#harry holland oneshot

[pankowcrumbs]

Tour X Harry Holland

MasterList

The boardroom at Netflix was a sleek, modern space glass walls, polished oak table, and an air of professionalism that always made me sit up a little straighter. I wasn’t new to meetings like this, but this one mattered more than any record deal or festival slot I’d ever secured.

I was here to pitch my vision for my tour documentary.

My last album had changed everything. Sold-out arenas, millions of streams, a fanbase that felt more like a community. It was only natural to document the journey the highs, the lows, the moments backstage when everything felt too overwhelming or too euphoric to put into words.

“This all sounds brilliant,” one of the executives, a woman named Laura, said as she skimmed through the pitch deck. “A deeply personal, behind-the-scenes look at your life on tour. Fans will love it.”

I nodded, gripping the edge of my chair. “That’s exactly what I want. Something raw, real, nothing too polished or commercialised.”

Laura smiled. “We can certainly make that happen. We have a list of accomplished directors who specialise in music documentaries. We’ll...”

I cut in before she could finish. “Actually, I already know who I want to direct it.”

The room stilled slightly, as if I had just thrown a spanner in the works.

I took a steadying breath. “I want Harry Holland.”

A pause. A few exchanged glances. I could tell they recognised the surname, but not necessarily why I had chosen him.

The executive seated across from me, James, frowned slightly. “Harry Holland… as in Tom Holland’s brother?”

I nodded. “Yes. But I’m not picking him because of that. I’ve seen his work, his short films. He has a brilliant eye for storytelling he captures moments in a way that feels intimate yet cinematic. That’s exactly what I want for this documentary.”

Laura seemed intrigued. “How do you know him?”

I hesitated for half a second. “I actually know Tom, and through him, I saw some of Harry’s work. I loved it.”

James leaned back in his chair, considering. “Has he directed a documentary before?”

“Not on this scale, no,” I admitted. “But I don’t think that matters. He understands how to tell a story without forcing it. He’s talented, and I trust him with this.”

Another pause.

Then, Laura spoke again. “Alright. If he’s interested, we’d love to meet him.”

Relief flooded me. “Great. I’ll bring him in for the next meeting.”

I was a little nervous before Harry arrived.

I had only met him once before, in passing, when I’d bumped into Tom at a London event. We had barely exchanged words, but I had already admired his work long before that. I hoped he’d say yes to this.

The door to the boardroom opened, and there he was Harry Holland, dressed in a navy jumper and dark jeans, looking both calm and slightly surprised to be here.

His eyes flicked to mine, curiosity dancing behind them. “Hi.”

I smiled. “Glad you could make it.”

He took a seat beside me as Laura and James greeted him warmly. They asked about his background, his filmmaking style, his vision. He answered with quiet confidence, passion shining through with every word.

“I don’t want this to feel like just another concert film,” he explained. “Y/N’s music is personal, so this documentary should reflect that. It needs to feel like we’re stepping into her world not just the tour, but the life surrounding it.”

I couldn’t help but smile as he spoke. That was exactly what I wanted.

Laura and James exchanged glances again, this time more impressed than hesitant.

“Well,” Laura finally said, “it seems like Y/N was right about you.”

Harry turned to me, brow raised slightly. “You fought for me to direct this?”

I nodded. “Of course. I couldn’t imagine anyone else.”

Something passed between us then something unspoken but warm.

And then, just like that, it was settled. Harry Holland was directing my documentary.

From the moment Harry stepped onto the tour bus, camera in hand, everything changed.

He blended into the chaos seamlessly, never intrusive but always present. He captured the exhaustion after a long set, the adrenaline before stepping on stage, the quiet moments in between when I questioned everything.

But somewhere along the way, something shifted.

He wasn’t just the director anymore. He became the person I sought out when the noise got too loud. The person who made me laugh when I was too tired to function. The person who saw me not just the singer, not just the performer, but me.

One night, after a show in Paris, I found him sitting on the edge of the stage, camera resting beside him.

“Any good footage tonight?” I asked, plopping down beside him.

He nodded, glancing at me. “Always.”

There was a comfortable silence before he spoke again.

“You know, I’ve never been part of something like this before. It’s… different. But in the best way.”

I smiled. “You mean absolute chaos?”

He laughed. “That too. But mostly, I mean you. Watching you do what you love it’s inspiring.”

I swallowed, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. “I could say the same about you.”

He held my gaze for a moment, and for the first time since this started, I wondered if maybe just maybe there was something more between us than just music and film.

It’s a bit strange, isn’t it? The way someone can be in your life, right there beside you for months and slowly become so important to you so gradually.

Harry's been capturing every high and low of my experience the adrenaline-filled rehearsals, the chaos of soundchecks, and all the off time the dinners out the endless travelling. He’s with me all the time.

One afternoon, before a performance in Berlin, before the concert started, Harry was filming a quick behind-the-scenes segment, capturing the nerves and excitement of the crew as we prepared for the night’s performance.

I’ve seen the way he holds the camera, the way he steps back to get the perfect angle. But this time, it wasn’t about the documentary. It was something else.

“Can I get one of those smiles again?” he asked, his voice light, but there was something beneath it. “The one where you look like you’re about to tell me off for standing too close.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at my lips. “You mean the one where you get too close to my personal space and act like you don’t know it?”

Harry chuckled, his eyes bright behind the camera. “That’s the one.”

He didn’t even need to see my face up close to know it was genuine. The way he spoke made me feel like I’d just shared a secret with him, even though I hadn't said a word. There was something effortlessly disarming about Harry. And when I realised it, I found myself starting to look forward to his quiet presence.

“Alright, ready?” Harry asked the next day as I stretched before the show.

I nodded, looking up at him from the edge of the stage. I don’t know if it was the way his camera clicked or the way he always seemed to be just a little bit more attentive when it came to me, but it was starting to feel like the documentary was less about my music and more about us.

“Are you sure I look alright?” I asked, nervously adjusting the strap on my dress.

“Perfect as always,” he said, his gaze flicking up to mine briefly. He didn’t say much, but the way he looked at me made it feel like the world outside that moment was irrelevant. He made me feel seen in a way that was different than the audience cheering or the flashing lights more personal, more intimate.

As always, I caught his eye.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" I teased, walking up to him while the crew worked behind us. "You're looking at me like I'm about to break into song or something."

He smirked, the camera still in his hands, but this time, it was angled down slightly, almost as if he were lost in thought. "I was just thinking how lucky I am to be filming you. You make this whole tour look easy, but I know it's not. You really give it your all."

I tried to shrug it off, trying to laugh it off with my usual lightness. But something in the way he said it made my heart skip. He didn’t just think I was a good performer he saw the work, the dedication. It wasn’t just a compliment; it was the kind of thing that made me feel understood.

“Thank you,” I said, genuinely this time.

Harry didn’t answer right away. He just nodded, but I could see the way his eyes softened for just a fraction of a second. It was the sort of thing that could have been missed by anyone else, but I saw it. And it made my stomach twist in a way I wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

With the show everything went flawlessly. The crowd was electric, and I could feel their energy pulsing through me with every note I sang. But as I stood there on stage, singing my heart out, I couldn’t help but feel Harry’s gaze on me, even though I knew he was behind the camera, capturing every moment.

There was something about knowing he was watching me that made me feel… seen, in a way that was different than the thousands of people in the audience. It was like he was waiting for the perfect moment, the perfect shot, but all the while, I could tell that it wasn’t just about the documentary anymore. He was looking at me. Really looking at me.

After the performance, I was exhausted but elated. As always, I made my way to the back to cool off and get ready for the next part of the night. Harry was there, of course, camera slung over his shoulder, his attention on the footage he was reviewing.

“Hey,” I said softly, walking over to him. “How was it?”

He looked up, his face breaking into a grin. “You were amazing, as usual.”

I smiled, feeling my cheeks warm under his gaze. “Thanks. You’re not too bad behind that camera either.”

Harry chuckled, and for a brief moment, his focus shifted away from the footage and back to me. His gaze softened. “You really know how to make everything look effortless.”

I tilted my head, considering his words carefully. “You know, it’s funny,” I said, half-serious, half-playful. “Everyone always tells me I make it look easy, but no one ever talks about how hard it is to keep up with you behind the camera.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? I didn’t realise I was that hard to keep up with.”

“Well,” I said with a teasing smile, “you’re always so serious. I’m just trying to get a laugh out of you.”

“I’m not that serious,” Harry shot back with a wink. “I just like to capture the best moments. And you? You’re full of them.”

His voice had dropped a little, quieter now, and I could feel the sincerity in it. And in that moment, it hit me I wasn’t just hearing the words anymore. I was feeling them.

I stepped closer, unable to help the smile that tugged at my lips. “Maybe you’ve been looking for the wrong kind of shot all along.”

Harry’s expression faltered for a moment, and I could see the shift in his eyes. It was subtle, but it was there. He took a step towards me, lowering the camera in his hands, and his voice was almost a whisper as he replied, “And what kind of shot do you think I should be looking for?”

I didn’t know what to say. My heart was racing, and suddenly, it felt like the room was too small for both of us, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to step away. Something between us was changing, shifting. I could see it in the way Harry looked at me, the way his eyes stayed on me longer than necessary, like he was trying to say something that wasn’t coming out through words.

“I think,” I said softly, my voice shaky, “you’ve been filming the wrong kind of moments. Maybe you need to stop looking through the lens and just… look at me for once.”

There was a beat of silence before Harry took a slow step closer, his breath warm against my skin. He didn’t say anything at first, but his gaze was unwavering. And then, just as my heart was about to leap out of my chest, he leaned in, closing the space between us, his lips hovering just inches from mine.

“Is this the moment?” he asked quietly, his breath brushing my lips.

I nodded, unable to speak, before he kissed me. It was soft, hesitant at first, as if we were both testing the waters. But as his hand gently cupped my face, pulling me closer, the kiss deepened. And in that moment, everything fell into place. It wasn’t just about the tour, the documentary, or the audience anymore. It was just the two of us, in this perfect moment.

When he pulled back, his forehead resting against mine, I whispered, “Maybe you don’t need a camera to capture the best moments after all.”

Harry smiled, his eyes twinkling with something more than just admiration now. “Maybe you’re right.”

Years later, the documentary had become more than just a film. It was a love letter to music, to the journey, to us.

Harry and I had built a life together, one where passion and love intertwined effortlessly.

I was curled up on the sofa in our London flat, our two-year-old daughter, Lily, fast asleep on my chest. Harry was next to me, his arm draped over the back of the couch, absentmindedly playing with my hair.

The TV was playing footage from the documentary one of the early scenes, where I was laughing at something off-camera.

“You know,” Harry murmured, “I think that was the moment I knew.”

I turned to him. “Knew what?”

He smiled, that same soft, knowing smile I had fallen in love with. “That I was in trouble. That this ” he gestured between us, “wasn’t just about work. That I’d end up loving you.”

He chuckled. “Best decision I ever made.”

I leaned my head against his shoulder, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Mine too.”

Lily stirred slightly, and we both looked down at her, the perfect little piece of our love story.

Harry exhaled softly, pulling us both closer. “Through my lens, I saw everything. But loving you? That was the best part.”

I smiled, letting the warmth of his words settle deep in my heart.

[ursemma]

Fandoms I write for:

Requests are open!!

Gossip girl

Nate Archibald , and Chuck bass.

Harry Potter

Harry Potter, Weasley twins, Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy, Lorenzo berkshire, Theodore nott , James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin

Maxton hall

James Beaufort

Spiderman

Peter Parker

Any Celebrity!

And lastly

Formula 1

Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, Carlos Saiz, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri and Lewis Hamilton

Things i won't write for

Daddy/mommy kink

Foot fetish

Degradation kink

Vomit/period/piss/spit kink

Age gap more than 4 yrs

Trans reader or character

Rap€/ assault/ molestation

Knife play/gun play

[sumsumstrashbin]

⋆⭒˚ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐩 ⋆⭒˚

𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭! 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬.

𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠!

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐞𝐫𝐚:

𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤

𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧

𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤

𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐞

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬:

𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

[bunnyweasley23]

If you have Wattpad please read my latest MCU x Harry Potter crossover!!!

This book is for you if you like:

-Dumbledore Slander

-Wolfstar as parents

-Nice!Snape (sort of)

-Nice!Draco

-Black OC!

-Mom!Natasha

-The Avengers as basically one big happy family!

-Fred, Loki, Pietro, Tony etc NOT *💀🪦*

-Ron x OC

Small Excerpt from a random Chapter below:

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.

.

.

"Excuse me, Miss Romanoff have you seen the Weasley twins?"Umbrige asked sweetly, considering she's been trying to get back on my good side for the past week and a half.

"Sorry, haven't seen them since the last time I saw them." I said with a smile before taking a drink on my hot chocolate and looking down at my phone when I saw Steve got another word.

"And when was that?"Umbrigde asked confused.

"When was what?"I asked with mock confusion as I looked up at her.

"The last time you saw them of course."Umbrige said becoming slightly irritated.

"Saw who?" I asked innocently.

"Fred and George Weasley."Umbrige said firmly an I pretended to think about it for a moment. Like I didn't see them walk past me with Ron and Draco five minutes ago, carrying empty glitter containers and prank kits.

"Can't say those names ring any bells I'm afraid. However if you're looking for the Weasley twins they went that way." I mumbled looking down at my phone.

"Which way? Left or right?"Umbrigde asked frantically looking around.

"I don't know, that's what I'm asking you. Right or wrong? Up or down, you know? Do you think I'll grow more, I've recently become very insecure about my height. I feel like I'm not tall enough? But what if I'm too tall? I'm 5'9 but that could mean anything. Did you know brown cows don't make chocolate milk? Do you think the sky knows it's blue? Why do people have limbs? I'll tell you why, because of evaluation! Not to be confused with revolutions because those are bad. Speaking of revolutions, have you ever owned a unicorn? I've been thinking of starting a butterfly farm but I can't because I won't have time to take them for walks everyday. Do you think cats know that they're cat-" I asked rambling various nonsense questions with a look of concern painted on my face.

"That's enough! I'll find them myself!" Umbrigde yelled cutting me off.

[theaawalker]

His Little Lamb [ HARRY OSBORN ]

chapter II. friends

Pairing: Harry Osborn x Demetra Jones Series: 0 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 Song Inspo: Perfect by One Direction Word Count: 1,001 Summary: Demetria Jones is your classic model citizen. Smart, helpful, organized, sophisticated, and above all innocent. But that changes when she gets a new boss, Harry Osborn. She's not looking for trouble, but that might be what she's in for. Unless, maybe, she can change Harry... that is, if he doesn't change her first. Warnings: mentions of workplace abuse, forced proximity Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)

I did as Harry... I mean... Mr. Osborn requested and documented every file on the list. I hadn't seen him since his departure at the board meeting yesterday. Nevertheless, I wanted to make sure I actually did my job. So I stopped by his office and dropped off said paperwork. Much to my annoyance, he wasn't in there. It was his second day as CEO of OsCorp and he hadn't even bothered to show up.

        This was gonna be a long day.

        I marched out of his office to the elevators and began to dial Menken. He was in charge whenever Norman was gone, which usually meant an occurrence of verbal harassment for me. I knew with Harry's absence I couldn't get any work done because I had no further orders. I considered following my usual orders, but those existed under Norman Osborn's authority. Now that his son was in charge, I had no sense of direction. Which was ironically proven when I then bumped into one of the elevator doors.

        I pushed the bottom button and put the phone to my ear. As I waited for the doors to open, I listened to my phone ring before going to voicemail. So I hung up and proceeded to dial again as the doors finally opened and I boarded. Once again it rang and there was no answer. I groaned, removing the phone from my ear. Then suddenly...

        "Hi again!" Said a voice from behind me, making me jump. I covered my mouth mid-scream and quickly spun around to see the source. Low and behold, it was Harry Osborn. "I'm sorry." We both apologized.

        "I didn't mean to scare you." He spoke first, extending his hand to me worrisomely.

        "No, no. It's fine." I gasped as I clutched my heart. "My fault. I didn't see you."

        He watched me catch my breath, his eyes a sparkly turquoise from the luminous rooms behind the elevator glass. "I'm... I'm Harry Osborn." He introduced himself, putting a hand on his chest. 

        "Yeah, I know who you are." I cleared my throat, my voice now professional. "I was in the board meeting."

        "That's right, you were the one I promoted." Harry beamed as he recalled the memory.

        I chuckled. "Oh, yeah. Like you were serious." I waved him off.

        "Actually, yes." He stated rather authentically. I stared at his face and sure enough it read seriousness. And here I was trying to get ahold of Menken because I thought he was still my superior. Harry must've seen the shock in my face because he began to smirk. I suppose he was amused by the impact of his own power.

        "What's your name again?" He asked, nodding to me.

        "Demetria. Demetria Jones." I lifted my head as I reintroduced myself.

        "Demetria..." My name flew out of his mouth with an unnecessary softness. Harry tilted his head and bit his lower lip, still smirking. I gulped as I stared at its pinkness under his teeth, not sure what else to do. "Tell me, Demetria." He continued. "What's a little lamb like you doing in a wolf den like OsCorp."

        I'd be lying if I said I wasn't intimidated by the question. But.. did he seriously just call me a 'little lamb'?

        "Uhhh, well, for one, I enjoy my work here. I was a huge fan of your father's. I can appreciate a business that's working to make the world a better place. And, uh, I good salary never hurt anyone." I joked, shrugging.

        Harry just stood there and listened, not uttering a word. And once I was done, he nodded. "So you were a fan of my father? Well, that makes one of us." I couldn't tell if he was joking or not, so I didn't say anything. For a moment, both of us were silent.

        Then Harry leaned off the wall and stepped towards me. We were now standing face-to-face a foot apart. He wasn't that much taller than me, perhaps an inch or two. However, height-wise our eyes actually aligned perfectly. That being said, I still felt his presence hovering over me. "Since I'm your boss now, we should keep in contact." He gestured to my phone.

        I could feel his warm breath on me as he spoke, and I wondered if he could feel mine. "Um, sure." I responded before punching in his number as he recited it to me. Once he was done, I hit save to make it official.

        "I look forward to working you, Demetria." Harry said, making my fingers freeze. I gazed away from my screen and looked at him. I wasn't sure if he had gotten closer, but it certainly felt like he did. He wore a blank expression with his mouth hanging slightly agape. His marble eyes stared into mine, and mine into his. Neither one of us said anything, which was strangely comforting. We stayed like that for what seemed like awhile.

        Suddenly, the elevator dinged and the doors opened, making us break eye contact. In an instant, what was once comfortable had now become awkward. We exchanged embarrassed glances as Harry slowly backed up and I gathered myself to leave. "Nice seeing you, Mr. Osborn." I gave an awkward smile and stepped out.

        "Call me Harry." He raised an eyebrow, smirking suggestively. "We're friends now, aren't we?" 

        Then, as if on cue, the doors closed, leaving me completely stunned and confused. I wasn't quite sure of what had just happened, but I didn't have time to process it because my phone started to ring. Without reading the ID, thoughtlessly I answered it. 

        "Hello? Who is this?" Menken huffed into the phone.

        "...Demetria Jones," I replied, my eyes glued to the elevator.

        "Oh." He groaned before pausing. "...Well, what do you want?"

        With a big smile and a bolt of realization, I told him exactly what I wanted. "Kiss my *ss!"

• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •

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[marvelgirlstories]

Masterlist

George Weasley

Stucky

Tom Holland and Family

Harry Potter - nothing yet

Marvel

Marvel cast - nothing yet

Fic Recs

[eyneyke]

Main Masterlist & AO3 acc & other links

ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ᴀɴ ᴏᴘᴇɴ Asᴋ Bᴏx ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰɪʟᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʜᴇsɪᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ ᴏʀ sᴇɴᴅ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛs (I ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴡ ᴏɴᴇ-sʜᴏᴛs ʙᴜᴛ I ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ɪɴsᴘɪʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ)

AO3 acc

F1:

Max Verstappen

A Calm to my Storm -FINISHED!

- series (Max Verstappen x OC!Kjellberg, ft. Pewds, Jacksepticeye and others from F1 world + media and fans online) What if Max was secretly dating Pewdiepie's genius little brother that works as a Red Bull engineer

A Calm After Us -WORK IN PROGRESS

- part 2 series of ''A Calm to my Storm'' Follows right after the first series; it's finally the winter break and Max and Sam navigate their lives without the crazy of an ongoing season, some insecurities, meeting families and more

Medusa -ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ɴ̶ᴏ̶ᴛ̶ sᴏ sᴏᴏɴ!

- series (Max Verstappen x OC!Reikkonen, Max Verstappen & Christian Horner, Max Verstappen & the grid) Kimi joins forces with Sebastian to find out who is his eldest kid, and Sebastian's godchild, is dating in secret. Spoiler: it's Max. But when a tragedy hits England in the middle of the season, just before the Silverstone weekend, Max reveals something about his past that shocks the world. Warnings: past SA's, mentions of child molesting

Lewis Hamilton

Superhero Surprise -ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ sᴏᴏɴ!

- oneshot probably (Lewis Hamilton x OC!Holland, Lewis Hamilton & Max Verstappen & OC!Holland, ft. Esteban Ocon) Lweis Hamilton decides to join grid's secret santa again and pulls out a paper with Esteban's name on it! What should he get him?? His girlfriend helps him :)

Oscar Piastri

Secret Romance -ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ sᴏᴏɴ!

- SMAU (Oscar Piastri x girlfriend, Oscar Piastri & Lando Norris) Lando and Oscar are doing a radio interview after Oscar's first season and Oscar reveals he has a long term girlfriend and Lando in his typical fashion freaks out

Other fics:

Series (POSTED ON AO3): Revelations: Hidden Truths, Veiled Friendships and Secret Relationships (AO3 link) -ONGOING!

Criminal Minds; Marvel, Harry Potter, The Leverage OC & Spencer Reid

[panandinpain0]

Me When I Schedule Things

Expect these oneshots/requests to be posted by:

Friday September 22:

Hermione Granger x Female!Slytherin!Reader

Hermione x Reader (Currently Planning, so details are TBD)

Hermione Granger x Female!Slytherin!Reader (Yes, another one)

Ron Weasley x Male!Ravenclaw!Granger!Reader (Another!)

Ron Weasley x Male!Ravenclaw!Granger!Reader (Teehee :3)

Saturday September 23:

Draco Malfoy x Male!Reader

Blaise Zabini x Male!Reader (Connected to my Ron series)

Harry Potter x GN!Reader

Ron Weasley x Male!Reader (seperate from series)

Luna Lovegood x Male!Reader

Sunday September 24:

Cedric Diggory x Male!Reader

Edward Cullen x Female!Reader

Jasper Cullen x Male!Reader

Steve Harrington x Male!Reader

Barbara Holland x Male!Reader (Platonic <3)

I'm hoping to do this more often, or at least every other week. I really need to clear out my inbox 😅

WRITER'S BLOCK CAN NEVER HOLD ME BACK

(I may fall a little short of these lists, but I dream big, don't fight me.)

-Author Max <3

[angeli-marco-writes]

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."

[farfromharry]

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

[violetlilysunshine]

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.”

TAGLIST: @peachy-parker @a-daydreamers-days @spider-barnes @hogwartsmarvelmommy @tulipholland @harryhollandsgirlfriend @cupids-crystals @sunwardsss @bvttercupbby @mcushvft @elishi03 @golden-hoax @mistakenpersonn @cedricdiggorysimpp @multixfandomwriter @hamiltonstann @wildxwidow @petesrparker @delightfulmuffinclamauthor

[pankowcrumbs]

Harry Holland request. Reader donating blood but while doing that they start getting light headed and is near to passing out while Harry is trying his hardest to keep them awake and is just SHOOK. Pls. And Tom catches reader before she faints?

🩵 Thanks for requesting

MasterList

I really thought I’d be fine.

People donate blood all the time. It’s a good thing to do, it helps people, and honestly, I’d been meaning to do it for ages. So when Harry mentioned he was going and asked if I wanted to come along, I said yes without thinking twice. I should’ve thought twice.

Now, lying back in the reclining chair, I feel like I’ve been hit by a freight train made of dizziness and nausea. My vision is going all fuzzy at the edges, and my hands feel like someone replaced my blood with ice water.

“You alright, love?” Harry’s voice cuts through the static in my ears. He’s kneeling beside me, worry etched deep across his face.

“Mhm,” I mumble, blinking rapidly. “Just... a bit light-headed.”

“You’re white as a sheet.” He reaches up, brushing the hair off my damp forehead, his touch gentle. “You’re scaring the hell out of me.”

I try to smile, to say something witty like “Oh good, I was going for ghost chic,” but my lips won’t cooperate. My head lolls slightly to the side.

“Y/N?” Harry’s voice sharpens. “Hey...hey, stay with me, alright?”

Everything is spinning now, the room tipping like a boat in a storm. I feel cold, then hot, then cold again.

“I...Harry, I don’t feel…” My sentence trails off. I can’t finish it.

That’s when I feel someone’s arms around me, strong and steady.

“I’ve got her!” another voice says Tom. “She’s fainting.”

I don’t even remember seeing him arrive. I think I mumble something like “Sorry,” but it comes out slurred.

“Hey, no, no Y/N, come on,” Harry pleads. He’s crouched beside Tom now, his hand still on mine. “Look at me. Just keep looking at me, yeah?”

I force my eyes open. His face swims into view soft curls falling into his eyes, panic in every line of his expression.

“You’re alright,” he says, like saying it will make it true. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

“I’m so dramatic,” I whisper weakly, trying to laugh.

Harry actually lets out a breathy chuckle, even as his eyes shine with worry. “You really are. But you’re my kind of dramatic.”

Tom eases me gently into a lying position, propping my legs up with a cushion the nurse brings over.

“You just gave a bit too much of your superhero blood,” he teases lightly, trying to lift the tension. “Next time, juice first.”

Eventually, the room steadies. My heart slows. Harry hasn’t moved from my side.

“Still with us?” he murmurs.

“Barely,” I say, voice hoarse.

He grins, brushing a kiss to the back of my hand. “That’s all I need.”

[orbitganymede]

Water Under the Bridge

traitor part 2

a/n: so i don’t know what happened, I posted this like 2 weeks ago and i guess it deleted itself? anyways here it is. sorry guys :)

The days had grown longer, her constant inner turmoil causing the minutes and hours to feel like an eternity. It was like her heart had been stolen from her chest, she felt emotionless and completely overcome with feeling at the same time. She thought time would heal her broken self, that maybe she’d be able to forget what how cologne smelt like or the password to his phone. But she was proving to be very wrong.

And if anyone asked, she did everything after the break up out of pure impulsivity, she was a loose cannon. And yeah, she might have drank too much, spurred on by her own self hatred and the pity looks the bartender was sending her. Calling her ex boyfriends best friend was probably the worst thing she could have done, she’ll admit that, but honestly she kinda lived the ‘fuck it’ lifestyle now.

Apparently that lifestyle contains kissing Harrison because she was heart broken and sad. She didn’t mean to, his eyes were just so pretty and his shirt looked earily similar to the one she used to steal from Tom all the time. It was short lived, Harrison lectured her on how wrong it was and how she needed to sober up. She had just rolled her eyes, which of course were accompanied by a string of a little too harsh words, ones she would no doubt apologize for later.

But when she had woken, Harrison wasn’t with her, she was left to spend her morning nursing her hangover with a gallon of water and an embarrassing amount of tylenol.

She had sent a text to Harrison later the afternoon, thanking him for picking her up and apologizing for ambushing him with, what she would guess, was the worst kiss of their lives.

She didn’t have feeling for him, she wasn’t ready to date after her previously failed relationship with the man she thought she would spend the rest of her life with. But of course Tom didn’t know that after he saw a text from his ex lover on his best friends phone that said something about a kiss.

Tom was angry to say the least, so angry that he may have snooped through Harrison’s phone to find where Y/N now lived. It was embarrassing to say the least, luckily Harrison always had his location on, making it just a little too easy for Tom to find her.

Now here he stands, staring at her from across her living room. He can’t help but notice all the little things, like her favorite vanilla candle that was like a monthly bill and her unruly pile of shoes by her front door that always used to give him a headache.

He doesn’t know why he’s here, they’ve been broken up for months, she can kiss who she wants. Hell, Tom had a whole relationship and breakup between the time they were over and now. He had no right to lecture her or throw a tantrum when he had been the one who cheated.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could muster.

The words hit her like a ton of bricks, she was frozen for a split second before she gained back her composure. She scoffed, “Get out Tom. I’m not in the mood to hear it.” But he made no move towards the door.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Tom hoped this was the closure they were looking for. “We were fighting so much, I was always away, she was around and new-“

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing, after all this time, after the numerous texts asking why he did what he did, how he could hurt so bad without even batting an eyelash, and now he wants to explain himself? What a piece of work.

“She listened and it all just got out of hand Y/N. You have to believe me.” Tom was pleading now, with every word he grew more desperate, he could tell he was losing her. Honestly he didn’t know where all of this was coming from, he had never felt such a need to defend himself, he needed her to understand.

“What the fuck Tom. Are you drunk or something?” She was so over this, she just wanted to crawl back into bed and continue her show that he had so rudely interrupted.

Tom was at a lose for words, had she not just heard everything he had said? He was pouring his heart out to her and she was worried about if he had a drink or not? “No-what are you even talking about? That has nothing to do with what I just said.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, “So you’re done then?”

Tom was in complete shock, his mouth was agape, his eyes were glossed over with unshed tears, was this was she felt when she was leaving him?

Y/N knew that look, it once adored her own face, it was the look for heartbreak. “Look Tom, we’re good. I’m over it alright? I don’t need an explanation anymore, we were a mistake.”

“How can you say that? I know I hurt you, but what we had wasn’t a mistake.” His heart was clenching, his brain trying to piece everything together as quickly as possible. Was this betrayal?

“What do you want? Forgiveness? I forgive you, okay?” She just wanted to him to stop infiltrated her space, it felt wrong for him to be here, in her new life that didn’t contain him. She was finally out of the spotlight, no harsh words on her instagram posts, no people asking for pictures whenever she walked the streets. She even made new friends. She most definitely wasn’t over the heartbreak that is Tom Holland but she was thriving.

Tom didn’t know what he wanted, did he want her back? He admits that he misses her, his soul aching for the only woman he had ever truly loved. Or was he just paranoid that his ex and his best mate would get together and he would lose the two most important people to him.

Y/N gave him a small smile, it seemed almost encouraging.

“See? No more guilty conscience.” She knew Tom has always been controlled by the little voice in the back of his head, constantly nagging at him to do better. “We’re strangers again.”

It felt like a bullet pierced his heart, he had completely lost her. His eyes were burning, begging for release of the tears that had built up over the course of their conversation. He was in shambles while she was perfectly fine.

Tom nodded his head deafly and headed straight for her front door, he couldn’t handle seeing her any longer.

“Hey Tom?” He stopped dead in his tracks, does she want him as much as he wants her, “No hard feelings, we’ll both find the person we’re meant to be with.”

And that was the final blow.

[heytherejulia]

Can I have my virginity back? ~ Harry Holland (smut version)

pairing: harry holland x osterfield!reader

warnings: swearing, sexual innuendos, fluff, smut (18+) under the cut, mature content

summary: your brother is harrison osterfield and your secret boyfriend is harry holland

word count: 2,3k+

author's note: so this is alternative version of the fic that i've already posted before but i wanted to write a smut and here it is, hope you enjoy it as much as the original one, luv J xx

You were dating Harry for some time now, but no one besides the two of you knew.

First of all, you really liked the rush of adrenaline that came with sneaking out and being all secretive.

Second of all, you didn’t want to answer all of these nosy questions from your friends, and listen to their teasing.

Third of all, you really didn’t want your brother, Harrison to know about your boyfriend. Let’s just say, he was just a little overprotective of you.

The thing about Harrison was that you never know if he's serious or not. Example? Before you and your previous boyfriend got together Harrison was threatening him in a friendly manner. To this day, no one knew if he was joking or not, but poor lad ran away faster than he came into your life.

So you decided to not say anything, at least for some time.

You were doing pretty great with keeping everything low until one afternoon, when you all were sitting in the boys' living room. It wasn’t something new because you hung out with them a lot, even before you started dating Harry.

It was really no one’s fault that the news slipped. Well, okay, maybe it was kinda your fault. Flirting between you and your boyfriend in front of everyone was nothing out of your ordinary behaviour, and they didn’t really care about it. After all, it was just an innocent flirt, right?

At the beginning it was. But then you both got drunk, and made out in your local pub's loo. One thing led to another, and you both developed huge crushes on each other, and started going out together, and eventually, he asked you to be his girlfriend.

And then the sneaking out began. You actually really liked that, the excitement, the adrenaline rush. It was something only yours and his. Something intimate and special. But shit happens.

You were sitting on the couch with boys watching another season of ‘Love Island’ while Harry was getting ready for golfing with his dad. He was looking for one of his favorite hoodies he forgot you took from his closet.

It truly was just a flirting and teasing that he even asked about this stupid piece of clothes but that one question has made a lot of damage.

When he saw his hoodie on you he decided to play with you a bit and see if you give him back his property or not. He should have known better.

‘Hey, Y/N, can I have my sweatshirt back?’ He asked, looking at you with a sly grin.

You haven’t thought about your answer, too occupied with your phone and totally forgetting about boys’ presence.

‘I don’t know, babe. Can I have my virginity back?’

The room fell completely silent. Chatter between Tom and Harrison died as soon as you finished talking. Harry looked at you with fright in his eyes and to be honest he looked kinda funny with all the colors draining from his face. Tom choked on his protein drink and Harrison’s hand flew to cover his mouth. They all were staring at you.

‘What?’

‘Y/n’ Harry said your name and realization hit you like a brick.

‘Oh. OH. I was just joking! C’mon, guys. Stop looking at me like that, I was kidding.’

Harrison looked pissed but his expression softened a little.

‘You better be cuz if not I’ll kill you, mate.’ He pointed at Harry.

After that Harry went out to hang out with his dad and you just went on with your own day not thinking much about the whole hoodie and virginity fiasco. Throughout the time he wasn’t home you helped boys with house chores and finally finished your uni work.

By the time Harry came home Haz and Tom had disappeared in their rooms to run some of their errands so you and your boyfriend had at least an hour to yourselves.

‘I missed you today.’

You were laying on top of him while he had his hands on your lower back playing with the hem of your jeans.

‘I missed you too, I had a really shitty game without you cheering me on.’

‘Aw baby,’ you cooed, ‘I’ll come with you next time.’

He smiled at you and kissed your cheeks and nose a few times. You giggled at his antics because he was oh so sweet and you were actually kinda ticklish. Finally he leaned in and properly kissed you. It started innocently, just small, short, lovely kisses but after a while it turned into a heated making out. You gasped when his palms found their place at your bottom and he smiled. During the kiss you realized he turned you over and you were under him. You made your way with kisses down his jaw and neck when you heard knock on the door.

‘Just a second!’

You quickly sat on your side of the bed and pretended you were busy watching whatever was on Harry’s laptop screen.

When the door opened you saw Harrison.

‘Sup mate?’

You were actually really impressed by Harry’s acting skills and the fact that he was so calm while facing your brother after what you just did. You were sure that your face was bright red.

‘I just wanted to borrow your speaker. Y/N?’ He furrowed his brows.

‘Oh we’re just watching a movie.’

There was an awkward silence for a moment until Harry spoke up again.

‘Sooo you wanted my speaker?’

‘Yeah, can I have it?’

He just nodded and gave Harrison the device. Your brother looked at both of you.

‘No funny business here, you two.’

After that he left the room and you felt all the tension go away from your body.

‘That was close.’ You said and leaned into Harry again as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

‘Yeah but would it be that bad if he knew?’ You looked at him with shock.

'Kinda I guess? I mean he would most likely freak out and make a big fuss about it and I really like having you just to myself.'

He sighed, kissing you in the crown of your head.

***

Few days later you and Harry were at a boys place all on your own again. Harrison went to hang out with his girlfriend, Tuwaine was visiting his family and Tom was out of town doing whatever he had to with his new film promotion. Surprisingly Tom gave Harry a few days off so he could stay with you and finally have some time to yourselves.

You were currently in the kitchen cooking while Harry was drinking his beer. You were focused on chopping veggies for salad when he came and hugged you from behind.

‘Hey! No PDA in my kitchen!’

‘That’s not your kitchen, darling.’

'It can be if I move here.'

Silence.

Shallow breathe.

'You're moving in?'

'Do you want me to move in?'

'C'mon Y/N, enough with the teasing. Are you really moving in with us?'

'I've spoken to Tom about the possibility. I mean it's a cheaper option for all of us and it's closer to the university. The house is huge and for most of the time you're not even here. I can be your caretaker.'

'Sooo I'll be able to sneak into your room anytime I want, huh'

Harry smirked and turned you around so your back was pressed to the counter and his hands were firmly on your hips.

‘What you’re gonna do about that, Holland?’

‘I’ve got a few things on my mind.’

You both were terrible at flirting yet neither of you wouldn’t want it any other way.

Harry was looking at you with such an adorable look on his face that you were actually melting inside.

‘You’re gonna kiss me or?’

‘It works both ways, baby. You can do it first.’

You rolled your eyes and were about to lean into him when you felt his lips on yours. The kiss was sweet and slow but rather quickly turned into some kind of a foreplay. Harry grabbed your thighs and sat you on the counter standing between your slightly parted legs. His hands on your waist, yours in his auburn locks, his shirt on the floor, your skirt rolled up to your stomach.

‘I fucking love you.’ He whispered into your lips breaking the kiss only for a few seconds.

‘I’m in love with you, Harry Holland.’

His hands started to roam around your body while his lips were working on a hickey exactly on the spot that could be easily hidden. You quietly sighed, arching your back so your breasts were pressed into his chest. He went down with his lips leaving a wet path from your neck to cleavage. He tugged on your shirt.

‘Can I take that off?’

You nod. With the shirt off you reached behind yourself to unclasp your bra and take it off. Harry’s eyes widened as he started sucking on your nipples. You moaned and put your hands into his hair. As you pulled on it he pressed his hard on to your clothed core. In the meantime you unbuckled his jeans and pulled them down so they pooled around his feet.

‘Wanna take it upstairs?’

He asked, teasing you through your panties.

You nodded and he lifted you from the counter and you wrapped your legs around his middle. His hands moved to your butt and gave it a gentle squeeze and went to his bedroom.

He laid you down on the bed and stared at you for a few seconds and breathed loudly through his nose.

'You're fucking breathtaking love.'

You got bored of laying there and the heat between your legs was too much to take it slow. Also you were aware of the boys who may come home in any minute.

'C'mon, lover boy, we don't have time for that.'

'So quicky?'

You nodded.

'Then quicky it is.'

He tore your panties apart and throwed useless fabric on the floor.

'Foreplay or…?'

'Just come here, Holland.'

You kissed him getting comfortable on his lap. You gently rocked yourself on his cock just to create friction and tease him a little. You moaned quietly and Harry took his chance to put his tongue into your mouth. You fought for dominance for a while but he slipped himself inside you and you couldn't care less about winning this competition.

The room was completely quiet except the sound of your skin hitting with his, your soft moans, his shallow breaths and the sound of praise he whispered to your ear.

'Are you close?'

Nod.

'Okay baby. Let go, I got you.'

You kissed him again just to muffle your moans but he started kissing your neck and cheeks.

'You're beautiful.'

You clenched around him and felt him shuddering inside you. He changed your position so he was on top again. He thrust into you a few more times and you felt your body tremble under him.

'That's it love. I got you.'

You felt blissful but at the same time like you lost all your energy. He slipped out of you and kissed you on the forehead.

'What about you?'

'I'm fine love.'

'No. Let me.'

You wrapped your hand around his shaft and massaged it until he let out a low groan.

'Thank you.'

Another kiss on the forehead.

'Pleasure's all mine.'

After you both cleaned yourself and put underwear on, you laid on his bed.

'I guess I really can't take my virginity back, huh'

'I think it would be rather hard to do so.'

You laughed and kissed him.

You weren't doing a lot, just gentle kisses and cuddling but still you two were too wrapped up in each other to hear the sound of the front door open.

Harrison came into the kitchen with a smile on his lips, left the groceries and went upstairs to look for whoever was home at the moment. He walked into Harry's room and his happy demeanor died in a second he saw half naked Harry kissing you. His younger sister.

‘What the actual fuck you think you’re doing, Holland?!’

Harry automaticly covered your body with his.

Harrison really was about to pull him on the floor and kick his ass but decided to wait a moment before he did that.

‘Calm down, Harrison.’

‘Y/N don’t tell me to calm down after everything that I just saw. I don’t allow this. You won’t hook up with my sister.’ You gasped in shock.

‘Mate,’ Harry decided to be the one talking after he saw your expression. He was positive you would just start an unwanted fight with the blonde. ‘we’re in love and you can’t change that. She’s not another hook up, she’s it for me.’

Harrison was looking at both of you still hesitating. How could he let that easily go of the fact that you’re dating one of his best friends?

‘How long?’

‘Few months.’

'Few months?! And I'm finding out about this now?!'

'Yeah, cuz we knew you're gonna react like that and throw a tantrum like a fucking toddler!'

He took a deep breath to release some tension.

'Why would I?!'

'Because apparently I'm off limits? And you're going to kill him?'

'But I was just joking. I couldn't just said to him that he can fuck my little sister. What kind of brother would I be?'

'The cool one maybe?' He rolled his eyes at your antics.

‘Fine. But no PDA in front of me. No PDA at all to be honest.’

‘We can’t swear there won’t be any but thank you, Haz. It means a lot to both of us.’

‘That’s alright,’ he hardened his stare again, 'but if you hurt her I’m gonna actually physically hurt you.’

‘I know you will. But I also know that it won’t be necessary. I’m not planning on that.’

***

‘Well,’ Harry lied down next to you. ‘It went better than I thought it would.’

You just hummed and put the duvet over both of you and settled your head in the crook of his neck.

‘I’m happy with you, Y/N. Even though I can’t have my hoodie back.’

‘I’m happy with you, too. Even though I can’t have my virginity back.’

You laughed at his hurt expression.

‘Oh so now you’re the one to complain huh?’

He flipped you so he was pressing your body to the mattress. Let’s just say you didn’t laugh for the rest of the night.

[hogwartsmarvelmommy]

Prove it 🔥 (H.H)

A/n: ahhh I've been working on this for too long, but I finally finished.

I do not grant permission for anything of mine to be copied or redistributed even if recognition is given. All rights reserved to Hogwartsmarvelmommy © 2021.

🌸🌺my Masterlist🌺🌸

Summary: a conversation between your roommates, has you make a slip up. Saying to much and then getting exactly what you wanted.

Word count: 3.4K

Warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol, and smut, additional warnings under the cut.

Warnings(continued): oral (f & m receiving) fingering, unprotected sex, edging, Harry being a cocky little thing 😈 talk of faking orgasms.

Hope you enjoy 😉 (I know I did writing it lol)

Two words had gotten you into this situation. "Prove it," you had told him, alcohol coursing through your veins. Had you meant it? Absolutely. Would you regret it in the morning? Oh absolutely.

You looked down at the curly auburn hair that was between your thighs as Harry devoured your most intimate region. You had imagined this more than once, fantasized even, but the real thing? So much fucking better.

But you knew this man better than anyone else, you knew he was a brat, and you knew he wasn't going to give you what you craved that easily.

As his tongue lapped at you bundle of nerves and his fingers thrust into you, you felt yourself get ready to unravel, but the tightening of your walls around his digits alerted him and he pulled away, leaving you on the brink, with no escape.

"Harry!" You groaned out. This being the second time he had done this now.

"What darling? Ready to admit I'm better than all those ex's?" He asked smugly.

"Harry, I can't even compare you to any of them, because I will never know if you won't let me finish," you nearly shouted, the need for an orgasm was making you grumpy now, and the little shit In Front of you was enjoying every second of it.

"Now is that anyway to ask for something you want?" He teased.

"Harold, I swear to go- ohh!" You gasped as his lips returned to your bud, sucking on it, building that sensation back up. "Fuck, Harry," you moaned out.

If there was one rule, the golden rule really, that should not be ignored, it was that messing around inside your friend group was a serious no no. So despite your ever growing feelings for the younger Holland twin, you had always vowed to not cross that line, worried that crossing it would be detrimental to your friendship. So that night, when Sam had veered the conversation to intimate experiences and some rather embarrassing truths had been brought to light, you were not expecting.. Well this from said conversation.

“I swear it,” Sam laughed, knocking back the remainder of the pint that had been placed in front of him.

“I don't know Sam, from personal experience, I can tell you girls are pretty good fakers,” you taunted him, causing him to shoot you a glare.

“Y/N?! Do you fake it?” Harrison shrieked, nearly doubling over with laughter.

“When it's boring, yeah. I promise my fake moaning and panting makes it go faster, I don't want to lay there as they have their way, giving me no pleasure,” you laughed out, watching the boys in front of you shocked.

“Ladies and gents, I give you y/n y/l/n, who can't keep a boyfriend because she fakes orgasms,” Tom announced, making the whole group break out in an uncontrollable laugh.

“Ok, all seriousness,” Harrison put his arms in the air, as to calm the lot of you down, “Who do you think out of us, would you have to fake it for?” he quizzed, eyebrows cocked up in curiosity.

“No, mm, i'm not answering that,” You told him, taking a sip of your pint.

“Come on, I need to know,” Harrison laughed. The rest of the boys agreed. You looked around at the three of them in front of you, waiting. You glanced next to you, the boy who had been fairly quiet for most of the night, sans the laughs he had been sharing with the rest of the group nodding in approval. He too wanted to know.

“Fine,” You sighed. “Sam, Harrison,” You started, both of them perking up, waiting for your thoughts. “I'd feel like I'd fake it with you,” You admitted. You heard Tom explode in laughter as the other two looked offended.

“Well wait a damn minute,” Harrison interjected.

“No, you asked what i think,” You pointed at him, “I have no proof of any of that, nor do i want to know,” You told him sternly.

“Fine, but you're wrong,” He told you.

“Kay Mr,Vanilla,” You teased.

His eyes widened, “I told you that in confidence Y/N!” He groaned, making you laugh loudly.

“What about me?” Tom asked curiously. You looked at him, taking a breath as you thought about what you thought would happen.

“Honestly Tom, Living with you, i have heard some of the girls you have brought home, and the noises you have them making, makes me think you know what your doing,” He beamed a smile, about to brag to the rest of the boys, “But, i feel like my expectations would be to high and i'd be let down, and end up faking it,” The boy’s smile faltered.

“Oh piss off Y/N,” Tom told you, slumping into the booth.

“You guys asked!” You told them in defense, the three boys pouting across from you.

“Well, what about Harry?” Sam asked.

You looked to your side to find the auburn haired man smirking at you, waiting for your thoughts. Unfortunately for you, the alcohol in your system made it hard for you NOT to be honest.

“Oh, Harry,” You blushed at the thought of him having you in bed, “Now I think Harry would have my legs shaking and me screaming his name,” You said before realizing the words had even left your mouth. You glanced at the three in front of you, with mouths wide open, staring at you in shock, and then to your side to see Harry looking at you with a devious smirk, at your words. “I'm kidding you divs,” You laughed, trying to cover your ass, but the damage had been done.

“Legs shaking huh?” Harry said, letting out a chuckle.

“Piss of,” You laughed, shoving the boy's shoulder, and standing up. “I'm going to go get the next round, the least I can do after bruising your guys' egos,” you announced before heading towards the bar.

The pub wasn't as busy as it usually was on a Saturday night, but it was still busy enough that you had to duck in between groups of people to get to the bar. Once there you ordered five more pints, and stood waiting for the drinks. “Y/N?” You heard from behind you making you turn to see where the noise had come from.

To your absolute horror you were left looking at an ex fling, if you could even classify the one awful night you shared together as that. “Hi,” You muttered trying to put on a fake smile.

“Wow, it's been so long,” he said, pulling you into his arms into an unreciprocated hug.

“Yup,” You muttered again, feeling completely uncomfortable with the whole situation. Luckily for you, Harry had spotted you from the booth, and instantly recognized the uneasy look on your face, and came to the rescue.

“Darling, what's taking so long?” He asked, slipping his arm around your waist and pressing his lips to your temple. You saw the man's face contort in disgust before walking away without another word. You glanced up at Harry, who still was holding your body against his.

“Thanks,” You whispered, batting your eyelashes as you looked at him, his auburn curls spilling over his forehead, and cheeks pink and rosy from the alcohol.

“Anytime,” He said with a wink, just as the barman said your name, sliding the tray with the drinks over to you. Harry grabbed the tray leading the way back to the booth.

The boys quickly got over the bruised egos from before, as the night progressed and the alcohol loosened everyone up.

At one point you heard a song start, and you couldn't help the sudden urge that took you over, needing to dance. Grabbing Harry's hand, you pulled him up and behind you to the dance floor. Both of your bodies moving to the beat of the music. It was common, you and Harry dancing together, the rest of the group usually opting out. Tonight though, Harry's hands found your waist as you were facing away from him, pulling your body back into his, your bum resting on his neither region. Your hips grinded against his as the music played, his breath hot on your neck as his hand rested on your hips. Tonight was something else.

“You actually think I'd have you screaming my name?” He whispered in your ear, as your bodies swayed together.

You felt your cheeks redden at the question. “Harry,” you giggled, tuning your body towards him, still staying impossibly close.

“Cause, i bet you i could,��� He cocked his head to the side, a sexy smirk on his face as he raised his eyebrows at you.

A million thoughts rushed through your head, as you stared up at him. Logic would tell you to laugh at his words, brush them off like nothing, but alcohol lowered all your inhibitions and the words that slipped out of your mouth had even shocked you.

“Prove it,” You whispered against his ear, grazing your teeth over his earlobe. You felt his grip on your waist tighten, before letting you go and pulling you behind him towards the booth.

“Oi, Taking this one home, she's too pissed to be here,” Harry explained while he grabbed both of your belongings, and rushed the two of you towards the door.

It was a good try, but you knew the rest of them had to have some inkling, knowing you were not a lightweight, and had drank as much as the rest of them.

Your flat was only a five minute walk, but it felt like it took forever. Once you got inside and shut the door, Harry pushed you against it, catching you off guard. His face was barely an inch from yours, noses touching as he looked into your eyes, his tongue snuck out of his mouth, swiping across his lips like he was starving for you. “Gonna make you feel good,” He whispered, before finally pressing your lips together. He had barely done anything and you were ready to fall apart.

The kiss was hungry, as his lips devoured yours, pushing his body into yours as he kissed you. His lips parted from yours, as he reached down grabbing the hem of your shirt pulling it up and over your head, and tossing it to the side.

“Mine or yours?” You asked him, referring to the room you were going to go to.

“Yours, mine's a mess,” He said, pulling his own shirt off. You giggled as you made your way down the hall, stripping off your clothes in a teasing manner as he was a few steps behind you. You would have to do some explaining in the morning to the boys, but in the moment, the only thing on your mind was you and him, not the trail of clothes from the front door to your bedroom.

As you shimmied into your bed you unhooked your bra tossing it towards him as soon as he made it through the door. “You're a cheeky thing,” He smirked, catching it.

“I can be,” You told him, patting the bed next to you.

He wasted no time crawling into the bed with you, pushing you down onto the pillows, and connecting your lips. It was a hungry kiss, and something that had felt like it was long past due.

His lips traveled down your neck leaving marks that would surely be a reminder for days to come.

"Fuck your perfect," he muttered as he kissed down your collar bone, making his way to your breasts. If you didn't know any better you would think that this had been on Harry's mind as much as it had been yours. He wrapped his lips around your nipple, flicking his tongue over it as he rolled your other between his fingers, soliciting a moan from you.

He ran his hand from in between your breasts and trailed it down your chest and stomach before gently running his fingers over your already soaked folds. "Oh god," you moaned out.

"Well don't go screaming my name just yet," Harry teased as he pressed his fingers down on your sensitive bud.

"I can't promise you anything," you giggled. You watched as Harry kissed down your chest and stomach, stopping right before getting to where you really wanted him. He looked up at you, flashing you a cheeky smile and winking before dipping his head down and running his tongue through your folds. You let your eyes fall closed, enjoying the feeling of harry teasing you with his tongue. He would swirl it up and just before getting to your clit he would stop, moving it back down to your entrance. He did this a few times before you finally groaned in frustration. "Harry!"

"What?" He asked innocently.

"You're being a tease," you whined, poking out your bottom lip in the best pout you could manage.

"Is that so? Tell me what you want then, and maybe I'll do it," he told you, biting his bottom lip as he waited for instructions.

"My-"

"Your?"

"Clit harry, I want your tongue on my clit," you sighed, cheeks heating from having to even say it.

"Ahh, like this?" He asked, dipping his head down again, lapping at the sensitive bud a few times.

"Mmm yes, just like that," you moaned.

"Or maybe, like this," he said, switching to a swirling motion.

"Christ," you groaned, as your hand instinctively flew to his curly hair.

"So that's how my girl likes it," he muttered, before returning to work on your bud. The use of 'my girl,' driving you wild.

"Don't stop," you moaned out as you felt yourself closing in on your high, but as soon as the words left your mouth he pulled away. "Wha-"

"How do I know you're not faking it?" He questioned. You stared at him in disbelief, was he seriously asking you that.

"Does it look like I'm faking?" You shot back.

"I don't know, you told Sam girls are pretty good fakers, how do I know I'm not boring you like the other guys," he asked, making you roll your eyes.

"Ok, first. Why would I fake it with you? Second, it's been like three guys over the last year. And third, your not fucking me, so I couldn't even tell you if you compared, which by the way I wouldn't compare you, because your you, and they were, well nobody's," you exhaled, having said that with one breath.

"So none of them went down on you?" He wondered, face falling.

"No Harry, they were all only thinking of themselves," you told him before falling back onto your back.

You felt his fingers tease at your entrance, before slowly thrusting into you. "Damn baby, you deserve to be taken care of," he cooed before dipping his head back down and sucking on your sensitive bud.

Edging, so much edging, it was like Harry strives off of seeing you so close and then taking it away. Over and over.

"Harry," you groaned, throwing your head back in defeat. It might have been obnoxious, but god was it turning out to be the best night of your life.

"What is it darling?" He cooed from between your legs.

"Let me finish," you whined.

"I'll make you a deal, let me fuck that pretty face, and I'll fuck you till you forget your name," you peeked your head up to look at him, shocked that Harry, who you had known for years had actually just said that.

You nodded quickly, pushing yourself up.

"Please," you nearly begged, getting to your knees.

"So eager to have my cock in your mouth?" He chuckled.

"You have no idea," you told him, licking your lips.

"Who am I to make you wait," he told you before getting up and grabbing his painfully hard cock in his hand. "You gonna take it all?" He asked you. You nodded looking up at him through your eyelashes. He reached down stroking your cheek. "Open up then darling," he told you, before pressing his red tip to your lips. You did as you were told, hollowing your cheeks as he slowly slid his dick into your mouth, turning you on even more. You sat there taking him, his full length thrusting in and out of your mouth as he held your hair in his hand, you watched his face as he slowly started to get to his high, he was never more attractive then now, with his dick buried in your mouth and his auburn curls pressed to his sweaty forehead. You heard him grunt, and his length began to twitch. So pushing him away, you let go of his dick with a pop, and leaned back.

"Y/n!" He frowned, looking disappointed.

"It's not nice, is it?" You teased.

"Oh that's it," he chuckled, grabbing your ankle and flipping you onto your stomach, causing a giggle from you. He grabbed your hips pulling you up into your hands and knees, before smacking your ass. "Gonna be a good girl?" He asked.

"Depends," you glanced back at him with a smirk.

"Oh really? On what?" He demanded.

"How well you fuck me," you quipped.

"Y/n, baby. You don't even know what you're in for," he whispered, leaning down kissing your shoulder. He put one hand on the low of your back as he grabbed his length, running it up and down your folds teasing your clit with it before thrusting into you with no warning.

"Christ Harry," you moaned as your arms gave out, and you fell into the pillows. He took a second finding his rhythm before thrusting in and out of you with no remorse. He reached around you finding your clit and pressing his fingers against it gently, moving them in circles. You felt the familiar feeling that you had been deprived of all night building back up. "Har, I'm not going to last," you cried out.

"That's ok baby girl, let go, I've got you," he cooed as he continued to pound into you, and you did just that, your orgasm washing over you as Harry continued his movement until it became rigid and you felt him twitch. "Fuck," he groaned out, before letting his upper body fall onto your back.

The two of you laid next to each other, catching your breath. "That was-" you started.

"Yeah it was," he said, caressing your cheek. "Didn't have you screaming my name though," he chuckled.

"But you had my legs shaking," you giggled.

You returned to laying in silence, your brain going over the fact that you had just crossed a major line, which might alter your friendships dynamic. "Hey Har?" You whispered.

"Yes love?" He turned his head to look at you.

"Did this mean something to you?" You asked him coyly. He could see the worry, all over your face.

"It meant everything to me," he whispered, leaning in to kiss you. It was different than before, it wasn't filled with blind lust and hormones. It was more, more passionate, more loving, and you kissed him, for what felt like hours, your lips gliding together, tongues wrestling, and body's molded together in a pile of limbs and skin.

"Hey y/n!" You heard from outside your bedroom making you jump.

"Shit, stay here," you whispered to Harry, jumping up and wrapping a blanket around yourself before walking to your door and cracking it to see Harrison and Tom. "Hi," you said.

"These are yours?" Harrison asked, holding out your clothes. You felt your cheeks grow hot.

"Yeah, sorry," you muttered, grabbing them from him.

"And I'm assuming these are Harry's, but not sure if he wants them in with you guys, or does he want to trudge down the hall naked later?" Tom asked holding Harry's discarded clothes out to you. Your eyes grew wide and you were at a loss for words for a moment.

"Uh, yeah I'll, uh. I'll take them," you muttered, reaching out for them.

"So did you have to fake it?" Harrison asked, a smirk plastered on his face.

"Oh my god!" You shrieked, "go away!" You shut your door, turning back to look at Harry who was sitting up watching the whole thing with a smirk on his face.

"Come here," he told you, patting the bed like you had done before. "I've still got to make you scream my name," he winked at you.

You dropped your blanket from your body, heading back to your bed.

You could get used to this.

[parkers-gal]

Part 2 of Harry thought she was cheating on with tom" uhm you should do it if you want or not.

Harry wants know the expalantion. Why did y/n and tom are soo soo close??

its okay if you dont want do it :))

hiii sorry it took so long ! :( that piece is called “what’s his.” here’s pt two !! <3

requests are temporarily closed

—

With two days gone, you feel it’s probably time for you to stop ignoring Tom. After your fight with Harry, you thought it best to not interact with any of the Hollands until things settled, but right now you’re in desperate need of some comfort, and Tom doesn’t deserve to lose a friend because you’re in a rough patch with his brother.

He’d called you an extraordinary amount of times, checking on you and asking questions and offering his help whenever it was needed. You hadn’t answered until today, and he’d replied within seconds.

You were going over to their flat. Tom promised Harry would be out with Sam and Harrison, so you wouldn’t have to deal with awkward encounters or situations. You’re grateful, at least, that your fight with Harry hasn’t splintered your friendship with Tom — at least, not as much as you thought it might.

The beep of your car brings you out of your head — you realize you’re at Tom’s house a lot faster than you thought. You’re on time, though, but you’re not as mentally prepared as you’d like to be. You’re a bit distressed, and noticeably so. Fighting with Harry wasn’t fun.

“Hey, Y/N/N.” Tom greets you as he opens the door, stepping aside to allow you inside. You smile nervously, awkwardly, and you manage to remove your shoes and settle on the couch. Tom has movies and ice cream pulled up, your favorite blanket splayed out on one end of the couch.

As you settle, he sits beside you, hands in his lap while he smiles gently.

“Do you… wanna watch a movie? Or… maybe talk about what happened?” He swallows thickly. “I’m here if you need to vent or- rant or whatever they say nowadays.”

You chuckle, almost dryly, but nod nonetheless at his offer. Ten minutes go by with you talking, and somehow you’ve shifted closer to him. Another ten minutes pass and you’re crying into his shoulder about the entire ordeal, hugging his side, leaning into him as another tear falls.

He takes his time with you, calming you down before talking quietly. He’s rationalizing the issue with you, telling you the things Harry said. He knows he shouldn’t, because this really isn’t his business, but he can’t help it. He wants things to work out between you and his brother.

The front door opens, though neither of you hear it through your talking. Harry comes through the hallway, and when he catches sight of you cuddled into his brother’s side, he scoffs, rolling his eyes.

Tom notices him first, and when you follow his eyeline, you quickly separate from Tom, standing as you attempt to go over to him.

“Harry- Harry it’s not what you think-!” You don’t get to say anything you want to, because as he runs up the stairs, his bedroom door slams loudly, leaving you a puzzled puddle at the bottom of the staircase.

When you turn slowly on your heel, you’re close to crying again, and when Tom makes a move to hug you, you step back.

You’re muttering words as you grab your bag and make for the door. “Tom, I’m sorry. This was a bad idea, I- I shouldn’t have come.”

You leave him in the doorway, quickly situating yourself in the driver’s seat of your old car. Tom is sighing to himself, hands rubbing his forehead while he slams the door with a “shit.”

When he turns around, Harry is on the staircase, making his way down. He’s furious, angrily making his way towards Tom. Only, he doesn’t stop. Instead, he walks right past his older brother and straight into the kitchen. Tom finds nothing holding him back as he runs after him.

“Harry- Harry please, wait.”

“No.” He harshly closes the fridge after getting a cup of yogurt out from the pack on the top shelf. “I don’t care for whatever you have to say.” “No, but I want you to know there’s nothing going on between us-”

“Does it look like I give a fuck?” He sets his spoon down on the counter, fingers gripping the edge of the marble in anger. “You’ve already stolen her from me, it doesn’t matter anymore.” As Harry leaves the kitchen, Tom’s anger bubbles into the air, and he can’t stop himself from yelling at his younger brother.

“I didn’t ‘steal’ anyone! It’s your fault that you were too insecure to talk to her instead of accusing her of cheating on you.” Harry turns around slowly, nostrils flaring, jaw clenching and eyes darkening. He drops the cup of strawberry yogurt, the spoon clinking on the hardwood. In a matter of seconds, Harry is lunging at his older brother, about to swing a fist, but luckily, Harrison is by his side in the nick of time. He’d arrived just on time, noticing Harry’s stance and recognizing the signs of when Harry is about to swing a throw.

“Stop, stop.” Harrison’s voice is a loud and stark contrast to the tense silence between the Holland boys.

“Fuck off.” Harry shoves Harrison hands off of his arms, storming out of the room, leaving a breathless Tom and a panting Harrison.

“What the fuck was that about?” Harrison gestures to the entire room, to the direction in which the boy had walked out. Tom doesn’t reply, too caught up in the events that were just portrayed in front of him. “Care to explain?” Harrison gets louder as more time passes, and Tom nods, gesturing for him to stop yelling.

“I just… Harry walked in on me and Y/N.”

“Oh god, Tom.” Harrison cuts his explanation short, and Tom is quick to clear up the image.

“Not like that. We were just- we were just talking. She started crying so I hugged her and then Harry found us like that.” “So Harry walked in on his brother hugging his girlfriend.” Harrison stated bluntly, clearly.

“Pretty much. But then he got angry so she left so I tried to clear things up but then he got angry and we yelled at each other and-” “And what did you say to him?” Harrison gives Tom a side eye, and Tom winces at himself.

“I… blamed him for everything.” “Jesus, Tom.”

“How was I supposed to know he was gonna throw a punch?!”

“You weren’t, but you should’ve known you were gonna piss him off even more!”

Tom scoffs, head tilting backwards while he looks at the ceiling in thought. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“You need to stay out of their relationship.” Harrison doesn’t sugarcoat what he thinks needs to happen. There’s no happy ending for you and Harry if Tom doesn’t stay out of the waters until it clears up.

“But-”

“No, Tom.” Harrison’s shoulders sag slightly. “Look, I know she’s your friend too, but that’s Harry’s girlfriend. You’ve… I don’t know… caused tension? You’ve gotten in between them. They need to bond again.”

“No, yeah, I know. You’re right.” He sighs. “I just… I don’t know if this is all my fault? It’s not my fault Harry said those things to her.”

“Yeah,” Harrison sips a glass of water. “But you should give them space until they make up.” Tom hums, nodding as he crosses his thick arms. “You know, you could start by explaining why the hell you and Y/N are so close.” Tom eyes him while biting his bottom lip.

“She’s…. Taking online courses so she can get into screenwriting. I’m trying to get her an intern for an upcoming film I’m working on.” He confesses as if it’s the most taboo thing in the world. “She wanted to surprise Harry by saying she’s coming with us for filming. We just- we don’t know if it’s final yet, so we didn’t want to tell him anything.” Harrison rolls his eyes, almost unsurprised at the predicament. “Well, stop making work seem so unprofessional. Harry can handle time away from his girlfriend if it comes to that.”

“Right. I suppose I should talk to her.”

“And then get her to talk to him, yeah.”

“Kay,” Tom grabs his car keys and a jacket before waving goodbye to Harrison, the door clicking on his way out.

**

You’re not sure how Tom convinced you to go to Paddy’s rugby game, but you’re here nonetheless. You have a jersey on under your cardigan, jeans fitted nicely while you stand with your arms crossed. It’s cold and dark out, so the field lights are on and they’re brighter than light mode on your cell phone.

Tom said he’d meet you here, at the bottom of the bleachers. The game has already started, and while you’re mediocrely cheering with the rest of the crowd, you’re still hyper aware of the fact that you’re alone. When you feel a presence next to you, you realize Tom has taken a stance on your left side, Harry on your right.

With a thick swallow of your dignity and courage, you step closer to Harry. “Do you… wanna talk?”

He chews on his lower lip but nods almost confidently. You shiver as the two of you walk towards a popcorn stand. It’s quiet for a good few moments, beats passing with just the rustling of grass under your shoes.

“I’m… sorry about everything I said. I know you’d never cheat on me.” He’s first to break the silence, rough deep voice cutting the tension and breaking the ice. “I just- I get so insecure whenever you’re with Tom. I don’t feel like a good boyfriend when you’re always with him.”

You can tell he’s sucked in his breath, a sure sign that if he doesn’t compose himself, he’s going to start crying. You take the opportunity to reply.

“I know,” You breathe out. “I was… maybe a little too close to Tom. I just- I didn’t realize, y’know? It seemed like you were fine with it but the dynamic got weird and- I’m just… I’m sorry too. I should’ve tried to… help you with your insecurities instead of doing… what I did.”

He nods, watching his feet take each step. “I missed you.” He confesses it just as the two of you come to a stop in front of the popcorn stand. You lick your lips, breathing out a helpless chuckle.

“I really missed you, too.”

When he takes a step closer, you realize what he’s initiating, and you embrace him strongly, holding him tightly, squeezing him. He inhales your scent, sighing to himself and exhaling in relief to have you back in his arms. You smile against his shoulder, bringing him closer, if possible.

“‘M sorry.” He’s grumbling into you, voice rasping. You can tell he’s a bit emotional, so you squeeze him again, pulling apart to look at him.

“‘S okay.” You smile, bringing his face closer to yours. “We’re okay.” Your fingers are under his chin while he nods, and suddenly, your lips are embracing, kissing sensually just as they have so many times before. He can taste your coconut chapstick, and he smiles into the kiss, hands on your waist gently.

“We’re okay.”