, it started to take a toll and now, he needed Julie to let him go.

Y/N’s POV:

After your first sexual encounter with Harry it was relieving to know that you were both on the same page about it. However, there was still a lingering fear over how far it would go the next time. Would there even be a next time? Should there even be a next time? The day prior had just been spent at the house relaxing with everyone, there were thankfully no weird or tense vibes between you. You’d gone out to shop for the Christmas meal ingredients and the rest of the ladies decided to tag along, which you were a bit bummed about because you wanted to take the time to think about what the fuck you were going to do about this thing with Harry. He was important to you, you did have love for him to a certain degree because he was part of the family, but now you were attracted to him and that could easily become something else. Something more…and well that would be weird, wouldn’t?

“Y/N!” Your aunt raised her voice as she waved her hand in your face.

“Huh?” You asked as you finally snapped out of your thoughts. 

“I wanted to know what wine the Christmas meal will pair well with?” She inquired. “I do prefer a white but depends on the red it goes with, I wouldn’t mind it.”

“I’m not too sure to be honest, just get what you like.” You assured her and she seemed satisfied with that answer before putting down the bottle of white she had picked up.

As you turned your gaze to find the scallions you locked eyes with your sister who gave you a slightly questioning gaze. To be fair, you did seem quite out of it and it wasn’t with no reason. You had a lot on your mind right now. When you located the scallions you started making your way over, not missing that she had followed after you.

“Hey, you good?” She asked you and you briefly turned to her and nodded.

“Yeah, just have a lot on my mind.” You explained.

“Mmm…with the holidays and all?” She asked and you just nodded. Obviously, she was asking if this had anything to do with Ash and you just agreed. “I do too. I’m really glad Harry got to be here for this. He really loves you guys and well, vice versa!” She explained, “But I do wish I could spend the holidays with well…” she trailed off.

“It’s that serious?”

“Yeah. Or at least to me. S’why he came a few days ago.” She said and you nodded. “I wonder what Harry’s gonna do when we split up…” she said quietly.

“I think he’ll be okay.” You assured her.

“Yeah… I do hope he finds happiness though.” She said and you felt your tummy do a funny flip when you wondered if you could make Harry happy? But that idea soured when you wondered if your sister would feel the same about Harry’s happiness if he wanted to explore that with you. Regardless, you let the thought go because it was a ridiculous one to ever consider. It’s not like anything with Harry could actually take off. You just offered her a smile before grabbing the little bunch of scallions and put them into the produce baggy. 

“Hey, ummm…I really just need some alone time today. Could you maybe talk everyone into going out for dinner so I can just cook something for myself and unwind a little?” You asked and she smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, of course.” She assured you.

With that, you felt a bit more at ease. You were looking forward to having some quiet time in the evening. That was until your sister asked if she could come into your room.

“Yeah, come in!” You called out.

“Hey, would you mind if Harry stayed behind with you? He’s not up for acting like everything is perfect with us.” She explained. You felt your body warming up at the sound of that. “He’s goo about keeping to himself.” She added in, as if you needed any further convincing.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You mumbled back as nonchalantly as possible.

“Okay, thank you. I don’t know if you noticed that he’s been sleeping in the room over here?” She asked and you nodded.

“I heard him coming in one night.”

“Okay. But I did tell him you really wanted some space tonight so he’ll be mindful of that.” She assured you.

“Thank you for going these lengths.” You smiled at her.

“It’s the least I could do for you after…you heard me out so graciously and-”

“You don’t need to thank me for that.” You assured her and she nodded with a small smile.

“I’ll see you tonight then.”

“You can also take them to get drunk afterwards if you want…” you added and she chuckled.

“We’ll see where the night takes us!” She said before leaving you.

After everyone had gone, you emerged from the shower and lazed around for a few more minutes undisturbed, which seemed a little odd to you. So you made your way out to the kitchen, thinking that you might coax Harry out to join you, but you were nearly done with your carbonara and he had not come out. You’d made enough for him, so decided to go get him. Your gentle raps on his door were greeted by him slightly opening up for you.

“Hey, I made carbonara for us for dinner.” You informed him and his lips quirked up a bit.

“Oh great, I was just about to order in.” He explained and your brows knotted together in confusion.

“You were gonna eat alone?”

“Well yeah, you wanted space, no?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, that’s true but not necessarily from you.” You explained timidly and he smiled a bit wider. “Kinda thought you would’ve come to grab me the moment everyone was gone.”

“Normally yeah. But I just…I thought it was because of me, you know? That you needed some space.” He explained.

“Oh…ummm…I can’t say that our situation hasn’t been on my mind a lot.” You explained, “But it’s more to do with everyone looking at me like a wounded bird.” You explained and he smiled a bit. “Like I get it, but goes back to the pride thing we talked about before. I just hate that I feel like I’m doing good but then everyone looks at me like I’m not and it makes me feel like shit.” You elaborated.

“For the record you are not giving wounded bird vibes. It’s more non-combative and I think that scares your family a bit. They might think it’s a facade when it’s not. You’re just moving through the acceptance of it.” He said, “Well, at least that’s what I gathered from what I’ve seen and what we’ve talked about.” 

“Well, thank you for…seeing me.” You said softly and he smiled. “So…do you want to have dinner with me?” You asked again. And he didn’t need any further coaxing before he was serving himself the other half of the food before you two were sat beside each other on stools around the kitchen island as you talked about how your days had gone. Your laughter had just died down from a story Harry had finished telling and you reached over to him.

“Wait, wait, wait….” You giggled. “You had sauce on your chin.” You laughed breathily as he held still for you to swipe it away with your thumb.

“Thanks.” He hummed as you pulled your hand away to wipe it on the napkin by your plate.

“Of course.” You assured him.

“I’ve been…thinking a lot about what happens when we go back home.” He said and the lightness of the mood started to fade.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… like I…I care about you a lot and I don’t want you to feel like I just used you and I too don’t want to feel… used. I think it would hurt a lot more coming from you.” He explained. “But then, I also understand that no matter how we go about this, it’ll look really bad on us if we decide to…you know?” He said inquisitively and your gaze softened as you started to read between the lines of what he was saying. Did he want to try to be with you? “I don’t even know what I’m saying any more just…forget about it.” He mumbled.

“Harry.” You sighed as you reached for his arm. Your palm anded gently over his bicep. He looked up at you from his empty plate. “I don’t know what the fuck we’re even doing but I know that I feel safe with you. I feel taken care of. You hear me and see me. And whether it’s right or wrong, I have a huge fucking crush on you too.” You admitted “Just saying, you know? In case you…didn’t pick up on that before.” You said with less confidence now as you started to feel a little uncertain of the vulnerability you had just displayed. 

However, before you could second guess yourself any further, Harry was reaching for your face and leaning in as his lips kissed yours. You easily melted into his kiss and started leaning into him as well. And as your kiss grew more heated you had been moved onto the couch. You could feel his arousal through his pants and it was making you lose your self-control. You were obsessed with the way his arms squeezed around your waist so strongly, it made you feel small and delicate in his hold. It was different than with Ash, where you often felt like you were the one who did the caretaking. When he was holding you like this, you felt taken care. When he kissed you as deeply and intentionally as he was, you felt safe and warm from deep inside. 

“Let me suck you off.” you mumbled again his lips and Harry inhaled sharply.

“You don’t have to.” He breathed out.

“I want to.” You assured him, “Really badly.” You added, your eyes bore into his gaze, asserting your desire. “Please?” You asked softly as you placed a single kiss on his lips and then pulled back. “Know you want me to, so stop pretending.” You hummed with a smirk as you kissed his chin, then his jaw, and then his neck, where you sucked gently.

Harry rolled his head to the side to give you the space to work down the column of his throat with your lips. You were gentle, to ensure you weren’t leaving any marks on him, no matter how badly you wanted to. Your hand started to slither up beneath his shirt, feeling up his abs and his taut chest before bringing your hand down to the elastic band of his sweats. Your finger teased at it before you slid back a bit on his lap, enough to grope around the bulge in his pants. He sighed shakily as you rubbed the heel of your palm over his cock back and forth, making him squirm beneath you. After a bit of teasing you started to slide down to your knees and there was no falsified chivalry on his end any more. Harry was rushing to slid his bottoms down to his ankles while you pulled one of the pillows to the ground to kneel more comfortably. And when his cock was standing tall before your face your mouth started to salivate. You were so impatient to get him into your mouth. You reached for him and give him a few gentle strokes. You smiled up at him as you heard his breath hitch. His hot and smooth skin was making you impatient, so you just lowered your face and gave a testing lick from the base to his tip. 

“Fuck, please get me into your mouth.” He muttered desperately. You smirked up at him and proceeded to part your lips and sucked his tip between your lips. You let your tongue swirl around it, finding the underside of it and rubbing against it. You felt his thighs flex beneath one of your hands as he moaned deeply. “Fucking hell…”

You were wet just from hearing his lovely sounds as you sucked him off. You slowly started to take more, enjoying the feeling of his fingers tangling into your hair and helping you keep the pace that was making him shiver. He was bigger than your previous partners, so you were struggling with not being too sloppy, but he didn’t seem to mind it. Specially as you gagged around him as you tried to get him in all the way.

“Fuck, just use your hand for now. S’okay, you’ll get it eventually.” He assured you and that alone had your pussy fluttering, your walls were pulsing steadily from how turned on you were. 

Harry was encouraging and vocal and it was the hottest thing that you’d ever experienced. Even more so as he held you gently by the head and started to thrust into your mouth, you relaxed your jaw to help him get in as deep as he was craving. His muttered curses and praises were music to your ears. Despite that tearfulness in your eyes, you were thinking about when the next opportunity you’d get to do this again would be. He was getting close to coming from what he was saying and you were desperate to get a taste of him. You started to suck around his tip again and started to stroke at the pace he’d been thrusting, taking over once again. You felt his body just relax into the couch as one of his hands skimmed over your cheek, feeling the bulge of his cock against it.

“I’m gonna come…fuck…” he moaned deeply as your hot, little mouth worked him to his climax. And moments later you could feel his body starting to tense up beneath you. His breath hitch and you glanced up at him, his head was thrown back into the cushions, eyes squeezed shut as his jaw started to slack until the deepest moan flowed from his mouth as he started to come. His hand went back to your hair, gripping it hard as he held you in place until you felt the first spurt of his cum pooling on your tongue. You moaned around him in response which made his cock twitch as he started to shoot more of his sperm into your mouth. You swallowed around him quickly before you felt a few more spurts fill your mouth with his warmth and flavor before he was panting and threading his fingers into your hair. His thighs were trembling as you gave a few gentle sucks to clean him off before you pulled away from his length and let it plop down against his thigh.

He was still half hard and it made you wonder if he’d get back to full size if you played with him ever so gently. But that plan was soon cut short as he pulled you up onto the couch until you were laying across it. Harry was laid on his side as he kissed you and help you get your own pants and under wear down your legs until his fingers were skimming over your labia and then sliding down to your entrance to feel your arousal. You were so fucking wet, it was embarrassing in the slightest. He spread your arousal around you and started to rub against your clit with two gentle fingers. The circular motions were dizzying as you kissed sloppily. Your legs were spread for him, allowing him ease of access while he pleasured you. 

“Please.” You whispered as his two fingers teased at your entrance. He smirked and then sat up and placed the throw pillows beneath your back to prop you up enough against the  inner corner of the couch and then he sunk down between your legs onto his knees. You had a perfect view of him kissing up your thighs as he guided one of your legs over his shoulder and held the other open by the back of your thigh and planted it against the couch. 

When his lips met with your clit your walls clenched tight. Watching him was something different entirely, it was even more erotic to see him throw all caution out the window as he just buried his face between your legs. His hot, smooth tongue rolled over your clit in intentional swipes until you were trembling. You were pressing him even closer to you, grinding up against his face as you did everything you could to feel even more than you already were. When he finally put his fingers back in you were done for. 

Two of his thick digits were gliding in and out of your little hole with ease. The soft squelching sounds of the friction was making you eve more wet for him. The way he was thrusting in and rubbing into your g-spot and then sucking on your throbbing little clit was making your vision blur with pleasure. You just wanted to come for him and if he kept this up you would be making a mess. It was too much in the absolute best way possible. Your blood was flowing hot and heavy through your veins, you were completely losing yourself as your hips started to grind into his movements all on their own. You were right on the edge, just needing a few more seconds of his merciless fingers prodding into your g-spot to get you to come. A broken cry left your mouth and then it happened. Despite how badly you wanted to watch, your eyes squeezed shut and your head rolled back into the pillows as you started to come. 

“H-harry! Oh my god!” You gasped as he started to finger fuck you a bit harder and he started to rub at your clit with his thumb instead as he leaned over you now.

“Look at me. Right at me, baby.” He said lowly and your glassy eyes met with his and he smirked at the sight of you all fucked out from his fingers alone. “You’re squeezing so fucking hard. You’re gonna come again, aren't you?” He asked and you nodded, “Come on then. Come for me, baby.” He egged you on and kissed you to swallow down your sounds. 

Your walls were spasming around his fingers erratically. Your thighs were trying to close around his body but couldn’t as he was in the way. But thankfully, his pace and intensity started to diminish enough that you started to relax. And when he pulled his fingers from you he sucked them clean before delving back into your space to kiss you. Your lips smeared together sloppily for a few more minutes as you caught your breath and came down from your orgasms. 

“Alright?” He asked with a teasing smile and you nodded wordlessly, still reeling mentally. You pulled him back down for another kiss. This one was slow and deep, you both got lost in it for several minutes until the kiss ended naturally. “I really fucking like you.” Harry said softly and you felt your face going all hot with a blush.

“I really like you too.” You whispered back.

Day Ten:

To say that you were on cloud nine after your evening with Harry, was an understatement. You just felt good all around in a way that you hadn’t in quite a long while. Even the lingering concern of what you would do in regards to your sister wasn’t enough to break you out of this high you were feeling. 

  Not surprising, but everyone was pretty hungover from their dinner and drinks outing the night before. You and Harry had to go and pick then up nearly at 11pm. By then, you two had been cuddled up in your bed and watching a film but the call from Julie soon came for you two to come to their aid, one of you to drive them home and the other to drive back Julie’s car. All this to say that your morning was quiet. By the time you’d returned from your walk, showered, and sat for breakfast, only you and Harry were up and active and found yourselves on the lounge chairs, taking in some sun side by side. The look he gave you revealed that he wanted to be closer, but alas, that wasn’t possible in this particular setting.  

It was past noon when your sister emerged from the pool house, she had ordered in some food and was going to get it. The door bell ringing is what roused everyone else and you and Harry made them breakfast for lunch and aided them in balancing out the effects of the hangover. You had retired to your bedroom for a bit and you perked up at the soft knocks on your door. You were fully expecting to see Harry but saw your sister peeking in instead.

“Hey, do you have a few minutes?” She asked and you nodded, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. She dropped onto your bed and exhaled shakily. “Thanks for keeping Harry entertained. I know it’s not your responsibility but-”

“Oh no, it’s alright. We get along well and I’ve liked having someone to talk to.” 

“Okay. He seems to enjoy your company as well and ummm…I just…I don’t want you to get hurt any more. Like, maybe he’s doing other things subconsciously, but I feel like he’s flirting with you a little just to make me jealous or upset? I don’t know…” she sighed and you felt a lump forming in your throat.

“I don’t get that feeling at all, Julie. I think that it’s nice for someone to see you and appreciate you when you haven’t had that for a long time. He’s not creepy and he doesn’t make me uncomfortable in any way. I think the way that you guys are all walking on eggshells around me trying to not make me feel overwhelmed with care, he’s just being a little bit more attentive towards me. That’s how he’s showing me that he cares about what I’ve been dealing with, you know?”

“And you’re okay with that?” She asked and you nodded.

“He’s not over bearing about it like mom and dad are.” You explained and she nodded in understanding. “Also, we’ve just…gotten a little closer with everything going on. We both needed someone to confide in, you know?”

“And what about me? I confided in you but you’re siding with him?” She asked and you sighed.

“It’s not that simple…I think we’re both in the position of being let down by people we were in love with.” You explained and she sighed.

“Right.” 

“Yeah and it’s just…easier to be there for each other when we know what it is that we’re dealing with, you know?” 

“Yeah. I get it.” She said curtly and then stood up wordlessly and left. You sighed and were tempted to go after her but decided to just give her some space before bringing it up again.

It was around dinner time when you had stepped out for a little smoke, you had skipped lunch and with this small tiff with your sister now on your mind, you weren’t feeling too hungry for dinner, but you needed to have something. Harry interrupted you and stepped out onto your small patio.

“Hey.” He greeted you and you smiled slightly.

“Hey…so my sister came by and basically wanted to know if I had noticed that you were being really friendly with me to piss her off.” you explained and he sighed. “I told her that I did see it in that way and that we were actually getting along really well and just sharing what we’ve been dealing with and that we were both bonding over the experience of disappointed by people we were in love with.” You continued, “And then she got upset and left. So if she’s pissed at you later it might be because of that.” You informed him.

“Noted…” he hummed and took the joint that you offered over. He took a hit before returning it to you.

“When we get back home, we should make time to hang out.”

“Of course we’re gonna hang out.” Harry said.

“I know that…but Julie might not be too happy about us being friends.”

“Is that what we are then? Friends?” He asked you with a small smirk.

“Yeah. We are…for all intents and purposes.” You explained. “I just really don’t want her to keep thinking that you’re doing this to get back at her for cheating, you know? Maybe if she sees that we have a genuine connection she’ll be more open if anything more pans out.” You explained cautiously. You didn’t want to jump the gun with what this could be with him and you also wanted to protect your sister’s feelings.

“So, just to clear this up…down the line…if I asked you on a date…”

“I’d say yes.” You assured him with a timid smile as your eyes met his.

“Good to know.” He hummed with a smile. 

Day Eleven:

You had woken up feeling a bit more deflated. Your sister’s anger had carried over into the night and no doubt into this new day. She was also giving Harry an extra cold shoulder, not really worried about keeping up appearances, like she usually would. That night, she asked Harry if they could go out and talk. Harry did text you that she was still pretty pissed off and you just went to bed instead of waiting up for a visit from him. Sure enough, your theory was proven correct when you joined everyone for breakfast and your sister just shot a quick glance at you before carrying on with fixing up her plate. She also seemed to be ignoring Harry and was being curt with everyone else, so at least her wrath wasn’t limited to you.

But throughout the day, she just continued having drinks, keeping her buzz going until she just had to lay down for a bit. Your family celebrated on the 24th, given your mother’s cultural background so you counted her out of helping you with dinner prep and Harry jumped in, in her stead. You were having a lovely time with him and your mom to prepare the meal you’d all share later on before your gift exchange. After a couple hours of work you’d all gone your separate ways to get ready for dinner. You always did a family picture before eating, so you got slightly dressed up for that. You had just finished your make up and then got into your outfit. It wasn’t anything too fancy, just pair of brown, gingham print trousers and a green button up cardigan. You got some chunky, silver hoops on and left the chain you wore everyday around your neck. For the photo, you got into the ballet flats you’d brought, you’d definitely change back into your scuffette’s after the photo. With a few spritzes of perfume, you were hurrying out of your bedroom since you were being called to hurry up. You saw everyone already out in the living room, talking about what the best arrangement would be for the photo. In the end, you just sat criss-cross on the ground and after a few attempts everyone was pleased with how it came out and you all sat down for dinner. 

“Seems like Julie’s back to her normal self.” You said to Harry as she insisted on fixing his plate. 

“She’s just really fucking drunk.” He said quietly, “Lucky for us, she’s an affectionate drunk.” He mumbled and you hummed. 

Soon everyone was seated and you started having your meal together. Due to her drinking binge, Julie was definitely being the life of the party. At least for now, everything was going as it should have. You were all laughing and getting along, your worries being the last things on your minds. You rushed off to change after eating so that you could participate in the games more comfortably. And it did help, because you were having a lot of fun playing board games with everyone. You and Harry were exchanging heated glances the entire time and it was going by unnoticed thanks to everyone’s slight drunkenness. And soon after, you also enjoyed a couple rounds of karaoke to kill some time before opening the presents. When you guys did your traveling christmases you only did a secret Santa amongst each other since the main expense was the traveling bit. Regardless, your mother had gotten you the lovely earrings that you’d put on your wishlist and you immediately got them on. Everyone else seemed pleased with their gifts and maybe it was because they were so drunk. The first one to tap out was your sister, who disappeared to the pool house as you guys had a few more goes at the portable karaoke mic Harry had brought along before your aunt turned in and then your parents soon followed. It nearing 2am though, so you weren’t surprised and well, your issues with insomnia were coming pretty in handy as you and Harry had another go at a card game, Go Fish, for your benefit.

“You have to know that I’m a sore loser.” You warned with a grin.

“Well, you can work on it.” He chuckled quietly. “Do you have a five?”

“You suck.” You mumbled as you handed it over and he chuckled.

“Losers can get prizes too.”

“Like?” You asked with a smirk.

“Like…loser has to share their bed with me.” He said lowly and your lips twitched up in a slight grin.

“Looks like I have no more sets.” You decided and he laughed quietly before you also started giggling quietly. Eventually, you did lose, but in a larger sense, you’d won. 

Your lips met Harry’s gently through your giggles as he walked you down the dark hallway to your bedroom. Thankfully, you’d left the door ajar and you two were able to push inside easily. He closed it quietly before walking over to you and grabbing your face and bringing your lips to his own. 

Your kiss was slow and deep, absolutely dripping with the yearning that had been building up between you two over the night. The way his hands started to roam over your body made you feel desirable in the best way. You could get lost in your lust for each other and enjoy it completely. He was so warm, you wanted to feel him skin to skin. So you tugged at the hem of his t-shirt and he very quickly got the hint. Your lips made a quick smacking sound as they parted wetly from his. You reared back to allow him to get undressed and you took advantage and pulled off your top quickly. Before you even had a chance to unclasp your bra he was pulling the cups down and leaning down to suck at your nipple. You sighed happily as his free hand reached around you to get the bra off. You loved how impatient he was and appreciated his urgency. Next thing you knew, you were falling back onto your bed as he kissed over your right breast now. You whined lowly when he nibbled down with a little too much force on your sensitive little bud. Your tight grip in his hair reeled him back.

“Sorry.” He mumbled against your heated skin and then started kissing his way up to your lips again.

“S’alright.” You assured him before he pecked your lips again. “Ummm…I did have a question though… did you ummm…did you want to h-have sex?” You asked him with a slightly nervous tone on your voice.

“Eventually. But I think that tonight we both drank a little too much for comfort.” He brought up, “So to answer your question, yes. But tonight’s not the time. Tonight, I just kinda wanna lay here and hold you.” He hummed with a smile.

“Topless?” You asked and he grinned.

“If possible, yes. I like how it feels to be against you, skin to skin.” 

You felt your blood rushing up to your face at this suddenly romantic feeling blossoming between you two. He settled in beside you and draped his arm over your waist to hold you close. 

“What I said earlier about waiting? Was that the right answer?” He asked and you smiled.

“Definitely.” You confirmed. “But I still want to. I want to so freakin’ bad.”

“Stop with that please.” He chuckled before landing a gentle smack to your lower back. You grinned and then leaned up to land a gentle smooch to his bottom lip.

“Does that mean no kissing?” You asked.

“No, we can definitely kiss.” He mumbled as he dipped down and attached his lips to yours. Suddenly you heard the sliding door from the pool house open, meaning Julie had emerged. “Shit, shit, shit!” He whisper shouted as he  untangled his body from yours. You heard the sliding back door open as well, and just like that, she was inside. Harry was trying to find his clothes without turning on the light. 

“Harry?” You heard her calling from a distance.

“Hide! Just hide!” You rushed out as you heard her coming towards the hallway and calling for him again. 

Harry rushed out to your small patio and out of sight just as you heard your sister’s soft raps against his bedroom door. You sprung out of bed and grabbed a hoodie you had thankfully left on top of the dresser and rushed into the bathroom to get it on in case she decided to pay you visit. You had just put your hands through the sleeves when you heard your bedroom door open and the first thought you had was to flush the toilet and after a few moments you ran the tap to “wash your hands” and then stepped out to see her splayed out on your bed.

“Fuck! What’re you doing here?!” You asked her, trying to sound genuinely startled by her presence.

“Have you seen Harry?” She asked you monotonously and you didn’t trust your voice, but spoke up anyway.

“Uhhh, nope.”

“He’s not in his room.”

“So he’d be here?” You asked.

“I don’t know…just thought maybe he said something to someone if he took off or something.” She then pressed herself up to sit and sighed. “The bed kinda smells like him.” She said softly.

“I think that’s you. You’re wearing one of his shirts.” You pointed out to her and she glanced down and then let out a little giggle. 

“Duh…Sorry…I just…I have a weird feeling.”

“About?”

“Him. He’s been…weird on this trip. Everyone was asking me about it at dinner the other day and I just, didn’t know what to say.” She explained.

“How about a little bit of the truth?”

“No. Way.” She said defensively as she got out of your bed.

“You can’t hide the truth forever. And you don’t have to tell them all the gory details just yet. But, just say that things aren’t going well between you two and are just deciding what the next move is. And not to rub salt in the wound or whatever, but I can’t imagine a world in which any person would be comfortable playing pretend for this long. Maybe you’re better at carrying secrets than he is? Specially if he’s only been keeping it for your sake.” You explained and she sighed.

“I feel like such an asshole every time I talk to you.” She muttered as she walked past you and out of your bedroom. “I’m going to go back to bed.” She said lowly and then closed the door behind her. 

You waited in complete silence, ear pressed against the door to ensure that she was actually heading off and when you heard the sliding door to the backyard open you quietly opened up your own little patio door and Harry hurried inside, trembling from the cold.

“Jesus, m’nearly hypothermic.” He chattered and you were quick to pull open on of your drawers and hand over another sweatshirt you had. You liked them oversized, so you knew he could fit into it easily. And he was quick to pull it over his body and then pulled you into his arms to get more warmth.

“I think you should sleep in your room tonight. Julie, she’s got like a feeling about you or something. She seemed upset.”

“As if she had any right to be upset…” he mumbled.

“I know, but we just need to take it easy, I think.” You weighed in and he nodded.

“You’re right. One more day here and then we can figure things out.” He said quietly as he gave you a little squeeze and you nodded.

“Yeah, just one more day.”

Day Twelve:

It was Christmas Day, but it was also your last day at this house. After Julie’s little midnight run in you had a really hard time going back to sleep, so you started to pack up and then got tired around 6am before passing out for a few hours. It was nearing midday when you woke up again because of the commotion in the kitchen. You washed up and then headed out and greeted your family who were barely starting their first meal of the day. You had just finished fixing your plate up when you saw Harry and Julie approaching hand in hand. They were all smiles as they talked while taking their time to make it to the main house. It was so believable to see them like that, it made your stomach drop. And then you felt that ache in your chest that made your throat start to swell up in that familiar way it always did when you were sure to cry. 

“Looks like everything’s back to normal.” You heard your mom say before you just forced your gaze away and focused back on the task at hand. Whatever the hell was going on right now, you didn’t want it in your face, so you were planning on sneaking away to your bedroom to eat but where soon called out.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Your aunt asked loudly just as your sister and Harry made it inside. “Come eat with us! It’s our last day.” She insisted with an eager smile. But you were just glancing at Harry who immediately found a way to untangle his hand from Julie’s, but only to pull her into his side. You looked back at your aunt, ready to decline.

“Exactly! Our last day here. We should eat together.” Your father added in decidedly.

“Okay.” You said and found your seat between him and your aunt. 

To say that the PDA was on between Harry and your sister, felt like an understatement. This was reminiscent of the when they first started dating. At that time you were very observant and vigilant around Harry. He was new to your lives and you wanted to ensure that his actions matched his words. And obviously, they did and he absolutely fawned over your sister in a way that made you jealous. You were seldom jealous of her but when it came to this kind of attention, she always seemed to be the lucky one. The way her lovers would dote on her and adore her was unfamiliar to you. You hadn’t had that before. You’d always landed the worst people, wolves in sheep’s clothing. You had started to wonder if maybe there was something wrong with you because the way he was looking at her, whether it was genuine or not, was not something you had experienced before. And you wanted it so badly. You finished eating quickly and then slipped away, not wanting to have to look at that, at him, any longer. 

After a while, you heard everyone starting to head out to swim and you decided to stop being a party poor and join in. You had just stepped out of your bedroom when Harry stepped out of his room.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” You responded.

“Look, about earlier-”

“No, don’t worry about it.” You shook your head, “It’s a me thing. You did nothing wrong.” You assured him.

“I’m still sorry.” He said and you smiled slightly.

“I must admit…I was a little…jealous too.” You confessed.

“Don’t be.”

“It’s just…always been a little neck and neck with us…a lot of comparisons and competition… so I just…get insecure around her sometimes.” You said as you looked down between you and focused on a spot on the floor. Confessing this to him was hard enough, you would be writhing in discomfort if you held eye contact.

“Look at me.” He insisted. “C’mon.” He insisted and you glanced up into his eyes and smiled at him and then he just surged forward and kissed you passionately. You were lost in it for a few moments before pulling away.

“Not smart.”

“I know, sorry.” He hummed and gave you one final smooch before pulling back. You then just looked at each other for a few moments and then you surged forward and grabbed his jaw and just as you started to tiptoe to reach him you heard a gasp and froze.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You heard your sister question angrily. 

“Jules, just leave it.” Harry cut in as you turned around. 

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking-”

“No! You weren’t! What the fuck?!” She whisper shouted. “I knew it!” She seethed. “Whatever the fuck this is, it ends with this trip.” She asserted, looking between the two of you. “I know that I fucked up but that’s still my husband.” She said to you directly now and you nodded.  “And you’ve been sabotaging me, haven’t you? To get to him?” She asked and you scoffed.

“No!”

“it’s not like that.” Harry chimed in and she glanced to him. “Don’t even act offended or territorial over me. You don’t love me.” He reminded her and she clenched her jaw.

“Whether we’re divorced or not, that’s still my sister. It’s fucked up.” She said. “This all ends here.” She stated firmly before rushing off. Your eyes met Harry’s in concern and he shook his head.

“It’ll be okay. It’ll all work out.” He assured you.

“I hope so.”

“It will. It’ll be our Christmas miracle.” He said with a small smile and your own smile started to spread over your lips. 

“Okay.” You whispered, deciding to believe him in that moment. You had to believe that everything would work out exactly as it should. These twelve days had been absolutely perfect and it couldn’t end there. There was definitely more to him. To you. And to what you could be together.

NEXT PART...

---- TAG LIST ----

@daphnesutton @mads3502 @triski73 @xoxxjada @fangirl509east @stylesftcher @charlottesrecommendations @taintedwonderland-blog @goobernickle @loverofhsandallthings1d

[ijustmissyouraccenths]

Pillow Wall

Where Harry wants to blame the cold or the mattress or her gravity, but the truth is, he just sleeps better wrapped up in her.

Word count: 1,357

Every night, they start the same way.

Harry climbs into bed first, flops onto his side with a groan like it’s been the longest day in the world—even if it hasn’t. Y/N follows a minute later, switching off the lamp, the room going soft and quiet.

He shifts to the far edge of his side. She mirrors him on hers. A whole country between them.

“G’night, love,” he says, muffled into his pillow.

“’Night,” she replies, already halfway to sleep.

Sometimes he’ll add something dumb, like “Don’t steal the covers,” even though she never does. Or, “Don’t kick me,” even though it’s his foot that always ends up on her side.

They face away from each other. No touching. No cuddling. No crossing the invisible line.

It’s not a cold thing—it’s just how it is. She likes her space. He says he sleeps better without limbs on him. It works.

At least until morning.

Because every single day, without fail, Y/N wakes up with Harry practically glued to her.

This morning, it’s worse than usual. He’s managed to wedge himself between her arm and chest, face smushed against her collarbone, one leg thrown across her hips like he’s trying to claim territory. His breath is warm and slow against her skin. Peaceful. Way too comfortable for someone who swears he needs “distance to function.”

She blinks at the ceiling for a second, lips twitching.

“Again?” she mumbles, mostly to herself.

Harry stirs, groaning like someone’s just disturbed his royal slumber.

“You dragged me in,” he mumbles without opening his eyes. “Every time. Like a bloody magnet.”

She snorts. “Sure I did.”

His arms tighten just slightly around her, and then he goes still again, already drifting back off.

Liar, she thinks.

It keeps happening.

The next morning, she wakes up with his nose buried in her neck and his hand resting casually under her shirt, palm flat against her stomach like he belongs there. He’s snoring lightly, and his leg is hooked around hers in a way that makes it physically impossible to move without waking him.

She lies there for a minute, not quite annoyed, not quite amused—just… baffled. Again.

“Harry,” she whispers, shifting just enough to make a point.

“Mm?” His voice is rough, still half in a dream. “Cold. You pulled me in.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Did too.”

She sighs. He’s not even trying anymore.

Morning three, she wakes up practically spooning him. His back is to her, but her arm is slung around his waist, his fingers lazily twined with hers, like they fell asleep mid-conversation. Like this is just what they do.

She pulls her hand back slowly, like she’s dealing with a wild animal, and rolls onto her side. He follows her instinctively, still asleep, reaching for her even as she escapes.

By the time she gets up to brush her teeth, he’s taken over her pillow and curled into the spot where she was like a cat chasing warmth.

“Menace,” she mutters under her breath.

The next day, she wakes up nose-to-nose with him. Full frontal cuddle. His knee between her thighs, his arms around her like they’ve been in the middle of some intense, slow-motion hug all night. His lips are slightly parted, curls a mess, breath hitting her chin in soft little waves.

She doesn’t move. Doesn’t even try.

“You okay down there?” she whispers.

His eyes barely crack open. “Would be better if you’d stop yanking me in like a sleep-deprived octopus.”

She just stares at him. “You seriously think I’m the one doing this?”

“Babe,” he says, voice low and hoarse, “I’m a victim.”

Then he presses his face back into her neck and falls asleep again.

A smug, snoring victim.

It happens again on a Thursday.

She wakes up with his entire body sprawled on top of hers. His head is tucked beneath her chin, his arms wrapped under her back, and somehow, he’s managed to get one of his feet under her calf like he’s trying to anchor her in place.

She’s had enough.

“Harry,” she says, sharp this time.

“Mmmph.”

“Get off me.”

He groans, buries his face deeper into her chest like that’ll help. “Why’re you so loud?”

“Because you are a liar,” she says, untangling her arm and smacking his shoulder with it. “You keep blaming me for this. Every morning. Like I’m the one dragging your six-foot ass across the bed in my sleep.”

He doesn’t respond right away. Just exhales, long and dramatic.

“Look at this,” she gestures, even though his eyes are still shut. “You’re fully on top of me. There is no way I pulled you into this.”

He cracks one eye open. “You’re warm.”

“Oh my god.”

“You’re warm,” he repeats, like that explains everything. “And you smell nice. And sometimes I wake up a little and think, ‘Cuddles would be good,’ and then I just… do it.”

She gapes at him. “So you admit it.”

“I’m only human, Y/N.”

She smacks him with a pillow.

He grins into her shirt. Doesn’t even pretend to move.

Later that night, she makes a big production out of it.

“I’m putting a pillow wall between us,” she announces, tossing one of the big decorative ones from the couch onto the bed and propping it upright between them. “You stay on your side. No trespassing. I mean it.”

Harry watches her from his side, already under the covers, biting back a smile.

“Alright,” he says, hands up in surrender. “Message received. No cuddles. Ever again.”

“Exactly,” she says, climbing in. “Cuddle embargo. Effective immediately.”

“Harsh but fair.”

“Thank you.”

She clicks off the lamp. Silence falls.

For two minutes.

Then—

“I just think,” he says quietly, “you’re being a bit dramatic about how much you love me.”

She groans into her pillow. “Harry.”

“Can’t help that you’re clingy in your sleep. I’m the victim here, remember?”

She tosses a hand over the pillow wall and hits him in the face without looking.

He laughs. “That’s assault.”

She stays silent. Firm. Unmoving. She’s serious this time.

Until morning.

Because, of course, when she wakes up, the pillow wall is gone—mysteriously vanished—and Harry is back where he always ends up: wrapped around her like he belongs there, like it’s instinct. Like neither of them ever meant the distance in the first place.

She doesn’t bother waking him. Just lies there, hand idly brushing through his hair.

She’ll rebuild the wall tonight. Maybe.

Probably not.

[pinkboaclub]

Musician Ex-Boyfriend

Summery: You and Harry are exes, on the day of your wedding, he pays you a visit, causing you to rethink things.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: smut, cheating (not on Harry), fem!reader

"You look perfect."

You turned at the sound of his voice, and there he stood—Harry, in a sharp black, the sincerity on his face was palpable.

It was your wedding day, but not the one you’d envisioned. The love of your life wasn’t the man currently getting ready. No, he was standing in the doorway, on the verge of being caught.

You’d snuck away to collect yourself. You’d told your bridesmaids all day that you were close to tears from happiness, but that wasn’t the truth. It was fear, anxiety, regret—things you’d spent months ignoring, burying under a carefully constructed smile.

You quickly scanned the open room, making sure no one could see him.

“You can’t be here,” you said, your voice tight with urgency as you strode over to him, heels clicking sharply against the hardwood. “If someone sees you, they’ll start talking, they’ll—”

Before you could finish, Harry grabbed your arm, pulling you into the empty hallway. His hands found your waist, pulling you into him, his warmth and familiar scent filling your senses. You glanced over your shoulder, your heart racing as you checked again. No one was around.

"Harry, please," you whispered, trying to steady your breath, feeling the sting of tears rise again. "This isn’t right."

"I didn’t think you would go through with it." His voice was flat, emotionless, his eyes avoiding yours.

You swallowed, the weight of his words sinking in. You had met Harry when you were both 25. It was supposed to be casual—two people who shared a love for music, books, and movies. He’d been on tour with his band, and you’d happened to be in the same restaurant with friends when they all decided to head to a club. That’s where you two started talking, the connection immediate, as if you’d known each other forever.

The texts started right after, every day, just a few words at first, then entire conversations that lasted into the early hours of the morning. His tour ended, and soon enough, long-distance visits turned into real dates. Three years of love, laughter, and dreams of a future together. A future that seemed so certain until life, with all its complexity and distance, pulled you apart.

It wasn’t sudden. It was gradual—the small, constant strain that turned into arguments about who was too busy, who wasn’t putting in enough effort. And then, finally, the break-up. The day you sat on the couch in your shared home, too many unsaid words filling the air, the silence louder than anything you could say.

“I love you so much and I don’t think I’ll ever stop,” Harry had sobbed, turning toward you with pleading eyes. You didn’t answer, unable to speak through your own tears.

You didn’t even know how it had happened, but you went from sitting on your couch crying, to laying on the couch, kissing with drying tears on your cheeks, ripping each other's clothes off. Maybe it was a last resort to salvage something, maybe it was an intense goodbye, you never really knew.

After that, you stayed friends. You kept up the pretense for everyone else. Friends, family—they all still thought you’d get back together. Harry even brought it up a few times, and you’d feel that pull, that ache in your chest. Of course, you thought about it. How could you not? But the idea of losing him again, of having to grieve the loss for a second time, felt unbearable.

And yet, here he was, on the most important day of your life, not as the man you were about to marry, but as the man you once thought you’d spend forever with.

“I have to,” you said, your voice a little softer this time. “I have to marry him.”

“Why?” Harry’s voice cracked, his frustration palpable. “Why him? Why do you need to? Nobody believes you actually want this.” His eyes searched yours, desperate, pleading for something.

You didn’t have an answer that would make sense to him—or to yourself. All you knew was that your future, the one you’d once pictured with Harry, had slipped away, and now the only choice left was the one that terrified you the most.

You stood there, caught between two worlds—two versions of yourself, each one tugging you in a different direction. Harry’s eyes stared into yours, demanding something you couldn’t give. You wished you could explain it all to him, but the words were stuck in your throat.

“I do want this,” you said, though you weren’t sure if you believed it. “But... I don’t know how to explain it. I’ve tried to move on. I’ve tried to do the right thing, and I’ve convinced myself it’s what I want. But—” You stopped yourself before the tears could fall. “I don’t know what else to do.”

Harry’s hands were still around you, his grip tight, like he was trying to pull you into a reality where the two of you could make it work. But it wasn’t that simple. You’d both changed, grown in ways that made that dream of forever feel distant, impossible.

“I just wanted you to know,” Harry’s voice softened. “That I never stopped loving you. I never stopped hoping… I didn’t think you would go through with this. Not like this.”

Your chest tightened at the words. They hit harder than you anticipated. “I know,” you whispered. “I didn’t think I could either. But… I need to. For me.”

“For him, you mean,” Harry corrected, his tone heavy with something you couldn’t quite place. Hurt? Anger? Maybe both. But there was a quiet desperation in his voice that made it hard to breathe.

You hesitated. “He’s a good man. And I do love him. I do. But it’s not... the same.”

Harry’s jaw clenched at your words, but he didn’t pull away. He just stared at you, his eyes dark, like they were holding back everything he wanted to say.

“You’re lying to yourself,” he said softly, almost too quietly for you to hear. “You’re pretending because it’s easier than facing the truth. You know it’s not right. But you’re too scared to admit it.”

The weight of his words made your heart skip a beat. You shook your head, trying to dismiss the gnawing feeling in your gut, the one that told you he was right.

“I’m not scared,” you said, but the words felt hollow. “I’m just trying to do the right thing.”

Harry took a step closer, his voice urgent now, low and rough. “What if the right thing isn’t what you’ve convinced yourself it is? What if you’re meant to be with me?”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, it was like time stopped. His presence enveloped you—the same pull you’d felt all those years ago, that same undeniable chemistry that had made you fall in love with him in the first place. But now, everything is different.

“I can’t,” you said, more to yourself than to him. “I can’t go through that again, Harry. I can’t lose you and have to pick up the pieces of me after. I don’t think I’d survive it a second time.”

“I’d never hurt you again,” he promised, his voice cracking with emotion. “I swear. I’d never let you go, not like I did before. Please, just—just think about it. Really think about what you’re about to do.”

The silence stretched between you two, heavy with everything that had been left unsaid.

Finally, you spoke, your voice trembling. “I can’t do this right now, Harry. Not today. Not when I’m about to be married, something I’ve promised to commit to. Please… just go.”

His face fell, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he stepped back, looking at you one last time, his expression full of pain and love and the remnants of hope.

“Okay,” he whispered. “But I’ll always be here, waiting for you. No matter what.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the hallway, the echo of his footsteps still ringing in your ears.

You stood there for what felt like an eternity, your mind spinning with everything Harry had just said. His words—his love, his pain—still hung in the air, refusing to dissipate.

But you had made a promise. To him, to yourself, and to the man you were about to marry. You had to keep moving forward, even if it felt like you were walking into the unknown.

You wiped the tears from your eyes, taking a deep breath as you turned to face the door at the end of the hall. The moment was passing, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that, somehow, it wasn’t over. Not yet.

The sharp click of another pair of heels echoed from the other end of the hall, and you barely registered it before Aaliyah rounded the corner, her expression a mixture of relief and concern.

“There you are! I was starting to think I’d lost you for good! I-what’s wrong?” She halted in her tracks, eyes scanning your face, a frown forming as she looked at the tear stains streaking down your cheeks.

You quickly wiped your face, not caring that your makeup was surely ruined. "I—uhm," you faltered, struggling to find the words. "I’m just... nervous."

You almost told her everything. You wanted to. Aaliyah had been there for you through all of it—through the endless debates over whether or not you should try again with Harry. She knew the truth. She’d always known. But today wasn’t the day for honesty. Today was for pretending, for keeping the peace, for stepping into the life you thought you’d chosen.

“Oh, I know it’s stressful, but it’ll all be okay!” Aaliyah said, wrapping her arms around you in a comforting hug. You leaned into her warmth, her helping for only a moment. "I think I just need a little more time alone. To clear my head. Maybe go up to my room for a bit, have some water, a snack, you know?"

She hesitated for a split second, her eyes lingering on you as if she could see right through your smile, but she nodded, understanding your need for space. “Alright, I’ll stay down here. Just… don’t stay away too long, okay?”

“Promise,” you said, offering a small smile as you hugged her back, then hurried past her, your heels clicking against the floor as you made your way toward the elevator.

You had rented a hotel suite for the bridal party to get ready, a place where you could unwind and prepare. Your fiancée had his own room, staying with his groomsmen, where they were now. You had also reserved a hotel room for you and your fiancé to stay in before your honey moon in two days… so, now you had a free room to be alone in—well, almost alone.

As soon as you stepped into the room, you closed the door behind you with a soft click. You slowly slipped off the silk robe you’d been wearing, the one that said “Bride” in sparkling letters across your back, and traded it for the simple hotel robe draped on the back of the bathroom door.

Then you pulled out your phone, scrolling far down your contacts. Your thumb hesitated for just a second before you started typing.

“If you’re still in the hotel, I’m on floor 4, room 415. If you meant what you said, I’ll be here, waiting.”

A sharp knock at the door made you jump. Your heart pounded in your chest as you forced your legs to move toward it, each step heavy and unsteady. When you opened the door, there he stood, his brow furrowed with concern.

"I can't marry him," you murmured, barely audible. The weight of the words broke something inside you, and tears began to spill down your cheeks.

Without hesitation, Harry stepped forward, pulling you into his arms. He closed the door softly behind him, the world outside suddenly fading away. You clung to him, your sobs muffled against his shoulder, as if his presence was the only thing keeping you in reality.

When you finally pulled away, your eyes locked, searching for the words you had meant to say. But they escaped you. Instead, with a sudden, desperate impulse, you pressed your lips to his. The kiss was everything you’d missed, everything you’d been longing for—and it felt like home.

"I am scared by how much I want this, how much I want you." You finally said after you pulled away from your kiss. Harry tucked your hair behind your ear, taking a moment to admire your features before speaking.

“I don’t want you to be scared of me…of us…because I know-I know it would work this time. Were not as young, we know how to balance our schedules, and we know what it’s like to not be with each other. I love you so much Y/N”

Before you could cry anymore, you caved in to everything you knew you wanted. You kissed him again, this time leading him to the hotel bed.

"I am devoted to you," He murmurs as he unties your robe, his eyes not leaving your face. You both lay back. He watches the way your eyes widen when he moves one hand between your thighs to tenderly touch your core. "Let me please you," He knows he sounds needy, but he can't help it as he looks upon the woman he would do anything for.

“Please do.”

He took his eyes from your face and let them travel down your body, this was the first time he had seen you like this since you had broken up. He took in every inch of you, your beautiful bra-clad breasts, your rapidly moving stomach as you breathed. Then, your legs. Your left leg had a white lace garter belt on it. His hand slowly traveled up until he got to the garter belt.

“Supposed to be a tradition…a very odd one.” You broke the silence.

“I’m not complaining.”

He slowly pulled off the belt, your underwear following it.

He moves forward and leaves a trail of kisses along the soft skin of your abdomen and then down over your quivering thighs as his hand moves between your legs, letting his finger slip into you.

After watching the first drop of your arousal slide down his index finger, he had enough. He pulls his hand back and grips your thighs to keep you still while his mouth devours you.

Your soft little moans and attempts at saying his name make him grip you tighter, using his tongue in even more intricate ways just to coax out more of your sweetness, more of your angelic sounds. He squeezes one of your thighs and then slides his hand up along your side until his hand finds yours. He twines your fingers together, and then he gets back to devouring you like he was starving.

"I need more, Harry, please," You beg so prettily that he considers asking you to do so again, but he feels like it would be cruel after you’ve been so patient.

"Of course,"

He kisses you deeply to drown the pained whimper when he pushes his cock inside you without a pause, thinking it’s best if he gets the painful part over with as fast as possible. He grunts against your mouth as your nails dig into his shoulders. He stays still and kisses away your tears until you start laughing beneath him.

You’re the one who indicates that he is allowed to move by grinding your hips up against his. He hums in understanding and starts to thrust into you again. You too get lost as he find a perfect rhythm.

He flips you over with one quick motion after he has watched your breasts bounce for too many agonising moments without being able to do anything with them, his mouth becomes focused on them, finding the spots that make you cry out his name as loudly as you could.

“Fuck, baby.” He says, admiring your body continuously bouncing up and down. You move quicker at his encouraging words, riding him faster than you thought you could.

He takes one of your breasts in his mouth, twisting his tongue around your nipple, kneading the other with his hand.

You rock your hips back and forth, feeling the familiar surge of warmth spread through your body like—the same warmth he could only give you, one that was 10x stronger than your fiancé could have ever given you.

Your orgasm soon followed. You didn’t care about how loud you were. You didn’t care if someone walked in right now, you’d almost prefer it, maybe it would be your fiancé, or someone you both knew, they would tell him you snuck up to your room to ride the musician ex boyfriend, then you wouldn’t have to do it yourself.

“I-fuck Harry, it’s…” You stop, letting yourself moan from the euphoria you’re feeling. “It’s so good.” You finally spit out.

He chuckles at your inability to properly express your blissful feelings and tangles his fingers in your hair to pull you down for a deep kiss. He lets out a low groan as your fingers dig into his chest, followed by the shuddering of your body and the clenching of your walls around him that prompt him to spill his cum inside you.

"Fuck," he mutters as he tears his mouth away from yours. He knows neither of you should have done that, however, as Harry looks up at your blissed expression, he does not regret it, not one bit.

His arms wrap around your torso, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. He lightly rubbed his fingers up and down your back. The only thing that could be heard in the room was your heavy breathing.

“I love you, Harry.”

[maudie-duan]

Summary: What starts as a sweet and innocent crush ends with you finally getting your hands on the guys you've been eyeing for months.

Paring: Frat!Harry X (Fem)Reader

Tags: @sassamanda77 @loverofhsandallthings1d @styless-syndrome @carolinaastyles

Word Count: 10K

A/N: This was based on this CONCEPT<- from the wonderful @hesbunnies This a bit of a slow burn but so worth the finish!

Warnings: 18+FLUFF/SMUT(Language, alcohol use, light peer pressure, light public humiliation, size kink, talks of oral sex/ oral sex (m) receiving, brief spit talk, light Dom Frat!Harry behavior, protected sex, hair-pulling...) I think that's it. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

It started as innocent. 

Sweet.

A playground crush, the kind you held like a treasure.

A glimpse from across the room, the cute boy you have that one class with.

Tuesday and Thursday.

All it took was one glance to lock that secret inside. You held it near like you were waiting for a rainy day, the chance to hold out your tongue and pray that tiny gumdrops would fall from the sky. 

That day, you took your seat, setting yourself up for that morning’s lecture, slightly hungover from the night before. You knew that you had dealt with worse, that you could push through it, but that didn’t stop you from forcing your headphones into your ears and putting your head down to rest your cheek against the cool surface of the desk. 

As the song changed, you caught the pitch of the professor’s voice, and you lifted your head just as Harry walked in, barely making it to class on time, the two of you locking eyes immediately. The second you made the connection, his presence stole your focus, the song pouring into your ears ushering him in like it was meant for this very moment, your gaze following as he found a seat. 

When he didn’t look away, neither did you because with a face like that, how could you? 

Especially once you noticed that slight little smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, he had you captivated, and that’s when you realized you were smiling, your eyes darting away as fast as you could, but it was too late because just as your eyes moved away, you caught a glimpse of the smile that little smirk had turned into.

 You knew you were screwed.

So fucking screwed.

It was like once you saw him, you saw him everywhere. 

The campus coffee shop was your favorite place to glimpse him, see him out in the wild, in the untamed setting that didn’t confine you both to a classroom. He had just started working there, a startling site to see the first time you saw him behind the counter. 

That’s where you noticed his dimples for the first time, his green eyes, the rasp in his voice when he called out your drink, and you had to suffer your way to the counter, too shy to meet his eyes, just bold enough to mutter “Thanks,” because him taking your order at the register was all you could handle, and as you pushed through the door, you peeked over your shoulder, Harry’s eyes on you, and you were grateful for the chill of the day, the cold air settling over your flushed face. 

You were already hooked, and you knew it.

The dining hall was fun; those were the times you got to see him come alive. When he was no longer in a role but hanging with his friends, not a care in the world but eating—He was silly, boyish in the way he shoveled food in his mouth as a laugh spilled out, mouth-filled conversations, jokes being passed around, a pat on the back here and there—boys, being boys, but not in the barbaric way you pictured, just having a good time. 

And god, there were so many glances, the stolen glance from across the class, Harry never sitting in one spot, but always in your line of sight somehow, the back of his head, a side profile, sometimes at the end of your row, only capturing a glimpse of him from your peripheral view, and if you dared to sneak a peek, of course, his eyes would catch you, and you would have to play it off like you weren’t seeking those green eyes out.

You swore your eyes were magnets for his, like he was seeking yours, too. This gut-deep feeling, sickly sweet, that churned deep in the boom of your belly, always leaving you wanting more.

The more details you gathered from afar, the more you picked up on his charm, and dammit, it was so effortless, his presence sugary sweet, coating your insides like cotton candy fluff, each sugary layer dissolving on the tip of your tongue, the moment it came in contact because with the charm came the girls, and fuck, there were so many girls vying for his attention, the girls just as consumed by the tattoos and skinny jeans.

You realized this made you no different than the girls huddled close in the library watching him walk by, you snagging fragments of their hushed conversation, the topic of his hidden tattoos, that so and so had hooked up with him last week, and he was even hotter in bed.

The thought instantly consumed you and sent you reeling—adding yet another hopeless layer to dissect.

Luckily for you, your roommate Lena seemed to be hitting it off with one of his best buddies, which gave you an in because that was the first time he gave you a nod of recognition—a sweet little morsel you almost missed because you were so caught up in the words drifting behind you that you barely caught the smile he left you with as he shoved a hand in his pocket and strolled out of the library.

For days, you sat floating on a fluffy pastel daydream, his smile the only thing you could see, and that’s when your looks became intentional, not just a hopeful glance, but a direct line of sight.

For months, you spun the idea of Harry in your mind, each thought starting off sweet, sometimes heating up—a low simmer, a carmelized daydream spinning into thin strands of candied floss, a clouded haze of fluff you were dying to devour. 

And he never let you down because there he was feeding you those tiny morsels, like sucking on a lemon drop—sweet and sour—a treat that took its time to melt in your mouth. A “Hi” here, an “I’ll see you around” there—the art of Lena now dating his friend paying off when you found Harry sitting on your couch one day after class. 

You remembered this because the vision would haunt you for days to come as you felt his eyes follow you to your room. Harry was still in sight when you reached for the door, and as you turned the knob and stepped inside, you stole one last look, his gaze still trained on you, then he disappeared as you entered your room, his curious glance making your heart pound in your chest. 

And when the early evening turned to night. You stayed in your room because you knew you wouldn’t be able to play it cool, and as the noise picked up down the hallway, you laid there in bed, memorizing the way his deep voice echoed in your tiny apartment, and swore one day he would be in your bed.

Another night, you found yourself in the backseat with Harry, him grabbing a ride with his buddy, and Lena, dragging you along, and although you put on a show of not wanting to join, deep down, you knew Harry would be there. 

 This was another memorable night, playing out in your head so fucking clear because you were so nervous. You remembered sliding into the backseat, thinking Lena would be joining you, but then Harry made it a point to give Lena the front seat, and the second he slid in, it was like he stole the oxygen straight from your lungs. 

This was the closest you guys had ever been, only a shallow gap sitting between you both. You felt yourself straightening in your seat, lengthening your spine so you could take a decent breath, a silent intake of air that you held in your lungs as your body went still, your heart hammering in your chest after you muttered a quick “Hey.” 

And there was silence until there was music. 

The car ride was long, and no one wanted to play DJ, so Lena made you plug in your phone. Lena had put you on the spot, exposing you like a gutted fish. At least, that’s what it felt like, so you chose a recent playlist you had just made—later you would learn that this was also the night something shifted between you and Harry.

You kept overthinking every song that came on, a true act of vulnerability as each song came and went, and then there was that one song, the song you had been playing on a loop, the song that made you think of Harry, an upbeat tune with lyrics that made you melt at the idea of him, and out of nowhere, Harry asks:

“What’s the name of this song?” His voice woody as he cleared his throat, the silence taking its toll.

You pretended you didn’t know, even though you felt the title at the tip of your tongue as soon as he asked. Once you swiped open the screen, the title was there. You watched Harry pull out his phone and enter it into his search, adding it to his favorites. Then, he asked if he could look through the list, so you gently handed him your phone, your hand shaky, trying not to unplug the aux it was attached to. 

Giving him your phone was like giving him an extension of yourself, and there it was in his hands.

All you could do was watch, holding your breath until you decided to let it go; you falling back into your seat as he scrolled through the list, the blue light of the screen glowing over his face. You observed a smile ghost over his lips, making your chest tight with excitement, and you had to turn away as you exhaled a weighted breath, the tension tight in your body, your phone in his hands now a tether between you both.

The next time you saw him in class, he sat right next to you.

You were stunned, a slow smile spreading across your face as he dropped his bag onto the table, and you looked up at him. You knew you must have had a strange expression because he asked, “What? Is it not cool if I sit here?” And he smiled, that smile when both dimples show, and you nod your head, his green eyes searching your face, leaving you with nothing to do but smile.

From then on, he sat next to you every Tuesday and Thursday, always something to look forward to, that crush even more persistent the closer you got to him—a low whisper in your ear when he leaned over to crack a joke about something the professor said, or the times his arm would graze yours. Yet, another memory to add to the collection—the first time it happened, you subtly pulled away, his touch sending a jolt up your spine, a running chill over your skin as the tingle remained the longer you kept your focus on the touch. 

On another occasion, when it happened again, you waited to see if he would pull away, but he never did. As you slowly drew your arm away, you held your breath, and the feeling of your skin dragging against his heated you from within, sending a fluttering bloom to the depths of your belly.

Your resolve was starting to waver, and you knew it.

Your face had to be giving you away, the warmth filling your cheeks, burning as you tucked your hands into your lap, and you sat there perfectly still, leaning back into your chair like you were completely unphased by it all. You slowed your breath then, in through your nose, an even slower release, and you wondered how long you could go on like this, the room narrowing, Harry’s close proximity stirring the atmosphere of the room.

You were only aware of him and his every movement.

And when his knee knocked into yours, you bit down on your lower lip, your eyes flicking to his knee, now pressed against yours, and with every ounce of bravery you had, you chanced the smallest of looks at Harry—there he was, smiling the faintest of smiles down at his paper, his pen moving as if nothing was happening, even though your whole body was buzzing with it, and then you did something crazy, something completely out of character. You lean forward, resting your cheek in the palm of your hand, elbow pressing into the desk, and you look him dead in the eye, sending him a playful smirk, and your hand smoothes over his knee, the move undetectable to those around you, but you knew, and you let your hand rest, the bold move sending a spark between your legs, that tension a growing knot in the pit of your stomach. 

What you weren’t expecting was for Harry to grasp hold of your hand, a quick squeeze, and then he was slowly dragging your hand up his inner thigh, stopping right before the crotch of his jeans, but you felt the warmth, the shock running through you like electricity, your head spinning as he flattened your hand against the top of his thigh, the tips of your fingers grazing near the mound between his legs, giving his inner thigh a light squeeze, and Harry pushed out a low laugh, his eyes flicking to yours, and you couldn’t stop the smile rising as you gazed back at him.

That’s when you knew you wanted him, no matter what it took.

Then, the professor was ending the lecture, the class beginning to stir, but neither of you moved, and when people began to stand around you, you gave his thigh one last squeeze, moving your grip deeper, your pinky brushing the inner seam of his jeans, and Harry sucked in a quick breath, a wide smile on his face as his hand grasped hold of yours and he squeezed your hand hard, pulling it away, and he bit down on his lower lip, scooting his chair back.

“Soon…” He whispered.

That was Thursday.

So on Saturday, when Lena asked if you wanted to go to the guy’s house for a little get together, you knew that was your chance; you knew this night would be different because Harry wanted it too. 

“Soon,” He said; the low tone of his voice dripped down your spine like a sugary glaze that you had to live with for almost two whole days with no plan. A single word looming over your candied haze, your mouth going dry at the thought. You kept thinking of that look, him biting down on his lip, the vision caking your mind, and now every passing thought was honeyed with his intentions.

You felt the pull deep in your body, a dull throb between your legs as you stood there, eyeing Harry from across the room, but you didn’t want to look desperate, so you kept yourself busy, thankful that Lena made you guys pregame before you came because it didn’t take long for your drink to start catching up, and it was welcomed because you needed the delusional courage you knew the alcohol would bring.

There were more people than Lena put on. You stood there thinking you would never get your chance with Harry, and it was understandable, but you couldn’t go one more day without a definite green light, without at least the taste of those heart-shaped lips pressed to yours, and you waited, so patient, so calm, so fucking unbothered by the many girls, flitting around, trying to capture his attention. 

How many times was he going to catch your eye and not make a move because you knew without a doubt you weren’t going to be the one? 

You were technically the one who made the first move, so he was going to have to give. So what’s another round of cat and mouse? You thought, taking another drink, Harry still eyeing you at every chance, ignoring the girl talking at him with desperation every time she flipped her hair over her shoulder, then you smiled into your cup, taking one more drink before you turned away, knowing Harry had his eyes on you no matter where you roamed around the room.

You liked this, this subtle power you knew you had over him; you had what he wanted, that much was clear, and when he finally made his way to you, you felt it.

His eyes traveling down your body spoke volumes, that cocky grin lingering as he took your drink from your hand, and he started toward the drinks, that invisible tether back, pulling from within as you felt the longing stretch through your entire body.

This was it,

this was going to happen.

 But how do you get there?

“So you’re not going to talk to me, huh?” Harry asked, handing you a full cup of something red, swishing around in your cup, and when you brought it to your mouth. Harry watched you, waiting for an answer as you shrugged your shoulders, the sweet taste of punch coating your tongue, spurring that cotton candy daydream to life as you gazed into his eyes.

“I was waiting for you to talk to me, sir,” You tell him, nudging his arm as your eyes flit over his top, a sheer material, leaving nothing to the imagination, and when you peep the vailed butterfly at the center of his chest, your eyes dart to his, then back, and you poke a lazy finger into the center of his shirt, and he laughs, taking hold of the tip of your finger. 

Just then, Lena calls your name from across the room, ripping your attention from Harry, and you pull your finger from his grasp, feeling like you just got caught doing something naughty, and even if you weren’t, you knew you wanted to, and your cheeks burned with it.

“You guys…” Lena shouts, “You too, Harry…” and when you look to Harry, he too is like a deer in headlights, pointing to himself like he has no idea what his name is.

“Come play guys…” Harry’s buddy yells, pulling Lena onto his lap, and the shame of your thoughts has you moving, not wanting to draw any more attention to you and Harry.

 What the both of you didn’t know was that they were playing Truth or Dare, and you had that sinking feeling already that you knew you were screwed because you guys weren’t kids anymore, and now there was alcohol involved. 

The first couple of rounds weren’t bad; you chose Dare right off the bat, thinking a bold move would mean they would go easy, and that they did. The dare was to take a shot; that was easy. Harry, on the other hand, was playing it safe; while you chose Dare three times, he chose truth, uttering things from his mouth that made you blush because, of course, each question was loaded.

 Who didn’t like a good dirty secret? 

By the fifth round, it was Harry’s turn again, and when he chose Truth, his buddy interjected and told him he had to choose Dare. When Harry smiled, your stomach dropped because his friend wasn’t budging, and so he took it, eyes flitting past you as they moved to his friend—it just took that split second of attention to rally every nerve in your body because, let’s face it…you were tipsy, teetering on the edge of drunkenness, and so was he. 

You could see it in his glossy green eyes, that lazy smirk that hadn’t left his mouth, the way he kept getting closer, the two of you shoulder to shoulder, even though there was plenty of space on either side of you both, that innocent touch making the room vibrate, buzz with the anticipation of how you wanted this night to end—it had to be with him, it had to be underneath, on top of him, his face between your legs, it didn’t matter, at this point you would even drop to your knees for him

But what do they say? Be careful what you wish for. Because the next thing you know, Harry’s buddy is giving the dare, telling Harry to pick someone to waterfall a can of beer into their mouth, and you’re so caught up in the idea of beer being a shit choice that you don’t even realize everyone is staring at you until you see that cunning smile Harry is giving you, and when your eyes flick to Lena she’s nodding her head, one of those, yeah you looks, then Harry grabs your arm, your whole body heating as your eyes dart around the circle of people staring back at you.

Your legs are stiff as Harry pulls you near, his buddy handing him a cold beer, your gaze trained on the can now in Harry’s hands. It’s all moving so fast, catcalls ringing around you, the energy of everyone picking up, gearing up to watch the show you’re about to put on for them because it’s fight or flight, and you’re sticking to it.

When Harry drops your arm, it’s like lightning tearing through your body, your eyes darting to his as the crisp sound of the tab bursts open, the cream-colored froth spilling over the edge of the can. You both glance down, Harry extending it further away so he doesn’t get any on his boots. Even though you’re not a fan of the taste of beer, you know the ice-cold liquid would cool you down because your body is on fire, heat creeping through you—should you be mortified? You’re not sure, but when Harry’s eyes return to yours, you swallow hard, your heartbeat pounding in your throat. 

You’re willing your nerves not to show as your eyes sweep over Harry’s face. Then he leans in and says, “I’ll go slow…don’t worry…”

You let out a small laugh, your hand finding his wrist as he pushes his hand into your waist, sending a raspy laugh into your ear while the tip of his nose brushes against your earlobe, and it’s dizzying. The only thing keeping you balanced is your grip on his wrist because, holy shit, you’re really going to follow through with it, and just as you tip your head back, Lena yells, “On your knees, bitch—” your eyes go wide, and Harry gives your waist a little squeeze as he pushes you back, opening up space for you to kneel before him.

His smile is teasing, spurring you on, keeping that flame burning within, but little does he know you’re about to make him pay, make him suffer, make him weak—water the seed you planted that day in class—leave him wanting more because isn’t that what this is, and so you play into it, a sly grin playing at the corner of your mouth as you lock eyes.

You release his wrist, then lock your focus on Harry as you begin to kneel, slow and precise, lowering until one knee hits the ground, then the other. You sit back on your heels, only breaking eye contact to place both palms neatly on your thighs, straightening your spine and rising up like the dutiful girl you’re about to become. Once your gaze moves back to Harry, he swallows hard, his adam’s apple bobbing with the effort, and you know you’ve got him that easily, and you haven’t even opened your mouth.

He steps in front of you then, his smile fading, and he leans over you, his dick inches from your face, and he gathers a handful of your hair with one hand, a makeshift ponytail, adding to the list of unexpected acts, and when he gives your head a gentle nudge, you have to force your eyes away from the obvious bump in his pants because there’s no way this dude isn’t packing some serious heat, and your dying to know, and maybe, just maybe you’ll find out.

You comply when he gives your hair another little tug, your head falling back as your eyes meet his, “Now open that sexy little mouth,” Lena shouts, playing into the bit. She’s like the best wingman without even realizing it, and your lips part, your mouth rounding into an “O,” and you widen your mouth, opening your jaw, and you give Harry one last look before your eyes flit shut.

“That’s so hot,” someone says, and you smile. Harry presses the cold can to your bottom lip, and your heart picks up as the chill runs through your chest, a sudden thrill.

He’s playful at first, a quick glug of beer spilling into your mouth, and the second it spills out, the crisp cold carbonation washes over your tongue like water leaving the stale taste of sour yeast running over your taste buds, cheap beer of course, and you feel your throat seize, overwhelmed, the feeling intensified by your lack of visual clues, then you lap your tongue over your bottom lip licking a stray drop that just hit the surface.

As you open your eyes, you take a moment to straighten your posture, preparing yourself for what’s next. Leaning back again, you feel Harry starting to pour, the can hovering just above your bottom lip. As your mouth widens in anticipation, he carefully lifts the can, his grip on your hair gentle yet firm, slowly guiding your head back. The beer flows steadily, and with each widening of your mouth, your jaw relaxes a bit more. Your gaze is fixed on the stream, and you engage your core muscles to maintain your straight posture. Like a little bird being fed, you take in the first gulp effortlessly. 

There’s a slight strain, but it’s nothing you can’t handle.

Like he promised, his pour was slow, and this time, you let your mouth fill more, thinking it would be easier. Your eyes flicked to Harry, a small grin peeking at the corner of his mouth as the stream got higher—tiny specks of droplets hitting your face as it splashed into your mouth, and you closed your eyes, stretching your spine to guzzle your next mouthful, now weighing down the back of your tongue, and you gulp, a loud gurgle coming from your throat as you hold steady trying not to move any other muscle but your throat, then someone yells, “I bet she’s good at giving blow jobs—” 

Hearing Harry’s raspy laugh, your eyes open, and you look him dead in the eye, opening your mouth as wide as you can, your jaw relaxing into the stretch. That’s when Harry decides to quicken the pour—the beer halfway gone, you hope— and he pulls at your ponytail with his firm grip, inching your head back further; and Harry takes control of the whole situation as panic rises up, your mouth filling faster this time, and you know you have to swallow.

 Then he’s pouring faster.

The new angle of your neck has made the strain harder, stretching the muscles in your neck taut, giving you less control, and you open the back of your throat as liquid spills down, fast, heavy as it gushes past the barrier you were holding, the choke down louder this time, a strained glug as you puff out your cheeks trying not to cough, and your eyes widen flicking to Harry who is biting back his smile, his chin rising as the pour speeds down into your mouth, and when his lips part, you choke down another gulp, eyes never leaving his.

He licks his lips then, and you do it again, just to see his reaction. As he licks his lips, a flying droplet hits your eye, then another, and you have to force your eyes shut, “Dump the rest in her mouth,” some dude says.

“Make her really choke on it!” another adds, and Harry grips the makeshift ponytail hard, and you open your eyes as the can comes down closer to your mouth. Harry tilts the can, emptying it out into your mouth, and you gasp down the beer, liquid spilling out the sides of your mouth, and there you are, squirming under Harry’s hold as you force the liquid down your throat, coughing in a gulp of air, once it’s completely down. 

As quickly as Harry grabbed hold of your hair, he released it, and you sucked in a breath, grasping at your neck with one hand, reaching for Harry with the other, and he pulls you to your feet and past the people flooding your hazy vision, your head spinning as a rush of oxygen fills your lungs, and it feels like your floating on a cloud, every limb on your body numb, heavy, yet weightless because you think you could do anything, yeah, you could do anything.

Then Harry pulls you through a doorway to a bedroom, your whole world coming to a hurried halt, you standing there trying to play catch up with a scene of events that just unfolded. Harry, in perpetual motion, moves way too fast, in a frantic rush, a hasty pace, as he walks over to his desk, grabs hold of a wooden chair, walks back to his door, and he jams the back of the chair under the handle, pulling on the knob to make sure it’s secure. 

And then he just stops, standing there looking at the door, and you don’t know what to do; the reality that you must be in his room setting in, yet Harry is unmoving. Standing there in some sort of contemplation, and you wonder if he forgot that you were here, and when he runs a flustered hand down his face, you listen to him exhale, putting a hand on his hip as he pivots to face you, “That damn lock is broken on my door,” he confesses, his smile suddenly shy.

“Yeah?” you breathe, unsure what to say.

“Yeah…” He says, his green eyes searching your face, and now you were dizzy with the vision of him before you, that shitty beer trying to show its face.

You had no idea what you looked like in that moment; Harry just stood there, rolling his bottom lip between his thumb and index finger, that boyish charm thing he does, another little cork you had picked up on over the months—was he nervous? You couldn’t tell with his furrowed brows, so serious, his tall stature seeming to consume the room because he was all you could focus on. 

“Was it weird that I brought you to my room?” He speaks up, and then he moves past you to turn on a lamp next to his bed.

Your response isn’t quick; it takes until he moves past you again to turn off his overhead light, a change in mood, the atmosphere shifting in a tipsy state, every subtle change amplified, “No…” is what you tell him because it isn’t weird, but getting to this point was overwhelming, 

“We don’t have to do anything…” He says, kicking a boot off, and you follow suit, peering down at your feet as one shoe comes off, then the next.

“But you want to, right?” You ask him, picking up your shoes and placing them by the door, and when you look back, you catch a hint of a smirk peeking at the corner of his mouth, a flutter building, and you bite the edge of your tongue to keep your smile at bay.

“I just wanted to get away from all those people…couldn’t think with all of that noise…” Harry tells you, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“It was so fucking loud…” you agree, eyes roaming his room, your obsessive little mind already at work.

“Yeah…” He says, and when your eyes shift to him, he’s leaning back into his arm, breathing an air of casualness into the room, and you rake your eyes down his body.

You give him a small smile, eyes moving away, “So you couldn’t hear yourself think, huh?” You ask, his room oddly sobering because how many times had you thought about it, wondered what it looked like? Imagined yourself in it, and who cares if you had been a tad bit obsessive? You never forced the idea on anyone or him; it was your sweet little innocent secret to keep, and look at what it got you: a front-row seat to your favorite show, so why not take it? 

“Yeah…a bit overwhelming…” he laughs, his tongue lazily stretching out that last word, his British drawl heavy.

You look over your shoulder, “Overwhelming?” You smile again, matching Harry’s smile, and your eyes dart to his books lined across a shelf. 

“What was there to think about?” you question, dragging a slow finger down the spine of an old book, taking in the faded colors, and you turn just in time to glimpse that cocky grin rising, Harry’s mouth corking to one side, mischievous is all you can think. 

“You—” He says, plain and simple, the word falling out of his mouth like a hopeful gumdrop falling from the sky, something you never imagined happening, and you felt your body buzzing with it, a slow hum vibrating deep in your belly, your pussy waking with it, and you knew this was it—You were going to get what you wanted.

“Tell me more…” You push, moving over to him, and Harry falls back into his other hand, his body now a long, lean line in front of you.

He pushes out a throaty laugh, eyes moving down your body, and you try to relax, let the alcohol work its magic, “I’ve noticed you blush easily…I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Hmm…” you hum.

“They’re a bit naughty…these thoughts—” He starts, sending a pulse straight to your clit as your heart begins to race, and you lean forward, placing a hand on each of his knees, looking him directly in the eyes, and you nod your head for him to continue. 

“You started it, you know…” and this makes you laugh, “When you put your hand on my knee…”

“But did I start it?” You asked, feeling playful, “You’re the one who knocked my knee…” you tell him.

“Okay…I did do that…but you actually started this whole thing?”

“This whole thing?” you repeat, eyes moving to his mouth.

He licks his lips then, well aware of your eyes, “Yeah,” he says, smoothing his lips together, “When you smiled at me…that day in class…I saw you…”

“What? How do you know I was smiling at you? I could have been smiling at anyone…” you lie, trying to sidetrack him, and he was right about the blushing; you could feel the heat rising, your brain stumbling over the fact that he even remembered that.

He rasps out a laugh, leaning up to rest his hands on yours, his face only inches away, and the light catches the glint of his green eyes, leaving you in awe. “No…I saw it…there’s no fooling me, miss.”

“Fooling you?” you ask, smoothing your hands up his legs a few inches, and Harry grabs hold of your wrists, stopping them, his eyes sweeping down to your hands.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you—” and you force your face forward then, your mouth knocking against his, and you couldn’t help it, that persistent thought of him making you spiral, and when he doesn’t hesitate, you begin to move your mouth.

Harry deepens the kiss as his hands move up to your face, and then your propelling you both into action when you bring a knee to the edge of the bed. Then Harry breaks the kiss, reality hitting like a tidal wave, one big rush of awareness, knocking the air from your lungs, and you realize you should have asked. 

“Is this okay?” He questions, his hot breath fanning over your lips, your face still in his hands.

You laugh, “I probably should be the one asking you, right? sorry…”

“No—I should have asked before I locked you in my room…” He forces, eyes darting over your face, but you’re watching the rise and fall of his chest, both of you winded from the sudden change of possibilities. 

Staring down at his shirt, you say, “I want it…if you want it…” and you give his shirt a longing tug, your whole body aching for him, like even just rubbing your body against his would be enough, yearning like an adolescent dying to be touched for the first time.

“I’ve wanted you so fucking bad—” He tells you, forcing the words into your ear as a hand reaches for the button of your jeans, and it pops open in one swift move, then you lean forward, beginning to push them down, Harry lending his hands as you move in to kiss him.

You pull away then, fighting with the leg of your pants as you watch Harry yank his shirt over his head, the sight momentarily stunning you when you spot the tattoo at the center of his chest that you glimpsed earlier. 

When Harry reaches for his jeans, you stop what you’re doing, “Please…give me the honor…” you joke, your hands moving with a need to the button of his jeans, and your mouth is already watering, excited when you spot the outline of his growing bulge taunting you.

Harry grabs hold of the top of his boxers as you shimmy his pants down his hips, lifting, then helping once they reach his ankles, “Skinny jeans will be the death of me…” He laughs out, ripping his ankle free, and then they’re off, Harry leaning back slightly to adjust himself in his Calvin Kline boxers, so fucking sexy, and your eyes feast on the sight of his abs, the tight muscles bending and flexing, and what a fucking sight to behold. 

But he doesn’t give you much time because he snags the hem of your shirt and pulls it up, standing to lift it over your head, and just as your sucking in a breath, his mouth moves to yours, grabbing you by the waist to shift you onto the bed as you try to drag a quick breath through your nose.

His hands are everywhere—your face, your neck, your stomach, gliding up the curve of your waist, gently cupping a handful of boob, hungry, but you’re just as hungry, gripping and smoothing your hands over his muscles, hands roaming down the plains of his back, grabbing his ass to press him into you. 

It’s all fast, every breath short and desperate, as desperate as you both were to spur this on.

And your legs are spreading, inviting him in, and when you grab his ass again, your shoving him into you, a slow grind into his hard bulge, and you gasp at the relief, the sensation, the air heavy, a narrowing focus that nothing else exists except this, and when Harry takes the lead pressing into you again, you arch your back, lifting your hips up to meet his, until you’re finding a rhythm, Harry just as involved, needy, forcing out moans, each one a low simmer, a slow burn, both your bodies heating with it.

Weak.

That’s what you are weak for him, a heady rush stealing every thought because all you can feel is him, his body, his slow grind between your legs, pressing into you hard, like he too is aching, longing, and it’s one long stroke, his dick so hard that you can make out the head hitting you right at your center, gliding up your panties until you feel the base of his cock, and he groans out your name, stilling his body.

“I’ll fucking come if we keep this up—” he tells you.

And you nod, planting a kiss on his lips, “I want you to fuck me…” you force, grinding your hips into his.

“Is that what you want?” He breathes, pressing a kiss to your neck, his words catching in the shell of your ear.

“So fucking bad…” you laugh, nipping at his shoulder, and he pushes himself up then, crawling back on the bed, the warmth of his body leaving you, making you even needier for him.

Harry reaches into his bedside table and mulls around, the sound of clutter filling the silence, and you draw your knees up, lifting yourself onto your elbows. “Sorry…I only have one condom left…”

And then you laugh, “Damn, I guess we’ll have to make it count...”

With a smile, Harry brings the foiled wrapper to his mouth, tearing it open with his teeth, your heart pounding in your chest as you hold your breath, a sliver of the wrapper holding by a thread at the edge, and you scoot forward on the bed, beating him before his hands can even reach for his boxers.

You look up then, “You have a big dick, don’t you?” you smile, giddy almost, thrilled at the notion of him being inside you.

“I guess to some…yeah…does that make you change your mind?”

He had you from the moment he walked into that class, but he’s about to have to figure out a way to rid himself of you because once you tug down his boxers, your eyes go wide, your hand moving like a magnet to his hard dick springing before you, and you’re already climbing off the bed, his warm dick in your hands, and your down on your knees before he can even say another word.

“I want to do something first,” You tell him, wrapping your hand around the back of his leg to bring him closer.

Harry lets out a breathy laugh and covers his face, letting his head fall back like the sight of you on your knees is too much, and he puffs out a loud sigh, dragging his hands down his face, “I can’t watch…” He tells you, pushing his words to the ceiling with a smile, and he laces his hands behind his head, letting the weight of his neck fall into his hands, and your eyes move down his body, traveling down his flexed stomach until you spot the tattoo, and you laugh, gripping his swelling dick in your hand.

“Oh my god, Harry—” and you peer up at him. He’s probably heard it all before, but it doesn’t stop him from laughing. 

The excitement sends a pulse through his dick, and it bounces in your loose grip, “I can’t look down…I already told you…”

You send your focus to the words inked into his skin, bringing his thick dick to your lips, the head of his cock, perfectly round like every candy-coated daydream you’ve ever had of him—a fucking treat, a lollipop earned, you think, already on your knees for him because those have been the daydreams you wanted to act out, put on a show that would drive him wild for you, but that was you on your knees tonight for him already, when you were that dutiful girl choking down beer for him, now you wanted to choke on him, fill the back of your throat until you were gagging on his big dick.

It started with a bounce against your mouth, the heavy head of his penis rippling across your lips; another bounce and you were lining your bottom lip with the ridge of his head, bounce, bounce, bounce, the weight of him hitting your mouth waking your senses, and then your lips were parting, a warm breath fanning over his dick, and your eyes flick up to Harry, watching him suck in a shallow breath.

“Might as well,” the tattoo says.

 So you open your mouth, flattening your tongue, your hand guiding his head into your mouth, and you open wider as you slowly drag him past the tip of your tongue, and you listen as Harry sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth.

You like this; you like his reaction, and when you close your mouth around him, your tongue flattens against his dick, working his head, your hand moving down his shaft, giving you more of him to take in; a couple of bobs and you hear him rasp out a low moan, throaty like he’s trying to control himself. When you pull him from your mouth, you gasp in a breath, gearing up to take on more, knowing you need to loosen your jaw. Then you’re diving for more, shoving him in further, and Harry forces out, “Oh, God—”

The encouragement provokes you further, ripping his dick from your mouth, and you spit down his shaft, working it down the base—a little extra help; then you’re bobbing your head, your hand moving with your mouth in unison, synchronized as your throat opens for him.

 “Shit—” Harry breathes when you give his head a little extra attention, and he meets your eyes then, your gaze unmoving when you puff out your cheeks and force his dick to the back of your throat and the thick head of his penis hits your gag reflex hard, making your throat close around him, constricting as you force him back further, and you grip the base, readying yourself to do it again, then Harry tears his cock from your mouth, your throat seizing as you choke in a breath. The abrupt movement snatches the air from your lungs, and you gasp in a fast breath.

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry…I didn’t mean for it to be that forceful.” Harry blurts, leaning down to hook a finger under your chin, and you rise to your feet, wiping at the corner of your mouth. 

“Oh my god—” you say, trying to keep a straight face, falling back onto the bed, turning the dramatics up when you clutch your throat. “I could have died—”

“I swear I didn’t mean to—” he tries.

You push yourself up on your elbows, “Now you owe me,” you tell him, feeling the corner of your mouth rise, and you narrow your eyes, bringing your foot up to the middle of his chest when he tries to climb on top of you. 

That’s when Harry realizes you’re joking, and he wraps a hand around your ankle, straightening his torso with a smile, “I know just how to repay you—” he tells you, gently lowering your leg to the bed. 

His large palms come down to the tops of your thighs, giving you a light squeeze before they drag down your skin and hook behind your knees as you watch that smile widen on his face, and with one quick tug, he tugs you to the edge of the bed, a faint gasp leaving your mouth and you bite down on your lower lip, watching as he reaches for your underwear. 

When his fingers hook under the top of your panties, you suck in a quick breath, drawing your tummy in as he starts to pull, and you fall back onto the bed again, bringing your feet up on the edge of the bed to lift your hips as you close your eyes focusing on the way Harry slowly drags the material down your thighs, and you lengthen your leg as he pulls them past your ankles. 

That’s when you lean up, eyes meeting his as he drops to his knees. A flutter of excitement runs between your legs, and your heart races with anticipation. “Since you were such a good girl…” He starts his hands on your waist now, and his thumbs caress the skin of your hip bones, gripping the meat at your sides to drag you closer.

You can’t help but squeeze your leg shut. “You’ll have to open those legs so I can give you your treat, darling. “ and you laugh, his British accent making you giddy, and you press your thighs together harder. 

You speak up then, “I kinda want you to just fuck me…” you tell him, your voice coming off more timid than you’d like, and Harry lets out a laugh, brings his mouth to the top of your knee, and presses a kiss into your skin, making your pussy pulse. 

“But I really—” he says, placing another kiss on the other knee, “want to return the favor—” 

“How about next time?” you answer, your clit starting to ache for his dick to fill you up. 

“You promise?” he asks, resting his chin on your knee, his green eyes almost pleading like a cute little puppy begging for scraps.

And you reach forward, running a hand through his hair, giving it a light tussle, and Harry closes his eyes, relishing the feeling, “Next time…I promise—”

“But right now—” you force, and Harry’s eyes flit open, meeting yours, “I want you to fuck me.”

Harry’s eyes go wide then, his brows lifting, and he swallows hard, his chin digging into the top of your thigh as a playful smirk appears, “Yeah?”

“Please—” you push. 

He reaches for the condom he placed on the bedside table and stands to his feet, his large dick coming back into view, and you clench your thighs tighter, feeling the slickness between them spread every time you move.

You watch him pull the condom from the wrapper, his dick in one hand, slowly smoothing up and down his shaft, his eyes trained on you, “You want or need me to fuck you?”

You choke on a laugh then, your mouth going dry at the sight, and you lick your lips, “Both—” and you smile.

“Mmm…” he hums, concentration etching into his brow, “Take your bra off,” he tells you, and you push yourself up, your hands shaking with adrenaline as your heart picks up, and you unclasp your bra and toss it to the ground. 

This brings a smirk to his face as his eyes flit over your naked body on his bed, “I liked the way you grabbed my hair earlier… that was hot,” you tell him…” and he licks his lips, biting down on his lower lip to control the smile that’s dying to rise.

“Is that how you want it?” he asks, his deep voice humming through your body.

The smiles are gone, a new energy creeping into the room, something heavy and charged with a new demand, “That’s how I want it…” you tell him.

“Scoot up on the bed.” He instructs, making your whole body go numb, the excitement overwhelming your nerves, and as you scoot your way back onto the bed, your legs spread, bringing awareness to your wet pussy as a gust of air rushes over your skin.

When you look back up, Harry is rolling the condom down his dick, stopping once he hits the base, and you both lock eyes, “All fours—” he says.

“Turn around and get on all fours,” and you give him one last look and silently flip over, your heart beating in your chest.

“Good—just like that—face down—” he tells you, “ass up—” he demands as you press your face into the bed, and you extend your arms straight, feeling the edge of the bed under your palms. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks one more time, “ Is there anything you don’t want to do?”

“No anal…” you tell him, peeking over your shoulder, “I don’t think I could handle that on the first go.” 

Harry laughs then raises his brows, “Noted—” he answers, leaning forward to grab hold of your hips, and just as you plant your cheek to the comforter, he rips you back to the edge of the bed, no warning as your cheek drags across the blanket, and you gasp, the quick motion stealing your breath, and when you lift your cheek from the bed to readjust yourself, there’s a slight burn from the fabric grazing your skin. 

“Changed my mind…I want you on the edge…in case you try and squirm—”

And you swallow, pressing your forehead to the comforter, and lengthen your spine as Harry adjusts your hips, stretching your arms across the bed; no safety of the ledge, just the grasp of the fabric lightly bunching under your palms. 

When Harry presses a knee into the bed, you feel his flattened palm press into your upper back, trying to flatten you more, and you turn your face, trying to stretch further, the tips of your fingers now at the edge of the side, and you close your eyes.

Harry drags a finger down your lengthened spine, then, starting at the base of your neck, a slow drag gliding down your smooth skin, making you curve your back like a cat as a shiver runs down your spine at the very thought of his touch, and you arch your back, letting your ass come down to your heels, completely taken by the sensation shuttering through you. 

And all you hear is the tisk of Harry’s tongue, “Ass up—” Harry commands, jerking your hips back into place, and suddenly you’re scared out of your fucking mind, yet lost in the trance he’s put you in because you are so turned on, even more, turned on by his commands—You’ve never let a guy just take you like this, given him the control.

When you feel the pad of Harry’s thumb smooth over your slick entrance, you let out a soft moan, the feeling making your clit pulse as he spreads the wetness over the lips of your pussy, the cold air mingling with your wet skin and you suck in an audible breath. 

Then Harry dips a finger inside, getting you ready for him, and you feel yourself opening, melding into the bed as his finger dips further, and when he adds the motion of his thumb over your clit, you hold your breath, a slow circle beginning to take way.

“Oh—that—” you breathe, pushing out a heavy breath, a knot already forming deep inside.

“So fucking wet for me—tight,” he coos, the pressure on your clit deepening, and you moan out a loud sigh of satisfaction, raising your ass higher, growing needy for him, and then he slips another finger inside you, a light stretch as he sinks his fingers deeper this time, paving a slick way for his dick to fill you.

Harry dips his fingers one more time and then pulls them away, “Tastes good—” he says, and you lift your head just as he shoves his fingers into his mouth, his lips curving around them, and you have to look away, another shudder moving down your spine at the absence of his hands, and you almost want to beg, but then harry is grabbing hold of your hips again, a knee pushing back into the bed, and your ready, so ready, ass perfectly lifted, spine just how he wants it.

He brushes his thumb over your opening one more time, and he presses your hip into his inner thigh, you spreading slightly to give him more access, and you feel the firm head of his cock streak down your entrance, then again, making you draw in a slow breath, and your whole body tenses as he sinks in a little further, a groan leaving his mouth as the tip pushes past your entrance.

This is happening, his dick inching in more, and you moan out, pushing your forehead into the bed, gripping the blanket under your palms as if they could save you because then he’s pushing into you more, with a little force, your neck lifting to push out a low whimper.

It’s everything you pictured the stretch would be, a painful beginning, the delicate skin at your entrance on fire as your walls clench around him, and Harry forces himself deeper, stretching his way until he’s completely inside you, splitting his way past the point of no return, and you gasp out, “Fuck—” louder when he pulls your hips into him, your ass pressed to his pelvis, and Harry groans out, “So fucking tight—” a breathy laugh leaving his mouth as he leans forward to press a kiss into the center of your back, and the new angle has him pushing deeper.

“Mmmm,” you force, pushing your hips into him, trying to move past the pain, and he is so fucking deep, pressing into the pit of your stomach; at least that’s what it feels like because you’ve never been filled like this, every muscle lining the walls inside of your pussy straining against his large mass, and you know what this can be, and when he slowly inches his dick back, you feel the gap he leaves, your body already desperate to be filled again, and he thrusts back inside you, slow and rhythmic, the stretch evening out with every stroke.

“Is that good?” He asks, giving your hips a squeeze, and you drag your forearm down to your forehead and rest your head, trying to focus on every breath in and out, breathing in tandem with his strokes.

“Don’t stop, okay?” you force on an exhale, and you hear the rasp of Harry’s laugh as you slam your eyes shut, his thrust harder this time.

Harry’s grip tightens on your hips, and when he pushes inside you again, it’s one long, slowed thrust, and he drives himself inside you deeper, the pressure hitting your lower belly again, and you moan out, forcing in a sharp breath.

“You like that dick, don’t you?” He asks, but you don’t lift your head; you just nod. Harry pulls back again, and you grip the comforter, gearing up for his next thrust as they begin to pick up.

“I like—” you try as Harry hits that spot again.

“You like what—?” he huffs, pulling all the way out.

“So fucking big…” you tell him, and he shoves his thick cock deep inside you, pushing past your walls as a new layer of stretch burns like a line of fire inside you, and you force yourself up, reaching behind you to force his hips back as a pained moan leaves your mouth.

Harry knocks your hand away, “No—this is what you wanted, right?” he laughs, that dimpled smile beaming down at you, “You’re doing so well…I know you can take me.” and it’s like his words ignite the challenge aching in your bones, that longing for him, all those months of being so fucking patient, pining for this very moment.

And so you seize it, giving him one last look before you plant your hand back down on the bed, and Harry grasps a handful of your hair, just like you asked, slowly pulling your head back as he drives his dick back inside you, and you draw out your moan, the slow thrust in, stirring that knot in your belly.

In and out, slow at first, his grip on your hair light, your neck comfortably positioned as the pleasure begins to roll in, and you push back into him and lower onto your elbows, ready to let your lower half do all the work.

When he pulls back out, you chase his dick back to keep the same pace, rolling your hips back until your ass is flush with his body, and you arch your spine, your hair beginning to pull at your scalp from the new position, and you lift your hips, dropping back down as harry pushed in, the two of you finding a new cadence, spurring each other on as pleasure completely takes over.

“Mmmm—I like that—” he moans as you move up his dick, catching the head of his cock on your entrance; you dip back down, gasping when you hit that spot inside you, and it feels so good, a bittersweet edge as the pain dulls, and you do it again. This time, with more force, and Harry lets you take control, taking more hair into his grip, the reign between you both shortening.

“Those hips are magic—” Harry praises you, and you want more, so you pick up your pace, drawing your hips up, a light swirl at the tip, bringing them back down hard and fast, Harry tugging your head back until you do it again, and again until he’s pulling your hair so tight that every muscle in your neck is straining to catch a decent breath, a new facet of control you’ve never explored taking hold of your whole body, and you give in, Harry plowing his dick in and out of you like the gallop of a horse, your ass bouncing back against him as he tugs your hair, both of your words filthy, flying out of your mouths as you both act out in desperation.

“More—” you cry out.

And he does it, releasing your hair and pushing you to the bed as he grabs your hips and slams into you with such force that you yell out his name, the whole room spinning as you drop your cheek to the bed, and you tuck a hand between your legs, spreading until you reach your clit

That’s all it takes, your fingers moving between your legs, Harry’s hard thrusts in and out of you, and as you feel your orgasm about to mount, you dip your back, arching your ass out as far as you can, sending his dick deeper inside you, and you come, a hard tremble ripping through your body, so hard that it steals your words, your body going slack, a hard gasp in, your lungs seizing with the effort, and your whole body shudders, your walls clamping around his dick as Harry slams one last thrust into you and his entire body stills, arching around you as he comes, his sweaty torso, sticking to your skin as you fall into the bed, and the world goes silent around you both.

“It’s a shame you only had one condom,” You laugh, your body shaky as you stir back to life, and Harry plants a lazy kiss on your shoulder as he pushes himself up, his dick pulling out of you, leaving you hollow, and you cross your arms under your cheek, and lay there.

“Are you already wanting more?” and you lift your head and watch that charming little smile turn up at the corners of his mouth, drawing you in as you lay here in the sticky sweet aftermath of every candied daydream you’ve ever had of him, and it’s better, better than you could have ever envisioned, and when you lower your cheek back down to your arm, the air is light, your head clouding into that cotton candy haze, and your lost in him, lost in the feeling, and you know you’ll be forever wanting more because if that was just a tiny little morsel you want more and then you tell him:

“I have more condoms at my place…”

A/N: Well, that was a bit of a rollercoaster...what did you think??

Chat with me<-

My Tiny Masterlist<-

[harrywavycurly]

Delicate: Temporary

Masterlist: Here

CW: language, smut (oral m and f reviving, masturbating, unprotected sex and fingering), explicit dirty talk (Harry is a freak for his bestie we already know), size kink and a small dash of angst.

A/N: Sorry in advance but just remember there is still one part left and thank you all so much for the love on this little mini series, yall are the best and I hope you enjoy!!🌟

Word Count: 9.7K

Tag List: @masochistfork @dipmeinhoneyh @sunshinemoonsposts @sweetmoonlove0214 @maudie-duan @umadirectioner @styleswithaseaview @sunflower-tia @tulips4harry @gmikaelson @fangirl509east @howling-wolf97 @outofthisworl-d @namoreno @blckburd @triski73 @prettygurl-2009 @hopefullimaginer123 @somewiseguy @emmie2308 @delanie881dlover13 @frankyrose7 @matildasatellite @run-for-the-hills @mema10 @indierockgirrl @mads3502 @robinsue87 @finelineryy @spinninc @angeldavis777 @swiftmendeshoran @sassamanda77

Summary: Harry goes out of town for a week and things start to feel different🌟

“Fuck fuck-shit.” Harry pants as his grip in your hair tightens, hips bucking causing the tip of his cock to nudge the back of your throat. Your hand firmly wrapped around what you can’t fit in your mouth as you moan around his thick shaft. “That’s it muffin-shit yes just like that-oh fuck.”

He looks down at you on your knees while he’s standing near the foot of your bed, having surprised him by tugging his jeans to his ankles and wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock after coming home from taking you out for a nice dinner that included flowers and a little gift when he came to your door to pick you up. Your eyes are watery and you have drool dribbling down your chin as you hold his hip with the hand that’s not wrapped around his thick shaft and right now to Harry you look like an actual dream, not that he’d ever admit he’s dreamt about fucking his cock down your throat before. When he feels you moan around him as your hand slides off his hip he lets out a few deep groans but when he glances back down at you that’s when he notices your hand has disappeared under your skirt.

“Hands muffin.” His voice is that mixture of stern and gentle that would have your panties soaked, if you were wearing any as you remove your hand and place it back on Harry’s hip just as he thrusts his cock deeper down your throat making you gag just a bit before pulling off him to catch your breath. “I’ll take care of you don’t worry.” He gives you a smile as his hand that’s not in your hair reaches down and wipes some of the drool off your chin. “Just let me fuck this pretty little mouth first okay?”

“Okay.” You say breathlessly before you swipe your tongue over his leaking tip making his eyes snap shut and a deep moan to slip past his lips.

“Feels so fucking good.” He lets out a groan as you take him as deep as you can, his hand in your hair keeping you still so he can pull his cock out so just his tip is wrapped around your plush lips before he pushes it back in with a gentle thrust of his hips. “Fuck muffin gonna come-fuck fuck.” His hips give a few harsh thrusts making him hit the back of your throat, your low moans vibrating against his shaft make him let out a choked moan of your name as his hips still and he’s shooting his warm load down your throat. The moan you let out around his cock has his eyes rolling back as your mouth and hand work him through his orgasm until he’s gently pulling you off by the loose grip he has in your hair.

“Such a messy little muffin.” He coos as his hands cup your face, wiping the few tears off your cheeks with his thumbs. “Did so good.” He praises you with a smile as his hands slide down to the side of your neck. “Always make me feel so good so now it’s your turn.” He watches your lips curve upward as he takes a step back, effectively kicking his jeans and boxers off before helping you up off your knees.

“What do you want hmm?” He asks as his hands land at the waistband of your skirt. “Want to fuck my fingers until you’re a soaking wet mess that I’ll just clean up with my tongue?” You’re practically shaking with a deep rooted need for the man that’s staring at you like he wants to devour you as he unzips your skirt letting it drop to your feet. “Fuck you’re so pretty.” He says with a deep sigh as his eyes roam over your body, his lips press against yours in a hungry kiss as his hands roughly grip your hips.

“Need you.” You whine when he pulls away and spins you around so your back is against his chest. “Please Harry.” The way your voice turns all soft with a slight whininess to it when you beg for him to touch you has quickly become one of Harry’s favorite sounds.

“I know what you need muffin don’t worry.” He leans down and places his lips on your neck as he urges you to take the few steps forwards to your bed. “Gonna take care of you.” He promises as he places his hands on your hips as you lean forward on your knees so your face is pressed against your soft sheets and your ass is up towards him.

“Oh muffin you’re a mess.” You let out a whine as he slides his hands over your ass, your glistening pussy on display for him as he steadies himself behind you on his knees. “You liked having my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours didn’t you? Fuck-you’re practically dripping.” You just moan and nod your head in response as he teases your soaked entrance with his middle finger while his thumb finds your swollen bundle of nerves. “Shit you’re already squeezing around me and it’s just the first one.” He has to close his eyes for a moment as your warm wet walls clench around his middle finger, sending a shot of arousal straight to his cock.

“M-more Harry-oh please please.” Your words are muffled by your sheets but Harry knows what you need, he always seems to know what you need especially when it comes to your body, ever since he started paying your rent and buying you random gifts almost a month ago, he’s come to be very familiar with your moans and whines and what exactly they mean.

“There you go.” He adds two more fingers into your wetness, thrusting them into you at a pace that has you pressing back to meet his slow thrusts, feeling a very familiar pool of pleasure already starting to build low in your belly. “That’s it muffin feel how full you get when you fuck my fingers? Just think how you’ll feel when you finally get my cock tucked inside your tight little cunt-fuck it’s gonna feel so good.” Your eyes roll back and your hands grip your sheets at his filthy words as Harry reaches up to hold onto one of your hips as his thumb increases its pressure on your clit making you shudder and clench around him.

“Faster-oh oh god.” He takes your request and quickens his pace making your room be filled with the wet sounds of you fucking yourself on his fingers, pressing yourself back against his hand until the heal of his palm is tucked against you, the cool metal of the rings on his fingers a pleasant sensation as they disappear inside you.

“Oh that’s the spot isn’t it muffin-fuck you’re squeezing so tight just let go-that’s it make a mess all over my hand.” Your orgasm hits you hard and quickly making your hips press down on his hand in a sloppy but determined pace, his fingers curving inside you to hit that spot that has you seeing stars as you clench around him as you soak his fingers and his hand. “God I love how messy you are.” He moans as he looks down and watches your arousal drip down the back of your thighs when he slides his fingers out of you.

“Harry want-want your mouth.” He can’t help but grin as you pant out what you want from him, and Harry hasn’t ever enjoyed telling you no so he happily leans over and kisses your back over your top before he grabs your hips to help scoot you down the bed so he can stand at the end of it, your ass still up and your dripping center waiting for him to dive his tongue into.

“Got one more for me muffin?” He teases as he grips your hips before leaning in and licking up your soaked folds to your swollen clit, giving it a flick with his tongue.

“Harry!” You cry out his name when he shoves his tongue into your wet pussy, swirling it around while his hands slide down grabbing and kneading the soft flesh of your ass.

“I could lick your sweet pussy all day and never get enough of it.” His breath is hot against your center as he lets out a groan of pleasure when he slips his tongue back inside and starts licking you up and down, he drops a hand down to wrap around his hardening cock giving himself a few slow pumps not wanting to get too close until he feels you soaking his tongue and his chin.

“Oh god oh god oh-oh god.” Your body shudders as your hips grind down onto his tongue, a wave of pleasure crashing down on you like a tidal wave. “Harry harry-oh god Harry.” You would normally feel slightly embarrassed by how whiny and loud you’re chanting his name but Harry has a way of making you forget about anything other than how good you feel as you chase your second release of the evening. You works your hips to meet the rhythm of his tongue as he fucks it into you desperate to have you come undone on his tongue.

You let out a loud cry as you climax, not as intense as the first one but still strong enough to leave you breathless and your mind in a blissful haze, he laps up your release with his tongue. His low moan vibrating against your core making you grip the sheets so tight your knuckles turn white as Harry helps you ride it out with slow licks and a firm grip on your ass.

“So good-you taste so good.” He mumbles as he gives your center one last swipe with his tongue before he soothingly rubs his hands over your hips and down the side of your thighs. “Roll over for me muffin I wanna see that pretty face.” He helps you roll onto your back, he watches your chest rise and fall rapidly as you try to catch your breath. “There she is.” He says with a smile as you spread your legs for him to stand between.

“I’m gonna miss you.” You say softly as you reach your hands up to grab at Harry’s face. “Are you gonna miss me?” You ask as Harry leans over you so he can playfully bump your nose with his before capturing your lips in a kiss that starts off sweet and gentle but then as he reaches down and grips your knee so he can hike your leg over his hip, it turns heated and desperate as he rolls his hips into you letting you feel his hard cock pressed against your wet pussy. His tongue slips past your lips as your hands tangle in his hair as your legs wrap around him trying to pull him in closer letting the tip of his cock poke at your entrance.

“You know-fuck- I’m gonna miss you.” He says between pants when he pulls away from your kiss swollen lips. “Jesus Christ muffin you’re gonna kill me.” You let out a filthy moan when Harry grips his shaft and drags the leaky tip of his cock up and down your pussy lips.

“Please give it to me.” You beg as he pumps himself a few times, letting you feel his tip throb against you making your back arch and your pussy clench around nothing. “Want your cock Harry please.”

“Muffin.” He drags your petname out as he tries to keep himself from spilling all over your pretty cunt with how much you’re begging for him to fuck his cock into you. “Not tonight-when I get back you can have my cock okay? I’ll give it to you as many times as you want.” He tells you making your eyes get watery and a pout to take over your face causing Harry to let out a soft sigh.

“Please-just-just the tip? I can handle that.” You try to negotiate as Harry ruts his hips up against you letting his shaft rub against your sensitive clit earning him a moan.

“I know you better than that muffin.” He says with a deep groan as he gives himself a slow teasing pump with his hand. “You’ll want more than just the tip and you’re already worn out-don’t want the first time you feel my thick cock being stuffed inside your tight pussy to be when you’re half asleep.” He explains as he continues to give his cock slow strokes.

“Please Harry.” It’s the way you say his name that has him cursing under his breath and closing his eyes trying to stop himself from just pushing into you and fucking you into the mattress until you’re a withering mess underneath him. But he knows by the way your eyes are hooded and your cheeks are flushed with a dusting of light pink your legs are still shaking as they squeeze around his hips that you’re still not fully recovered from the two orgasms he just worked out of you with his fingers and his tongue.

“Don’t be greedy muffin.” He tells you as he leans over, pushing your top up so he can place open mouthed kisses to your chest. “Got my fingers and my tongue tonight-you’ll get my cock when I get back in a week- I promise you won’t even have to beg me for it.” His voice is gentle and soothing but with a hint of an edge to it that tells you he’s not going to give in, you just let out a breathy sigh making him smile against your skin before he drags his tongue over and around your nipple.

“Want you to come again.” You say with a soft gasp when Harry gently nips and sucks at your nipple. “Can feel how hard you are.” Your back arches as your hands tangle themselves in Harry’s hair when he moves over to your other breast while he slides his leaking tip up and down the front of your pussy.

“It’s all because of you.” He mumbles against the soft skin of your chest. “Gonna come all over this pretty pussy.” He says with a moan as he begins to give his shaft more firm and quick strokes, his hips jerking as he fucks his cock into his hand. He feels your hands give his hair a harsh tug making him groan in pleasure as his orgasm hits him.

“It’s all mine isn’t it? No one else makes a mess on this tight cunt but me isn’t that right muffin?” You let out a gasp when you feel his warm load paint the front of your pussy lips.

“Yes Harry- it’s all yours.” You say with a gasp as your hands drop from his hair as he leans back and works himself through it, a few drops landing on your clit and lower tummy.

“That’s right-s’all mine.” He growls as he rides out his high, he releases his now softening cock and looks down between your thighs, reaching out with his middle and index finger he smears his release around your entrance before slipping his fingers inside your weepy little hole.

“Harry.” You flinch away from him when his thumb does a few gentle circles on your clit, still feeling sensitive. “T-too much.” You whine making Harry slide his fingers out of your wetness.

“M’sorry muffin.” He tells you sweetly as he leans down and kisses your hips and then your tummy as you close your eyes and let out a sigh. “You okay?” He asks as he leans over you, a hand on each side of your head, when you just nod Harry can’t help but chuckle because he can tell how exhausted you are.

“I’m good.” You answer with your eyes still closed, Harry smiles as he leans down to nudge the tip of his nose against yours playfully.

“You gonna let me clean you up or are you going to be a little pouty mess about it?” He asks as his lips find your jaw, giving it a soft little pecks as his lips travel down to the side of your neck.

“Don’t need to be cleaned up.” You tell him as he nips and sucks at what’s become his favorite place to leave little reminders of him for you to see throughout the week, happily replacing them with new little love marks whenever they start to fade away. “Want to have you on me all night.”

“While I adore what a filthy little muffin you are-you can’t sleep like this you’ll be all sticky and wake me up at three in the morning when you start to cry after banging your toe on that obnoxious dresser you have on the way to the bathroom.”

“It’s not obnoxious you just don’t watch where you’re walking.”

“Fine it’s not obnoxious it’s just hideous.”

“Don’t be rude.” Harry lets out a laugh as he stands up and slips his boxers back on. “I don’t want to get up.” You tell him with a pout as you finally open your eyes, Harry just nods as he turns to walk towards your bathroom.

“That’s fine just lay there like the princess you are and I’ll do all the work like usual.” He jokes making you glare at the back of his head before he disappears into your small bathroom. When he walks out a few minutes later he has a shirt in one hand and a damp washcloth in the other.

“Is that your shirt?” You question with a raised brow as you sit up onto your elbows. Harry just nods as he places it down on the bed next to your leg as he kneels down so he can begin gently wiping the warm cloth between your thighs, giving you soft kisses to the skin of your inner thighs when he hears you let out a small hiss when he runs the cloth over your sensitive button.

“God you’re gorgeous.” He says with a sigh as he stands up and looks you in your eyes making you blush and look away from him. He smiles as he tosses the damp cloth into your dirty clothes bin by the door of your bathroom.

“Thank you.” You mumble as you sit up so you can take your top off, handing it to Harry as you grab the soft worn out band shirt that was in your clothes hamper, knowing you would want to sleep in something that smelled like him, a little thing he’s noticed you tend to do whenever the two of you stay the night with one another.

“What are you thanking me for? Calling you gorgeous? Dinner? The multiple orgasms you’ve gotten tonight?”

“Don’t make me kick you out of my bed and force you to sleep on the couch.” You threaten as he climbs into bed. “Because I’ve done it before so we both know I’m serious.”

“Oh you kicked me out a year ago because I kept shoving my feet between your legs which I still think was extremely rude because you’re the one who’s heat wasn’t working properly so you can’t blame me for seeking you out for some warmth.” He argues as you immediately snuggle into his side once he’s laying down, your cheek pressed against his bare chest and his arm lazily wrapped around you so he can rub his hand up and down your back in a soothing motion.

“I don’t get how your feet are so cold when the rest of you is like a furnace.”

“Well feel free to use me for all your warming up needs next time your heat goes out.” You laugh as his hand gives your side a playful tickle. “Wish you could come with me.” He says a few minutes later, you let out a sigh as you tilt your head so you can look at his face, silently appreciating the view of his jawline and the slight stubble from not having shaved the past few days.

“I know but I really did promise Amelia to hang out for a few days while she’s in town. Haven’t gotten to see her in months and she’s-”

“Hey it’s okay I understand.” He softly hushes you with a few kiss to your forehead and a reassuring smile as he looks down at you. “Just gonna miss you that’s all.” You feel a weird fluttering in your tummy as his words hit your ears, and it’s nothing he hasn’t said to you before when you’ve been unable to accompany him on trips but something about how he’s looking at you right now as he says it has your head spinning just a bit.

“I’m going to miss you too.” You mumble into his chest as you close your eyes.

“Goodnight love.” He whispers softly as he leans down to places a kiss to the top of your head when he looks and sees you’ve fallen asleep to the steady sound of his heartbeat.

The sound of your soft whimpers and delicate moans coming through the phone fill Harry’s New York bedroom, having been gone for five days on a spur of the moment business trip Jeff set up. When you told Harry you couldn’t go he didn’t try to beg you to change your mind, he might’ve mentioned how he wished you could come but while he may be paying for your life at the moment that doesn’t make him think he controls you and can force you to do things with him. But he’s not going to lie and say he wasn’t bummed, you’re his bestfriend and he enjoys spending time with you, that hasn’t changed since he started taking on a new role in your life, if anything it’s made him crave your company in more ways than one but that’s normal for how close the two of you are or at least that’s what he tells himself.

He knows this time is different than how he normally feels when he’s missing you because he’s been waking up painfully hard every morning and can only seem to get himself off to the the thought of his fingers pumping in and out of your soaked cunt or how your lips feel wrapped around his cock. He misses the way you feel when you fall apart for him, how his name sounds when it’s tumbling from your mouth like a prayer, how smiley and cuddly you are after he cleans you up and tucks you into bed. These are things he knows he shouldn’t be missing about you, but he can’t help it.

Now luckily for him he can tell by the way you’re practically humping your pillow with a hand between your thighs as you moan his name that you miss him too, miss the blissful pleasure that only he can bring you. It might be a little sick for him to get a small ounce of satisfaction watching you struggle to find relief without his help, but he can’t really control how his cock stiffens in his hand as he watches you fuck yourself and let out tiny moans and the prettiest groans of frustration as you grind your hips into the pillow.

“Look at you muffin.” His voice is thick with lust as he watches you try so hard to find relief, he knows you’re struggling to finish as you let out a whiny groan. “You look so good fucking those pretty little fingers-can hear how wet you are.” He tries his best to gently encourage you as his hand lazily strokes his cock, giving it a firm squeeze at the base when he hears you moan his name.

“Not enough.” You whine as your hips buck into your hand, your legs straddling your pillow that Harry uses when he sleeps over so it still smells like him, three fingers tucked inside your soaked pussy and your thumb circling your clit trying to reach your release but nothing is working. Your eyes are watering and you’re on the brink of begging Harry to come home early because you need him, and the thing is you know if you asked him to he would because you’re his bestfriend and he’ll do anything you ask, even if what you’re asking for is to be fucked by his fingers so you can finally feel relief.

“Need more-need you.” You pant as you close your eyes and increase the pressure on your clit in hopes it’ll make the pressure that’s building in your lower tummy reach it’s delicious end and have you tumbling into a pool of blissful pleasure.

“Two days muffin and you can have me.” He reminds you in a soft tone, he lets a smile take over his face as you keep your eyes closed while your hips roll into your hand that’s tucked between your pillow and your center. “Been thinking of how you looked on my lap right before I left-looked so pretty when you made a mess on my jeans.” You let out a moan as the memory begins to replay in Harry’s mind.

“Gonna miss you.” You mumble into the crook of Harry’s neck as you straddle one of his thighs as the two of you sit on the plush leather couch he has in his living room. “Don’t want you to go.” Harry lets out a small chuckle as feels you roll your hips seeking some sort of friction on your swollen clit that not even half an hour ago was being sucking between Harry’s plump lips as you gripped the headboard while you rode his face until you came so hard you swear you saw stars.

“Yeah? Want me to stay here with you all the time huh? Never leave the house and just have you on my lap all day?” He asks as his hands fall to your hips, his thumbs rubbing at the skin poking out from where your shirt ends a little above the waistband of your soft shorts.

“Yes.” You say with a sigh as you rub your clothed center over his jean clad thigh. Your hands grip his shoulders as you roll your hips making a soft breathy moan roll off your tongue.

“Such a needy little muffin.” His voice is teasing but also soft as his hands guide your hips so you’re rubbing yourself up and down his thigh, creating friction where you need it the most. The little whine you let out has Harry’s cock hardening in his jeans but he doesn’t have time to worry about that, his driver due to pick him up for the airport in a little under ten minutes, he wants to make sure you get what you need from him before he has to leave.

His hands tighten their hold on your hips, he hears your breathing turn heavy as you find the perfect angle and begin rolling your hips into him in a determined rhythm. The pressure beginning to build in your tummy as you lean your head back and grind down onto his thigh more firmly. Harry takes the opportunity to lean in and place his lips on your jaw, kissing his way down to your neck as soft moans of pleasure fall from your open mouth as you chase your release.

“That’s it muffin take what you need.” He encourages softly as he nips at the spot below your ear, your hands tighten their hold on his shoulders as you quicken your pace. “So pretty making a mess on my thigh.” He feels your legs squeezing around his thigh as his name rolls off your tongue, he guides your movements as a surge of pleasure rolls through you.

“Harry I’m-” Your words get cut off by his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss, his mouth moves against yours as you firmly grind down onto him making him swallow down your moans as you climax and start to tremble as your release soaks through your shorts making a wet spot on his jeans.

“Harry.” Your voice whining his name brings him back to the moment, his eyes looking at you through the screen of his phone as his hand is firmly gripping his cock giving it a few quick pumps. “I-I wanna come so bad.” You let out a groan as you grind down into the pillow.

“I can tell you’re close muffin you just have to relax okay?” He watches your hips stutter their movements as you let out a few deep breaths trying to do what he tells you. “There you go now curve those fingers of yours-”

“Oh.” Harry smiles when your mouth parts as you curve your fingers as you thrust them into your warm center, he watches you work yourself closer to the edge as your hand that’s not tucked inside you reaches up and grabs the headboard so you can steady yourself while increasing the pace of your hips.

“That’s it muffin doin so good.” His hips buck as he thumbs over the tip of his leaking cock, your moans get louder as you apply more pressure to your clit as you fuck your fingers while your thighs start to shake as they straddle your pillow. “Such pretty moans-keep going wanna see you soak those fingers.”

“Wish it was-oh shit.” Your grip on the headboard tightens as the pace of your thrusts quickens. “Wish it was your cock.” Harry lets out a deep moan as he fucks his fist while listening to the sounds of your fingers pumping in and out of your wetness.

“Two days muffin and you can fuck yourself on my cock all you want-shit you’re gonna look so pretty bouncing on me-oh fuck gonna make me come just thinking about it.”

“Want you to fill me up-want your come Harry please.” Harry has to close his eyes as your words tumble from your mouth as you let out a moan that has him nearly spilling all over his hand.

“Oh fuck-whatever you want muffin-shit shit you can have whatever you want.” He says between moans as he opens his eyes just in time to see your eyes roll back as your hips start to get sloppy with their movements and your walls clench around your fingers. “That’s it ride it out muffin-fuck yourself through it nice and slow.”

“Harry want-want you to come.” You pant as you try to come down from your high. “Need you to come for me want to see your face when you fall apart just like you do when you make a mess all over my pussy-please Harry.” It’s your sweet voice telling him such filthy things that has his hips jerking uncontrollably and his moth falling open as he spills his load all over his hand and lower tummy.

“Jesus.” He lets out a sigh as his head leans back against his headboard. “You know just how to wear me out muffin.” He hears you giggle as you reach over to grab your phone that was perched on your nightstand for the best view.

“Tired already? I was hoping for round two.”

“Oh round two? From the girl who was struggling so hard to finish round one?”

“Harry Styles.” Your voice is laced with faux shock making him give you a playful smile. “That was rude.” You tell him with a dramatic pout as he grabs his phone and heads for the bathroom to clean himself up.

“Sorry muffin. Feel free to punish me when I get home.” He says with a wink making you roll your eyes as you roll onto your back, the pillow you were using pushed to the side. “Don’t get too comfortable you-”

“If you tell me I need to go take a shower I’m going to hang up on you.” You threaten as Harry places his phone on the counter next to his sink so he can wet a washcloth and wipe off his hand and stomach. “Oh guess what.”

“What? You bought that dress you were drooling over in that little boutique the other day?”

“Well yes I did buy that while shopping with Amelia but that’s not what I want to tell you.” He raises an eyebrow as he finishes washing his hands, he can tell it’s something sort of big as he notices your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, something you only tend to do when you’re feeling nervous.

“What is it love?”

“I have a job interview next week.” Now Harry was semi prepared for you to tell him a lot of things, but informing him of a job interview wasn’t one of them. He has to check his face as he feels his eyebrows furrow and his lips roll together, an unwelcome feeling he can’t quite put his finger on beginning to form deep in his chest.

“Really? That’s great.” He says with as much excitement he can muster and a smile he knows doesn’t reach his eyes, but he has a feeling you’re just taking his mild reaction as him being tired since it’s near midnight for him in New York and he will happily play into that if it helps you not ask questions.

“Will you come with me to find an outfit to wear?” He nods his head as he looks around for his boxers he had on before your nightly FaceTime call that you made him agree to before he left.

“Of course.” He answers quickly, probably a little too quickly but you don’t seem to notice instead just grinning at him as he slips his boxers back on.

“Perfect.” He smiles as he sees you moving to get off your bed and head into your bathroom. “I’m going to go take a bath-”

“Oh can I watch?” You roll your eyes as he wiggles his eyebrows at you, doing his part in making sure you don’t sense a single ounce of weirdness coming from his side of the phone.

“Not tonight.” You tease making him laugh as he walks back into his bedroom. “I’ll talk to you later okay? If you fall asleep before I’m done then goodnight and I can’t wait to see you when you get home.”

“Two days.” He reminds you for what feels like the hundredth time today but he can’t help it, he’s excited to get back home. “Have a nice bath love, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye Harry.” You blow him a kiss that he dramatically catches and places on his cheek before you wave goodbye and end the call.

“What the fuck.” He groans as he tosses his phone onto the bed and runs a hand over his face. “She’s your bestfriend. Just your bestfriend. You need to be happy for her.” He tells himself as he lays in bed, his back against the soft sheets and plush pillow. “This was always temporary.” He says with a deep sigh, he feels as if his heart weighs ten times its usual amount as it sinks to the bottom of his chest.

“Just temporary.” He mumbles as he tries to shake off the weird feelings that are creeping up on him.

Harry can’t even hold back the grin that takes over his face as he lets himself into your apartment, the sun is barely beginning to rise making a soft glow peek through the curtains in your room. He makes sure to make as little noise as possible placing his duffle bag down near your bedroom door, slipping his jeans and t shirt off with ease before he climbs into bed. You’re cuddling a pillow close to your chest and his heart swells when he sees you’re wearing one of the t shirts he left you, wanting to make sure you had things of his for when you missed him while he was gone. His hand gently slides over your hip making you flinch when he pulls you into his chest.

“S’just me.” He whispers in your ear when you let out a sleepy gasp, your eyes barely open as you release your hold on your pillow so you can turn around in his arms.

“What’re you doing here?” Your words are jumbled together as you wrap yourself around him, almost as if you don’t really believe he’s actually here and not still across the country like he’s supposed to be for another day.

“Missed you.” He mumbles into your hair as he pulls you closer, having missed the warmth of your body pressed against his. “Got an earlier flight.” He answers having decided that if this whole thing between the two of you really is temporary then he’s not going to let a moment of it go to waste, so he got on the earliest flight he could to come back home, to come back to you.

“Missed you too.” He smiles as you rest your cheek on his chest when he lays on his back, his hands running up and down your back making you let out a soft sigh. “Missed your hands.” You mumble as your hand rests on his chest.

“Yeah? Just my hands?” He asks in a hushed tone as he lets his hand roam further down your back, softly grabbing at your ass making a faint gasp leave your lips.

“Harry.” Your voice is full of a need that he hasn’t heard before as you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

“I’m right here muffin.” He tells you softly as his hand travels under the hem of your shirt, pushing it up until it’s over the roundness of your ass making him let out a soft moan when he notices you’re only wearing his shirt and nothing else. “Tell me what you need.” He says as he moves so he’s hovering over you, a smile taking over his face when you reach up and run your hands through his hair.

“I just need you.” You answer as you pull him down for a kiss, your arms loosely wrap around his neck as his lips lazily move against yours not feeling the need to rush anything. He slips his tongue past your lips and feels you pull his down closer as he explores your mouth with his tongue. It’s not until you moan into his mouth that he realizes his hips are rolling his clothed cock against your core. When he pulls away he reaches a hand down between your thighs and lets out throaty groan when he slides his index finger through your slick folds.

“Missed how wet you get for me.” Your hands grip the tops of his shoulders when he slides his finger into your wetness. “Oh muffin.” He moans as he pumps his thick digit in and out of you slowly a few times before pulling it out and bringing it to his lips so he can get a quick taste. “Fuck I need more-can I get a proper taste of you?”

“Yes yes.” You pant as he ruts his hips into you making his hard cock nudge at your clit. Harry leans down and kisses you down the middle of your chest over your shirt until he’s placing soft kisses to your tummy as he lowers himself between your thighs, tossing your comforter to the end of the bed so he has all the access to you he needs. “Oh god.” You moan as Harry dips his middle and index finger into you, his eyes lock on yours as he takes his time pumping his fingers into you, earning him soft moans and a gasp when he curves them just right so he’s hitting that spot that has your hips bucking to meet his thrusts.

“God I missed your sweet little pussy.” He says with a groan as he slides his fingers out of you, collecting your arousal on them before he sucks them clean. “Oh fuck.” He moans as he slowly leans down and licks a stripe up the front of your pussy before dipping the tip of his tongue inside your tight hole.

“Missed your tongue-oh god Harry.” One of your hands tangles in his hair while the other one grips at your sheets as he slowly fucks his tongue into you, his thumb rubbing teasingly slow circles on your clit as he swirls his tongue inside you.

“So good-shit.” His hips roll into the mattress as the sound of your breathy moans go straight to his hardening cock.

“Want your-oh fuck Harry I want your cock.” You pant as Harry’s tongue begins to fuck into you a little faster, your grip in his hair loosening as your hips roll up to meet the pace of his tongue. “Wanna come on your cock.” You tell him with a whiney moan that has Harry pulling away from your glistening cunt, his eyes are a swirling mixture of lust and something else as he looks up at you.

“You sure muffin?” He asks softly as his your hand releases its grip on his hair, his hands resting on your hips as his lips place soft kisses to the inside of your thighs.

“Yes-yes please want your cock.” He smiles against your soft skin of your thigh, giving your pussy one last swipe of his tongue earning him a moan as he hovers above you.

“How do you want me?” He asks as he leans down and drags his lips across your jaw, your hands go to the waistband of his boxers making Harry close his eyes as you push them down until his cock springs free and he kicks them off making them land on the floor.

“Inside me.” You answer making a soft chuckle leave Harry’s lips as he kisses down your neck. “I want you inside me-just you.” You mumble as your hand wraps around his shaft giving him a few slow pumps.

“Muffin what does that-” his question gets lost in his throat as you wrap a leg over his hip and pull him closer to you so his tip is right at your entrance.

“Please Harry.” Harry has to bite down on his bottom lip and close his eyes as you whisper in his ear. “Wanna feel you.” You pant making him nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck while your hands grab onto his arms when he slowly pushes the tip of his thick cock into your soaked cunt.

“Holy shit.” He groans as he pushes deeper into you feeling your walls clench and throb around him, he pauses letting you adjust to him as your hands grab at his back at how overwhelming it feels to finally have his thick cock inside you. “Gotta relax for me muffin.” His voice is strained but still soft as he kisses up your neck and up to your jaw.

“So good.” He smiles as he picks his head up so he can look at your face as he slowly pushes the rest of his cock into you until you’re full of him.

“I knew you’d feel good but fuck-you feel like heaven.” He doesn’t move as he rests his forehead against yours needing a moment to take in just how good it feels to be tucked up deep inside of you. His lips find yours in a kiss that leaves you breathless as he rolls his hips into yours causing the tip of his cock to nudge a spot deep inside you that makes you arch into him as a shockwave of pleasure zips through you all the way down to your toes.

“Oh god Harry.” You moan as Harry’s hips finds a pace that has your nails digging into his back at how slow and languid his thrusts are. He pulls back until just his tip is inside your snug pussy and then slowly pushes back in, making your eyes close at how you can feel every inch of his thick cock as he pushes inside you.

“Takin me so well muffin like your pussy was made for me.” He says with a groan as his hips quicken their pace just enough to get your hands to drop to grab the sheets. “Fuck you’re soaking my cock.” You let out a gasp when he leans back gently grabbing one of your legs and placing it on his shoulder as he looks down where the two of you are connected, letting out a deep moan as he watches his cock disappear into your tight hole.

“So deep-oh fuck.” You say between soft moans.

“You like how deep I can get like this muffin?” He asks as he reaches down and presses his thumb over your swollen clit making your hips jolt up to meet his thrusts as you cry out his name. “Oh shit-that’s it fuck you hear that? Hear me making your sweet little cunt a soaked mess with my cock?” The sounds coming from your bedroom is music to Harry’s ears as he quickens his pace, his thrusts becoming more determined as he pulls all the way out just to push back into you making the wet sounds of his cock fucking into your pussy fill the room.

“Oh god oh shit-oh shit oh god.” Your moans get louder with each thrust of Harry’s hips and tight circle his thumb rubs over your clit. “Harry-oh fuck Harry- oh god Harry.”

“That’s it baby let your annoying neighbors know who’s making you feel this good.” The petname rolls off his tongue without his permission, but instead of ruining the moment it only seems to make you clench around him causing him to let out a choked moan as your walls pulse around his thick shaft.

“Don’t stop-oh yes yes right there Harry-fuck.” He begins thrusting into you harder now as feels how close you are to coming undone on his cock.

“Wanna be buried deep in this pussy all day-shit baby you feel too good wrapped around me like this.” He watches as you bring your hands up and grab your breasts as your back arches. “Oh shit-fuck never gonna leave you again just wanna fuck my big cock into this tight cunt all the time.”

“God yes- oh you’re so big Harry.”

“Yeah you like my big cock don’t you baby?”

“Yes yes love it-oh I’m gonna come-oh oh.”

“That’s it baby come all over me.” He says between harsh thrusts that have the tip of his cock nudging that sweet spot inside of you that makes yours eyes snap shut and your mouth to fall open. “Fuck you’re so pretty when you come-shit can feel you squeezing me-oh fuck.” You cry out his name over and over as your release hits you like a ton of bricks with how intense it is, you grab your breast and arch your back off the bed as you soak Harry’s cock making his eyes practically roll into the back of his head at how good it feels when you start to pulse and tighten around his cock.

“So good for me baby you’re doin so good taking my cock so well.” He praises you as he lightens the pressure his thumb has on your clit as he fucks you through your orgasm, his own release not far behind as he watches your chest rise and fall rapidly trying to catch your breath. “Shit shit-fuck baby I’m so close.” He tells you with a deep moan, your wet tight walls clench around him as your hips rise to meet his thrusts that have become harder and more determined as he chases his release.

“Fill me up Harry want to be stuffed full of you.” You pant as he fucks into you, when his eyes find yours he swears he could’ve bursted right then and there with how angelic you look as the soft morning light casts a soft glow to your face, you give him a smile and a nod that answers his silent question and that’s all it takes.

“Jesus-fuck.” His head falls back as his thrusts turn sloppy, his hip gives you one last harsh thrust plunging his cock as deep inside you as it can go before he feels his abs tighten and his warm load is being shot deep inside your tight pussy, your name mixed with a few curse words fall from his lips as he slowly fucks himself through his own release. “Gonna fill you up baby-stuff you full of my come until it’s dripping out of your sweet little hole.” His words have you moaning as he slowly pulls out and then pushes back, the squelching sound of him pushing back inside you make his cock twitch as your pussy squeezes around him and drains him of every last drop he has.

“Holy fuck.” You try to catch your breath as Harry places your leg back on the bed and leans over you, still tucked inside you and presses his lips to yours for a short but sweet kiss.

“You okay?” He asks checking on you once he pulls away, you give him a sleepy grin as you nod and place your hands on the sides of his face.

“I’m amazing.” You tell him making him grin as he leans down to place a kiss to your forehead.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He says as he slowly pulls out of you, he kisses your cheeks and the tip of your nose as you let out little whines at the emptiness you feel without him deep inside you. “S’okay baby we have all day-can have me as many times as you want.” He reminds you between little pecks to your lips making you smile as he moves to lay down beside you.

“M’not getting up to shower.” You tell him with as much sternness as you can making him have to hold back a laugh.

“We’ll do that after we take a little nap okay? Know you’re tired.” He reassures you with little kisses to the side of your face.

“You came home early.” You mumble into his chest as you cuddle into his side, Harry just lets out a soft chuckle as he reaches down to grab the blankets.

“I did.” He says as he pulls the covers up to your chest. “Missed you too much to stay one more day.” He explains making you smile against him as he wraps an arm around you.

“Missed you a lot.” You tell him as you close your eyes. “Next time I’ll go with you.” He smiles at how jumbled up your words get when you’re sleepy, he just pulls you closer into his side and places a kiss to the top of your head, it’s not long that he finds himself drifting off to sleep to the soft sounds of your breathing and your warm hand on his chest holding onto him almost as if you’re worried he’s going to slip away while you sleep.

“Is this what they call girl dinner?” Harry asks in amusement as he watches you pick up your martini to take a sip after just shoving a handful of fries into your mouth. “Because if it is then I can see why it’s so popular I mean who doesn’t love a dirty martini with a side of truffle fries?” You send him a playful glare as you swallow down a sip of your drink before placing it back on the table.

“Normally I also get a salad but wasn’t feeling it tonight.” You tell him with a shrug as you lean back into the booth the two of you are sitting across from each other in that’s tucked away in the corner of a restaurant Harry brought you to after taking you shopping for a new outfit for your job interview next week.

“What do you want to do after this nutritious meal? Fancy a walk around that park with the mean ducks and that goose who likes to nip at your shoelaces?” He asks as his hand finds yours that’s resting on the table, you smile as he mindlessly traces little circles on your palm before interlocking his fingers with yours. “Because I think it’s a perfect night for a walk in the park.” He adds as he brings your hand up to his lips so he can kiss at your knuckles.

“We can do that.”

“Perfect it’s-”

“Oh my god!” Harry’s head snaps in the direction of a loud shriek and he’s ready to tell whoever it is that he’s not in the mood to be bothered but then he sees it’s a woman who appears to know you, not him or if she does recognize him she’s keeping it very well hidden.

“Cindy? What-oh my god.” You all but match the woman’s greeting as she approaches the table, you quickly drop Harry’s hand as if it was burning you leaving it to fall into his lap as you turn your attention towards the person who is interrupting his dinner.

“I’m in town for a work thing I didn’t-” Cindy’s eyes scan the table and when they land on Harry he can’t even offer her a fake smile, no he just lets her have a tight lipped smile and a head nod making her cheeks get pink as if she can feel the annoyance radiating off of him. “oh where are my manners I can see you’re busy just call me-”

“Oh don’t be silly it’s just Harry.” Your voice is friendly and sweet making the words that just left your mouth seem to sting that much more as they hit Harry’s ears. “We are having a drink and some-”

“Fries? Talk about a well balanced meal.” Cindy says making you laugh as Harry’s jaw tightens and his hands are clasped together in his lap, not finding the current situation amusing in the slightest.

“Are you with anyone? You should join us-would that be okay?” When you finally turn to look at him Harry is already sliding out of the booth, you raise an eyebrow at him as he motions for your friend to take his seat.

“I’ll let you two catch up.” He tells you with a smile he knows you’ll be able to tell is forced. “Lovely meeting you Cindy.” He says as she slides into the booth across from you.

“Are you sure? You don’t-”

“I’ll talk to you later.” He is about to lean down and press his lips to yours in a kiss but he catches himself and it lands on the top of your head instead. “Have fun.” He whispers into your ear before standing up and giving the two of you a little wave as he turns to head towards the door.

“Is that your boyfriend?”

“Oh no-no no no he’s just a friend.” Harry’s heart feels like its being stabbed as each word leaves your mouth, having forgotten his phone at the table causing him to turn around and of course he would arrive just in time to hear them fall from your pretty lips.

“Sorry forgot this.” He apologizes as he grabs his phone off the table, slipping it in his pocket and avoiding your eyes as they practically beg him to look in your direction. You know he heard you, you know it upset him by the way the corners of his mouth are turned downward in a almost hidden frown but she’s been friends with him for too long not to know the signs that he’s upset.

“He’s cute and seems nice.” Cindy states with a wiggle of her eyebrows once she’s sure he’s out of hearing range. You just let out an awkward laugh and shrug, not knowing how to tell her that Harry is way more than nice, he’s about as perfect as someone can be.

“Yeah he’s-he’s wonderful.” You tell her as you reach for your drink suddenly feeling as if your throat has gone completely dry.

Harry runs a hand through his hair as he walks towards the park the two of you were going to take a stroll through after dinner. Needing to clear his head before going back to your apartment to gather his things and head to his house for the night, he’s not ready to be alone in a house that oddly is beginning to feel less and less like his home and more like a temporary dwelling between his nights spent with you wrapped around him in your tiny apartment.

“Just Harry.” He mumbles to himself as he sits on a bench. “Just a friend.” He says with a sigh as he closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath. “It’s all just temporary.” He knows he doesn’t have a valid reason to be upset, and it’s not that he’s upset with you it’s more so he’s upset that it’s taken him this long and this twist in your relationship for him to realize something.

“I’m just in love with her.” He says to himself with a heavy sigh, not sure what to do with his newly discovered feelings he does the only thing he can think of as he pulls his phone out of his pocket and hit call on the third person under his favorites.

“Hey H! What’s up mate?” Niall’s voice is happy and bubbly through the phone and the way it irritates him just further proves to Harry that he is in need of some cheering up or at least some distracting so he feels anything but miserable about the idea of being in love with you while you see him as just Harry your temporary sugar daddy but more importantly just a friend.

“You in town and fancy a night out?”

“Hell yeah let me get dressed an I’ll meet ya out.”

“Perfect I’ll send you my location.” With that Harry hangs up and heads for the pub him and Niall usually go to when both of them are in town and have the time for a few drinks. He knows this isn’t the healthiest way to deal with unwanted feelings but he figures is you’re getting to enjoy a few drinks with your friend then he should be able to do the same thing. Besides Niall will make sure he doesn’t make a fool of himself, or at least that’s what he hopes as he walks down the street towards the familiar pub.

[gurugirl]

guru, i have a requests bc I need something ✨fluffy✨ as im healing from closing my fingers in my front door!!

could you write any harry au finding out that the reader is in paramore and wrote the only exception for him?

Oh my gosh your fingers! Ahh I hope you didn’t break anything! 😬

Feel better soon hon ❤️‍🩹 Enjoy! (also I hope this is what you wanted )

A/N: I didn't mention Paramore specifically (except for some bits of the song) nor are there any physical descriptions of Y/n so it's inclusive! Imagine who you like! xoxo

Word Count: 1,174

Warning: FLUFFFFFFFFYYYY SWEET! (Harry has a quick moment of anxiety)

. .

Harry wasn’t sure what he was looking at when he saw it. Maybe you were just playing a joke on him—? He always thought your singing voice kind of reminded him of a band he'd heard on the radio a few times… but this?

There you were on video. Right in his phone... wearing a very short skirt hopping around on stage like that. You were usually more of a jeans and t-shirt or sweater gal. It was clearly you–but it was like watching a doppelganger of you.

He blinked his eyes at his screen. His apartment was quiet as he was just waking up and still sitting in his bed. It was a normal morning routine. Wake up and check social media, emails, his daily schedule…

He had no idea how this had come across his feed. You. Like that. He rubbed his eyes. Was he still dreaming?

You hadn't been dating all that long but you were both already head over heels. It'd happened so fast and there was still so much to learn about one another but he knew you were it just like he hoped you felt the same. He knew you had a band and he'd heard you sing. You had guitars at your place and you wrote poems and lyrics in your notebook all the time. You were talented.

A text popped up on his screen from you.

See you in five minutes!

Scooting himself out of bed so he could at least brush his teeth he clicked on the page that had posted the video and there were more! Of you! Of this band that he'd heard of in passing. He held the phone up and started watching the next video. You were singing for a semi-large crowd. He pressed the button on his electric toothbrush and felt his heart thrumming harder and harder as you started singing another song. A song he'd heard on the radio.

It was surreal to see you like that. Why hadn't you told him? Why was he finding out like this? Did you not want him to know? Did you not see a future with him at all?

The questions in his brain were buzzing as various puzzle pieces began to fall into place. It made so much sense now that he was thinking of everything but it also had him worried that you never told him. Maybe you didn't trust him.

When he was done brushing his teeth he splashed water on his face and pressed his palms over his sink counter. He was going to have to confront you.

He looked down at his phone and clicked on the next video. The most recently uploaded video.

"I'm Y/n! Thank you for being here with us tonight!" The crowd was loud and he could hear some whistles and cheering.

"This next song is about a guy that I'm falling for hard. It wasn't supposed to happen. I didn't think it ever would. I haven't told him yet but I have this song." You began to sway as the guitarist started to play. "This is for love. For anyone who's felt it. This is for Harry."

He blinked at the screen and you began to sing.

"When I was younger, I saw my daddy cry and curse at the wind..."

Harry was startled when he heard you knocking at his door. You were there and he was reeling from everything he'd just learned. Pausing the video he made his way to his door and opened it to see your pretty face. You immediately stepped in and wrapped your arms around his middle for a big hug.

He hesitantly placed his arms around you after he closed his door. But you noticed something was off. Harry was still holding his phone in his hand as you looked up at him.

"Everything okay?"

He looked like he was unable to put thoughts into words. Like he was stunned or hadn't expected to see you, even though you'd made plans to come over. Stepping back you clutched your hands over his wrists. "Harry?"

His throat bobbed when he swallowed and he blinked his eyes. "You're famous."

Your heart stopped. You knew he'd find out soon. You'd planned on telling him but it was always tricky telling people. You'd dated people in the past that were just looking for clout or trying to get there own name out there by using you. So it was a precaution. But you didn't need to hide it from Harry anymore.

"Yes. Well... kind of. I mean... a lot of people don't really know who I am. I'm not like at that level of fame but—"

"You don't trust me?"

"I do trust you, Harry. I promise." You slid your palms up his forearms and stepped in closer. "I was going to tell you. I just got a little scared because everything happened so fast between us. It just... I wanted to make sure first. I swear I've been planning to tell you because I... god... I just want to tell you everything."

"I don't understand why you never said anything." He shook his head but he didn't pull away from you.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to find out before I told you. I wanted to share something really special with you and tell you in this like... really romantic way."

He moved his arm and opened up his phone before you heard your song being playe. The song you wrote for him. His eyes flitted from you to his phone as the lyrics you sang poured out around you.

Because none of it was ever worth the risk... Well, you are the only exception...

Harry looked at you, a sheen of tears in his eyes as he let the song play out. You kept your hand on his forearm and let the lyrics do the talking. You just hoped he understood. You hoped that he could see why it took you a bit to work up to telling him.

Oh, and I'm on way to believing…

He tucked his phone into his sweatpants pocket and looked at you with soft eyes. Taking his hands into yours you smiled up at him.

"I have a lot to tell you."

He puffed out a low laugh. "I think that's an understatement."

"Are you mad at me?"

He shook his head. "Kind of hard to be mad after hearing that song you wrote for me. Is all that true, Y/n?" He pulled his hand out of yours and lifted his warm palm up to your cheek.

"Yes. Every word of it."

"Does that mean you love me?"

Your heartbeat tripped up on itself as you nodded. "I do. I love you."

His eyes were piercing and so deep with emotion, you'd drown in them happily. "I guess it's time for me to confess something to you then, too." He grinned and you felt his hand move back to cradle your nape. "I love you too."

. .

@yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @tiaamberxx @closureesny

@angelbabyyy99 @malwtilda @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @onlyangellucifer

@harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @lc-fics @hannahdressedasabanana @babegoalsreads

@harrrrystylesslut @elidoho @gotdrxnkonu @cathy-1997 @imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa

@tiredinwinter @angeldavis777 @lillefroe @monicaalexandraaa @hsonlyangelxo

@brittanyzelazno @lemoncrushh @caynonmoondreams @mellamolayla @ladscarlett

@heartateasee @littlenatilda @finelinepie @michellekstyles @harrysredroom

@harrydeary @mrs-anna-styles211994 @devilsqueen722 @bananabk9756 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite

@idkkkkkkk123lgb @freedomfireflies @fruity-harry @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @mema10

@gmikaelson

[lemoncrushh]

Show Me Your Texts, or It's Over

Summary: Harry finds out you've been in contact with your ex and gives you an ultimatum.

Warnings: angst, maybe a little gaslighting

Word Count: 1889

A/N: From my 2016 collection. This was based on a prompt selected by a reader. Very angsty. You won't like Harry in this, and maybe not y/n either. I almost didn't repost it, but please don't take it too seriously.

You hurried outside to your car, the summer heat threatening to burn you through your black shirt. You felt the vibration of your phone in your hand, alerting you of yet another text from Harry. He'd been texting you all morning and throughout your lunch break. It had started off as a harmless conversation of missing each other when he'd reminded you what time his flight arrived. You'd been apart for over a week, resolving to short late night phone chatter until one of you fell asleep, or the occasional text that left you cold and flat. Needless to say, you were dying to see him.

As the morning progressed, however, so did the texts. His flight was delayed due to weather. He wasn't sure if he'd make it in time to go home and change, so he'd asked to meet you at the dinner party. You argued back and forth, insisting that you were fine with being a bit late if it meant you could go together.

You knew without a doubt that this text that had just arrived was him telling you otherwise, but you were already running late and needed to get back to work. You'd been excited for and anticipating his return, but now you were just frustrated and perturbed.

Tossing your purse and your phone in the passenger seat, you drove back to work. It wasn't until you were settled back in your desk, running your hands through your hair with a sigh, that you decided to examine his newest text. You were surprised, however, when you noticed the name. It wasn't from Harry. It was from your ex-boyfriend, John.

Biting your lip, you swiped the screen to read the text.

Working hard, or hardly working?

You chuckled, texting him back quickly.

Neither. Just got back from lunch.

Damn, I was hoping to persuade you to meet me for a bite.

You grinned at your screen. John had texted you out of the blue two weeks ago. At first you were apprehensive about talking to him again. He'd been the one to break off the relationship, claiming he wasn't ready to commit. You'd taken that to mean he wanted to be free to screw around, so you'd given him the boot. Although you held your head up high, you'd been hurt, your self-esteem lacking. That is, until you'd met Harry. Harry had been the solace that you'd needed, lifting you up repeatedly by his words as well as his actions.

When John came clean with you in his texts, apologizing and admitting that you deserved much more than he had given, you'd decided to bury the hatchet. There was no point in being bitter about it, and you forgave him, not so much for his sake, but for yours.

One thing you hadn't done, though, was tell Harry about it. It wasn't really that you were trying to hide it from him, but you didn't want it to become a big deal. Harry knew how John had treated you. You'd told him repeatedly, and a couple of times had cried in his arms over it. So telling him this same ex that had made you cry was now texting you like an old friend...probably wouldn't be a good idea.

Sorry, you texted John back. Raincheck?

Better yet, how about you meet me for drinks later?

You gritted your teeth, not sure how to answer. Asking for a raincheck on lunch was one thing. Lunch you could do. Probably. But drinks after work? Besides, you needed to run straight home after work to get ready for this dinner party with Harry.

As though he knew you were thinking of him, Harry's name popped up with a new text.

Flight's been delayed longer. I should be home about 7.

Just as you were about to reply, another text alert from John popped up.

How does Margo's sound?

You swallowed hard, trying to decide who to answer first. Quickly, you typed out a message for John.

Sorry, I can't tonight. Harry's coming home.

As soon as you hit send, your eyes about popped out of your head. You'd sent it to the wrong person! Shit!

You saw the three little dots pop up, indicating Harry was typing.

What??

Calming yourself down, you decided to play it cool. It was an accident. He had no idea who the message was for.

Haha sorry baby. I was talking to a friend. Didn't mean to send that to you. I'll see you at 7.

Ok

Making sure you had John's text open then, you politely declined, sending him the text you'd originally intended to.

Oh ok then, John sent back. Maybe some other time. Have fun!

"[Y/N]!" you heard Harry call from the front of the house.

"You're home!" you squealed from the bedroom.

You'd hoped to meet him at the door, greeting him with lavish kisses, but right then you were in an awkward position on the bed, trying to buckle your high-heeled strappy sandal.

"Hi, beautiful," he said in a low tone.

You looked up to see him standing in the doorway. Temporarily dismissing your buckle, you stood to meet him halfway, wrapping your arms around him.

"Mmm, I've missed you," you murmured against his chest.

"I missed you, too," he echoed, "and you look gorgeous."

"What, this old thing?" you playfully scoffed, stepping back to allow him to view your ensemble completely.

A sexy grin spread across his face while he set his suitcase against the wall.

"I'll hurry and get ready. Wish I had time for a shower."

"Go ahead," you insisted. "I don't mind waiting."

"No, love, we're already late. I'll just change."

You sat back down on your bed, grabbing your phone while Harry undressed. You'd gotten a couple of texts from John earlier. When you'd told him you were getting ready for a dinner party, he'd asked you to send a picture. You thought it was a little odd at first, but so far he hadn't said anything that made you feel uneasy. You'd sort of slipped into this comfortable friend zone unexpectedly. So a few minutes before Harry had arrived, you'd sent John a selfie in your dress. He had yet to reply.

Tossing your phone on the bed, you stood and walked to the vanity to put your earrings on. As you were adjusting the second one, Harry passed by the bed.

"Who's John?" he inquired, shoving his arms into a clean shirt.

"What?" you turned to look at him. You noticed then he was inspecting your phone.

"You just got a text from a John," he added.

Oh no.

"'Wow, you look amazing!'" Harry quoted, reading the text that John had apparently sent. "'Sexy as hell!'"

Your entire body trembled as he lifted his head to glare at you.

"Who the fuck is John?" he repeated, his voice rising.

"Um..." you sucked in your lips, wringing your hands.

"Not your bloody ex boyfriend!" Harry nearly shouted, his eyes narrowed.

"Baby-" you started, but Harry interrupted you.

"You're talking to him again? After what he did to you?"

"Harry," you swallowed, stepping towards him. "Let me explain."

His face showed no sign of willingness to listen to any explanation though he remained rooted in his spot.

"He's been texting me a little," you admitted.

"A little?" Harry raised a brow. "For how long?"

"A couple weeks."

"A couple weeks?! Were you gonna tell me?"

You looked down at your hands, wishing you had something in them to hold.

"I thought you'd be mad," you said meekly.

"Well you were right about that!" Harry turned away from you, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck!"

"Harry, I'm sorry," you muttered sincerely. "But I swear, it's harmless."

He swung around, his eyes shooting daggers at you. "Harmless, huh?"

"Yes. He wanted to apologize for everything. I told him I appreciated and accepted his apology, and we just got to talking about what we've been up to, you know, like catching up. I told him about you and-"

"You've told him about me," Harry interrupted.

"Yes! He knows all about you. He knows you were coming home today and we were going to a party."

"Is that..." he paused, "is that who you were texting earlier today? When you sent me the wrong text?"

The look on his face told you he did not find it funny in the least, regardless of your trying to play it off like you had. You opened your mouth to retort, but decided it wasn't worth it.

"Yes," you sighed.

"Shit," Harry dropped his shoulders. He blinked slowly before reaching for your phone.

"Let me see the texts," he demanded.

"What?" you asked incredulously.

"The texts from him. Your conversations."

Anger building in your chest, you grabbed your phone out of his hand.

"No!" you glared at him. "That's ludicrous!"

"Why? Because you have something to hide?"

"No, I-"

"Then show them to me, [Y/N]."

You stood silent for a moment before shaking your head slowly.

"Show me your texts, or it's over," said Harry.

"You can't be serious," you contended, your voice just a whisper.

"Dead serious."

"You..." you began, but quickly surrendered, handing him the phone. "Fine."

You sunk down onto the bed while Harry scrolled through your text messages from John. You knew there was nothing wrong with them. It was the principal. Harry didn't trust you, and that angered and disappointed you.

You focused on Harry's belt buckle while he stood before you. You felt like a child. You didn't appreciate it. You loved Harry and you would never to anything to sabotage your relationship. A tear dropped in your lap, wetting your dress before you even realized you'd been crying. Sniffling, you stood up again to reach for a tissue on the vanity.

"[Y/N]," you finally heard Harry mutter. He cleared his throat. "Baby, I'm sorry."

You turned and looked at him, your eyebrows raised. He lowered the phone, dropping it on the bed. Then he stepped closer to you, reaching for your hands.

"I'm so sorry," he declared again. You noticed a glint of a tear in his right eye.

"I was telling the truth," you said.

"I know," Harry bit his lip, the side of his mouth turning up. "You mentioned me a lot."

"I did," you nodded.

"And you said you're madly in love with me."

"I did."

"And that you're happy. For the first time in your life."

You blinked. "Yes, I did."

"God," Harry ran a hand through his hair again. "I was a jealous prat."

You giggled softly before placing your hands on his chest. "What on earth do you have to be jealous about?"

Harry grinned. "I mean...I still kinda think he's trying something. But I like how you sidestep him every time."

"Because I don't want him, Harry," you conveyed. "I want you. Only you."

You gazed into his eyes until he slipped his hands under your ears and lowered his mouth to capture yours.

"I really missed you," he murmured. "Maybe too much. It's made me do something I never thought I'd do."

"I'm yours, baby," you promised. "You don't have to worry about a thing."

You slid your hands down his torso.

"Except maybe about being late for dinner."

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[cloudyluun]

Sunburnt & Smitten (p2)

Summary: Harry wakes up knowing he majorly fucked up. He has one goal today: make sure you forgive him (and, preferably, forget all about the book he sacrificed to the sea). His tactics start with sweet bribery, escalate to shameless sabotage, and ultimately end with him pleading his case in bed, where he’s much better at holding your attention anyway.

A/N: OMG, besties. I cannot even BEGIN to tell you how much FUN this was to write. Like, truly, who gave Harry the right to be this cocky and hot and impossible to resist?? (Oh, wait. That were @harrywavycurly & me. My bad 😌✨.)

Hope you all enjoyed this absolute masterpiece of unhinged horny behavior. Please like, repost, scream in the comments, and remember: if he’s not buying you books after mind-blowing sex, what is he even doing?

Word Count: 5,5k

Warnings: 

Smut (obviously, babes)

Teasing & power shifts (we love a battle of wills)

Filthy, filthy desperation (you're welcome)

Harry being cocky AF (but also absolutely wrecked)

Bribery via books & vacations (the ultimate love language)

Emotional vulnerability disguised as pillow talk (cry about it)

[part 1]

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Harry wakes up first. And for a brief, beautiful moment, he forgets about his crimes.

The morning sun is already warming the room, spilling golden light through the open balcony doors. The waves are soft, the air smells of salt and citrus, and most importantly you’re still here, tucked beside him in bed. His heart swells at the sight.

But then he notices it.

Your arms are crossed, even in sleep. Lips slightly pursed.

A knot of dread forms in his stomach.

Oh. Right.

He threw your book into the ocean.

Harry grimaces, replaying the crime scene in his head. It had been impulsive. Driven by jealousy and a complete lack of self-preservation. And now, here he is, lying beside you like a man on death row, waiting for the verdict.

Carefully, he shifts onto his side, resting on his elbow as he watches you stir awake.

He needs to fix this. Immediately.

“Morning, angel,” he murmurs, brushing a featherlight kiss to your shoulder. His lips linger, soft and sweet, an offering of peace.

You hum in response. But don’t move closer.

Oh, fuck.

His chest tightens. He’s in real trouble.

Time for damage control: “Operation: Bribe your girlfriend with breakfast.”

Harry moves fast. One second, he’s in bed with you, the next, he’s bolting down the stairs, determined to bribe his way back into your good graces.

Ten minutes later, he returns with a perfectly curated breakfast tray.

Fresh coffee, made exactly how you like it.

Flaky, buttery croissants.

A little bowl of berries, because he knows you like something light in the morning.

And—his pièce de résistance—a single flower he nicked from the villa’s garden.

He softens his footsteps, placing the tray on the bedside table before climbing back into bed.

You’re fully awake now, blinking at him suspiciously as he pulls the covers up, tucking you into the warmth of his chest.

“For you, my love,” he says dramatically, presenting the tray as if offering you the world itself.

He leans in, nuzzling your jaw, voice a syrupy sweet murmur.

“My muse. My heart. The only person I have ever loved.”

Your eyes narrow. “The person whose book you MURDERED?”

He flinches. “Right. That too.”

The Phone Snatching Incident

You exhale sharply, sitting up to grab your coffee. You don’t push him away, but you don’t cuddle into him either. That’s a bad sign.

Still, he waits. Watches. Hopes.

You sip your coffee. Take a bite of the croissant. Even pluck the little flower from the tray, twirling it between your fingers.

Harry holds his breath.

Just as he starts thinking maybe, just maybe, he’s done enough—

You reach for your phone.

His stomach drops.

“What are you doing?” he asks, voice calm but internally panicking.

“Checking if I can get a digital copy of the book you sent to a watery grave,” you reply flatly, eyes on the screen.

Oh, hell no.

Before you can so much as type in the title, Harry snatches your phone away.

“Harry—!”

“Just hear me out, love—”

He rolls onto his back, holding the phone high above his head like a petty, overgrown child. You scramble onto your knees, reaching for it, but he’s got longer arms and zero shame.

“Harry, give it back!” you huff, straddling his waist now, fully prepared to fight him for it.

He smirks. Oh, he likes this position.

“Can’t,” he says, tossing your phone onto the other side of the bed. Far away from your reach.

Your glare could set him on fire.

“Why the fuck not?”

He grins. "Because, angel… I’m much more fun than a book."

Harry may have successfully delayed your vengeful book shopping spree, but you’re persistent and still mad.

So, when he eventually gets up to shower, you stealthily retrieve your phone & ereader, curling up on a lounge chair outside. The private deck overlooks the sparkling blue ocean, but you barely notice it as you quickly download the digital copy of your book.

Victory.

With a smug little smile, you settle in. Sunglasses on. Drink beside you.

Finally.

Peace.

You barely make it two pages before your peace is shattered.

A shadow falls over your screen.

A large, wet, obnoxious shadow.

You glance up.

Harry stands before you, dripping wet, curls plastered to his forehead, wearing only his swim trunks.

Your jaw clenches.

He smirks. “Can’t believe you’re really choosing a book over me, love.”

You sigh heavily, shifting your sunglasses down your nose to glare at him. “I wouldn’t have to if someone hadn’t THROWN MY FIRST COPY INTO THE OCEAN.”

Harry winces theatrically, placing a hand over his heart as if you’ve just stabbed him.

“Oof. Still sore about that, huh?”

Your deadpan stare could strip paint from walls.

He licks his lips, eyes flicking toward your screen. “What’re you reading now?”

“My replacement copy,” you say pointedly, lifting the e-reader so he can see.

Harry snorts. “Oh, so you’re serious about this, then.”

“Dead serious.”

His grin widens.

And suddenly, before you can react, he scoops you up.

You yelp, e-reader slipping from your grasp as he lifts you effortlessly from the lounge chair, one arm under your back, the other beneath your thighs.

“Harry, DON’T YOU DARE—”

Too late.

He tosses you into the pool.

SPLASH.

The water is cool and shocking, knocking the breath from your lungs as you resurface, gasping.

Dripping. Spluttering. FURIOUS.

"YOU MENACE."

Harry, the actual devil, is leaning lazily against the pool’s edge, grinning like he just won an award for Best Boyfriend Ever.

“Had to make sure you were paying attention to me, didn’t I?”

You stare at him. Unblinking. Seething.

You lift a hand and splash a huge wave of water right into his smug fucking face.

He laughs, shaking his head like a wet dog, flinging water everywhere.

You cross your arms. “Buy me the whole fucking series, and I might consider forgiving you.”

Harry tilts his head, pretending to think.

Then he lunges, gripping your waist beneath the water, yanking you into him. Chest to chest. Nose to nose.

"How about I buy you the series," he murmurs, voice low and persuasive, "and you promise to read it to me?"

Your lips part slightly, breath catching at the way his fingers trace slow, teasing circles on your waist.

"Read it to you?"

He nods, lips ghosting against your jaw, trailing wet kisses down your neck.

“Every single word.”

For a brief, fleeting moment, he has you.

His voice is low, warm breath fanning across your damp skin, fingertips tracing slow circles on your waist beneath the water. You feel yourself leaning in, your resolve cracking, just a little.

And then—

Your e-reader, floating pitifully a few feet away, bumps against your arm.

You blink.

Your anger resurfaces instantly.

“Nice try, Styles.” You push a hand against his chest, untangling yourself from his grasp and wading away.

He groans, tipping his head back dramatically. “Oh, come on, angel—”

“Nope.” You snatch the e-reader, wiping water from the screen. “You don’t get to seduce your way out of this. You committed a crime.”

“Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

You shoot him a glare over your shoulder as you climb out of the pool. “You murdered my book in cold blood.”

Harry grins as he watches you grab a towel, wrapping it around your waist before flopping back onto a lounge chair. “I did you a favor, really. Now you don’t have to waste time on it.”

“Oh, trust me,” you say, lifting your e-reader again, scrolling through your downloaded pages. “I’ll be making up for lost time.”

And just like that—you’re back to reading.

Game. Set. Match.

Or so you think.

Because Harry fucking Styles is nothing if not persistent.

Less than five minutes pass before you hear it.

The long, drawn-out sigh of a man who is deeply, deeply suffering.

You ignore it.

Then, another. Louder.

You shift your sunglasses up, peering over the rim.

Harry is flopped dramatically onto the deck, arms sprawled out, sunglasses perched on his nose, looking for all the world like a tragic poet wasting away on the sands of time.

You blink.

He sighs again.

Louder. More pained.

You press your lips together, willing yourself not to react.

Another sigh.

A groan.

A soft, tortured whimper.

You snap your book shut. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Harry immediately perks up, but quickly rearranges his face into an expression of pure, unfiltered melancholy.

"It’s just… hard, y’know?" he murmurs, voice thick with existential despair.

You roll your eyes. “What is, exactly?”

He exhales deeply, shifting onto his side, propping his head up on one hand.

“Knowing I’m not enough for you.”

You stare at him.

He sighs again, this time with even more dramatic weight, and throws an arm over his forehead.

Your eyebrow twitches. “Harry.”

“Don’t.” He holds up a hand, eyes still closed behind his sunglasses. “No, really, don’t. Nothing you say can fix this.”

“Oh, for the love of—”

“I’ll just be here.” He gestures weakly to the deck, as if it’s his grave. “Alone. Forgotten. Wishing I was a paperback novel.”

Your jaw drops.

“Harry, are you fucking serious?”

“Shh.” He presses a finger to his lips, as if shushing the wind. “No words. Just let me… waste away.”

You gape at him.

Before you can stop it, a laugh bubbles up.

Because this man is absolutely ridiculous.

He’s pouting beneath his sunglasses, sprawled out like he’s auditioning for a tragic French film, sighing dramatically every few seconds just to make sure you know how deeply, deeply unloved he is.

And it’s so absurd, so childish, so Harry, that you can’t even pretend to be mad anymore.

You set your book down with a sigh, shaking your head.

“Alright, Mr. Clingy. What do you want?”

Instantly, Harry moves.

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you effortlessly onto him, your legs tangling as he buries his face in your neck.

"Want you to pay attention to me.”

His voice is warm, pleading, lips brushing against your skin.

You huff, but your fingers are already sneaking into his curls, combing through the damp strands.

He hums in satisfaction.

You sigh. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

He grins against your shoulder.

And just like that, he wins.

Or at least, he thinks he does.

But you’re still clutching your half-drowned e-reader, your mind half-focused on the chapters you were about to dive into before he decided to ruin your entire day.

And Harry sees it.

The way your gaze flickers, the way your fingers twitch, the way—despite the fact that he is literally wrapped around you—you’re still thinking about that bloody book.

He needs to up his game.

So, he pulls back, just enough to study you, lips pursing.

Then, with a dramatic sigh, he peels himself off you and trudges away.

You blink. “What—”

Without a word, he comes to a halt at the very edge of the deck, standing stiffly with his arms crossed.

He just stands there.

You frown.

He sighs again.

Louder.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

No response.

You sit up, eyeing him. “Harry.”

He shifts his weight, staring out at the ocean, deep in thought.

A slight breeze tousles his curls, his profile bathed in golden light, jaw set, lips pressed together like he’s contemplating the meaning of life.

You narrow your eyes.

Something isn’t right.

He doesn’t look like he’s scheming anymore.

He looks…

Genuinely sad.

“…Harry?”

His shoulders rise, then fall.

And then, he speaks.

"D’you even love me anymore?"

Your mouth falls open.

“What?”

His chin tilts up, sunglasses slipping down his nose as he turns to face you, brows drawn together.

“I mean,” he shrugs, lips pursing, “you barely even looked at me today.”

You stare at him.

He continues, voice quiet now.

“And, I dunno… I just—” He licks his lips, tilting his head. “I just can’t help but think… maybe you love the book more than you love me.”

Your eye twitches.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Am I?” His brows arch, eyes scanning your face.

And for the first time all day, there’s no trace of teasing.

No grin hiding behind his words, no sly amusement in his expression.

He looks…

Heartbroken.

Like a sun-kissed, brokenhearted rockstar who just got his heart trampled on.

Your chest tightens.

Because fuck—Harry might be a menace, and he might be a walking, talking distraction, but…

He’s also yours.

And despite all his ridiculous antics today, despite the drama, the sabotage, the destruction of personal property…

You do love him.

You sigh.

Then, slowly, you set your book aside.

Harry watches you carefully, his expression unreadable as you push yourself up to your feet.

You take a single step toward him.

Then another.

His lips part, but he doesn’t say a word.

And then—

You’re right in front of him.

You cross your arms, tilting your head. “Alright, Mr. Clingy. What do you want?”

For a moment, he just stares.

In an instant, he lunges.

His arms lock around your waist, pulling you in, your feet barely touching the deck as he buries his face in your neck.

You yelp, hands gripping his shoulders to steady yourself.

His voice is warm, muffled against your skin.

“Want you to pay attention to me.”

You exhale, a soft, breathy laugh spilling from your lips.

He tightens his grip, nose nudging against your jaw.

You roll your eyes, but your fingers are already slipping into his curls again, tugging lightly.

And just like that—

He wins. Again.

But this time…

You let him.

You tilt his chin up, brushing your lips against his pout.

Soft. Lingering.

He sighs into it, melting.

And when you pull back, he chases after you, lips grazing yours once more, arms still locked around you.

You laugh, pressing another kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Alright, rockstar.” You smile. “You win.”

His eyes flicker, bright with mischief again.

“Good.”

Then, with zero hesitation—

He picks you up.

You barely have time to gasp before his arms tighten around you, one beneath your thighs, the other braced against your back, his grip possessive, effortless. He doesn’t just carry you inside, he owns every step, moving with the kind of confidence that sends a jolt of heat straight to your core. His body is warm, radiating with that sun-kissed heat, his skin smelling of salt, faded cologne, and the lingering remnants of sunscreen.

"Harry—"

He doesn't let you finish.

The villa is quiet, save for the sound of his footsteps against the wooden floorboards. Outside, the ocean crashes against the shore, the rhythm of the waves almost in sync with your pulse—fast, pounding, uneven. He walks like a man with purpose, a man who knows exactly what he wants and has no problem taking it.

The moment you cross the threshold of the bedroom, something shifts.

Your back barely brushes the mattress before Harry follows, taking you down with him in one smooth, fluid motion.

You land on top of him, thighs bracketing his waist, hands catching yourself against the firm planes of his chest. His body is all lean muscle and warmth beneath you, the faint sheen of saltwater drying against his skin, the slow, teasing press of his hands sliding down your back to your hips.

There’s no rush to it—not yet.

Just slow, drawn-out anticipation, a game neither of you are quite willing to lose.

Harry watches you, gaze heavy-lidded, a smirk tugging at his lips. His hands flex against your skin, like he’s resisting the urge to flip you over and take control. You can see it in the way his jaw clenches, the way his Adam’s apple bobs when you shift slightly, just to test him.

You lean in, letting your lips ghost over his jaw, the scent of him—salt and warmth and something inherently Harry—filling your senses.

"You know, H," you murmur, voice slow, syrupy, dragging each syllable like honey. "If you wanted my attention that badly, all you had to do was ask."

His smirk doesn’t waver.

If anything, it deepens.

"I think I’ve done more than ask, love."

His voice is husky, rough with amusement and something heavier underneath. His hands slide up your sides, the heat of his palms searing against your bare skin. He doesn’t push—just holds, just lingers, waiting.

Waiting for you to make the next move.

You tilt your head, pretending to consider it, even as you shift in his lap, the slow drag of your body against his drawing the faintest hiss from between his teeth. His fingers twitch, grip tightening, but he doesn’t move.

Not yet.

"Mm," you hum, tilting your head. "And you think you deserve a reward for that?"

Harry swallows, the muscle in his jaw ticking.

"Maybe?"

You let the silence stretch between you like a taut thread, watching as the tension builds in his body. It’s delicious—the way his muscles twitch beneath your fingers, how his breath comes just a little quicker, how his fingers flex as if resisting the overwhelming urge to grab at you.

His wrists are still pinned beneath your hands, right where you left them. He could move if he wanted to, if he really wanted to—Harry is stronger than you, faster, more than capable of flipping you over and taking control. But he doesn’t.

He stays still.

Obedient.

Because despite the cocky smirk lingering at the corner of his mouth, despite the teasing spark still faintly flickering behind his darkening green eyes—he knows exactly what you’re doing. He knows he fucked up. He knows you’re going to make him work for it. And worst (or best) of all?

He likes it.

"Maybe."

You whisper the word like a promise, drawing your nails down the center of his chest—not hard enough to scratch, just enough to make him feel it, to make him shiver beneath you. His breath hitches at the sensation, his muscles tensing before relaxing again, like he's trying to keep himself in check.

You drag your fingertips lower, following the trail of fine hair disappearing beneath the waistband of his swim shorts. You don’t dip beneath, not yet, just rest your hands there, feeling the warmth of his skin, the way his abs tighten with anticipation.

His jaw ticks.

You smile.

You shift slightly, just enough to press your weight down where he’s already hard against you, and he exhales sharply through his nose. His fingers twitch against the sheets, grip tightening, and you know—know—he's barely holding onto his self-control.

Good.

Leaning in, you ghost your lips over his jaw, not quite kissing, just enough to tease. He turns his head slightly, chasing the touch, but you pull back. His lips part in frustration, his brows pulling together as he lets out a quiet, ragged sound.

"Eager, aren’t you?" you murmur.

His throat bobs as he swallows. "Bit hard not to be, love," he admits, voice thick. "Sittin’ on me like this, teasin’ me—kinda cruel, don’t you think?"

You hum, pretending to think about it.

Then, just to be extra cruel, you shift again, rolling your hips ever so slightly against him, feeling the way he strains beneath you. The deep, guttural groan he lets out sends a shiver down your spine, pooling heat low in your stomach—but you don't let it show. Not yet.

His hands twitch again, rising instinctively, palms brushing over your thighs—only for you to catch them, pushing them back down onto the mattress.

"Ah ah," you tsk, shaking your head. "I don’t think you’ve earned that yet."

His eyes darken. His tongue darts out to wet his lips.

"Yeah?" he rasps, testing you. "And what do I need to do to earn it, angel?"

You smirk, letting your fingers trail up his chest again, featherlight.

"Oh, I don’t know." You lean down, lips hovering just over his, close enough that you can feel his breath against your mouth. "Begging might be a good start."

Harry exhales sharply, his brows furrowing just slightly, like he’s debating whether or not to fight this, to push back. But you know he won’t. Not really.

Because this is exactly what he wants.

You can feel it in the way his body tightens beneath you, in the way his breath comes faster, in the way his hands stay right where you left them.

Still. Waiting.

Obedient.

You grin against his jaw, pressing a soft, teasing kiss just below his ear.

"Good boy."

The noise he makes is sinful.

It’s not just a groan—it’s something deeper, something visceral, something wrecked. You feel it in the way his whole body reacts, the way he tilts his head ever so slightly, exposing more of his throat to you.

Oh.

That’s interesting.

You tuck that reaction away for later, storing it deep in the back of your mind as you continue your slow, torturous descent.

Kissing. Biting. Licking.

Dragging your lips over the ridge of his collarbone, over the firm planes of his chest, trailing heat in your wake.

When you shift again, pressing down exactly where he needs it most, his hips buck up automatically—only for you to lift up just in time, denying him.

A choked-off noise escapes his lips, something between a groan and a curse. His hands fist in the sheets, the muscles in his arms flexing as he fights the instinct to grab you.

"Need something, H?" you ask, voice as sweet as honey.

His head tips back, eyes squeezing shut for a brief second before he looks at you again.

"Don’t be cruel, angel," he grits out. His voice is rough now, thick with frustration, a deep rasp that shoots straight between your legs.

You pretend to consider it, tilting your head.

Then, with an innocent smile, you say, "You threw my book in the ocean, remember?"

His reaction is immediate—a groan, deep and frustrated, his head dropping back against the pillow.

"Fuck, love, I know," he groans, dragging a hand down his face. "I’ll buy you the whole goddamn series—just—fuck, please—"

You bite back a grin.

He’s close.

So close to breaking.

But not yet.

Not yet.

You can see it—can feel it in the way his whole body is wired tight beneath you, in the way his fingers dig into the sheets, in the way his chest rises and falls with every ragged breath. His lips are parted, swollen from how often he’s bitten down on them in frustration, his curls a wild mess against the pillow.

His eyes—God, his eyes—are pure desperation now, pupils blown wide, swallowing every trace of teasing mischief that had been there before.

You’ve reduced him to this.

The thought sends a thrill down your spine, makes your own breath come a little quicker, your skin prickling with heat.

But you’re not done.

Not until he’s completely wrecked.

Not until he breaks for you.

You shift again, rolling your hips ever so slightly, and the groan that rips from his throat is obscene. He’s trembling beneath you now, his fingers twitching like they physically ache to grab at you, to flip you over, to take control.

But he doesn’t.

He waits.

Obeys.

"You’re taking this so well," you murmur, trailing your fingers down his stomach, watching how his muscles tense beneath your touch. "Maybe I should reward you after all."

His breath hitches.

And then—finally—you sink onto him.

His reaction is immediate.

A sharp, choked-off curse tears from his lips, his hands flying to your hips like he physically can’t stop himself. His fingers dig into your skin, hard enough that you’re sure there will be marks tomorrow, but you don’t mind. You want the reminder.

His head tips back, exposing the long, elegant line of his throat, and you take advantage—leaning in, pressing your lips against his pulse point, feeling the frantic beat of his heart against your mouth.

"Fuck," he groans, voice hoarse. "Fuck—angel—"

You giggle at his reaction, at the way he’s coming apart so quickly.

"That good, huh?" you tease, pressing another kiss just below his ear.

His grip on your hips tightens. "You fuckin’ know it is," he pants.

But you don’t let him set the pace.

No—this is still your game.

Your punishment.

So even though you’re desperate too, aching for more, you keep it slow.

You rock against him, agonizingly deliberate, watching the way his jaw clenches, the way his brows pull together, the way his whole body is coiled tight with restraint.

"You’re so mean," he grits out, his breath coming in short, shallow pants. "So fuckin’ mean."

You laugh softly, dragging your nails up his chest. "Mean?" you echo, tilting your head. "I think I’m being generous, considering your crimes."

His hips jerk up instinctively, chasing more friction, but you deny him, lifting just enough to keep him wanting.

He nearly whimpers.

And when you clench around him—just once, just to make him feel it—his whole body shudders beneath you.

"Fuck—" he chokes out, his voice wrecked.

You smirk.

Now he’s the one breaking.

It’s cruel, really.

The way you keep just enough control.

The way you deny him just enough to make him ache, to keep him on that razor-thin edge between pleasure and madness.

You can feel it in every shudder that wracks his body beneath you, in the way his hands—normally so sure, so confident—are now trembling where they grip your thighs. You can see it in the way his face twists with pure, agonized need every time you slow down, in the way his lips part around half-formed pleas he can’t quite voice.

And then, of course, there’s the sounds he’s making.

The low, wrecked groans that scrape up from deep in his chest. The ragged, desperate panting as he fights to keep himself from snapping. The murmured curses, gasped into your skin like a prayer.

Your name—over and over again—a reverent, pleading litany on his lips.

It’s intoxicating.

It makes heat bloom low in your stomach, makes your own thighs shake just a little, makes your breath catch as your own pleasure coils tighter and tighter.

But you’re not done with him yet.

Not until he completely unravels.

So you pick up the pace.

You roll your hips faster, move against him with just enough force to make him lose that last thread of control.

And oh, God, does he fall apart.

His fingers dig into your skin, hard, needy. His grip tightens, almost bruising, as his body shudders beneath you, all restraint shattering at once.

"Fuck—"

The sound of his voice—wrecked, desperate, almost pained—sends a sharp jolt of pleasure straight through you.

You can feel the exact moment he breaks.

He surges up suddenly, gripping your waist and flipping you before you can even gasp.

Your back hits the mattress.

And then—before you can even catch your breath—he’s on you.

Over you.

Inside you.

And this time, he’s the one in control.

The first thrust is deep—so deep you arch up instinctively, gasping, clutching at his shoulders.

The second is just as devastating.

And the third—fuck.

He pins you down, his forearm bracing beside your head, his free hand gripping your thigh, hooking it around his waist to hold you open for him.

There’s nothing slow about it now.

Nothing teasing.

It’s needy, raw, consuming.

He fucks into you with purpose.

Like he’s staking a claim.

Like he’s making sure you never think about anything else ever again.

Like he’s rewriting your fucking soul.

And God, it’s working.

Your nails rake down his back, dragging hard enough to leave marks.

His jaw is clenched, his brows furrowed in pure focus, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Say it," he growls suddenly, his voice low, rough, demanding.

Your mind is spinning. "Say what?"

His fingers tighten on your thigh. "Say I’m better than your book."

A breathless, half-delirious laugh spills from your lips.

"You’re better than my book."

His lips crash against yours, hot, desperate.

"Say you forgive me."

"I forgive you—"

His next thrust knocks the breath from your lungs. "Oh, fuck, Harry—"

You’re so close.

And from the way his grip tightens, from the way his rhythm starts to falter, so is he.

His name rips from your throat, high and breathless, as he drives into you again, and again, and again.

It’s overwhelming—the heat of him, the weight of him, the sheer intensity in his gaze as he watches you fall apart beneath him.

And God, you are falling apart.

Your whole body is on fire, burning from the inside out, aching with every deep, deliberate thrust.

Harry can feel it—the way you’re unraveling, how close you are.

His hand slips between you, fingers brushing down your stomach, finding exactly where you need him most.

And then—fuck.

He presses down, moves his fingers in slow, firm circles, his pace never faltering, never relenting.

Your whole body shakes.

Your grip on him tightens—nails digging into his biceps, legs locking around his waist, pulling him deeper, keeping him exactly where you need him.

His rhythm is messy now, frantic, desperate, every movement a plea, a promise, a demand.

"Give it to me," he groans, his forehead pressed against yours. "C’mon, angel. Let me feel it."

It’s too much.

The heat, the pressure, the way he’s watching you—

Like you’re the only thing that exists. Like he’d burn the whole world down for you. Like you already own him.

And then you shatter.

It hits you like a tidal wave, a wildfire, an earthquake.

Your whole body tenses, pleasure crashing over you in heavy, shuddering waves, your back arching, your breath catching, your lips parting on a broken moan of his name.

And he follows.

His jaw clenches, his grip tightens, his body stiffens above you.

And then—a ragged, wrecked groan—

His face buries in your neck as he falls apart, spilling into you, gasping against your skin, his body shaking with the force of it.

For a long moment, neither of you move.

The only sounds in the room are harsh, uneven breaths, the pounding of your hearts, the distant crash of waves outside.

Then—slowly, like he’s afraid to lose the moment—Harry pulls back just enough to look at you.

His hair is a mess, damp and sticking to his forehead. His lips are red and swollen, parted on soft, uneven breaths.

But it’s his eyes that make your chest tighten.

Because for the first time tonight, they’re completely, devastatingly open.

And the way he’s looking at you—like you just rewrote his entire world—

It’s dangerous.

Because you know you’re looking at him the same way.

Harry doesn’t let you go.

Even now, with both of you sticky, sweaty, and utterly spent, his arms stay wrapped around you—one draped lazily across your waist, the other tracing slow, absentminded patterns along your back.

His chest rises and falls against yours, his breaths still a little uneven, his face buried in the crook of your neck like he never wants to move again.

For a moment, neither of you say anything.

You just exist there, tangled up together, skin pressed to skin, hearts still beating in sync.

His lips brush against your shoulder, soft and lazy and unbearably sweet.

Another.

Then another.

"So… d’you really forgive me?"

You smirk, eyes still closed. "Mm. Maybe."

His mouth stills against your skin.

A pause.

"Maybe?" His head lifts, green eyes narrowing in playful outrage.

You crack an eye open, smirking at his expression.

"Buy me the whole series and book us a few extra days here, and I might."

His lips twitch.

Then he grins, wide and victorious.

"Done." He nuzzles closer, arms tightening around you. "But only if you read them to me. Naked."

You laugh, soft and sleepy and so incredibly full.

Then, just because you can, you kiss him.

Slow, sweet, lingering.

"Deal."

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Thank you so much for reading, you’re a total angel! Don’t forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed! It means everything to me! 💖

taglist: @oscahpastry @mema10 @angelbabyyy99 @iloveharrystyles04 @cinemharry @drwho06 @donutsandpalmtrees @panini @mads3502 @imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa @one-sweet-gubler @rizosrizos26 @ciriceimpera @everyscarisahealingplace @hello-heyhi @sexymfharriet @lizsogolden @hannah9921 @chicabonitasblog @huhidontknowstuff @berrywoods1245 @jennovaaa @angeldavis777 @prettygurl-2009 @almostcontentcreator @run-for-the-hills @maudie-duan @dipmeinhoneyh @harrrrystylesslut @georgiarose94 @stylestarkey @watarmelon212 @hopefullimaginer123, @fangirl509east @bethiegurl19 @adoredeanna @secretisme4 @harry2121 @hopefullimaginer123 @fangirl509east @uncassettodiricordi @2601-london @zbaby @harryscherries28 @michellekstyles @umadirectioner @styleswithaseaview @sunflower-tia @tulips4harry @gmikaelson @howling-wolf97 @outofthisworl-d @namoreno @blckburd @sassamanda77 @stylesftcher @definegirlfriendsx