#he's got that dunkirk harry's munch

[arabellas]

Steve + food through the seasons

[ella-insideout]

I wasn’t told you’d be this cold (Part VII)

A/N: I’m sorry it took me a little longer to get this out, but finally it’s here!!! I know this may read like a filler chapter, but I really just wanted to have some calm before the storm (trust me on that). This chapter is very smutty—sorry not sorry. Usual disclaimer: this is a very sad and very real story based off a relationship I had in uni.I also slipped in a small Dunkirk reference because I just can’t help myself since it’s the year anniversary. As always, feedback is encouraged and very much appreciated. ENJOY xxx

World count: 4.4k

Helena kept eyeing the small tattoo that now permanently graced the inside of her wrist. She flipped her wrist around, staring back and forth the blank skin on one side and the ink resting on the other. Having it for only a week, it had completely scabbed over and the tenderness subsided. A few people, seeing the tattoo in passing, have asked if Helena scribbled on herself, making her question the tattoo’s design. Perhaps a boy’s initial encased in a heart is cliched and seems like something a teenage girl would do for a schoolboy crush, but she loved it. She didn’t get the tattoo for anyone else but herself (and Harry)—she doesn’t need anyone else’s approval, thank you very much.

Since getting the tattoo, Harry’s been much more affectionate, Helena notices. Not that he hasn’t been before, but it’s much more obvious now. When holding hands, he always reaches out for Helena’s tattooed side; when cuddling, he’ll rub his thumb over the raised bit on skin on her wrist; he’s even kissed over the tattoo like he’d done when she first got it. Helena furrows her brows together when she realises that she’s never actually pecked the rose tattoo Harry got for her, but shakes her head and smiles, thinking about awkwardly kissing the outer edge of his elbow. She’s made up for it more than enough times with plenty of kisses—on his lips and other regions.

Harry’s sock-clad foot nudging her arm brings Helena out of her head. They’re laying opposite each other on Helena’s sofa, each with a book perched on their chest. With half-term essays coming up, their dates have become more like study sessions. Helena’s currently working through a book on the allied forces of World War II while Harry’s reading through an Arundhati Roy novel for his literature course.

“Oi,” his foot hits her arm once more, “where’d yeh go?”

“Hmm?” Helena places her book down on her chest to look at Harry. His messy hair is pushed up against the cushion behind his head and he’s closed his book.

“Yeh didn’t turn a page for some time… Lost in thought?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Helena says as she moves her body, crossing her legs and sitting up, “m’kind of tired of reading. Seems like it’s all we’ve done today.”

“It is all we’ve done today.” Harry chides and straightens himself up.

Helena shrugs and smiles as she grabs Harry’s book from his hands and places it on top of hers. Reaching out to the small coffee table, she puts both books down and scoots closer to Harry.

“I’ve missed you.” She leans closer, pecking lightly against his lips.

“Been right here wi’yeh all day.” He replies, his twinkling green eyes staring into hers.

“I miss you.” Helena says again, pulling Harry’s face against hers. She interlocks their lips and kisses him deeply. Her tongue runs along his bottom lip (a few times, because Harry’s a tease) and she pokes her tongue around the inside of his mouth. She pulls away and begins kissing along his jaw up to his ear and back down the side of his neck. Harry’s hands are roaming over her upper half, sliding up under her thick jumper. They moan simultaneously when Harry discovers Helena’s forgone wearing a bra as he skims his thumb over a nipple.

“Really missed me, huh?” Harry teases when Helena stops to take off her jumper. She starts to go in for another kiss but instead angles her head down, placing wet kisses over Harry’s clothed torso. She reaches behind Harry for a moment and grabs the cushion he’d been previously laying on, tossing it on the floor. Harry goes to lay back, assuming she’d just made room for them, but Helena tugs his joggers toward the edge of the couch as she settles her knees on the pillow.

“Off.” Helena whispers as she tugs at his joggers once more, so Harry quickly lifts his bum and slides both his boxers and bottoms off in one go. He instinctually opens his legs and Helena wastes no time in grabbing his half-hard cock in her hands. She pumps him a few times before fully taking him into her mouth. Harry throws his head back and thrusts up into her mouth, triggering Helena’s gag reflex.

“Fuck!” Harry slips out when he feels her throat constricting against him. Though it was slightly uncomfortable, Helena continues along with bobbing her head up and down, rubbing her tongue against the vein on the underside of his cock. Her free hands begin gently rolling Harry’s balls and she soon removes her mouth from him, travelling down to take one into her mouth.

“Sh—shit.” Harry moans loudly as Helena moves back up and begins sucking on his bright red tip. “Babe, babe,” he whispers while tugging on Helena’s hair, signaling her to stop, “wanna try something. Stand up.”

With a confused look, Helena gets off her knees. Once she’s standing, Harry tugs her leggings and knickers down her legs and motions her to step out of them. He lays down against the sofa and when Helena goes to sit over him, Harry shakes his head.

“No, no, no,” he grabs at her hips and turns her to face the other way, “wanna sixty-nine yeh. Always wanted to try it.”

“What?” Helena spins her head around, slightly in shock at what he’s just suggested.

“Y’know, sixty-nine. Where the guy and girl give each other oral at th’same time. I wanna try it.”

“O-okay.” She lets out a shaky breath, still not moving.

“Do you want to do it?” Harry raises his eyebrows at her.

“Just… It’s really intimate. Everything in your face and all.”

“Nothin’ I haven’t seen before, love.” Harry chuckles with a slight smirk on his lips. The light-hearted joke makes Helena laugh too and she climbs on top of him, her lower half aligned with his at first. Harry wraps his hands around her hips and guides her as she crawls up to reach his cock.

When she’s level with it, she instantly puts her mouth back on his tip, picking up right where she left off. After a few moments, she feels Harry’s fingers slide up her pussy and pull her lips apart. He tilts his head upward and places his tongue fully against her, making her head fly back. He begins licking harshly against her folds while his thumb rubs circles against her clit. Despite the intense pleasure she’s feeling, Helena returns her mouth to Harry’s cock and bobs up and down. They’re both moaning into each other’s bodies when Harry’s movements suddenly stop.

“Fuck, m’gonna cum.” he warns, one hand harshly grabbing Helena’s ass. Helena moves her mouth and opens widely, pressing her tongue against his head. She pumps up and down a few times before Harry groans out and cums onto her tongue. She kisses against his tip a few times and lets it go as it softens.

Without warning, Harry places his mouth back on her cunt. “Oh!” She moans out in surprise as Harry places his hands onto her hips. He pulls her hips closer to his face until Helena has no choice but to sit up and balance herself over him. Harry’s tongue licks against her clit as his hands move up the front of her body and rest just below her tits. Helena leans down a bit so Harry’s able to swirl his fingers against her nipples for a bit. Soon enough, Helena’s a whining, moaning mess as she comes onto Harry’s tongue. She nearly collapses on top of Harry and she’s thankful that he lifted her legs over to one side and flipped her round, because she’s not sure she has the physical strength to do it herself.

“Shit,” Helena pants out as her head rests against Harry’s chest, “never thought I’d like that.”

“Never say never, H.” Harry smiles down at her, kissing the top of her forehead. His free hand reaches down to grab her wrist, his index finger slightly grazing over the tattoo before he pulls it up to his mouth and places a gentle kiss there, too.

—

It’s a typical Tuesday morning for Helena. Despite not having any lectures today, she decided to get up early and have breakfast alone. From spending all of her free time with Harry to sharing a small two-bed flat with Bella, Helena hardly had any alone time. And as an only child, she needed moments just to herself.

She brought her World War II book to the cafe to skim while sipping her tea and munching on her toast. But as she flips through the pages, reading about the Dunkirk evacuation, she can’t help but lose focus. Placing her pen down—Helena’s the type to annotate in the margins—she pulls out her phone and scrolls through her news feeds. When that begins to bore her, she opens up her student email account—not particularly expecting anything has come through. However her heart starts beating exponentially fast when she reads the subject line of the first unread email: Bienvenido! Spain Study Abroad - Spring Term.

Helena had sent her application in over a month ago and she figured, not hearing back for so long, she hadn’t been accepted. The programme was highly competitive—along with taking courses, students were expected to complete an internship found through the university. Helena spent weeks perfecting her CV (and even attended a workshop hosted by the career centre) but felt that her lack of experience would be held against her. Apparently not. She opens the email and reads over it quickly, a huge smile on her face.

Congratulations, Helena! We’re very pleased to inform you that you have been selected to join the Spain Study & Intern Abroad programme for the upcoming Spring term. Under the Media & Communications sector, you’ll take courses that count toward your final degree and you’ll undertake an internship in a field related to your course halfway through the programme. See more details below regarding course dates, housing allocation, and internship placements. We look forward to welcoming you in January!

Helena, in complete and utter shock, decides she’ll look at the rest of the information later. And now, sitting in a cafe alone and smiling to herself, she wishes she’d told someone about her application. Though she mentioned it to Bella at the very start of term, she never said she’d sent everything in. After frantically paying for her meal (did she get change? She’s not even sure) Helena rushed home to tell Bella and celebrate.

“Bels!” Helena calls out as she walks through the door, placing her bag down on the table next to it. “Are you home?” Met with silence, Helena checks to see if Bella’s still sleeping but finds her door slightly cracked open. Pushing it, Helena finds Bella’s bed neatly made and infers she either went to the library (as she’s done the past few days in a row) or to a lecture. Walking back into the living room, Helena plops down onto the sofa and grabs her phone, sending a quick text to Harry.

Hiii. You free?

Knowing Harry, she doesn’t expect a reply for a few hours. The instant buzz of her phone all but surprises her.

Yes, want to come over?

Niall’s out for the day. X

Be there asap xxx

Helena grabbed her keys and purse, practically racing out of her flat to begin her 15-minute walk over to Harry’s place. As Harry and Niall were flat-hunting on a budget, they had to look a little further out from campus. But they lived in a nice flat on a quaint street just a few blocks away from Greenwich Park, which Helena appreciated since the park was her favourite spot in Greenwich.

After walking up the steps to Harry’s front door, Helena didn’t even have to ring the bell before Harry swung it open and stepped aside to let her in. Closing the door behind her, Harry places a hand on the small of her back and she makes her way through the foyer and places her stuff down on one of their sofas. Harry leans in and gives her a small kiss on the lips while she unbuttons her coat and hangs on the rack in the corner.

“You hungry?” Harry asks as he goes into the kitchen. “I’m makin’ some chicken pasta for lunch.”

“S’a bit early for lunch, isn’t it?” Helena replies as she follows him, squinting at the clock on their wall that read 11:32am.

“Well I got up too late for breakfast, so I guess it’s jus’ an early lunch.” He stirs the pasta around in the pan. Helena stands next to him, watching him silently as she purses her lips and thinks of how she can break the news to Harry.

“Hey, H,” she starts while Harry begins pouring his pasta into a large bowl, “I’ve got something I want to tell you.”

“Oh?” He questions while placing his cooking materials into the sink to wash later. They walk over to the small dining table and Harry begins eating his lunch, Helena sitting opposite him. “What’s goin’ on then?”

“Well,” Helena begins smiling widely, “a while ago, I applied to spend a term abroad in Spain. I didn’t really think I’d get in because it’s so competitive but… I did it. I got in!” Her smile grows wider, if that’s even possible. Her eyes are so bright and she’s so excited but when Helena looks to Harry, she finds that his expression doesn’t mirror hers, even in the slightest. His eyes are dull and cast down, staring at his almost empty plate of food.

“When will yeh be leaving then?” Harry asks, still avoiding eye contact.

“In January…” Helena trails off. “It’s a really exciting opportunity! I get to take some interesting courses and I’ll be doing an internship during the second half. I’ve always wanted to go to Spain, so I can’t wait.”

“Good for you.” Harry says, standing up and placing his empty plate into the sink, paying no attention to the rest of the dirty dishes. He ignores Helena as he passes by her and walks down the hall into his bedroom, slamming the door shut. Dumbfounded, Helena stays frozen in her seat for a few beats. When she finds movement, she scoots out of her chair and quickly walks over to Harry’s room, bursting through the door.

“What the hell?!” She screeches as she enters his bedroom. Harry’s sat at the edge of his bed, scrolling mindlessly through this phone. He looks up at Helena but doesn’t say anything, taking his attention back to his phone. “What the fuck is your problem?” She tries again, still not getting Harry to talk. Adrenaline pumping, she snatches the phone out of his hands (with Harry letting out a loud ‘Hey!’ in protest) and throws in back into his pillows.

“You have no right to grab shit from me.” Harry stands up, pressing his chest against Helena’s.

“You have no right to get mad over nothing!” She quips back. “You’re the first person I told about getting into this programme! And I was so excited when I found out this morning, all I wanted to do was share that with you! But you had to go and ruin it!”

“Sorry I can’t jump for joy with you,” Harry shouts back as he turns away from her, “but m’glad to see that you’re so happy about leaving me!”

“M’not leaving you,” Helena lets out an exasperated breath, “I’m going to study in a different country. For four months. You’ll survive.”

“Just think it’s funny, s’all,” Harry laughs to himself, turning around to face her again, “yeh got all mad at me when I left for the summer. And you’re practically doing the same thing to me now, but I’ve got to be happy for you.”

“Don’t fucking bring that up,” she wags a finger at him, “you left to go follow some floozy around! And you didn’t even tell me! This is a completely different situation—I’m going to study. I’m going to work. Not fuck around with some bloke.”

“No, no, f’course not.” Harry chides. “Did enough of that while I was gone.”

“Ugh!” Helena throws her arms up in the arm. “You just can’t let things go.”

“Neither can you.”

Both their chests are heaving from the intensity of their yelling. Helena looks over to Harry and when they make eye contact, he places both hands behind her head and pulls her in for a kiss. He shoves his tongue down her throat as she moans and whimpers into his mouth, trailing her hands up his back and bunching the soft cotton of his shirt into her hands. They break apart from their kiss and Harry tugs his shirt off, Helena doing the same. He pushes her shoulders down and she falls back against the mattress. Harry’s body covers hers completely and he grinds their lower halves together as he sucks one of Helena’s nipples. She goes to pull on his hair but he pushes her hand away.

“Don’t touch me.” he growls out lowly. The harsh tone of his voice ensures that Helena won’t be trying it again. Harry unbuttons Helena’s jeans and slides them off her legs, too lazy to take her knickers off with them. He tugs his joggers down just enough to let his cock out, pumping himself in his hand a few times before pulling the thin fabric aside and pushes into Helena.

“Har—fuck—Harry…” Helena moans out as Harry pounds into her. Though they’ve been rough with each other in the past, she knows this is different. He’s still not over their fight. In retaliation Helena wraps her arms around Harry and begins scratching her long nails down his back, making sure to leave a few marks.

“Fuck, baby.” He hisses and throws his head back, almost enjoying the pain of Helena’s nails breaking his skin. Harry moves one hand from the pillow and slides it down her body, bringing her leg up over his shoulder. He begins thrusting harder and harder into her core and Helena’s eyes roll back from the feeling. Harry goes to rub against her clit and in moments, she’s coming onto his cock. The squeezing of her walls and tension from the fight overtakes Harry’s body as his orgasm washes over him. He pulls out of her cunt and cums onto her stomach. Helena grabs Harry’s face and brings him in for a quick kiss but he quickly stands up, grabbing a tissue off his nightstand.

“Clean yourself up.” He says in the same harsh tone as before, walking into his ensuite bathroom and locking the door.

—

Helena hasn’t spoken to Harry in four days now. After he left her laying naked in his bed, cum all over her stomach, she quickly got dressed and left his flat. She didn’t even leave a note or send a text to let him know—Harry didn’t deserve that, Helena rationalised. He was exceedingly rude and he had absolutely no right to be. Luckily, when she arrived home Bella was there and the two celebrated in the way Helena hoped she would’ve done with Harry. They shared a bottle of wine and watched rom-coms with Spanish subtitles on (Helena had to start practising, right?).

Having nothing better to do on a gloomy November afternoon, Helena was in her bed watching Netflix on her laptop. Though she had school work to get through, she decided that having one lazy Saturday wouldn’t be too bad. Her phone buzzing on her nightstand took Helena’s attention off the show she was watching. A scowl set across her lips once she saw who the text was from.

Heyyyy

Helena rolled her eyes at Harry’s casual starter. He greeted her as if they hadn’t been in a fight and ignored each other for days. She quickly tapped out a reply.

Hi there.

You busy tonight?

Why?

Do you want to come over?

For what?

Haven’t seen you in a few days, I really miss you. X

Ok.

I’d really like to cook you dinner and make up for being a right dick

Maybe we could kiss and make up too… X

Ok. I’ll come for dinner.

Come over round 7?

Ok.

Maybe Helena was being a bit short with Harry, but to be fair, he deserves it. To text her so randomly and act as if nothing happened between them worried her. Up until now, all of their fights ended in one apologising to the other—there was no need for grandiose gestures to indicate the fight was over (though getting a tattoo could fall into that category). However this last fight had been intense and Harry really hurt Helena’s feelings, so maybe a well-cooked meal could make up for his poor behaviour. She’s certainly willing to give him a chance.

Having showered and gotten ready, Helena left her flat at 6.45pm on the dot to arrive at Harry’s right on time. She wasn’t sure if Harry would be dressing nicely—since they were just going to eat at his flat—so Helena opted to wear a knit dress with tights, boots, and a long coat to keep her warm on her walk. As Helena approached the building, she could see Harry’s silhouette staring out the window. When he spotted her, he went outside and greeted her at the doorstep.

“Hi.” He said quietly, his breath showing in the chilly nighttime air.

“Hey.” Helena replied, unsure of what to say.

“Before we go in, I just wanted to say m’really sorry.” Harry reaches out for Helena’s hand, interlacing their fingers. “I was a total arse to yeh and yeh didn’t deserve it. So I’m sorry for being a dick. M’actually really proud of yeh, y’know?” Helena’s head perks up and she saw Harry staring down at her, his eyes bright and full of love.

“You are?” She squeaks out nervously. Harry nods his head and captures her lips in a deep kiss, proving to her how much he cares.

“Now, let’s eat!” Harry turns around, still holding Helena’s hand in his own. He leads her into his flat and she’s amazed with what he’s done. He decorated the wall above the dining table with a small collection of Spanish flags and the table’s full of traditionally Spanish foods.

“To get yeh in the mood for Spain,” Harry explains, “I decided to make you a bit o’everything. We’ve got some paella, some tapas, and I made churros.”

“You did all of this for me?” Helena asks incredulously.

“Yes,” Harry kisses the top of her head, “because I need y’to know how much I care for yeh, and how excited I am for yeh. Four months’ll fly by, yeah? And I can always visit.” Helena smiled to herself, thinking of all she had ahead of her. She had the love of her life by her side and the opportunity of a lifetime on the horizon. And here was Harry, supporting her every step of the way.

“Thank you, H, really.” Helena kisses his cheek as they both settle down at the table, beginning to eat their Spanish-style meal. When they finished their dinner, Harry grabbed a bottle of wine and the basket of churros, placing them on the coffee table in front of his sofa. Helena settled down as Harry poured her glass, handing it over as he sat beside her.

“So when does the programme start?” He asks while taking a sip of wine.

“Mid-January, like a week after our term usually begins.” She says in between bites of a churro.

“And do yeh know yet what your internship will be?”

“Not yet. They give us a choice of our top three placements and decide for us.”

“What’re yeh choosing, then?”

“I’m putting a PR firm for my first choice, and two different newspapers for my second and third,” she shrugs, “since I don’t really know what I want to do, I’ll be happy with whatever I get.”

“I’ll be happy for you, too. Whatever you get, love.” Harry grins at her, clinking their glasses together. They continue chatting mindlessly as they finish off both the churros and bottle of wine. Standing up off the couch, they clumsily make their way to Harry’s bedroom.

After shutting the door behind himself, Harry leans down and grabs the hem of Helena’s dress, inching it up her body until it’s completely off. She shimmies out of her stockings while Harry removes his jumper and jeans. Harry leans back against his headboard and Helena crawls onto his lap, feeling his pulsing cock against her naked cunt. Harry moves his hand between them and guides himself into Helena; they both groan as she sinks down completely. She begins rocking back and forth slowly, circling her hips and rubbing her clit against the flesh above his prick. Harry’s hands are on her waist, pushing her further down onto him. Without warning, Harry attempts to flip the two over, accidentally knocking his head against Helena’s.

“Oi!” She laughs, “that hurt!”

“M’sorry, H.” Harry chuckles along with her, lining himself up against her entrance and entering her once more. He juts his hips against hers and leans down to take a nipple into his mouth. His tongue brushes against it but Helena tugs on his hair, pulling his face up to hers. She kisses his lip and bites on his lower one, moaning into his mouth.

“H… I’m gonna—fuck—gonna cum.” She whispers, tossing her head back against the pillow. Harry picks up his speed and places two fingers on her clit, rubbing fast circles to get her to her high. Her hands bury further into his hair and yank harshly as she comes around him. A few seconds later Harry’s orgasm rushes through his body and he releases his load into Helena, not having enough time to pull out. Harry all but collapses on top of her, still inside her.

“Yeh took your pill?” He says into her neck, kissing the sweaty skin against his lips.

“Mhm,” Helena muses, still coming down from her orgasm, “s’okay.” Harry then shifts off to the side and brings Helena into his chest, wrapping his arms around her body. “Thank you for tonight,” she speaks up, “I really appreciate it.”

“Anything for m’girl.” Harry replies, letting out a small yawn.

“Best boyfriend ever.” Helena hums as she buries her head deeper into his chest, closing her eyes.

“M’not your boyfriend.” Harry mumbles. Helena’s eyes jolt open and she looks up at Harry, seeing his eyes are shut. The light snores indicate he’d already fallen asleep, but Helena lay wide awake questioning how things could go from being so right to so wrong in such a short amount of time.

[secret-rendezvous1d]

I know you said neither h or the missus used the safe word ever but can you imagine if H did. All the stories about that it’s always the missus but what if harry gets too overwhelmed and uses it and the missus feels bad

Shit. Okay…

His cock was pulsing.

He could feel the overwhelming heat of his long and lengthy muscle that sprung from between his fuzz-dusted thighs and he can feel the deep-blue and protruding veins pumping blood vigorously through his system that shot his adrenaline through the roof and he can feel his slit pulsating and oozing clear pre-cum that tickled down his girth, slicked him up, and painted his skin a transparent colour that glistened under the ominous glow of the bedroom - much like how his sweat was making his body look. His tip was a bright red colour, almost that resembled how his lips looked after he had drank red-wine or munched on a whole tub of strawberries after dinner, looking completely overworked, beginning to feel much more sensitive then it had ever done before. The slightest blow of cool air would send him overboard.

Having been denied orgasm after orgasm, he’s sure that he wouldn’t last much longer under the intense touch of his fiancé. Wriggling and writhing upon the mattress, the sheets rustling underneath his body and attaching themselves to his sticky skin, his toes curling and pushing into the soft plush feel of the duvet that had been pushed to the end of the bed, his thighs begging to close but struggling to do so, with leather restraints locked tight around his naked ankles, connected to a stable pole that stopped his legs from closing, from giving in to the reflexes he wanted to encourage, and, evidently, cutting off access to his cock. 

In the triangle formed between his open legs, the spreader bar, and the point at where his thighs met up by his crotch, knelt YN, clad in black lace lingerie with a smirk on her lips. Her palm coated with a mixture of his spit, her saliva, and his pre-ejaculate, fondling his tense and tingling balls as he bite his lip and choked on numerous moans that built up. 

“You’ve done really good. What number is this one? Think it’s eight. Am I right?”

She cocks an eyebrow up at him as he whimpers and nods his head slowly, chewing roughly on his bottom lip and closing in on drawing blood from the delicate flesh.

“Denied you eight orgasms. One for each time you sassed me back today. Do you think we could make it an even ten, hm? Can you last that long for me?”

It’s spoken so seductively, so deep and lowly, dominantly, with a look in her eye that was enough to make him spurt eight orgasms up his chest, and his stomach swirled because she’s never been this… intense with him. She’s never been so cruel. 

He knows he was a pest throughout the day; he’d been stressed with the lead-up to his album being released and he’d been going crazy with Dunkirk promotion and his day was just a little rough on him - he’d woken up feeling sick, Jeffrey had told him something that annoyed him, Grimmy was getting on his nerves and his trainer had cancelled their gym time, that afternoon, because he had a personal matter to tend to - and she had, unfortunately, taken the brunt of his frustration.

It’s his whimper, high and crackled, that eggs her to keep on going. Taking her fingers away from his balls, dragging her forefinger up between his creases and up towards his tip before wrapping all five of her digits his girth, feeling it twitch visibly, seeing his stomach muscles contract beneath the butterfly that was permanently etched onto his sweaty skin, his hands fisting at the air as his nails dug into his palms.

It’s when she nudges his tip with the pad of her thumb, applying pressure against the sensitive head, that has him crying out the one word that would make her stop with her movements. That would diminish her dominant façade with the snap of a finger. 

“Berry! Fuck, stop it,” he begs, her jerking acting coming to a stop as a tear slips down his skin, cascading and sliding down towards his ear and leaving a path in its wake, “please, stop. Berry. Berry, please.”

Her eyes widen when the heels of his hands dig into his damp eyes. Rubbing them softly before he pulled them away, revealing soft orbs that looked broken and tired and worn out and looked like they ached behind his eyelids. And it’s not long before strings of broken sobs escape his lips.

“Hey, no. Hey, don’t cry. Please, don’t cry,” she coos, pushing up on her knees and levering herself forward, leaning her weight on an arm that was placed beside his head as her other hand wiped away his heavy teardrops, “I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry. I went too far, didn’t I? I did. You don’t have to tell me I didn’t.  Eight denials is a lot. I can barely make it through two,” she litters kisses up his cheek and tastes the salty tears that clung to his skin and left behind wet streaks, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, baby. I am.”

His arms snake around her as he hugs her tightly to his chest, his sobs muffled by her shoulder, as she nestles her arms behind his neck and hugs him as softly as she can.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you. Everything’s okay, I promise,” she whispers lightly into his ear, “I think I got too in over my head and-”

“I liked it. ‘specially the bar. Adds a touch to this whole thing. Just, uh, it was too much to ease me into the whole thing. Never done it before, remember,” he mumbles after a pause, his fingers tickling across the naked expanse of the small of her back, “hav’ta be easy on me with all this.”

“I know,” she pulls away from him and nudges her nose against his, brushing from side to side as he blinked slowly, remnants of his overwhelming emotions dribbling away from the corner of his eyes, “maybe we’ll leave the whole dominating persona to you, yeah? You do it so much better than me, anyway. I just make you cry.”

He snorts wetly and rolls his eyes.

“Let me unlock you and then we can have a nice bath, yeah? Nice and warm. Might even let you pick the bath bomb that we use, how does that sound?”

He nods and smiles against her lips when he feels her press a gentle kiss to his.

“I love you,” he whispers, “love you so much. You’re wonderful. Know I cried but you do give me the best orgasms, y’know that, don’t you? Make me feel incredible.” xx

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

My Biggest Regret

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Summary: Christmas fic where Harry left you when you told him you were pregnant and you run into him at a party 

A/N: this took forever and I’m sorry! But I would really love to make this into a series! If anyone has any requests to do with this AU please send me an ask!

italics = flashback

He wasn’t meant to be here.

Niall had assured you a thousand times he would not be in attendance at his annual Christmas party. You rarely ever attended parties that were hosted by your mutual friends out of fear that you would run into him. Not that you really had time for parties anymore. Being a single mum really was a full-time job.

But Niall had also reassured you this year’s Christmas party would be more of a family-friendly affair rather than the alcohol-heavy house parties he used to host in the holiday season. So that morning you had dressed your little one-year-old son in the elf costume you had been dying to make him wear all December. Niall had insisted that everyone had to be Christmas themed in the way you dressed, so you decided to go the extra mile and get a Mrs Claus dress especially.

At least Niall hadn’t been lying about the family-friendly part.

You had been absolutely enjoying yourself. You had been able to catch up with some people who you hadn’t seen in a long time and introduce them to Alex. You had barely even held him for the past hour you had been there because everyone was so eager to have their turn holding him. You were really beginning to regret hiding Alex away from this group of people, just because they were friends with his dad. After all, they were your friends too.

That is until he walked in.

Within seconds his eyes had fallen upon you, as you stood completely unaware of his entrance.

For a moment, no one noticed anything was awry. Everything continued as it had, the Christmas cheer remained.

However, Harry was lost in a haze. All he could see was you and Alex. All he could hear was your laughter and how it was mixing with Alex’s little giggles. It was the sweetest sound he thought he had ever heard. Though he tried he just couldn’t take his eyes away from your baby’s happy little face.

“Harry,” his mother’s unsure voice broke him out of his reverie. Anne and Gemma had only just walked in, having driven separately from Harry.

Your head snapped in his direction at the all too familiar name, your laugh coming to a complete halt.

For a moment, you both stood shocked. You were shocked that he was there but also shocked that his mother and sister looked so confused. Harry remained standing where he was, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to form words.

His expression was all too familiar. It was the exact mask of shock he had worn the day you had told him you were pregnant.

Harry sat there, at a loss for words.

“Please say something, H. I know this isn’t good timing but-”

“You’re right, this is terrible timing,” he said, standing up from his seat and beginning to pace around your living room.

The two of you had been celebrating your two year anniversary when you moved into this apartment together. It had been an absolute dream come true for you. And now, just three weeks later, you felt like you were in a nightmare.

“We can still make it work!” you said with certainty. You knew it would be difficult but you were sure everything would work out.

Harry, however, was not so sure.

“This will only work if I give up everything I’ve been working for! I have an album to finish, and then I’ll have to promote it, and then I’ll have the press tour for Dunkirk, and then I’ll have my tour. I can’t give all that up for a child I didn’t ask for!” He tugged at his hair as he yelled.

You felt as though he had slapped you in the face. You had expected him to be freaked out, but you had thought he would still be supportive.

“Harry,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes.

“I’m sorry but if you decide to keep that baby, I can’t be involved.”

Your expression turned cold as you recalled the memory. He did not deserve to see how you missed him. He was not allowed to see the pain he had caused you.  

You pulled Alex closer to you instinctively, who was still wearing a smile on his face, blissfully unaware of the mood change in the room.

“You said you wouldn’t be coming,” Niall broke the silence that had befallen the room. Were this any other situation you would take pity on the poor boy, who clearly felt ridiculously guilty.

“It- It was last minute. I didn’t realise… didn’t realise it would be a problem,” Harry stammered.

Anne slowly took some steps towards you and you had to consciously stop yourself from taking steps back. She was clearly gobsmacked, unable to tear her eyes away from little Alex.

“Is he yours?” she asked quietly, reaching out to stroke his tiny face.

“Yes,” you whispered, your eyes softening as you talked with Anne. You had always been close with Harry’s mother and you couldn’t bring yourself to be cold with her. After all, it was her son who had left you, not her.

Anne looked between Alex and Harry several times before speaking again.

“He has your eyes,” she spoke to Harry.

For it was true, Alex really did have his green eyes. It was what everyone at the party had wanted to say when you had introduced them to Alex but no one dared to even mention his father. Everyone suspected, but no one really knew if Harry was the father.

As soon as you had started showing during your pregnancy, you went underground. You didn’t post on social media and you stayed in a small town in England, away from paparazzi and away from recognition as Harry’s ex-girlfriend. You had only told close friends and family what was happening, like Niall. You remained in that town for the first six months of Alex’s life, only returning to London when you were sure that no one from the press would bother you or your son.

It was not that you had been ashamed of having Alex, it was that you didn’t want him to be a part of some ridiculous scandal. You didn’t want his life and upbringing scrutinized. And despite Harry having abandoned you when you needed him most, you didn’t want him to be shunned for it by thousands of people.

“I-” you tried to think of something to say. “I can’t, I’m sorry.”

You rushed towards the exit. You were just about to brush past Harry when you stopped in your tracks. “Actually you know what?” You looked him straight in the eyes, your cold expression returned. “I’m not sorry. For anything.”

With that you walked straight out, leaving the entire room in a stunned silence.

You took a shuddered breath as you sat in the driver’s seat of your car, having strapped Alex into his car seat. Tears sprung to your eyes but you wiped them away furiously, refusing to let them fall. You had cried too many tears over Harry, you refused to spill anymore.

You were just about to drive away when Alex began to cry behind you. You had been so caught up in what was happening you had barely noticed he had been getting antsy. With a sigh, you got back out of the car and went to comfort Alex.

“Hey sweetie, don’t cry,” you cooed as you unstrapped him from his car seat and took him in your arms so you could rock him. “You’re just hungry aren’t you?”

With your free hand, you reached into your on-the-go baby bag for the snap lock bag of blueberries you had brought for him to snack on. All you wanted to do was go home but you knew you had to feed him now. Just as Alex began munching down on a blueberry, you heard footsteps on the pavement behind you.

“Y/N.”

You closed your eyes, wishing today would just be over. You turned on your heel to face him.

“What the hell do you want?”

“I just- I wanted to meet him properly,” he said as he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, a gesture you knew to be a nervous habit.

“You made your choice, Harry,” you said as you gave Alex another blueberry. No matter how much you wished you could turn back time and have Harry be a part of Alex’s life, you couldn’t. He had abandoned you and your child, he didn’t deserve your sympathy.

“Yeah, I did. But I just need you to know that I regret it. I know this probably doesn’t mean anything to you, but it’s my biggest regret.” You could hear the shame he felt in his voice, but he refused to hang his head. He held your gaze and didn’t drop it, trying to convey to you the truth in what he said.

“Well sorry but your regret doesn’t do anything for me. It doesn’t reverse the last two years. It doesn’t change the fact that you left me alone, scared and pregnant. It doesn’t change the fact that you abandoned your child,” you spat.

“Listen I want to be a part of his life. I know I don’t deserve it, but I’ll do anything. I’ll be wherever you need, whenever you need and do whatever you need. I promise,” he took a step towards you, desperation seeping through his every pore.

“Yeah, until another tour comes up. Or another album. Or movie.” Alex had finally settled a bit so you opened the car door and placed him back in his car seat. You turned back to Harry as you spoke. “Listen H, I want to believe you. I really do. Obviously, I want my son to have a father. But all you’re going to do is disappoint him in the long run. And me.”

You turned back around to walk to your driver seat but Harry quickly grabbed your wrist. His gentle touch was like a jolt to your system, a reminder of everything you had been missing.

“I’m not the same man I was two years ago,” he spoke quietly, not needing to project his voice due to your distractingly close proximity. “I’m not going to bail. I’m ready to give up everything to be a father. I will prove it to you, just give me a chance.”

His eyes searched yours for a moment, the uncertainty clear in your expression. You knew you had to put your personal feelings aside and do whatever was best for Alex. The difficulty was trying to figure out whether or not Harry would stick to his word.

But there was no mistaking the fear etched on his face. You knew Harry, and you knew when he was speaking the truth. Harry may have left you when you most needed him, but he had always stuck to his word.

“Fine. Christmas Eve dinner at my apartment,” you spoke as you got into your car. “I’ll text you the details. Buy Alex a good present and don’t you dare fuck this up.”

Without another word you started up the engine and began driving away. “Thank you!” he called after, completely unable to withhold his joy. For two years he had lived believing he would never have a future with the two of you. But now, he had hope.

Little did he know, the path toward parenthood he had just embarked on was leading him only to pain and heartbreak.

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