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angeli-marco-writes · 3 years ago

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Harry Holland - Make It Up To You

A/N & WC - I think friends to lovers Harry Holland is my favourite thing? Also this is kinda in honour of his bday on Monday. Or just Harry in general. I do not know Harry, nor do I claim to: this is a work of fiction. 5k.

Warnings - angst, bickering, so much swearing, smut: wet dream, pillow humping, oral (f rec). 18+

Summary - You haven't seen Harry for a while when you come to stay with him, but you at least expect your best friend to keep plans with you once in a while despite his busy schedule. He promises to make it up to you, but it's the inflection of the 'how' that has you intrigued...

STAYING AT HARRY’S HOUSE while on a break from your travels was a given. Where else would you stay other than with your best friend in his ridiculously luxurious apartment? He doesn’t even make you pay rent, no matter how long you stay or how much water you use.

However, you’d certainly imagined that it would be more... sociable than it is currently. Harry is working so much that you’ve seen him for a sum total of three hours, and you’ve been here for a week. It’s never been this long before.

“We can have a movie night when I get home,” he promised you on his way out the door this morning with a fleeting kiss to your cheek, and a plate of stacked waffles left behind him, maple-scented smoke piping from them. And setting off the smoke alarm a moment later.

You ate the waffles you cooked for him, gave the place a once over with the duster and vacuum, and here you are, alone in his living room, half an hour after he promised to be home. Waiting.

He waited for you, you can definitely give him that. You were away for six months on the last stint, barely able to text him weekly, let alone every day like you’d previously promised you would. And he still waited, and sent you any and all important updates in his life while hoping you had the best time and applying no pressure for you to reply, since you were living your dream, even if that meant you were away from him. So why are you getting so impatient while waiting for him to return from work? What gives you the right? Indignance, that’s what.

It’s not like you and Harry haven’t been through stretches like this before. You lived together while you were at university and while he was working in America and Germany and lord knows where else with his brother. But then you were able to speak. He’d face-time you at a certain time every couple of days, and if he had to cancel, you’d always rearrange, and spend every minute together once he returned.

Right now, you just really miss Harry. The sort of missing that creates an ache in your chest. He couldn’t be avoiding you, could he?

The clock chimes eight o’clock. He’s an hour late.

And nine o’clock. Two hours.

By half past nine, you’ve finished all the Chinese take-out. He’s not coming. He’s probably at the pub with his crew mates, or going home with a girl. Not that you can fault him on a single front, but it still stings like salt in a fresh wound.

You eject the DVD you’d paused at the very first moment, put your used cutlery in the already-packed dishwasher which you slip a tablet into and switch on, turn all the lights off, lock the front door, and make your way to bed. If Harry’s not coming home, you can steal his bed just for the night. It’s bigger than yours in the spare room, comfier, and, as reluctant as you are to admit it, it smells of him.

By half past ten, the curtains are drawn, the room is enveloped in darkness, and you’re sound asleep, wistfully dreaming of Harry’s return.

———

Running a hand through his ginger curls, Harry slips through the door just as the grandfather clock down the hall chimes midnight. He’s cautious about the door snicking shut behind him, assuming you to be sound asleep already, since why wouldn't you be?

He is five hours late, and berating himself for it. And that’s the whole reason he doesn’t want to wake you. He’ll make it up to you tomorrow, he swears, by returning every kind gesture you’ve offered him in the past week that he’s shut down with only self preservation in mind.

He once again runs a hand through his red locks as he toes off his converse at the front door, tucking them into the cubby hole.

The apartment is in darkness, not even the lamp in the living room left on to give a faint glow like last night. He has to stumble through and grapple for the door handle to his bedroom, and even as he enters, he almost stumbles over the foot of his own bed.

“Shit,” he blasphemes, pulling his torch out and shining it through the room. You don’t usually turn all the lights off, he thinks.

That’s when he sees a bump beneath his duvet.

“Y/n?” he hisses, low and gruff.

Yet, you don’t stir.

“Y/n?” he repeats, softer this time, edging nearer to the bed.

Still nothing.

You roll over in bed, grasping at the pillow from the other side and tugging it down beneath the duvet with you. He’s watched you sleep before, even slept in the same bed as you on a few occasions, and you always do this. A chuckle bubbles in his throat as he thinks about that time you yanked a pillow out from beneath his head in order to hug it instead of him, but he forces the memory away.

As your eyes flutter, Harry briefly thinks he’s woken you, so he stills. Like a statue, he observes your breathing settling back to normal with only your usual amount of wriggling.

A smile creeps across his freckled face as he thinks of the last time you shared a bed, and you haven’t done so since for good reason. Harry had but a sliver of the mattress and even less blanket. You kicked him all night, accidentally slapping him once or twice. The only upside was that you didn’t make any noise, unlike Harry himself, who is a terrible snorer, he internally concedes.

After that event, you agreed never to share a bed again, because you got a pittance of sleep that night. And that’s the reason Harry begins to undress, folding his jeans over the back of his chair and hurling his shirt into the laundry basket with finite precision, and reaches for the door. He can crash in the spare room tonight.

A whimper rents the silence, and it sure as hell didn’t come from him.

With a shaky hand, he removes his grip on the door handle. His bare feet shuffle towards the bed of their own volition: he whispers your name again, and this time solicits a response.

“Harry…”

He flicks the torch back on on his phone, and shines it on the bed, shielding your face from the harsh light with his hand cupped around the camera. Beneath the duvet he can faintly decipher the shape of your hips rutting into the pillow. Christ he wishes he hadn’t seen that, because now it’ll be etched in his mind forever, along with every other unholy fantasy he’s developed of you since the dawn of your friendship.

It’s like his body moves before his mind can in the next couple of moments, because suddenly he’s in bed beside you, his fingers hovering over your cheek as pretty little moans and prayers of his name spill from your perfect lips.

One trembling hand gravitates to your hip beneath the sheets, only to find, much to his shock, that it’s bare. As he skims up the side of your body his fingers catch on the fabric of your shirt—no, his—bunched up just beneath your bust.

“Y/n, wake up.”

Shaking you gently, he watches your eyes flutter open at last.

“Harry?”

“It’s me, baby,” he whispers, voice suddenly hoarse, eyes searching your tired face for any indication of awareness of what you were just doing, but it doesn’t come, and his mind starts beginning to convince him that he imagined it all. And that he woke you up, inducing your wrath, for nothing.

“Don’t fucking ‘baby’ me,” you then snap, as if flipping a switch. Angry y/n is in place, and Harry doesn’t like them one bit. “You fucking ditched me. Again. How many hours late is this, Harry? Come on, that’s not fair. And then you wake me up?”

“You’re in my bed.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you turn over, “I’ll go back to the spare room.”

“No!” His arm darts out to catch yours before you can stray too far. “Stay. Please. I’m sorry, I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

You daren’t meet his piercing, hazel gaze, lest your resolve shatter, so you scoff derisively and straighten your shirt. “How, Harry? Waving a magic wand and taking us back before uni? Before travelling? You can’t do that.”

Ouch, he thinks, yet you’re right, and that’s what stings. So if you’re going all in, so is he. No holds barred.

“Were you having a sex dream about me?”

Now he’s caught you out. You feel yourself begin to fluster, cheeks heating of their own volition, embarrassment creeping through you like a shiver. Perhaps you were: it’s all a little foggy right now, but judging by the conspicuous wet patch on your underwear and the pillow between your thighs, you’d say a sex dream is a pretty safe bet. But for him to discover the crush you’ve been harbouring on him for the past five years in this way? Not what you intended. This is still salvageable, right?

You gulp, “Not everything is about you, Harry. It could’ve been any one of the other dozen Harry’s I know.”

“But I know you, darling,” he purrs, prowling over the bed to reach you. “And I know when you’re lying. It was about me, wasn’t it?”

You shake your head this time, not trusting your voice, especially not when Harry’s hot, cigarette-scented breath fans the shell of your ear.

“I can feel your heart beating from here.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe I was dreaming about you, but that doesn’t mean I’m not fucking fuming at you!” At last you meet his gaze with a powerful scowl, fisting the duvet as you enunciate every word. “You stood me up again! What the hell time is this? And now you think you can taunt me? And for what? I’ll find a hotel tomorrow.”

“Let me make it up to you.”

Your brow arches, scepticism rife within you. “Didn’t you just come home from another girl’s house?”

“What?!” he explodes, his cheeks growing red with fury, embarrassment, shame, “no! Why the fuck would you think that of me?”

“You’re creeping back into the house at midnight with your hair all rumpled. You forget I know what you’re like.”

A beat of silence pounds between you, just starting to become awkward, when he concedes, “That’s fair. I was with the lads, I’m sorry, baby. Now will you please let me make it up to you?” His eyes grow darker, pupils blown with lust as they bore into your own. “I know your pretty pussy wants me to.”

Fuck you want to hate him right now, but your pussy is aching for him, throbbing in pure need. Years in the making, and it all comes down to the next split second. Of course you’re absolutely fucking seething at him for missing everything the past week, but if the rumours about his tongue are right then maybe you can forgive him…

“Fuck, okay.”

His smirk is purely feral, eyes piercing your soul as he moves slowly, tantalisingly down your body. Skilled fingers pick up the bunched hem of your shirt while his other palm slips beneath you, flat against your spine, drawing you down until only the crown of your head rests on his pillow, comfortably though.

“Shirt, off,” he commands, “I wanna see those pretty tits bounce as I eat your sweet pussy.”

Wow. You definitely never knew that he was so good at dirty talk. You’re already desperately wet, but his words, in that gorgeous accent of his, add another wave of heat to your core.

You scramble to rid yourself of his shirt while he moves slowly away from you, but you don’t miss the way his hands fist into balls at the lack of contact. You can barely tear your eyes from him as he looms at the bottom of the bed in all his glory. His thick cock is barely contained by his very tight Calvin Klein boxers, and you can confirm that his happy trail matches his unruly auburn curls in the most mesmerising sense. Sure, he’s not ripped, but he’s toned, slender, and fucking mouthwateringly gorgeous.

His hands find your breasts as he comes back down, pulling and tweaking at your pebbled buds that, of he’s honest with himself about, he can’t wait to draw between his lips and pull pretty little squeals from those lips of yours as he does so, but right now, he can feel the heat emanating from your pussy, and he’s desperate for a taste. Not quite yet, though…

His thumb brushes the tender skin of your upper thigh where stretch marks lie. He brings his lips to your flesh, pecking each and every single one of them. The fact that this is his first true touch of the night is incredible. He knows how insecure you are about them, how insecure you always have been. In fact, the last time you shared a bed, easily more than a year or two ago now, was when he first saw them, when you changed in front of him like you hadn’t done in a while, and he didn’t want to mention them, but then you covered yourself and all but ran away. He promised you that you were beautiful no matter what, that your stretch marks only added to your perfection, and he brushed away your tears. This moment of intimacy is special to the both of you, even if it’s not entirely new. If you’re being honest with yourself, that’s the way you knew you were irrevocably head over heels for him. Because he was a real man.

He uses his every asset as he travels the expanse of your body in languorous exploration: lips, mouth, teeth, tongue, long, lithe fingers, even his curls that scrape over your bellybutton in the most sensuous way. This man is a virtuoso when it comes to playing your body, and he’s never even tuned your instrument before now. By the time he’s finished his primary exploration, it feels as though there’s not a single inch of your skin not on fire, not a single inch untouched. Arms, legs, chest, even the way his breath ghosts over your face to measure your reactions.

“Harry, baby…” you whine.

His eyes instantly flicker up to yours, a lazy smile tugging at his petal pink lips. “What is it, darling?”

“Please…”

“I’ll get there,” he promises, biting over your hip bone in the most delectable way, a squeak escaping your lips as your legs flail a little, knotting around his bare back, “but I want to savour this. We’ve got time.”

And with a wink, he’s back to work.

He’s maddenning, truly taking his sweet arse time while avoiding where you’re simply aching and the most needy for him. Open mouthed, languid kisses up and down the expanse of your freshly-shaved legs are nice but not what you had in mind when he said he’d make this up to you. Then again, the rumours are right: he is driving you absolutely insane, though not with pleasure exactly, more by testing the threshold of your impatience. Your hips buck up of their own volition, but he simply shifts his hand to be flat on your stomach, pressing you back down to the mattress, keeping you there.

His tempered touch is devious and yet his path is indiscernible, experimenting with pressures and touches as he works his way around your stomach and thighs, experimenting to find exactly what makes you tick, like he can feel the blood rushing in your veins with every brief touch that makes your belly keel.

But just as you feel like this is the end, his fingers graze your panties. Oh. He’s good. From one single touch, your entire body is electrified. A choked breath gets caught in your throat. He repeats the same touch again, experimental, perhaps a little harder. Wow. And then he draws away, your legs falling open onto the bed, and he’s licking a fiery stripe across your hip bone, jutted and waiting for him with the current arch of your spine.

“Oh baby,” he growls, “you look so pretty.”

His face buries into your stomach, his clammy hands palming at your aching breasts as his legs cage yours into place. You manage to open your eyes fully, just to see the flush of his cheeks, the mess of his curls. Running your fingers through them, he kicks back into action, and makes a trail of kisses down your pelvis.

His lips press to the line of your high-waist panties, where the elastic stretches around the joint of your thigh and pelvis, cutting halfway across your asscheek. A spark of electricity shoots through your entire lower body as his teeth graze you at just the right spot.

“Such a good girl, so wet for me, you even drenched your panties…”

You can feel his words between your legs, heat gushing down there as each syllable pulses throughout you, eagerness for him to taste you without any barriers. The need for him isn’t just insistent, it’s mandatory. The tip of his nose nudges your barely covered clit first, and he inhales deeply, his hands coming to wrap around the chunkiest part where your thighs meet your ass and grabbing handfuls, drawing your pussy closer to his face as he all but buries his head between your heavenly thighs, forcibly squeezing them together around his ears. He has his reasons: when he moves your panties to the side and licks a straight stripe up your bare pussy, he can feel your moans and hear his own groans of delight at how sweet you taste.

So slowly, meticulously, and yet with a desperate need as though he can’t bear to have a single thing preventing his unhindered access to your dripping core, he hooks his fingers around the waistband and drags your panties off, inhaling from them with depravity twinkling in his eyes before discarding them, and landing them in the laundry basket. Your hole flutters and clenches around nothing.

His eyes dilate further when met with your glistening core, throbbing with arousal, and it’s the first time you’ve ever been looked at in such a way. If you’re being honest, it’s been an embarrassingly long time since anyone touched you sexually, let alone with the intention of making you come. No man has done this before, taken his time with you the way Harry is.

The tip of his skilful tongue parts the seam of your lower lips, a drop of your arousal falling into his mouth. His eyes flutter as he swallows, moaning at the taste.

“Fuck, had I known you tasted this good I would’ve gone down on you years ago.”

He makes a valid point: had you known pleasure felt this fucking good? You’d have jumped him years ago and skipped all the other bastards who couldn’t make you come for the life of their sorry selves.

His eyes fixate on yours, and this is the true endgame for you. The thinnest trim of hazel rims his dilated pupils, his gaze enthralled, holding some secret truth that you can’t quite decipher.

“Are you sure you want this? You’ve gotta know that if we do this, your pussy is mine now.”

The threat in his voice, paired with the deep timbre of his usually tenor tone sends your mind reeling. Yes, you want this. Yes, he will make it up to you with a mindblowing orgasm, but being all Harry’s? Of course you want that, but right now it’s a lot to think about.

He can tell he’s losing you, and a sinking pit opens up in his belly. His heart pounds in his chest. How could he ask that of you? You’ve got guys queuing up to date you: he’s just a friend to you, surely, a horny friend who took him up on the first relief offer he gave, simply so you’d forgive him for being such a capital knobhead for days.

“You don’t have to—”

“Yes. I’m yours, Harry. Of course I am. But you won’t be forgiven unless you make me come,” you say, your voice strong, resolute, so damn willing to give yourself to him. Your first potential orgasm with a partner: what a monumental event.

All words die on your tongue. The heat of his breath across your goosepimpled skin is licentious torture. But then he’s all in.

He begins with drawing figure-eights with his tongue on your throbbing clit while one finger pushes at your entrance, circling, and pushing in after an agonising amount of teasing. Your nerve endings have somehow multiplied tenfold since this began because usually such attention wouldn’t feel like a corporeal inferno, but here you are.

“You good up there, baby?” he asks.

“Mhm,” is your full response, but an involuntary squeal escapes you when his lips graze your sensitive pearl.

When he doesn’t think you’re paying enough attention, his teeth sink into your inner thigh, sucking hard enough to undoubtedly bring out a bruise within a couple hours. Your entire lower body tingles, and you’re frankly surprised you’re not ripping the stuffing out of the duvet with your vise-like grip on it with the hand that’s not digging crescent moons into Harry’s shoulders. He doesn’t seem to mind, and feasts on you like you’re his last meal, the way you wish you could be tasting him.

The hunger has you keening, ready to beg for mercy as he slowly, torturously works you up to orgasm with his tongue simply everywhere.

Now you understand his cockiness about sex: he’s good enough to have that sense of superiority and not seem like a cock. Soon enough, though, he’s not cocky anymore, but instead he’s a man on a mission, varying his tempo and technique to remain in tune with your body, like he’s the bow and you’re his Stradivarius.

The casual carnality of getting reparatory oral sex from your friend and current housemate has you hazy with rebellion, mischief, and it’s those exact qualities which bring the coil in the pit of your stomach and the electricity sparking at your every vein to a snapping point.

“Harry. Harry!” you cry out, yanking at his gorgeous curls

His eyes fixate on yours, but his hands don’t stop their work. “What is it, baby?” he purrs.

“You know what it is…”

His eyes twinkle with mischief as he reduces all contact, rendering you a whining mess in the sheets. He’s going to make you fucking say it when you can barely string a sensical thought together.

“Please… please make me come,” you beg, not even caring how desperate you must seem.

His smirk grows, but he edges nearer to your pussy.

“I’ll do you one better, a public service, and do what all those bellends couldn’t do.”

And he seems so fucking happy to be doing it, even with that layer of bloody smugness that you love him all the more for. As a friend, of course…

He pins his fingers in loops around the bony part of your ankle, now spreading your legs apart as far as they’ll go, delving deep. Real deep. Only to withdraw, trail the briefest, sweetest kisses up the inside of your ankle, and go straight back to attacking your aching pussy. Fireworks explode behind your eyelids as he adds the bony heel of his hand to the mix, right atop your clit, adding a constant pressure. Your climax is on the precipice right now, and you’re so nearly there. But Harry seems to be enjoying your writhing and begging, drawing out your pleasure until he’s eked the very final drop out of you, a little too much. And actually, while his hand remains constant, the work of his fingers and tongue varies depending on the pitch and volume of your moans. Dickhead.

“I’m close!”

“I know, baby.”

Tears spring to your eyes at his relentless assault, and some innate part of you just knows this will be the orgasm to top all orgasms. Harry’s putting his entire body into your pleasure, holding your legs paper while his curls scratch your nipples and your belly depending on where his fingers are. He’s laying absolute siege to your every sense. Is this what the brink of insanity feels like?

Your groans turn to moans, and your moans turn to screams, and before you know it, you’re an incoherently babbling mess as he works your overly stimulated clit to its very furthest limits. Not that you’re complaining… not when you’re so nearly there. Almost… almost…

Heaven.

Limbless, weightless, soaring, the onslaught of pleasure attacking your every sense with purpose that only Harry can offer. He keeps eating you out throughout your whole orgasm, depraved sounds coming from him, his moans reverberating throughout your entire body. Your throat feels hoarse in no time at all, though your mouth remains open in a silent gasping plea as the brightest array of colours passes begins your lids. Your walls contract around his single finger, still steadily stroking you inside, finding that special spongy spot and pressing just hard enough to elongate your phantasmagorical of highs for even longer. Shivers shock up and down your spine, tingles dissipating as the peak ebbs away, but the scalding pleasure is still ever present and all consuming as your whole body begins to relax from the insane orgasm.

Your arms fall to your sides, your chest heaving, a lazy smile gracing your features. If only you could open your eyes to look at Harry, to thank him, to tell him he’s definitely forgiven. He watches you: Your postorgasm ethereal glow, brighter than all the stars in the sky, and the most heartbreaking thing about watching it for what he assumes to be both the first and last time is that it isn’t his to savour.

His pale skin is scorching and slick with a thin sheen of sweat once he sidles into bed beside you. Your palm remains open, fingers curling ever so slightly. After years of friendship, he should know what you want with such an action, but he doesn’t reciprocate it.

“Thank you, Baz,” you pant, “that was incredible.”

He shrugs, though you feel the movement more than see it, and you also feel him reach to the bedside table for something. This is so unlike Harry.

Shit. What’s wrong? Does he regret what you’ve done? Does he not like you that way? Oh God, oh God, oh God…

“Baby?” Your voice is barely a whisper, a note of pleading. “Harry, talk to me.”

“I can’t!” he exclaims. “What am I supposed to say? I— I don’t just want this to be another friends with benefits shit show, I actually like you and wanted to do this shit right, and now I’ve fucked it all up by being a horny fucker and now you’re gonna resent me. And obviously you don’t like me back, you’ve made that blatantly obvious over recent years…” what the fuck. “And I can’t fucking live, knowing you’re just down the hall and waiting for me to come home every night, because I really bloody like you and I’m such a twat, bloody hell. Why do you think I’ve been avoiding you, eh? Because I like you too much to not want to kiss you every bloody second of every bloody day, and it’s agony—”

Rolling over, you silence him with a kiss, not caring for one moment where his mouth was just moments before. His cheeks are flushed beneath your hands, his body warm also, but you don’t mind. You don’t care, at all. Because you haven’t been crazy all along, and he does like you, so your feelings are reciprocated and you don’t have to feel like a massive twat just for imagining kissing him or wanting to wear his shirt to bed.

He’s the first to pull away, auburn brows furrowed.

“I want you, Harry.”

You briefly trail kisses down his jaw before biting the column of his throat, roughly sucking the base until you can be sure a bruise will appear. Staking your claim.

“And I forgive you for being late and completely flaky.”

His chuckle is soft, but it’s the first noise he’s made since his dramatic confession, so you count it as a win, especially when you pull back and are able to lie beside him, pushing stray curls off his clammy forehead. His smile is gentle once you curl your way around him, tracing every shape on his face in a new light, you notice an imbalance that has definitively never happened to you before.

“You didn’t finish, Harry,” you whisper, already trailing your trembling hands down his heaving chest and to his boxers.

“I’m fine, honestly,” he answers, but he doesn’t reach your hands in time to prevent you from finding out his embarrassing secret.

Sure, you saw him rutting into the mattress, rolling his talented hips, but you assumed it was to give you the full force of his skills. Not because he was making himself come from humping the bed…

“Oh my God, you already came…”

“Don’t,” he pleads bleatingly, “it’s embarrassing.”

You cock your head: perhaps, but he just made himself come purely from giving you head and a little bit of friction. That’s quite the achievement. Then again, it’s the same way you were attempting to finish yourself off when he caught you.

“No it’s not.” You peck his lips again. “I think it’s quite sexy.”

He groans into your next kiss, the vibrations shooting either straight to your heart or your core, and he seems to be pretty eager for both, judging by the way his hands splay on your hips and he pulls you to be straddling him.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he grins, as awake as if it were midday, not way past bloody midnight, but you’re wide awake too.

“I need to clean up. Fancy giving me a hand? Make it up to me for making such a mess?”

His devious wink is so enticing you could simply combust. “I thought you’d never ask."

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farfromharry · 2 years ago

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The bet | Harry Holland fic

Summary: Harry Holland was a dick, a dick that agreed to make a bet against one of the sweetest people he’d ever met. However his conscience got the better of him and he had to let you know, but you took it better than expected and of course you had a trick up your sleeve that let everything work out for the both of you.

Frat!Harry x Reader

Word count - 9672

Warnings - language probably, i think thats it

Harry Holland wasn’t very bright. He should have known that when his roommates brought up the topic of Harry’s dating abilities, it was not a good idea to entertain them. That was exactly how he found himself in the centre of a bet to win your heart. He should have known from the get-go it was a horrible idea and usually he never would have done it, but then they offered him a large amount of money between them and he couldn’t turn it down. They were just rich frat boys who wanted entertainment, and apparently he was the way for them to get it.

They all made their bets on how long he could keep a fling going with some girl before she broke it off or figured out the whole thing wasn’t real. The time periods were rather insulting, none of them thought it could last longer than four months at most. The lowest being three weeks. Maybe his agreeing wasn’t just about the money, part of it was also that they had bruised his ego and of course a man with a bruised ego was never good.

You were only made the target because you were the first woman they saw, but with the way they found you you seemed like the perfect candidate. You had been sitting alone on the grass, doing some last minute studying for one of your classes. Apparently to the group of men you were an obvious target for all of those reasons. But to Harry you just looked sweet.

He prayed that you were mean, that you were a terrible person so he wouldn’t feel bad, but when he approached you with a spontaneous question he was proven wrong. His roommates couldn’t have picked a more terrible person for him to do this to. You didn’t deserve it by any means.

“Hi,” he started with, simple but effective. You raised your head. He noted the confusion on your face but you still acted kindly towards him. “This might sound strange, but uh– I’m a photography major, and you just look really beautiful in this light and I was wondering if I would be able to take a few pictures?”

He visibly saw your entire demeanour change. You suddenly got very flustered and nervous upon the sly compliment he gave you. You had never seen him before, though he was cute, even though he had yet to tell you his name. For a few seconds you were just caught off-guard. You found it hard to believe anyone just wanted to take pictures of you so you were a little sceptical of his intentions, although you agreed.

“Yeah, yeah I guess. As long as you make me look pretty,” you teased.

He smiled, shrugging his shoulders as you watched him fiddle with his camera. “I don’t think I’d have to try very hard.”

Your jaw gaped and he felt a momentary sense of pride flutter in his chest. He truly did think you were beautiful. The fact he was able to make such a pretty girl so flustered really helped to repair the damage that had been done to his ego. “Smile.” Nothing else was said as he lifted his camera to his eye, snapping a few pictures. You didn’t know how to act and you knew you were stiff and awkward, all you could muster up was a smile. He just thought it made you look cuter.

Each one of the pictures he took captured something different. The way the wind blew your hair to perfectly frame your face, the flattering colour of your sundress against your skin. In one of them you were gazing at him differently than the rest and it gave him a sense of hope. With each snap of the camera you were getting more comfortable, and all too soon he was done.

You were nervous when you watched him lower the camera, looking down at the pictures with an expression you couldn’t decipher. He was flicking through the various ones, his features completely unreadable to you.

You just had to speak up. “So, did you get ‘em?” He nodded, eyes still fixated on the screen. He couldn’t help but think maybe this was going to be easier than he originally anticipated. If he truly had feelings for you then it wouldn’t even feel like a bet anymore, it’d be a breeze. “Can I see?”

He lifted his head to smirk at you, cocking his head. “I might need some incentive,” he teased. You didn’t know what he was talking about at first, not until he pulled his phone out of his pocket with that same smirk. “Can I get your number?”

You grinned, ignoring the heat on your face. “Do I at least get to know your name first?” He hadn’t realised that during your entire interaction he hadn’t given his or gotten yours until you pointed it out. He chuckled, holding out his hand for you to shake so he could formally introduce himself. “I’m Harry.”

“Y/N,” you told him, taking his hand. He handed you his phone after that, letting you put your number in as a new contact. He was like a kid in a candy store as you were doing so, basically bouncing on his heels with anticipation. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Very cliché.” You handed his phone back with a small grin, unsure of what you were supposed to say now. Contrary to what Harry may believe, you didn’t get asked for your number pretty much ever. This was a new thing for you and you weren’t sure how you were meant to act. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for the classic tropes.” It was actually very ironic for him to say that considering he was living one with you right now.

“I’ll send these over as soon as they’re edited,” he told you, raising his camera slightly so you knew what he was talking about. You hummed. “I’ll look forward to it.”

He offered you a goodbye as he left you to your studying, heading back over to where his roommates had been waiting for him, watching the whole thing unfold from a distance. They were too excited when he made it back, hounding him to tell them what happened before he even sat down. “Tell us everything.”

He raised his phone for them to see, though the smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes. “I got her number.” He felt like a terrible person for doing this to such a sweet girl. But he only hoped what you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you. Though he didn’t see the suspicious look you were sending the groups way as they cheered for the boy you had just been talking with.

You didn’t know if it was just typical boy behaviour, but something told you to keep your guard up with this one for a little while. You hoped he would prove you wrong though, he was exceptionally cute and you would hate for him to turn out like all the other boys on this campus.

»»——⍟——««

[ 2 days into the bet ]

It was around two days later when he finally built up the courage to send you the pictures. He actually edited them right when he got back to his dorm the day he took them, but he didn’t want to seem desperate, so he waited. You were happy to receive the message though, replying back instantly without the same worries he possessed.

The photos were exceptional and you understood why he picked the major he had, he was good at it. You felt beautiful when you looked at them. Your response was simply you gushing to him about his talent and it made his heart flutter and his cheeks turn red. He tried to be smooth with it, though that wasn’t really his strong suit, telling you it was all you rather than his camera skills.

The way you were making him feel already had him assuming this bet would be easy, but he still feared what would happen when you found out. He’d seen the movies, lots of them, girls didn’t like when boy’s bet on them like this. It always went up in flames.

But he couldn’t back out now, he didn’t want to lose all that money and you were making it so easy for him. You were even taking some of the steps yourself. You were the one to ask him out on a date, just for drinks or something you said. It’d be to get to know each other better, nothing more than that you insisted. He didn’t care what it was, he still took you up on the offer without hesitation.

He was nervous before he left, his heart thumping extra hard in his chest at the prospect of trying to keep up an act the entire night, even when he was drinking. Knowing him and his loose lipped drunken self, he would be spilling all his darkest secrets to you before the night even ended. Maybe he’d have to limit the amount of drinks he had tonight. He couldn’t leave though without his roommates hyping him up, making a big deal over something that really wasn't. Harry goes on dates, sort of.

Okay maybe he could blame the nerves on the fact he doesn’t go out on dates very often, with very pretty girls nonetheless.

You were due to meet at the pub just off campus where you would spend your night. You made it there first, having found a table for the two of you to sit at, though you were waiting for him to show up before you ordered any drinks. You were nervous, just as he was, and you didn’t like it. You told yourself you were keeping your guard up, frat boys could never really be trusted. But now sitting here waiting for him, you felt like you desperately needed to attempt to impress him. It pissed you off a little, you didn’t want to seek his approval, but you couldn’t tell you nerves otherwise.

He took you off guard when he arrived, calling your name with a quiet hello to catch your attention. “‘S nice to see you again,” he told you honestly, sliding into the booth across from you. You offered him a bright smile, your entire demeanour lighting up when you saw the familiar face. “You too. I haven’t ordered yet, didn’t know what you’d be drinking.”

It was awkward at first, the two of you not exactly the most social of people. You struggled to get a good conversation flowing considering you were still technically strangers. Your conversation may have gotten off to a slow start, but when it finally got going it was like talking to an old friend. You didn’t think you would have gotten along with him this well. The two of you shared stories about every little thing you could think of. He made you laugh, you made him laugh and by the end of the night you were cuddled up on the same side of the booth, his arm around your shoulders and you leaning into his side comfortably.

When your eyes caught the clock on the wall behind the bar and saw how late it was, it wasn’t that you necessarily wanted to part with him, but it was getting late and it was already dark outside. Plus you had work you needed to do tomorrow.

“We should probably head out,” you said, running your hand over your face. He didn’t protest and didn’t complain, just agreed. The two of you made it out of the booth, the curly haired man’s hands shooting to your waist to catch you when you tripped over your own feet. Your little giggle was music to his ears, his own smile springing to his face at the joyous sound.

Even if this bet didn’t go too great, he knew he was going to enjoy spending time with you for as long as you would allow it.

By the time you left the pub you had certainly had too much to drink. Harry thought it was precious, his arm around your waist to keep you steady so you didn’t go stumbling all over the pavement. He did it the whole way back to your dorm, knowing you probably would have yelled in his face if he let you embarrass yourself out in public while drunk.

It was nice to just talk with him while you were walking, though your thoughts were all jumbled from the alcohol so it was more like you just rambling randomly about whatever you saw in passing. Just up until you recognised your dorm building. The two of you came to a stop.

“Thank you for walking me back,” you said, straying from the man’s side to stand a little bit in front of him. He liked it better like this, he could study your face from where he was standing. The way the alcohol was making you sway slightly and the wind was causing your nose to scrunch up from the chill it caused you.

“It’s no problem. Have to make sure you get home safe, wouldn’t exactly be gentlemanly of me to leave you to fend for yourself in the dark,” he said honestly. “Especially when you’re drunk.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “‘M not drunk, Harry. Slightly tipsy at most.”

He cocked his head, pausing for a few seconds as he very clearly watched you sway and struggle to stay standing still. “Oh yeah? Walk in a straight line.”

You looked down at your feet, feeling your head spin slightly at the sudden movement. Looking back up at Harry you found him watching you with a smug smile, his arms crossed over his chest knowingly. “I don’t have to prove anything to you.” You wished you could prove the smug son of a bitch wrong, but you couldn’t.

He chuckled, nodding his head. “That’s what I thought.”

You huffed. “You know what, you’re kind of an arsehole.” You were supposed to intimidate him by stepping closer, but he was finding much amusement in your drunken state. In fact he wouldn’t have been mad if you got even closer.

That you did, stopping when you were chest to chest with him, your eyes staring directly into those sweet brown ones of his. “Am I?” he mocked.

You were subconsciously pushing your face closer to him. “Mm-hm,” you confirmed, tilting your head to the right as his lips ghosted over yours. You hadn’t intended to end the night kissing him. But you weren’t angry this was the way it had gone.

“Are you really going to kiss me if I’m such an arsehole?” he teased, his large hand cupping your cheek. Your noses kept brushing against one another, the two of you so close that one of you was sure to close the gap any second.

“Be a shame if I did.”

He was the one to finally initiate the kiss, moving your lips against one another's sweetly. It was a pleasant first kiss, one you wouldn’t mind having more of. “Shame on you then, Y/N.” He barely got his tormenting words out before you were stealing his lips again in another kiss. Now that you had one taste of his lips, you couldn’t get enough.

»»——⍟——««

[ 3 weeks into the bet ]

After your first date you and Harry started to spend an exceptional amount of time together. It never mattered what you were doing, you just really enjoyed each other’s company. Sometimes you’d study while he just sat with you, others you would be his muse when one of his assignments required him to go out and take some pictures, they quickly became some of his favourites. Sometimes things escalated to the two of you making out in your dorm, but whatever you were doing you had fun.

You began to look forward to the days you would spend with him, and before you knew it three weeks had passed by and the two of you were quite close. He told you he wanted to take you out for the night, saying you deserved to be treated after a long week of non-stop studying for some upcoming tests you had. You could afford to take the night off to spend with the very cute boy you were very fond of. It didn’t take much persuading on his end.

The redhead had told you to meet him at the frat where he stayed at six. You were going to go get dinner and then see a late showing of a movie he’d been telling you about for the last few weeks. He had been raving about it during the build up to his release and he hadn’t even seen it yet. But you were finally about to.

You got there a little bit early, but you found him preoccupied and didn’t exactly know what to do. He was talking to who you assumed must have been one of his roommates, though he looked rather annoyed with him. You were confused when you heard your name dropped into conversation, but it wasn’t by Harry. Instead it was by the man you didn’t know. They were talking about something to do with money, you didn’t know what, but you also saw the brunette in front of him slip quite a few notes into your date's hand.

You decided that was the time to make yourself known. You didn’t like feeling like you were eavesdropping, so you made your presence known with a quiet clearing of your throat. It caused both men’s heads to whip around to look at you, Harry’s expression softening at the sight of you.

You approached him with a small smile, letting him tuck you into his side with his arm around you. “You ready to go?” you asked, eyeing the man that stood beside him smirking at you. The look made you uncomfortable, and you couldn’t put your finger on it but it was like they knew something you didn’t. Whatever it was you would certainly figure it out but for now you just wanted to enjoy your night with Harry. He nodded. “Let me just get my jacket.”

You were only briefly left alone with the other frat boy but you hated every second of it. He looked like he was itching to say something but was holding himself back from it as well as he could. All that he did manage to say to you was a simple, “So Harry, huh?”

You were unsure how to respond, pursing your lips and nodding your head awkwardly. He felt as though he was taking forever and you couldn’t possibly think what he was doing that would be taking him so long. You were mentally begging he’d hurry up though wherever he was.

Thankfully he came back soon. “Alright, let’s go pretty lady.” You locked your fingers together, the redhead offering you a smile and a disgruntled wave to his roommate before leaving the house with you. Only then did you speak up about whatever the hell had happened inside. “What’s his problem? He was being really weird.”

You didn’t notice how Harry’s entire body tensed up at your words, and he was glad. If you noticed he didn’t think he would have been able to give you an explanation as to why. But as for a lie about his ‘friend’, he could easily create one of those. “Frat boys, they’re… strange, what can I say?”

You grinned, squeezing his hand. “Tell me about it,” you teased. He scoffed, shaking his head as any complaint died on his tongue at the sound of your laughter. He just stuck to rolling his eyes as the two of you headed to dinner.

The dinner was pleasant. You hadn’t really spent much time in a formal setting with him where it was the two of you, but with so many others around. You were used to ordering in to your dorm or attempting to cook together in the frat house when everyone was gone for the night. But it was a positive change. It meant the two of you could really make conversation rather than just getting distracted making out or something. That had happened one too many times which usually always resulted in burnt food.

After dinner you headed straight to the cinema, indulging Harry’s excitement to see the film that was to be played soon. It made you happy to hear his giddy rambles as you walked along the pavement together. Most of the duration of the film was spent with you curled into his side in the uncomfortable seats, occasionally stealing his popcorn when he wasn’t paying attention. The way he got so invested was adorable to you, and you could feel something blooming in your chest for him that you never imagined you would have felt for some frat boy. Though he wasn’t actually like any other frat boy you’d ever met.

Despite having spent hours that night with Harry, coming out of the cinema late into the night, you still didn’t want him to leave yet. Like the gentleman he was he walked you to your dorm, the two of you stopping outside the building where you usually parted.

Your arms were tight around his neck as you gazed at him, his firmly planted on your hips to keep you close to him. You enjoyed being so close. “Don’t want you to leave yet,” you murmured, brushing your lips against his ever so lightly. He hummed, nudging his nose against yours, tilting his head to the side like he was going to kiss you. “You could invite me in.”

It was merely a suggestion, but the tone of voice he used told you he really wanted you to take it. “Is that something you’d like?” The proximity was killing you, you desperately wanted to close the gap and just finally kiss him.

He raised his brows, pursing his lips to hide his grin. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” He attempted to do just as you wanted and kiss you, but you dodged out of the way at the last minute, forcing a groan from his throat. You just laughed at him, intertwining your fingers so you could lead him inside the building.

He followed behind you like a lost puppy. By now he’d been in your dorm countless times, but he always seemed to forget which room it was. The dorm building was like a maze to him, much different than a frat house where he knew his way around. Luckily though, unlike him, you didn’t have a roommate. You were one of the few lucky ones that had managed to get a room to yourself. That was one of the things he envied about where you stayed.

“Home sweet home,” you announced, flicking on the light beside the door that lit up the room. You noted that he was still stuck in your doorway when you looked at him, the boy surprisingly feeling rather shy. You tugged him inside with a cheeky grin, raising your eyebrows teasingly as you led him further into your room. “You’ve been in here before, dummy. Y’don’t have to be so stiff and shy.”

He rolled his eyes at you, going lax as you motioned towards your bed for him to sit. You shuffled a little awkwardly for a minute, trying to decide what the pair of you could do in here. He wasn’t expecting anything from you but the way his hand was brushing over your back as he waited for you to speak made it so your words wouldn’t come out. “Uh you can decide what we do. W-We could just talk, or watch another movie. Maybe cuddle a little,” you suggested. If you were being honest you really wanted him to choose the latter, you were craving his arms wrapped around you right now but you were much too embarrassed to outright ask. Thankfully he made the correct decision for you. “How about all three?” he winked.

You beamed, basically bouncing on your feet as you grabbed your laptop and set everything up for the two of you. All he had to do was climb into your small twin bed and open his arms for you.

Before you knew it you were finding yourself back in the warmth of his embrace like you had been a few times over the past few weeks. It was quickly becoming one of your favourite places to be. He would hold you so gently but so securely at the time and it made you feel safe. Sometimes it got a little too distracting, just like now. You were supposed to be watching the movie he’d chosen, but you couldn’t help but get completely lost in him.

The film on your laptop had been long since abandoned as you cuddled closer into the warm man. He was still invested by the looks of it, his lips routinely brushed against your forehead everytime one of the characters said something loving to one another. It made you feel adored, your heart warm in your chest. But just like you it wasn’t much later that he found himself losing interest in what was playing out on screen, instead shifting his undivided attention to you resting against his chest.

“Hey,” he whispered, nudging his nose against your head. It was supposed to be a signal to look at him, he wanted to see your pretty eyes looking back at him.

You followed his wishes, shooting him a lazy grin as you locked eyes. He looked like he was dying to say something, words right on the tip of his tongue as he traced his fingers down the side of your face gently. “What’s on your mind?” you asked, tilting your head to press a kiss to the palm of his hand.

You could feel his heart beginning to pound against his chest as he realised you caught him in his moment of deep thinking. He was speaking honestly. His friend’s bet long gone from his thoughts. “I really like you. I’ve loved spending so much time with you over the last few weeks.”

He paused for a few seconds, trying to gauge your reaction as best he could. You didn’t know what he was doing though, so you just urged him to continue with a hum. You didn’t know what you were supposed to say back to him in the moment. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him back, you certainly did and hearing his confession was making you swoon. Distracting you from any rational thought you could have had. “And I wanted to know what we are? If you’re ready, I want to finally label us.”

You felt shy under his harsh gaze, but you didn’t want to let him know that. “Well, you’d have to ask me if you want my answer,” you teased. He groaned, burying his face in your neck for a few seconds. The heat coming from his skin told you that he was embarrassed, maybe even scared to put his feelings out there in the open. He was scared of rejection. He was taking time to build his courage before he said anything that might make him look dumb.

Though when he finally did it he wanted to make it as sure as possible that you’d say yes, taking to pressing his lips against the skin of your face when he finally felt brave enough. Maybe he could persuade you with a flurry of kisses.

“So, what d’you say? Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked between kisses. You were in complete bliss. You may have told yourself before this all started that you needed to keep your guard up but he was making that increasingly difficult with how perfect he was being. Apparently you were just a sucker for his kisses. “I’ll have to think about it,” you teased.

He scoffed, his hands trailing down to your sides to press into the areas he knew were ticklish. The only way you were getting him to stop was to give him a serious answer, one you probably would have given if you could breathe. You were too busy laughing loudly, stomach hurting from the excessive motion. “Okay, okay. Stop,” you wheezed.

He raised his hands in defence, backing off a little and flashing you a smile. He was taken off guard though when you pulled him back, arms around his neck so you could kiss him again. This one was different to the others, it was slow and soft, something you could definitely get used to. “I’d love to.”

»»——⍟——««

[ 12 weeks into the bet ]

Before you knew it you and Harry felt like you were getting serious. You went from spending a few days a week together to nearly all of your time outside of classes together. The bet hadn’t crossed his mind since that night he took you to see that film, it was still at the back of his mind but when he was with you he was so distracted by everything about you that he didn’t even think about it. Not until one of his roommates came to bring him his portion of the money, telling Harry he surprised him. Apparently he had bet on you lasting nine weeks, and you were well past that point now. You were getting closer and closer to that three month mark everyday and his roommates were beginning to get restless knowing they were going to have to pay out soon if he didn’t fuck up.

Him on the other hand, he was confident you’d make it the whole stretch, and farther if you didn’t find out. But the more it was brought up, the more money he was accumulating, the harder he found it to sleep with the guilt plaguing his mind. Even his dreams resorted to all the awful ways in which you could react. Each was worse than the last and he knew he had to come clean before he exploded.

That weekend Harry was taking you to meet his family. You had the week off from Uni and he thought it was time, time for quite a lot of things actually. On the drive back home he decided he was going to tell his brothers about the bet and see what they thought he should do. And maybe before you left he would end up telling you about it for himself. Surely it wasn’t going to go great but it would be better to tell you now rather than later before he truly fucked everything up.

You noticed how quiet he was in the car, rather confused considering usually he’d be chatting your ear off about some random thing. It concerned you. “You okay?”

He took his eyes off of the road only to shoot you a quick glance and a reassuring smile. “‘M fine. Just nervous I guess.”

The fact that he was nervous terrified you. Surely that meant he didn’t think it was going to go well, or his family wasn’t going to like you. Before now you hadn’t been worried, you were sure you’d be able to make a positive impression. If his family were anything like him then the weekend would go swimmingly. But now you were rethinking all of that. “Shouldn’t I be the nervous one? I am meeting your family for the first time.” You finished your sentence off with a strained laugh. It alerted him of your sudden anxiety.

He tried to laugh it off, feeling the need to reassure you that he was positive his family would love you, but they’d only cause problems for him not you. “I’m nervous my brothers are going to be weird. They like to tease and who knows what they’ll tell you about me that I didn’t want you to know.” The words made you grin and Harry knew he’d fucked up in bringing that point up. It was likely now even if they didn’t tell you anything unprompted, you would now be the one to ask and they’d spill all his secrets.

You poked his arm with your smile still firmly planted on your face. “Things like another girlfriend or just embarrassing stories?”

He rolled his eyes, lifting one hand from the wheel to flip you off. “I already have one incredible girlfriend, I don’t need another, my love.” You verbally awed, dramatically in order to tease him further. It was all making his cheeks heat up and then made you smile brightly. You loved making him shy and flustered like this when you got the chance, just like he enjoyed doing to you. “A true sap, Holland.”

“Only for you.” That was completely truthful. Before you he didn’t ever think he could be this way with a girl, but now he couldn’t imagine himself being any different. Especially not with you. The rest of the drive to his home was pleasant, now that his ‘fears’ were out in the open the two of you could relax with each other again.

It didn’t take much longer for you to arrive, a whole new swirl of emotions erupting in your stomach as you climbed out of his car. He noticed, ever the observant boyfriend, taking your hand in his and placing a kiss to the back of it. He waited until you were ready before he led you up the path to his home.

“My parents are out at the minute, should be back sometime later.” He slipped his key into the lock of the front door while you waited patiently behind him. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he greeted, motioning for you to enter first like the gentleman he was. You stepped inside with curiosity, surveying the inside of the house. He noted the way you were studying your surroundings, guiding you forward to somewhere you could sit.

“‘M just going to go talk to my brothers, I’ll be right back,” he promised, pressing a kiss to your head before he was jogging up the stairs. You didn’t really know what to do, you felt awkward considering you had never been in his house before and you didn’t know when his parents were going to be back.

You were shocked when you felt something cold against your hand, turning your head to see it was a small grey dog nuzzling against you. You smiled brightly, not having known he even had one, but she was adorable. You fussed the precious pup up until Harry came back downstairs, looking considerably paler than he had earlier on. “You didn’t tell me you had–” You words caught in your throat when you saw the look on his face. “Is everything okay?”

It was risky to spill everything before dinner even happened, but he wasn’t sure he could survive pretending nothing was bothering him for that long. Telling you at this point could go one of two ways. Either you exploded and left, leaving him to explain to his parents everything going on. Or dinner was very awkward and then you exploded after it was over. Both ways he felt there’d be a similar conclusion.

“I-I have to admit something,” he said. He sounded too serious for your liking. You were unsure if he was joking or not. He surely wasn’t going to break up with you when he’d just brought you all this way to meet his family. So what could he possibly have to tell you?

You tried to lighten the mood. Test the waters a little to see if he was kidding. “Uh oh, you want to own up about that secret girlfriend now?”

When he didn’t laugh you realised he wasn’t kidding at all. You could see the discomfort growing on his face and it made you shuffle awkwardly in your seat. You were starting to grow uncomfortable yourself. “Harry, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

He didn’t realise the way he was acting was making you just as scared as he was in the moment. He briefly apologised, though he barely even knew what he was saying. “Sorry, I um, I’m just worried you’ll hate me.”

You couldn’t have made yourself any smaller where you were sitting. You were practically waiting for the couch to open up and swallow you to avoid whatever conversation you and Harry were about to have. When he didn’t say anything you realised he’d been waiting for you to respond. He needed a little bit of reassurance even if it didn’t last long. “I could never hate you.”

That started his long explanation about the bet his roommates created and everything that started it and followed. You were quiet the entire time, a little too quiet for his liking. But he couldn’t be picky right now, you weren��t screaming at him and he supposed that was a good thing. He couldn’t gauge your reaction while he was talking. Your face was too stone cold for him to tell.

He trailed off towards the end of his story when he made sure to add that he didn’t have the same view as when he started the bet, by now he truly did have feelings for you and he wouldn’t trade that for the world. In a way he was grateful for it because it gave him you, but of course he knew how it must’ve hurt your feelings to be seen as a prize or an obstacle he needed to get over to win the game. “But Y/N, all my feelings for you are real. I promise, and I’m so sorry.”

You were silent for a few minutes, until suddenly you just hummed. “Let's outsmart those bastards,” you said simply. That wasn’t what he had been expecting at all, you hadn’t even gotten angry at him. Something definitely wasn’t right about this whole thing. “What?” he questioned, brushing the tears from his eyes. In the time it’d taken for him to explain everything to you he hadn’t noticed that he began crying.

You sighed. You were mad, of course you were, but not as mad as he expected you to be. “I knew something was up. Ever since that night we went to the cinema a few weeks back, I got there earlier than I told you I did and I heard something about me and money– I guess I just worked it out and my feelings outweighed my sense.”

He frowned. You basically knew this entire time and never said anything to him. Why hadn’t you said anything or blown up at him before now? Why weren’t you showcasing your anger now everything was out in the open? He just didn’t understand and it was driving him mad.

The confusion was written all over his face and you could clearly see it. Clearing things up for him. “Look, I’m not happy about this by any means. But if you want to, we can work through this and at least give them a taste of their own medicine.”

He still wasn’t really understanding what you meant by that. “What do you mean?” All that properly registered in his mind was that you were willing to work through this with him, he hadn’t lost you because of his stupid decision. “We continue to play along. You said four months right, then you get the money? We can do that.”

His mouth gaped. “Are you sure? I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Although he would have liked the money, it would have been helpful to him, he didn’t want to continue this if it was going to hurt you. “Oh come on. Let them think it’s going how they want, get your money and then I’ll channel my inner Kat Stratford, maybe write an angry poem about how much I hate you; put on a show for them to make it believable.” He was just staring at you in utter disbelief. He knew you were perfect but he seriously underestimated the extent to which you were.

“Have I ever told you how incredible you are?” he asked, bringing his hand to your cheek. He intended on kissing you, and you may not be overly angry but you still weren’t planning to make this easy for him. If he wanted your forgiveness he was going to have to earn it, you appreciated hearing the confession from him, but you weren’t letting things just go back to normal right away.

You turned your head last minute so his lips landed on your cheek, grinning to yourself when he complained with a whiny noise. “Why can’t I kiss you?”

Thankfully you were saved by the bell. You heard his parents announce they were home, preventing you from having to entertain a childish Harry. Instead you had to get ready to meet them and ready to eat. “Looks like we’ve got to go.”

Dinner went surprisingly smoothly. You got on well with his family, specifically his brothers who refused to let up on the teasing of him. And it didn’t seem as though there was any awkwardness or bad blood between you. Although you told him he was going to have to make it up to you even if you weren’t outright mad at him, the two of you seemed okay. If it was all an act then it was good enough to fool everyone at the table including him.

He still felt like he was walking on glass around you though. Certain things he would have done before, like wrap his arms around you when you were beside him, now he felt like he needed to ask your permission in case you got angry. So when you and his family moved from the dinner table to the living room to talk for a while, he checked with you before slinging his arm around your shoulders so you could cuddle into his side. “This okay?” he asked.

You nodded, shuffling closer and resting your head on his shoulder. To anyone else in the room it was just a sweet gesture that they were sure the couple partcipated in all the time. But to Harry it was confirmation and to you it was an admittance that you meant what you said. Everything was okay between you. The simple, sweet affection continued for the remainder of the night, until everyone decided they were too exhausted to stay up any longer.

You followed him up the stairs with a sigh, feeling a wave of tiredness hit you that wasn’t there before. He heard your yawn and glanced over his shoulder to look at you. “Tired?”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around him from behind when you made it to the top of the stairs. His hands settled over yours on his stomach.

His mum startled you when she suddenly appeared behind you. “Harry, you can sleep on the floor,” his mum said. You tried to hold back your laughter as you watched his face delve into shock, a scoff falling past his lips as he made every excuse under the sun on why you should be able to sleep in the same bed. He tried telling her you were both adults and could be trusted but she wasn’t having it. Which resulted in the pouty boy tossing a couple pillows and blankets on his bedroom floor nearly an hour later while you made yourself comfortable in his bed.

He tried everything not to sleep there though. “Come on, Y/N/N, she’ll never have to know. I’ll get out and on the floor again before she wakes up.” His voice was whiny even though still a whisper. You didn’t believe him for a second, Harry slept like the dead, so you knew he’d never wake up in time and then you would both be in trouble.

He could barely see you in the dark but he could tell you were shaking your head at him. He thought you would have jumped at the chance for him to sneak into his bed for you to cuddle. “I think it’s a fair punishment considering what you did. Wouldn’t want your mother finding out about your bet would you?”

He gasped, shocked by your sudden blackmail. “You’re cold, Y/N Y/L/N.”

You chuckled, making yourself comfortable against the pillows of his bed, gazing down towards where he laid on the floor. You only felt a tiny bit bad about him having to sleep down there, it was his bed after all. He did kind of deserve it though. It was like his mum had a sixth sense and just somehow knew he’d done something wrong.

Although you didn’t plan on defying his mother’s wishes, not wishing to make a bad impression already when you had to continue to spend the remainder of the weekend with her, you just offered him your hand.

You waved it slightly so he’d see it in the dark, hanging over the side of the bed. “Harry,” you whispered. He acknowledged it by linking your fingers together, lifting his body upwards to place one last kiss to your skin, this time on your wrist. “Goodnight, my love.”

You smiled lazily as you pushed your head into his pillow, squeezing his hand in your grasp. Your voice sounded tired as you replied. “Night, H.”

»»——⍟——««

[ 16 weeks into the bet }

When you got back to campus, Harry spent everyday making it up to you like he said he would. He did everything he could possibly think of. He cooked for you, bought you flowers, took you on dates, basically waited on your hand and foot until you said those words he needed to hear. It took a couple weeks but he got there in the end. ‘I forgive you.’ It was bliss, for you at least.

All of it was all leading up to the four month mark, the final goal post of the bet.

Today was finally the day in which Harry would be collecting the last and largest portion of money from the bet. He overheard them all talking about how they wanted to make a big show of it, showing up to the place you were going out for dinner to give him the money rather than do it in private, like they had every other time, just to stir the pot so he had to tell you what was going on. It meant your plan would go how it was meant to, but he couldn’t help but think they really were dicks. How he hadn’t noticed before and done something about it.

He was at your dorm while you got ready, being the doting boyfriend he was helping you whenever you needed. He helped zip up your dress, fasten the clasp of your necklace and of course showered you in compliments while you got ready. He could barely even take his eyes off of you.

Before you left you were looking yourself over in the mirror one last time, seeing Harry approaching you from behind. “You’re sure this will work?” he asked, brushing your hair from over your shoulder so he could place a sweet kiss to your skin. You looked at him through your mirror, offering him a positive smile. “I’m sure. And think of all the things you could do with that money.”

He shook his head. “Think of all the things we could do with that money,” he corrected. You tried to stop the heat that rushed to your cheeks, but it was impossible. There were so many possibilities when it came down to it, and each sounded better than the last. A big fancy getaway with no one to bother you both? Sounded like heaven. “I’m sold.”

You didn’t waste anymore time, needing to make your reservation on time. If you waited any longer you would have certainly been late, with all your boyfriend’s distractions you took a little longer than you originally intended to but it didn’t matter in the end. You made it eventually.

You were at the restaurant for a while before they showed up, you nearly forgot about the whole plan, finding yourself caught up in Harry and everything about him. It was so easy to find yourself lost in the moment when it came to him. But then you saw the infuriating sight of smirking frat boys heading your way, the group of men claiming they just so happened to be getting dinner in the same restaurant, some freaky coincidence as they coined it.

It was time to put on the act of your lifetime, the two of you sharing a quick knowing look as the men’s demeanours changed slightly. They made simple, harmless conversation with the redhead at first, acting as though they weren’t here to attempt to ruin your relationship. They barely even acknowledged you while they were doing so. But then when they did finally turn to you it was only to be patronising. If you could have wiped the smug smiles off their faces then you would.

“So, what’s the occasion?” One of them asked.

You looked towards Harry affectionately, that was a real look, real feelings. “Four month anniversary, thought we’d do something special.”

They all dramatically awed. If this was any normal situation you probably would have felt incredibly embarrassed in that moment, frat boys just had a way of making people feel bad. But this wasn’t a normal situation by far, no you couldn’t care less what they thought.

You were still anticipating them to start off the drama, but it seemed as though they were relishing in every individual moment. You didn’t like how long they were dragging it out. Despite being with Harry for months now you hadn’t spoken to the men more than just a few words, but tonight they were really showing their true colours. They could lie their asses off and it shocked you a little bit, though it probably shouldn’t have considering they were the ones that made the dumb bet for their own entertainment in the first place.

“So, do you have anything you need to get off your chest, Harry?” one of them prompted. Oh, there it was, the inevitable beginning of what was sure to be a shit show to them. You offered Harry a sweet smile, playing the innocent act where you assumed it was something pleasant. “Here’s a couple hundred extra,” they mocked, tossing a few notes down on the table where your food was. Even if you knew everything, Harry was still angry at how amused they were. They truly were horrible people. “Just so we can watch this all go down.”

You forced your brows to furrow, acting as though you didn’t know what they meant. Harry feigned nerves, gulping loudly as his eyes flickered between all three of you. You leaned forward so you were closer to him, lowering your voice. “What are they talking about?”

He tried to tame the situation while you were still in the confines of the restaurant, faking a laugh that was supposed to make them go away. But it didn’t, so he offered to take you outside and explain. You had a confused expression on your face as you took his hand, following the redhead out of the building while his roommates trailed behind you. Their twisted smiles never left their faces. “What’s going on?” you asked as you stepped outside.

He may have already told you the story of the bet once, and that should have been harder to do then than now considering you already knew, but he couldn’t find the words. For some odd reason he was more scared telling you now than when he told you at his home. He had to make it realistic at the least.

He was still thinking when his roommates started urging him to hurry up. They apparently didn’t like that it was taking so long. He just began with the first thing that came to his mind.

“A few months back, I uh– was offered a lot of money to try and prove how long I could make a relationship last.” Hearing the words coming out of his mouth phrased like this was making him realise how awful it was. He knew it was bad, he told you he was aware it was a terrible thing to do to a person, but he was feeling an entire new wave of guilt right about now that he would feel responsible to make up for.

He could see your features contorting on your face. From confused to hurt, a range of things. Real or not it made his heart clench uncomfortably in his chest as he watched your face. “It just so happened that you were around when it happened, and you were picked as the uh.. target.”

You were quiet, for a little bit longer than he would have liked had he not been in on what was happening. But for the others they hated that you weren’t saying something, weren’t lashing out at him. They paid for a show and they weren’t currently getting one.

They decided to poke at the fire a bit more. “How does that make you feel, Y/N?” Amusement was all that could be heard when they spoke.

You scoffed, looking as though you only just tuned back into the situation, sudden rage plastered all over your face. “That’s all I was to you?” you asked, scrunching your nose in disgust. “A fucking bet.” You jabbed your finger into his chest. Not hard enough for it to hurt but hard enough for it to look realistic to your spectators. You were honestly having the time of your life, living out every teen movie you’d ever loved as a young girl.

You did all you could to bite back the smile threatening to take over your face, and it worked for the most part. Part of him was actually scared that this was the anger you’d been shoving down coming out to bite him, but if Harry looked hard enough he could clearly see the amusement in your eyes. Maybe you should drop your current academic major and go into acting or something. “At first, b-but it’s not like that now, Y/N.”

You shook your head, glancing between the men watching you. “Did they do this?” Your eyes were back on him now, a stray tear falling down your cheek that almost broke his resolve. He wanted nothing more than to wipe it away, to check this wasn’t hurting you. You watched him look over to them, one of them even daring to give him a mocking thumbs up.

“It was dumb, I know. But it was different from the second I talked to you, I was actually glad it gave me the opportunity to meet you.” He was being honest, but it was something you had already heard before. “I know I shouldn’t have agreed to it. It was horrible, b-but I love you.”

You shook your head, letting the tears fall. You had to ignore his confession or else you would have caved. Your heart was racing a mile a minute, he loved you, Harry loved you and yet you still had to pretend to hate him. “Maybe if you had any decency you would have thought about that in the first place.”

He called your name weakly. “Fuck you,” you stated, pushing on his chest harshly. That was enough for the group of men, thinking they had ruined the relationship you built enough and any credibility Harry had. They’d established the power their money gave them and they were happy to move on with their days now like nothing happened.

After they walked away you brushed away the tears from your cheeks, painting a smile on your face as you stared at Harry, reaching your hands out for him to welcome him into a hug. The tears weren’t entirely fake, they were at first but then he said he loved you and suddenly you were crying tears of joy. “Did you really mean that?” you asked.

You felt him nod into your hug, tightening his arms around you. “Of course I did. I-I don’t know if it’s too soon but, you-you’re something else Y/N Y/L/N.” He pressed his lips to the side of your head and you couldn’t stop how your lips were spreading into an even larger grin than they already were.

He didn’t know if you were against the idea, if he’d made things even slightly weird with what he said, he couldn’t see your face right now. So he just had to hope for the best.

“Harry,” you muttered, coaxing him to look down at you. When he did he felt his heart skip a beat, surely this meant you felt the same way. “I love you, too.”

He pulled you in to kiss him, your lips melting together with a passion you had never felt with him. This was new, this was the kiss of a man who outright loved you, one that you loved too. You were the first to pull back when he started getting a little handsy, giggling to yourself at the way he was trying to chase your lips so you didn’t go just yet.

You took a few steps back from him, holding his hands at arms length, looking at the man you just admitted out loud you loved. Four months ago you didn’t think you would have fallen for him like you did, or have been putting your heart on the line like this. “So, what d’you say we go spend some of that money. We could even get good champagne to celebrate,” you suggested. He grinned, tugging you that final distance into his arms so he could hold you. “My god, you’re perfect.”

harry holland taglist → @call-me-baby-gir1 @icyhollands @hollandbroz-n-haz @givebuckyhisplumsnow @wizkiddx @hopeless-romantic-baby @thehumanistsdiary @dummiesshort @itsbieberxholland @lillucyandthejets @bvttercupbby @captainamirica @annathesillyfriend @multixfandomwriter @hallecarey1 @avengers-hamiltrash @aayaissaa @edmundspevensea @lovehollandy12 @the-girl-in-the-chair @mcushvft @hogwartsmarvelmommy @elishi03 @delightfulmuffinclamauthor @safeplaceholland @peter-parkers-gf @ccosmic-illusion @kayasholland @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @wildholland @thollandgf

#harry holland #harry holland oneshot #frat!harry #harry holland imagines #harry holland imagine #harry holland fluff

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tomholland1996simp · 2 years ago

Note

Tom Holland sister blurb where she has a crush on Harrison and doesn’t like it when the boys are rude to him as a joke

Harrison || Holland sister

Y/n was sitting in her room playing with her dolls, she had been playing for over an hour now. She picked out cute outfits for each doll, trying to find the best one for her most favourite one. She was very occupied, focusing on nothing but her toys. Well that was until she heard voices from downstairs. Normally she would ignore them and continue to play, however she heard a certain voice that made her sprint down the stairs.

Y/n’s little feet ran down the stairs, carful not to fall over whilst doing so. She knew that voice very well, it being from a person she grew very close with that no one had expected. “Hwrrison!” She shouted, the male being in her full view now as he took his coat off, hanging it up.

Harrison eyes moved over to the young holland that adored him the most. He bent down his arms opening wide. “Y/nnn!” He said in the exact same excited tone that she used.

Once she crashed into his arms he picked her up, spinning her around making the five year old giggle. Y/n cuddled into him, wrapping her tiny legs around his body. “I missed you” She said like she usually would. Y/n would always miss Harrison, she would ask about him all the time to Tom or the other brothers.

“I missed you to my favourite Holland” he placed her down on the floor so he could greet the others, but she wouldn’t let go.

“Oi I heard that!” Harry said walking into the room with Tom who followed behind him. “Y/n let go of him so I can say hi at least” Tom chuckles as his little sister let go of his best friend, him greeting with a bro hug. Tom always wondered when her obsession with Harrison had happened, he even wondered why. Ever since y/n could talk or walk she always went to Harrison loving him more than her actual brothers.

“Hwrrison, I went on my bike ywsterday!” Y/n happily said, jumping up and down.

“Did you?!” Harrison said excited.

“Yes and Tommy helped me to pedal, he taught me what to do” You smiled at Tom. “Wow, that’s so cool. You need to show me one day” Harrison said walking into the kitchen following Tom who pulled out two beers and a juice for y/n.

They both moved into the living room, starting a conversation up as y/n quickly ran up the stairs, coming back down with her favourite blanket. She saw Harrison sitting directly across from Tom, so she climbed up onto the same sofa as him and snuggled into him with her blanket.

“Don’t you wanna cuddle with me?” Tom asked, jealousy bubbling up inside him.

“No, I want Hwrrison” She adverted her eyes to the tv, watching the program that was left on from earlier.

Y/n and the boys stayed in their potions, Harrison’s arm around the girl letting her snuggle into him. This wasn’t new to Harrison, no, he actually fount it quite cute the way his best friends sister would act around him. The way she would always call him off Toms phone or the way she would kiss his cheek when she said goodbye or even when she would help him play fight with the boys.

“Harrison shut up you div” Sam laughed, slapping the boy on the arm. It was later on and the boys were still drinking, just talking about random things with light music in the background.

“Hey! Dwnt hit him!” Y/n snapped suddenly, feeling the need to protect him. She rubbed his arm, which didn’t hurt at all, glaring at Sam who looked at her with certain eyes. “You okay?” The five year old turned her gaze to Haz.

All the boys were too confused to speak. Y/n had always hated it when the boys would joke around with Harrison, being mean to him even though he didn’t mind it as he did it back. Harrison just nodded his head, “I’m fine don’t worry” He smiled at the girl who nodded her head.

“Someone protective” Tom chuckles as Y/n kisses where Sam hit Haz’s arm.

“More like someone has a crush” Harry joined in, laughing at his little sister. He knew it was more than just being obsessed with him, she had to have a crush on him no?

“Watch this, Harrison your so ugly!” Harry joked watching the girls face twitch. “Harrison actually stinks, ewww” Tom laughed and Harrison hid his laugh as the girl sprung up.

“No he not! Your so rude, mummy said you should never say that to anywne! Haz is not ugly, he pretty. And smwll nicely” The girl smelt Harrison, earning a small chuckle from him. Y/n stood up walking over to Harry and Tom. “Your ugly and you stink, not him” She said angrily.

Harrison smirked, “Yeah your ugly and stink” He stuck his tongue out copying the little girls actions. Y/n walked back over to Harrison sitting in his lap to hug him, she kissed his cheek twice before looking at him. “Your pretty Hwrrison” She honestly said.

Harrison kissed her cheek, “Aww, your pretty too y/n” This made the little girl blush, getting off Harrison and giggling, hiding her face in her blanket.

“Y/n has a crush on Harrison!” Sam cheered.

Y/n hid her face in her blanket more embarrassed. She never thought of Harrison like a brother she always liked him, she wouldn’t let anyone be rude to him. “Shut up” The young holland said still hiding her face.

“It’s okay y/n. Sam is just stinks like feet” Harrison laughed and so did she.

“Well Harrison doesn’t shower” Sam called taking a swing of his beer, regretting after as his younger sister got off the sofa mad.

“YES HE DOES!” Y/n shouts bolting to her brother to attack him.

I literally hate this, it’s rushed sorry.

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violetlilysunshine · 3 years ago

Text

Inspiration - 18+

Husband Harry x Wife Reader

Summary: @harryhollandsgirlfriend: Ok but imagine hubby!Harry working on a sex scene for his new script and just being stuck so you help give him some inspiration.

WC: 2,595

Warnings: domestic Harry, pet names [darling, my love, love, ma'am, pretty girl, baby, babe], talk of oral [f receiving], marking [hickeys, scratching], talk of marriage [obvi, with hubby Harry], the tiniest dom/sub vibes [blink and you miss it], outercourse [m/f scissoring], multiple orgasms [f receiving], protected sex [p in v], hand holding, soft soft softness, riding, tiniest bit of overstimulation [m receiving], hit of aftercare [f receiving], it's hot then it's soft then it's hot then it’s soft

A/N: wasn’t going to post today, but you can thank Re for this

MASTERLIST

MINORS DNI

If you are choosing to continue reading below, you are saying that you are 18 years of age or older and therefore are consuming this content at your own risk. Warnings are listed above, so you can consume what you are comfortable with of course. If I find out that you are a minor consuming my 18+ content, you will be blocked and reported.

“Darling?” Harry calls from the bed.

“Yes, my love?” you struggle to answer, your hands in the way as you floss your teeth.

“Would you come help me for a minute?”

“Sure, just a second!” you call, finishing up and mouthwash-ing before joining him in the bedroom.

“What’du need?” you ask, voice laced with concern.

“I’m tryin’ to write this scene, and I don’t know it’s just not working, nothing is coming out right, and it’s not happening the way I want it. Would you maybe read it and help me out?” he asks, his voice getting quieter as he speaks, suddenly self conscious about the scene and asking for your help, “you don’t have to. I just thought you might have some ideas…”

“What kind of a scene is it?” you ask, taking off your jewelry and putting it in the box on the dresser.

The domesticity you’re displaying is something he’s loved since you got married, but he can’t help but chuckle at its contrast with what he’s working on.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “what’re you laughing at?” you ask with a small giggle.

“Nothing,” he answers quickly, “just watching you is funny.”

“I thought you loved watching me,” you say, remembering his eyes plastered to your bum a few nights ago, when he told you how much he enjoyed married life with you.

The things that happened after that confession were not domestic at all: your legs wrapped around his head, his lips devouring your clit, his hands wrapped around your thighs, the marks he left there still faint on your skin even now; then his member stretching you wide, his lips crashing against yours so you could taste yourself, his hips slapping your bum as he plowed into you from behind… As your brain went on this tangent, you started laughing as well.

Harry chuckled at you, “what’re you laughing at now?”

“Just thinking about the other night,” you mumbled, voice dropping as you started to get a little turned on, “you know, when we… uh… went at it,” you said.

“Yeah, that was fun,” he groaned, his hands reaching out for you, “we could always have a little more fun,” he murmured as you crawled across the bed and straddled his lap.

“I thought you needed help?” you mused, settling across his lap.

“Mm, it can wait, love,” he whispered, pulling you down by your hips to get some more stimulation from your core, “I could use a different kind of help right now.”

“That was terrible,” you giggle against his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to him. You swirl your hips swiftly, feeling the tent in his pajamas grow a little more.

“C’mon it was funny,” he manages to speak out through his low moan.

You giggle slightly, wiggling your hips again to pull another moan from him, “are you sure?” you ask, switching your tone, “I can wait, if you wanna get the scene done first.”

He grunts softly, his hands gripping your hips tightly, “no way, it can definitely wait.”

You laugh fully at that, bringing your right hand up to push the hair off of his forehead before meeting his lips in a heated kiss. Your hand slips down to the curls at his neck, tugging on them lightly. He moans into your mouth, his tongue snaking around yours slowly.

Your left hand finds his, twisting your fingers together as you rock against his member. His fingers play with the ring on your finger, twisting it around a few times. His heart burns a little warmer in his chest as he does so. You feel him smile against your lips and you smile back before pulling away.

You rest your forehead against his, “glad I married you,” you smile.

“Me too,” he whispers, “‘cus now we get to fuck whenever we want.”

You laugh at him again, “oh yeah, that’s the only reason,” you giggle, playing along with his horny antics tonight.

He flips you over, his right hand staying locked with yours, while his left holds him up to hover over you, “the only reason, eh?”

You moan at his sudden hint of dominance, “mm, maybe,” you giggle, continuing to tease him.

“Nothing else?” he asks, his lips inching closer and closer to yours.

“Nope,” you whisper, your lips brushing his as you speak.

He pins your hips down with his, grinding down into you with renewed energy, “thought about just goin’ to bed when I got stuck,” he groans, “was waitin’ for you to come out for quite a while, darling… kinda glad I didn’t do that though. Gotta give my girl the only thing she wants, apparently.”

You moan in response, his clothed length stroking you just right, “‘m glad you didn’t either,” you whisper, “gonna enjoy this.”

His tongue pokes out between his lips, wetting them slightly before whispering, “me too.”

He closes the distance, his mouth finally meeting yours. His tongue brushes your lower lip gently, and you’re parting your lips immediately. Your hand flies back to his hair, tugging gently on the curls. He lets his weight fall a little more, settling into you even further. A breathy pant escapes both of you at the feeling.

He sits up, releasing your hand for a moment to peel his shirt off. He, very clumsily, kicks off his bottoms as well, before filling the space between your legs again.

You run your fingers over his now exposed back; you can almost feel the marks you left on him a few days ago, a twinge tugs at your heart at the idea of them fading. It’s as if he knew what you were thinking when he whispers, “you can make some more, love.”

You giggle, pushing him away from you and sitting up as well, you press him over into his previous sitting position before encouraging him to lay down completely, “I’m on top tonight,” you command lightly.

“Yes, ma‘am,” he answers with a slight chuckle.

You shuffle to the side of him to remove your shorts, opting to leave your panties on for now, but pull your shirt over your head to reveal your bare torso.

Harry brings his hands to your breasts immediately, massaging them gently for a few seconds before settling his hands over your hips. His fingers play with the waistband of your panties, “take these off too,” he encourages.

“You didn’t take yours off,” you counter with a glint in your eye.

He shifts around quickly, peeling them from his body and settling back into his position, “better?”

“Much,” you answer, taking his length in your hand, and stroking him gently.

He moans loudly, his member twitching in your hand. You run your thumb over his slit, gathering the precum that’s settled there, pulling another moan from his throat.

“Condom?” you ask, not sure if he’s ready to go without just yet. You haven’t had the family talk, and now's not the time to start it, but you personally weren’t opposed to the whatever-happens-happens approach if that’s what he wants too.

“Yeah, there’s a new box in the bathroom,” he answers.

You release him gently, and he replaces your hand with his own quickly. He lays there, lazily tugging on his cock, while he watches you stand up to remove your panties and get a condom.

You drop all the discarded clothes in the chair in the corner before heading to the bathroom to get the condom, making a show of wiggling your hips for him. When you come back, you see his dopey-boyish smile, in complete contrast with his unashamed tugging on his cock, his eyes trained on your now bare mound. You can only assume they were on your ass before you turned around.

You giggle, “enjoy the show?” you ask, ripping the corner off the gold package in your hands.

“Oh yeah, darling, although…” he taunts, “the panty removal could’ve used a little more flair,” a tiny moan slips from his lips before he continues, “but I’m sure we can work on that.”

You roll your eyes playfully as you climb over your side of the bed and back to straddle him. You tug his hand away from his length, rolling the condom down his shaft quickly. When finished, you let his member rest heavy on his lower abdomen; you tangle your left fingers with his right again, before scooting up to sit over his member. You start to roll your hips against him, the head of his cock carding through your folds and bumping your clit deliciously. You start to move faster, your wetness seeping out of you and over his length, helping you glide easier as a result.

You moan loudly, leaning forward and placing your free hand on his chest, your nails digging into his skin as you attempt to steady yourself. Your head tips back on its own accord and Harry brings his free hand up to play with your breasts again.

He moans when you let your weight go a little, lost in pleasure as you slip across him. He hasn’t even been inside you yet and you’re already starting to fall apart.

You push against him faster, your nails leaving crescent shaped marks on his skin, mostly using your arms to pull yourself back and forth. You throw your head back, adding a little bounce to your movements to help yourself climb to the edge.

“C’mon, pretty girl, cum for me,” he groans, trying to stave off his own rapidly building orgasm, “you can do it.”

You moan, dropping your head forward again as you lose your weight even more. Your legs start to shake from being tensed for so long as you linger right on the edge.

“Harry,” you moan breathlessly, trying to hold onto the feeling just a bit longer.

He moans at the sound of you whimpering his name, more blood rushing straight to his cock: “you can do it,” he encourages again, his free hand moving to your hip helping to pull you along, “you’re so close, just let go,” he whispers, “I’ve got you.”

You cum loudly, his words pushing you over the edge. You gradually slow your hips to a stop, the tip of his cock resting right against your clit. You look down at him again, this time wearing your own dopey smile. His grins at you sheepishly playing with your ring again.

You take your hand off his chest, watching the small red indents you leave in its wake form for just a second before you raise your hips and pick up his member.

You rub around it a few times, spreading your wetness down his shaft as evenly as you can.

You guide his tip to your entrance, passing it over your folds a couple of times before you start to sink down.

His mouth drops into an “O” as soon as he breeches your opening.

You sink slowly, moans, groans, and whines passing between the two of you before you settle down completely flush against him.

You can feel him poking at your guts, stretching you out as he’s deeper than he’s ever been before. His other hand finds yours, tangling those fingers together as well. He passes two quick squeezes to both of your hands, causing you to flutter your eyes open - you don’t even remember closing them.

“Hi,” he whispers when your eyes find his.

“Hi,” you answer, slightly breathless.

He chuckles, bringing one hand of yours to his lips and pressing a few small kisses to your skin.

You can’t help but smile, falling more in love with him.

He pulls your hand away from his mouth, “I love you,” he whispers, sending you a smile.

“I love you too,” you answer, sharing a quick moment of eye contact before starting to bounce on him shallowly.

He moans at your sudden movements, his eyes closing for a long blink. You press your weight into his hands, supporting yourself so you can bounce higher and faster.

You whimper as his tip graces your g-spot sending you embarrassingly close to your second orgasm.

He groans when your hands squeeze his as you lean forward. You bring your lips to his neck, pressing a few kisses to various places before sucking a nice purple marking into his sweet spot.

That’ll be fun to explain to Tom tomorrow, he thinks, but you’re quick to pull him back to reality, a loud moan rumbling through his throat as you clench around him; he can feel your orgasm is getting close.

“God, darling, don’t stop,” he grunts in your ear, “getting so close.”

“Me too,” you whisper back, whining in his ear as you rush to the edge.

“Love those sounds you make,” he moans, trying to focus on something other than the blood rushing to his cock.

You moan again, this time the vibration rattling his throat.

He falls over the edge quickly, spilling his load into the condom, and grunting as you bounce to the finish line yourself.

“C’mon, baby, you can do it,” he encourages again, “cum all over my cock, you’re right there.”

You fall over the edge, your bouncing coming to a complete stop, replaced with tight circles of your hips instead, to ride through both of your orgasms.

Harry hisses at the sensitivity coursing through his veins, but he does nothing to stop you. He wants the pleasure to last as long as it can for you, even if it is just a little too much for him.

You finally stop, opening your eyes to find his smile again - one you paint back to him easily.

“That was good,” he says, voice low and raspy.

“Yeah,” you giggle, “real good.”

You slowly inch off of him, sliding over to your side of the bed to get under the covers.

“Wait, darling, wait,” he scolds you lightly, “gotta clean up first, we just put fresh sheets on the bed.”

You groan, wanting nothing more than to curl up into his side under the covers, “god how do you switch it on and off like that?”

“Switch what on and off?” he asks, tipping his head to the side like a puppy.

You let out a heavy breath and a small chuckle, “the domesticity. Here I am, blissed out and covered in cum, and you’re worried about the bloody sheets.”

He chuckles as he steps off the bed, padding to the bathroom, removing the condom, and cleaning himself up a bit, before bringing back a wet cloth to clean you up as well. He wipes between your legs gently and helps you slip into some clean panties and one of his old worn out t-shirts.

“Now you can get under,” he says gently, pulling back the blanket to let you in.

He slips on clean boxers and some gym shorts before joining you. You curl into his side effortlessly, his arm wrapping around your shoulder as your head rests on his chest.

You feel his deep breathing, helping to lull you to sleep. Your brain almost turns off before you remember something.

“Wait,” you say quickly, “what did you need help with?”

He chuckles lowly, the rumbles vibrating against your skin, “I got all the help I need, darling.”

You laugh at him, “no, babe, with the other thing, the scene you were gonna ask me about.”

He chuckles again, stalling for a second before glancing down at your face: “was writing a sex scene, darling,” he answers, “but I’ve got quite a bit of inspiration now.”

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