#harry styles prompt

[fkinavocado]

Daddy issues- Masterlist, Author’s Note & Warnings

extra / alternatively, read on wattpad

*timeline: somewhere after the main story

Home (word count: 6.5k)

“Honey, I’m home!”

You heard Harry at the front door and greeted him back, waiting for him to come into the kitchen to see the surprise you had waiting for him.

Home.

After your trip to Italy you decided not to head back to the US. Harry suggested you’d try London on for a fit, and after renting out a place for quite a few months, you finally decided this would be your new home. Harry brought his business back home so to speak, and you began hunting for the perfect place. It hadn’t been easy, but you’d found it finally- a typical Londonese townhouse, full of charm and history. And the fact it had quite the back yard had been a major plus.

The price point had been an absolute shock. Harry assured you it was a good area and that’s why the price was so steep but you couldn’t hurt but argue that he could’ve bought a mansion back in the US for that kind of money. 

Because, of course, Harry wouldn’t even consider debating some sort of arrangement in which you could chip in. The property was in his name, and it’s not like you were married, so it made sense in a way, but you wanted to at least pay the bills if anything. Harry would shut down any such attempts of yours.

Even though you’d finally found the place to call your own, it was still a work in progress. But it was home. Harry had made sure of it. He’d never ceased looking for the place that would be the perfect home for the two of you, for a fresh start together. 

There wasn’t much you had to tackle on, with Harry being the talented interior designer that he was. Not that he didn’t consult with you on every small thing and worked hard to turn your vision into reality. But the garden he’d left to your tending alone. And, well, until you could find your footing again career-wise, you enjoyed playing the housewife quite a bit.

Harry was treating you as such, anyway. He knew better than to rush this kind of thing with you after what the two of you had been through, but you knew he was just aching to pop the question. 

And maybe you were beginning to entertain the idea, too. The mere notion of marriage used to scare you, what with the toxic family you’d grown up in, but Harry was your rock. He was your forever, you just knew it. And you knew it’d make him happy. So you were trying to give him subtle hints that maybe he could be less tentative in his approach.

You were never much of a cook, but you did try, for him, for the two of you. Besides, you were starting to get bored at home. Job hunting wasn’t exactly being very fruitful, especially since you weren’t quite sure what you wanted to do going further, and Harry encouraged you to take all the time you needed and even insisted you could even not go back to work at all. He very much enjoyed having you home all to himself.

Not to mention all his talk of breeding you during sex, a kink of his (and yours) that had revved up quite dramatically ever since you’d been to Italy. You didn’t really discuss it properly outside the bedroom, but you knew deep down this was something Harry was genuinely hoping for. He wanted kids with you, no doubt. And that was something you were still trying to figure out for yourself. 

“Something smells delicious in here.”

Slightly startled, lost in your train of thought, you turned to him. And what a glorious sight it was. Harry had just returned from a football match (the way he insisted soccer was actually called here) with some of his old and newer buddies, and he liked to go all in. He even wore a proper jersey, the whole she-bang, and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was a proper football player with the way said jersey clung onto his sweaty body, knee high socks and his hair pinned up messily in a small claw clip atop his head. 

“Oh, it’s just a little something.”

“Love, it’s not just a little something. You barely made it all fit on the dinner table!”

“Well, I know you had a long week at work and you’d been looking forward to go kick that ball around with the boys and would get back home famished, so… hope you like it.”

“Damn, I’m a lucky son of a bitch aren’t I?” He grinned and you made your way to him, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. “Sorry, darling, I should go wash up first. I’m a sweaty mess.”

“No, don’t, the food will get cold. It’s been set on the table for some 10 minutes, the game took longer than I expected. Sorry,” you worried your lower lip between your teeth and watched him look at you endearingly and then even more so taking in everything you’d set out on the table for dinner.

“Don’t be silly, sweetheart. I’m sorry it took so long, had I known what was waiting for me back home I’d have rushed back. But I had to wait for David to drive me back, and that wanker was trying to get us all to go hit a pub. Luckily everyone was feeling beat and he dropped it.”

“David… Beckham?”

Harry laughed, “I’ll tell him you said that. He’ll get a kick out of it.”

“But wait, why did you need him to drive you home? Didn’t you drive there?”

“I did, but I have an ouchie.” He pouted, giving you his best puppy dog eyes and you giggled before it actually hit you.

“What? You’re injured?! Where?”

Harry chuckled. “Hardly an injury. But I did sprain my ankle I’m afraid. Certainly feels like it, I can’t lean on it. It’s my right so I can’t drive.”

You were just now noticing Harry was leaning against the open space arch of the kitchen, resting his whole weight on his good leg.

“What are you standing there for?! Sit down, for god’s sake. And you wanted to take a shower–” you scolded him, which for some reason made him smile all the more as he limped to his seat at the table. “I’ll run you a bath after you eat. Let me get you some hygienic wet wipes at least, those hands look like you’ve been out gardening, I swear to god…” you left for the wipes, mumbling to yourself and could hear Harry’s low chuckle. He found your worry endearing but you lowkey wanted to wring his neck for not being more careful.

After going through all the cabinets in which you could’ve swore you’d stashed some, you returned to the kitchen. “I can’t find them.”

“I’ll wash my hands in the sink–” he made to stand up but you pushed him back into his chair gently, mindful of his injury.

“For god’s sake, sit down you silly man.” You then scooted your own chair next to his and started plating for him. 

“Y/N, this looks amazing. Truly. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

He sounded genuinely impressed and that lifted your spirits somewhat. “Well, it’s the least I can do sitting at home all day doing nothing while you’re out there earning a living.”

Harry gave you a long look, and you felt it so intensely that you looked up at him after you set his place in between the two of you, “what?”

“You know that’s not how it works. You shouldn’t ever feel the need to compensate in any way, my love. You know that. Have I not told you this enough times that it gets through in that pretty head of yours? This is not a barter. I’m not expecting anything of you. Not a single thing. I just want you to be happy doing whatever it is that you want to do.”

“I know?...” you cleared your throat, repeating to sound more convincing. “I know. I happened to like doing this for you. For us. Gives me a sense of accomplishment that I contribute to our home together. Is that so bad?”

Harry wanted to bring his hand to your cheek and then clumsily refrained, remembering he hadn’t had a chance to wash. “Of course not, sweetheart. But I’m just making sure you’re doing it because you genuinely felt like doing it. And just because you did this today, I’m not expecting it tomorrow, or the day after. You don’t need to cook. I enjoy cooking for us too, and we can always go out or order takeout, it’s nothing to stress over. Alright? Promise me?”

You smiled, taking in his genuine words. “I promise, baby. Now shush. It’s getting cold.”

He laughed and when he made to grab the fork you playfully slapped it away. “Nuh-huh. Dirty hands. I’ll feed you.”

Harry really laughed then, throwing his head back a bit. “Excuse you?”

“What? C’mon. Here comes the airplaaaane…”

Harry looked at you incredulously but eventually gave into your little game. He smilingly allowed you to hand feed him two forkfulls, then pushed his chair further away from the table, patting his left thigh. “Hop on.”

“But– your leg…”

“It’s the good one, c’mon. Do it proper if you’re gonna do it, hm?”

You gave him a pointed look and then plopped yourself in his lap, resuming forking food up to feed to him. 

“Baby, this is incredible. I can’t get over it.”

“Yeah? You truly like it?”

“I love it!” He widened his eyes for emphasis which made you giggle. After a few more forkfulls he insisted you ate some as well, and you didn’t bother switching silverware. You shared his plate and then you got up to get some more of your favorites, and Harry didn’t miss the opportunity to swat your bum teasingly. 

“Apron and all. Hmm. You know, this is starting to make sense now that I’m nourished and can properly take this all in: you were trying to seduce me. You little minx…”

“Is that right?” You plopped yourself back into his lap, scooting in closer to him this time around. 

Harry groaned, squeezing your lovehandle with his arm around your waist. “Alright then. I’ll play your little game. See if it works, hm?”

“We shall see.” you shrugged and he couldn’t resist pulling you in for a kiss before you resumed feeding the both of you.

Harry really did gobble down most of what you’d cooked. You enjoyed it as well, to your surprise. Sure, there was definitely room for improvement but all in all you could consider it a success. One of many, if you felt so inclined, as per Harry’s reiteration at the end of the meal.

You did keep your promise and went to run him a bath. He checked some work on his laptop that you’d retrieved for him while he waited, and then you helped him walk to the master bathroom and get into the tub. You realized it was worse than he was letting on, though, with the way he rested so much of his weight on your shoulders and kept wincing all the way. Harry was definitely not the kind to ever complain about any kind of pain unless it was serious, and while he wasn’t complaining he certainly wasn’t trying to hide the fact that he was in pain either. You loved that about him, the fact that he allowed himself to be vulnerable like that in front of you and not let his masculine ego get in the way.

“Shouldn’t you get it x-rayed?” You sat at the edge of the tub as he soaked blissfully, closing his eyes and getting comfy against the headrest. 

“Don’t be silly, darling. It’s just a sprain. I’ve had plenty. Will keep it elevated for a day or two and I’ll be good as new.”

“I’m not so sure, Harry. I’ve had my ankle sprained plenty of times too but you really look like you’re in pain. And I got a good look at it too and it looks really swollen.”

“Hey, I’m a shower not a grower. You know that.”

You splashed some water at him making him laugh, wiping the suds from his face.

"You're a brave little thing when you know I can't make any sudden movements. But just you wait, hm?"

But you were right. As the evening progressed it got worse, the pain was throbbing and although you helped him to bed and elevated his foot on some throw pillows, his grunts were intensifying.

“You’re so damn stubborn. What’s wrong with going to the ER?”

“I’ll see how I feel in the morning. I just need to sleep it off. Could you remove the pillows though? I feel it’s making it worse somehow.”

“Alright… but I’m getting you some painkillers. Be right back.”

You removed the throw pillows as he requested and went searching for something to help with the pain and swelling. Drugs had different names here, and you had to google some of them from the limited kit you’d gathered since you’d moved. Finally you found something that looked promising and decided to give him a double dosage, lord knows he needed it.

After you brought it to Harry and had him gulp them down with a full glass of water, you cuddled to his side and got comfy before you both resumed your reading. Harry had this habit of reading before bedtime and it grew on you too, and now you enjoyed reading before bed snuggled up together.

You were so engrossed in your book that you didn’t notice Harry dozing off. It was only when you heard his faint little snores that you peeked up at him from under his arm that he kept wrapped around your front as you laid into his side, playing with his fingers you hadn’t noticed going limp either. He looked adorable with his reading glasses that had slid down his nose somewhat, mouth parted slightly and book resting on his chest, moving with his deep breaths. 

You had the sudden urge to kiss him all over, but you knew he needed rest. The fact that he had managed to fall asleep meant the painkillers had kicked in, the last thing you wanted was to wake him up. He needed a good night’s rest to recover.

You carefully slid out of his hold, put your book away and turned your lamp off, then fished his book out of his other hand and placed it on his night stand, reaching over him carefully to turn off his lamp.

Just before you could reach for it, you felt his warm embrace engulf you, his hot, pouty lips sponging a wet kiss to your neck. “Leave it on, want to look at you,” he murmured against your skin.

You chuckled quietly, keeping your voice low, “oh no, big boy. We’re calling it a night. You need your rest, go back to sleep.”

“But you seduced me!” He whined and the pitch of his voice almost made you laugh with how genuine it sounded. You then pulled back a bit to look him in the eye when he kept his arms tight around you, refraining you from turning off the lamp, and took in his appearance. His pupils were dilated to the point where the green in his eyes was barely visible anymore, his cheeks flushed, his lips shiny and pouty, you couldn’t help but give in and kiss him. One kiss, is what you told yourself, one good night kiss and then you’d coax him into going back to sleep but as soon as your lips touched he thrust his tongue inside of your mouth without preamble, the kiss turning heated instantly.

His hands slid down your sides until they reached your ass, squeezing it firmly and then spanking you swiftly. “Little minx. Did you think you could seduce daddy and leave him hanging?”

You could physically feel your panties dampen at that. It didn’t take much for him to work you up, his words as effective as they’d always been. 

“We can’t… your ankle–”

“Plenty of things I can do without having to move much, sweetheart. Hm? How about you put in all the work for once. Take the day off from being such a pillow princess.”

You gasped at that and he bit his lower lip in amusement, his eyes sparkling with mischief at the way his words had gotten just the reaction he’d wanted out of you.

“I beg your finest–”

He spanked you again, hard,  effectively silencing you. “Sure, you can beg. Beg, crawl, cry your little eyes out for daddy to fuck you silly. Let’s start with that, why don’t we?”

You gulped, panting heavily just from the dirty talk and the way he was looking at you. “Please, daddy… I don’t want to hurt you.”

You saw endearment flash over his face before he smirked, erasing any trace of it. “That’s cute, darling. You’re only hurting daddy’s feelings by not trusting me. Do you not trust me, Y/N?”

You nodded dumbly, “of course I do, daddy…”

“Then slide out of those flimsy panties of yours that you call pyjamas and crawl up here.”

You furrowed your brows while you did as instructed, but before you could ask him to clarify, he grabbed at you as he scooted lower on the bed, without so much as wincing so you trusted he was being careful with his movements, manhandling you right where he wanted you: hovering over his face.

“Would you look at that, darling. Made a mess of yourself already.” He blew against your wetness, making you shiver. He ran his hands up and down your ass and back of your thighs, and then spanked you once more. It stung particularly hard now that you were half naked. “Tsk. What am I going to do with you, hm? Kiss you once and you get all wet like a filthy slut. Thought you were being the good little housewife, Y/N. What happened to her, hm? Cooked me a nice meal, ran me a bath, tended to me, sat in bed reading with me. What happened that made her turn into such a filthy little slut for me all of a sudden?”

You whined at his degrading words and how he kept you hovering over his mouth, his nose nudging against your clit as he spoke, barely grazing it but making you squirm every time. 

He spanked you again, making you moan. “Asked you a question Y/N, answer me!”

“I was… you said it yourself, I was… seducing you.”

“You were, weren’t you?” He chuckled lowly. “Could see right through your little act. Doting on your daddy when all you want, really, is for me to fuck you silly in return. Didn’t know I was injured at first, of course… bet you were disappointed, going through all that trouble, not getting anything in return for it, hm?”

“No!” You whined, even though you knew he was just teasing to get a reaction out of you. You enjoyed a bit of degradation in the bedroom and Harry knew just how far to push it without hurting your feelings in earnest. “I did it because I love you, daddy… never want anything in return…”

“Oh yeah? So you’d be okay if I just plopped you back onto bed and kissed your forehead goodnight?’

You wiggled on top of him but he wouldn’t allow you to lower yourself, desperate for his mouth. He chuckled, “thought so. Like I said.. Just a desperate little slut for her daddy…”

“Yes… I am! So what?! Been good… I deserve it! Please, daddy, I’m dripping…”

“Not quite, I’d feel it if you did,” he teased, making you whine pitifully. “Maybe you don’t want it bad enough?”

“I do, I do… please, daddy. Please, please? Just one lick, I’ll prove it. I’ll be so good for you, ride your face just like you like. Let you bury your tongue inside me, get you all messy. Please let me.”

Harry groaned, throwing his head further into his pillow, narrowing his eyes at you. His resolve was crumbling and you knew it. Still, you gave him your best dowe eyes, biting your lower lip and bringing a hand to your tit, squeezing it through the thin crop top you were wearing. 

“Okay.” He tried to keep his voice level but you could hear the slight tremble in it. “Just one lick, better make it good, Y/N.”

You nodded your head enthusiastically, and when he finally allowed you to lower yourself a bit more so he could reach you comfortably, and his tongue swiped between your folds you moaned loudly and sank down all the way against his face, still careful to keep much of your weight on your knees but making sure you were flush against him.

His own moan vibrated against you before spanking you once, twice, three times in the exact same spot, making sure he left a visible handprint for you both to admire for the next few days. 

“Lucky you’ve got such a sweet cunt, sweetheart, otherwise I’d punish you on the spot for that little stunt.” He was panting heavily, barely getting the words out before latching his lips to your clit and sucking intently, alternating between long drags and short little pulsating sucks, and you mewled wantonly above him, desperate for more already.

Harry grabbed your asscheeks and guided you against his mouth, making an absolute mess of himself in the process, your fingers digging into his curls for leverage, the slight pull making him groan in pleasure. You glided against his mouth blissfully, all your inhibitions thrown to the wind; he always knew how to get you there, make you lose yourself in the feel of him to the point where you surrendered to your instincts completely. 

When he finally stuck his tongue inside of you, you threw your head back, and he brought his one hand off your ass to deliver a swift slap against your clit, making it throb deliciously. “Eyes on me, sweetheart. Watch while your man devours your pretty pussy.”

You nodded your head, biting hard on your lower lip. “Just like that, daddy. Lap me up, it’s just for you.”

Harry loved it when you got vocal too. It wasn’t very often, a rare treat, and definitely only had its time and place when Harry wasn’t feeling too dominating. You could tell he loved it with the way he rolled his eyes to the back of his head and ate at you like a man starved. Harry ate pussy much like he kissed, he put his all into it. Wet, sloppy, passionate, intense, you wouldn’t have it any other way. He genuinely loved and craved it and it was driving you absolutely feral.

He grabbed at your hips, detaching you off of his face and spitting right against you before delivering another swift slap. “Turn around. Suck me, show me what a good slut you are for daddy.”

You clumsily did as he ordered and scurried down his body as he manoeuvred you right back over his face, wasting no time before he latched his mouth back onto you. You could barely think while he was doing it, let alone coordinate your movements, but you reached for him blindly and pulled his throbbing cock out of his sweats. He’d forgone underwear, as usual. You loved this angle while giving him head, you could slide him down your throat much easier this way. Which is exactly what you did, as soon as you licked all over his length ensuring proper lubrication, making him thrust up in surprise and gagging you.

“Fuck!” He added two fingers into the mix, either to apologise or reward you, you couldn’t tell, curling them right against your g-spot, to which he also had easy access from that angle. You slowed your movements, breathing in deeply through your nose and moaning around him, making him grunt and speed up his fingers, replacing them with his tongue, fucking you with it for a bit as he rubbed at your clit with the same fingers coated in your juices, then pushing them right back inside. He kept alternating between his tongue and his fingers and you were right on the verge of a delicious orgasm, but you tried to stave it off, wanted to get him there too before you gave into the pleasure and you knew you wouldn’t be able to work him as effectively.

You toyed with his balls and you sucked him just the way he liked, and you did notice he was trying his best not to thrust up again, but you weren’t sure if he was doing it to refrain from straining his leg or just for your sake. He loved it when you chocked on him, which is why you did it again, holding him in the back of your throat for longer this time and swallowing around him.

“Fuck, just like that, baby. Take it. Take it all.”

He added a third finger and you knew you couldn’t hold off much longer. Harry could tell too, knowing your telltale signs by heart by now. “Don’t bother coming if you’re not going to drench me, Y/N. I mean it,” he warned. “Either you squirt all over my face or hold it until you do. Gonna be a good girl for daddy and give me what I want?”

He could feel your head bobbing as you tried your best to nod while he stuffed your mouth, and with one final push to the back of your throat you felt him shaking beneath you, his whole body tensing before he shot his cum right down your throat. You pull off a bit and sucked just the tip, his warm release flooding your mouth and making you spill some too as he came violently. 

“Good girl…. Good fucking girl, Y/N…” he regained his composure slowly, resuming his vigorous pumps. “Sucked me dry, now let me have it. Fucking come for me, do it, right into my mouth, right now!”

The dam broke and you swore you were happier not to have disappointed him than to actually finally reach your peak. He groaned and moaned all throughout, sticking his tongue inside you again and licking you up and all around until you collapsed entirely on top of him and he knew you were spent and done for.

He helped you off of him, gentle at first but then he grabbed at you and made you hover over him for a heated kiss before you could plop to his side and fall right asleep like you usually did after he’d make you squirt like this.

“Did so good for me, darling, the best slutty housewife, aren’t you? Complete package, making me so happy. Daddy loves you so much, sweetheart.”

You mumbled something unintelligible against his mouth, as he kept peppering your face with kisses, praising you and caressing you tenderly. 

“Wanted you to ride me, but we’ll save that for another day. Have a feeling I should be resting tomorrow as well, make a full recovery.”

You groaned in protest and he laughed at your cute reaction, knowing full well how much you actually enjoyed riding him. You weren’t a pillow princess at all, and you both knew it. Harry just enjoyed dominating you too much for it to happen that often. 

But little did he know, that’s exactly how you were planning to wake him up in the morning. You were determined to take full advantage of this opportunity to dote on him in every way. He was sure to sleep in after all the physical activity and his body really did need rest. You made sure to bring a damp towel and clean up the both of you before you went to sleep, checked to see if the swelling on his ankle had gone down (it hadn’t), and then cuddled into his side making sure he’d sleep face up and not move around in his sleep much.

You woke up smilingly, realizing it was still early enough and Harry would sleep unperturbed for another hour naturally.

You slid out of bed carefully, tiptoed around the room to gather your phone and then quietly made your way to the kitchen where you googled the recipe for crêpes suzette. You grimaced as you took in how difficult they were to make. They were a favourite of Harry’s, so you willed yourself not to be discouraged. 

You kept glancing at the kitchen clock, time went on and it was taking forever, you hoped Harry would not wake up to the smell of it (it did smell quite amazing to be honest), or to the accidental loud noises you made whenever you dropped an utensil clumsily.

You were no housewife, that was for sure, even after all that experience waitressing, but cooking was Harry’s expertise. You’d made him proud the night before though, waiting for him with homemade dinner, prompting you further to do your best and spoil him a bit, especially now that he was prone to be a bit grouchy. Harry hated feeling incapacitated in any way, he rarely fell ill but when he did he tried to hide it until it was inevitable, never wanting to appear weak in front of you. He allowed himself to be vulnerable and pour his heart out to you entirely, but when it came to his physical capabilities, the man had one big ego.

You smirked to yourself in anticipation of his reaction later on. With still some time to spare, you showered in the guest bathroom, smiling when you returned into the kitchen with Harry nowhere in sight and the fragrant smell of oranges all around. You took his favourite bourbon vanilla icecream out of the freezer, scooping some out and plating it on top of the crêpes. 

You quietly made your way back into the master bedroom, Harry sleeping soundly still. Part of you felt like maybe you should let him sleep in some more, but then your plan would go to waste and sure, he’d still appreciate the crêpes, but your surprise wouldn’t be complete if you did.

You carefully placed the plate on his nightstand and then eyed the way he was tenting the duvet. Harry usually slept in the nude, not all of the time, but certainly always after sex. Removing the duvet as slowly as possible as to not wake him up, you felt your mouth water at the sight of his delicious length just waiting there, ready to fill you up and stretch you just right, in one way or another. You took off your robe you’d worn out of the shower, letting it pool to your feet and leaving you stark naked. You’d made sure to use his favourite body wash, even complete with the body oil from the same set he’d gifted you a while back. Your skin was glowy in the soft morning light, the sun barely peeking through the windows.

Carefully, you straddled him. What you really wanted was to slide right onto him. And you could’ve, you’d both woken the other up like this plenty of times. It was something you both enjoyed, especially in the middle of the night.

But for what you had in mind, you avoided his length that kept twitching tantalisingly in his sleep, and instead straddled his navel right below his butterfly tattoo.

You bent down to kiss him gently, your hands caressing his face and his body softly as you did so. Harry moaned awake, not in the least surprised to feel you on top of him for a split second, almost as though he’d been dreaming of this very scenario.

When he came to his senses fully his eyes widened, and his kiss deepened, his arms coming around you and his cock pushing into your backside.

“Morning, baby.”

Harry beamed at you, placing a strand of your hair behind your ear delicately. “Morning, my little love.” He kissed you again, humming against your lips. He made to flip you over but, flexing his leg muscles he was quickly reminded of his injury and he groaned in pain, tightening his hold on you.

“Fuck! I’d forgotten all about that for a moment there…”

You winced at his pained reaction, wishing you would’ve reminded him about it before he could try and move. “Is it as bad?”

Harry puffed his cheeks, exhaling loudly. “It’s… bad.”

“Oh my baby… I’m so sorry. Here, I have something for you to make it all better, hm?”

Harry relaxed his features at that and pulled back a bit to take you all in. “I’d say… fuck, you gorgeous woman. Want me to have a heart attack to make me forget all about my sprained ankle, huh? Interesting approach.”

You chuckled, biting on your lower lip at the compliment shily. “Even better.” You reached over and grabbed the plate, presenting it to him proudly.

Harry sat up a bit, leaning on his elbows. “Have I actually died and gone to heaven, then? Skipped right through that heart attack.”

You giggled, using your spare hand to prop some pillows behind him so he could sit comfortably back against them. 

“Do you know what it is?”

“My favourites. Crêpes suzette. Bloody hell, did you actually make these yourself?”

You beamed at him, all proud and happy with his genuinely surprised reaction. “Yes I did. Just for you. Know you like them, wanted to pamper you a bit.”

“Smells incredible.” He let his hands roam your body freely, stopping at your breasts and kneading them with just the right amount of pleasure. “You’re incredible. Kiss me.”

You leaned over, the plate to the side and out of the way. “I love you.”

He smiled against your lips and his hands moved down your spine to your waist, deepening the kiss, but you pulled back, straightening.

“Fill me up, daddy.”

Harry groaned, not wasting any time in aiding you sink down his cock. You clenched around him, trying to adjust and Harry squeezed your hips until it hurt a bit with how much he was refraining from thrusting into you until you relaxed around him.

You shifted forward a bit, making him moan and brought the plate back between the two of you, slicing up a bite and bringing the fork to his lips. 

Harry watched between heavy lids as you licked your lips in anticipation as if you were the one about to have a bite. Just as you fed it to him, you grinded against him, making him squeeze your hips even harder as his eyes widened in ecstasy. You did it again, only moving as you fed him a bit more of the crêpes. Harry was losing it. “I’m gonna come so hard. You’re blowing my mind. My senses are in overdrive.”

You hummed proudly. “Good.” You finally had a bite yourself and moaned around the fork. You couldn’t believe how good it turned out and that you’d actually made this from scratch. Well, aside from the ice cream. Speaking of which, Harry scooped some using his finger and painted it all over your tit, then sat up straighter to lick it all up and then suck it into his mouth greedily.

Between the two of you, you managed to finish the crêpes in record timing, orange syrup dripping between the two of you, Harry lapping it all off of you as he worked you over his body. He couldn’t use his legs for this so it was really up to you to pick up the pace, and you didn’t disappoint. You knew your thighs would burn for days afterwards but you rode him like you stole him. Thankfully, you’d both gotten quite worked up and reached your peeks in record timing. Harry didn’t even get to use his dirty mouth all that much, that’s how fast you got there.

“That was… a whole other level of pleasure.” He pulled you flush against him, both of you panting heavily.

“That worked out better than even I imagined,” you giggled.

“You’re full of surprises these days, aren’t you, sweetheart?” He caressed up and down your spine with featherlight touches. “I’m so lucky. Don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“I’m the lucky one.”

Harry tightened his hold around you. “Sometimes it feels like my heart is gonna burst, that’s how happy you make me, you know that? Just another way to get me to that heart attack, I’m onto you, you know.”

You laughed lightly against his chest. “Oh no, you caught me.” You wanted to make another joke about your age gap but refrained, knowing his ego was already bruised more than his ankle was.

Harry swatted your bum playfully, almost as if reading your mind, the both of you laughing at how his fingers stuck to your skin in doing so. “How about you go run us another bath, love? I can feel us glueing together with that orange syrup.”

You reached to kiss him once more before pulling away. Didn’t bother covering up as you went and ran the bath, then took a good look at yourself in the mirror. You looked thoroughly fucked and radiant. You knew just what Harry was referring to when he said his heart felt like it was going to burst with happiness because you felt the exact same way.

By the time you made your way back into the bedroom, Harry was fast asleep again. You took in the sight of him, deciding to give him an extra hour before you woke him up again for your bath, just another way of pampering him. 

Slipping the bathrobe back on, you made your way back into the kitchen after turning off the tap in the bathroom to make some coffee, already thinking of convincing him to at least let you cockwarm him in the tub later.

Not even the harsh reality of all the dishes you had to clean wasn’t enough to swipe off that smile off your face. You’d never been happier. 

You were home.

Daddy issues- Masterlist

A/N: sooooo. i fully set out to write a subby DI harry based on this request. but in the end, daddy dom harry won. sorry not sorry lol. he won't be tamed😩

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here💌

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[lilystyles]

wildest dreams.

part two of style, written by @lilystyles

my masterlist & style masterlist

authors note the very requested part two of style. i got lots of asks & reblogs & comments asking for more of style!H so i decided to write one for y'all. thanks for all the love on it. also there was one ask i got with the idea of y/n going on a blind date and i LOVED it so thank u anon 🩷

brief description y/n and harry start to see each other more and more. but it's a secret, things get complicated when emma sets y/n up on a blind date. harry doesn’t like it one bit.

warnings! slight age gap, SMUT (f!receiving, fingering, daddy kink, missionary, riding, very slight breeding kink, no condom, all the good stuff) sexual tension, mentions of drugs&alcohol abuse. wordcount: (around 15k words)

fratboy!older!bffsbrother!harry x younger!innocent!reader

* * * * *

Harry arrived at Y/n’s massive and buzzing share house almost twenty minutes before eight.

He’d parked his car nearby and quietly realised to himself on the walk up the driveway that he’d never actually been inside the sharehouse before. He had dropped her off a fair few times and picked her up a handful from here but Y/n preferred to come stay at his place. He couldn’t blame her, Niall’s place was similar he lived in one of the frats nearby campus. His room and the house were disgusting and Harry much preferred his clean quiet house with his sister. Even though Harry was in a frat too, he lived out of the house. The only reason those guys had welcomed him into the frat in the first place was because he was on the Uni soccer team and he was really good. His room was turned into a storage room for alcohol, dartboards, and bongs. Harry had hooked up with a few girls in there regardless of the lack of bed.

He felt a funny feeling in his tummy walking up the driveway, since when did he get nervous? He’d been with so many people he didn’t think that existed for him anymore. But this was different, this wasn’t just anyone this was Y/n. His Y/n. The girl from home.

He looked up at the house biting his lip, Y/n’s place certainly wasn’t as trashy as Alpha Chi Sigma, thankfully. Hers was a little ways off campus it was this old run-down brick house with two stories and eight rooms. It was jam-packed with students and actually threw quite a few parties, known on campus for its great big backyard and one of Y/n’s roommate Mike's weed brownies. Y/n didn’t care all that much when parties happened, she’d either invite Emma and they’d have lots of tequila and end up asleep in Y/n’s room, or she might even invite Harry and his mates too just for fun. Otherwise she just locked her room and escaped to the library or the Styles’ place. 

As Harry reached the big red door he knocked loudly and a short girl opened the door before his knuckles had even retracted back to his side. He recognised her from his Economics class, he thought. She was in some pyjamas and looked up very confused.

“You're not the Chinese guy.” She said eyeing him annoyedly, groans escaped the mouths of others inside, and he could understand their disappointment. “Who are you?”

This made Harry feel suddenly rather guilty for not being the Chinese delivery guy and he frowned, “I’m Harry, ‘m a friend of Y/n’s?”

“Upstairs third door to your left.” She said shortly opening the door wide enough to let him in before promptly sitting back down on the couch with a bunch of other students, they were watching what looked like a Japanese horror film. 

Harry shut the door behind him and made his way upstairs quickly, Y/n’s roommates didn’t seem all that friendly, he hoped was going in the right direction. As he reached the top of the stairs he heard music coming from one room that sounded like a rave and knew that definitely wasn’t Y/n’s room, he heard people chatting away in another, and when he was at the third door he saw a small sign on the door that said ‘Y/n’s Room <3’. He smiled at the familiar neat handwriting that was on so many birthday cards in his collection, and knocked on the door, with a few quick taps.

He heard some shuffling behind the door and it wasn’t long before the door swung open. There she was, his Y/n. Even though he’d only seen her a few hours ago it felt like a long time ago now. How did he already miss her?

“You're here early, Styles.” She said surprised checking the time on her phone in her hand. Harry didn’t seem the type to show up early, and normally he didn’t Y/n knew that about him from years of experience. He was even late to his own birthday parties and if you asked a single person who had hooked up with him they’d say he was always late when they invited him over. Just his way. He wasn’t a timely person.

Harry smiled down at her form, she looked much more rested than this morning. She had taken a nap for a good portion of the morning and a long shower cleaning every inch of herself, she felt very rejuvenated now. The warm water had soothed her aching muscles and small bruises that littered her body from last night. She’d washed off all the sweat and alcohol that had sweated out of her this morning, and her hangover had eased, thank god. She had taken some aspirin for her head too and drank lots and lots of water. 

She looked so soft and cosy, the golden light of her room hit her face, showing all the angles of her calm expression. She was wearing this matching tracksuit set that was a blue almost grey colour, and some fuzzy pink socks Emma bought her for Christmas last year. Her hair was freshly washed, dried, and styled in her usual way. Her beautiful face was bare of makeup only some moisturiser that smelt really good, and her lips were covered in a glossy lip balm.

“Wanted to make a good impression, Babe.” He said smirking. 

Y/n let him join her inside shaking her head, it was very unlike him to be on time and she’d expected he would arrive around 8:30 instead of 8. He placed his bag of snacks and DVDs down onto her little bed taking in the space. 

Her room was so her, she had this big mattress on the floor that took up most of her room. Her sheets were mismatched shades of pink, blue, and lavender and she had about a dozen pillows. She had lots of fairy lights strung up, posters, and photos covering her walls. Her mattress and little desk by her window near the back of the room took up most of the small space. But if she had picked a bigger room that meant having a roommate so she didn’t mind all that much.

It was quite neat in here. She had all her desk organised with her laptop and textbooks. Her cupboard had somehow miraculously shut despite the large array of clothes stuffing it. She had a candle burning that smelt like cinnamon cookies, but underneath the candle was the underlying smell of her. Whether that was her laundry detergent or something that was just her, Harry didn’t know, but the smell brought him great comfort.

He shrugged off his big thick coat too, the day had turned into a windy-rainy one and he wanted to stay warm, but Y/n’s room was very warm inside. He was in an ashen grey hoodie with red flannel over the top, some black jeans and sneakers. His hair was unruly as always but he looked extra good today. He made himself comfortable on the bed grabbing a pink bear and cuddling it to his chest playfully. He dwarfed her bed with his tall form, and he looked so funny sitting in her bed. Harry Styles, sex god, player, and party animal, with a rotten attitude, was curled up in her bed. She almost wanted to take a picture to show people, but she knew she wouldn’t be telling a soul about him being with her tonight.

“I’ve known you for years I already have all the impressions needed, Harry.”

He looked over at her from her bed. “Yeah, but you’ve never seen me on a date before, have yeh? I can be wholesome.”

What? This is a date? 

Y/n blushed deeply, if she’d known that this was a date she would have dressed a bit nicer. She was just in some joggers and a hoodie, but to be fair to her they were her nice ones. The ones lacking ice cream stains and holes. Harry had seen her looking like a hungover mess, he’d seen her in the middle of the night at the library, he’d seen her with the flu, and she never looked bad even at her worst.

“This is a date?” She asked looking down at her sock-covered feet.

She’d been dreaming of this day since she was a kid when Harry had helped her when she fell off her bike and scraped her knee. She still remembered the day vividly, it was something she thought of every time they all went home to Holmes Chapel for the holidays or summertime, and they drove passed the playground. She still had the scar their on her right knee, even now. And she remembers Harry putting the bandaid on for her and kissing her knee to ‘take the pain away’. Every time she felt the little bump or saw the lighter patch of skin on her knee she thought of him kissing it. She’d stopped crying after he’d done that and from that day on, her heart belonged to him. 

She thought if they ever did somehow end up together on a date, that’d he would take her for a drive or they’d go to the cinema. Something normal. Maybe even a romantic stroll somewhere or something wild like skinny dipping. But instead here he was in her room making himself at home in her little bed where she’d spent hours thinking of him; before her eyes finally allowed her to sleep.

He laughed at her shy expression, patting a spot on the bed beside him for her to sit. “Wasn’t I obvious about that?”

She sat down beside him, laughing at herself she didn’t know much when it came to dating, she’d only had two or so boyfriends. She’d tried the one-night stand thing once but it wasn’t for her. She didn’t know dating etiquette. So she was all stiff beside him now feeling even more nervous than before he’d arrived. This whole thing with Harry frankly didn’t feel real, she’d liked him for so many years and only now was he starting to show similar feelings toward her, it honestly tripped her out a lot. It would be like your celebrity crush showing up at your door with flowers, a bit of a dream, right?

“Not to me.” She said looking at him. He smelt deliciously good beside her, and she wanted to devour him.

He looked over at her with the same eyes he’d given her in the kitchen when she’d comforted him, all soft and molten like an ice cream on a hot day. As he lifted his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, she leaned into his touch, his hand was so warm and smooth against her face. He was so gentle with her and she felt her mind flashback to last night for what felt like the millionth time when his hands were all over her body. Though they’d been a bit wild, he was always gentle with her unless she asked him otherwise.

“Well I’m sorry, but this is a date, is that alright with you?” He asked, nibbling his bottom lip to contain a smile. She was just so cute, sitting there in front of him like a doe-eyed little thing. You’d have thought that she barely knew him with how she was acting.

She nodded. “Fine by me.” 

“Good to hear, Baby.” He sighed at her because she still seemed very nervous. He didn’t know how to comfort her other than touch. “Why are you so far away? You know I don’t bite, not unless you ask me to.”

She looked over at him, “I’m just nervous, I guess. If my fourteen-year-old self could see me now…”

She didn’t finish her sentence.

This made his heart swell. “You're nervous around me? Even after everything we did last night?”

She shrugged like that was an obvious conclusion. “Well, yeah…of course.”

This made him throw his head back laughing, like a little kid. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous too. S’okay to be nervous. But don’t worry it’s just me. Nothing special.”

That made her feel better, she looked up at him, a smile cracking on her face. “You're nervous too?”

He nodded. “Of course I am. I’m on a date with a gorgeous girl, I’d be a fool not to be.”

Y/n pecked his cheek in response, her lips smearing against the tiny stubble on his cheek, as she quickly moved away and opened the bag excitedly to see the things he’d brought. He brought snacks as requested all their favourites (peanut M&Ms, popcorn, and a tub of Ben & Jerry’s) along with a few DVDs. The one he had been raving about was in there and she grabbed it putting it on the very small telly she had by the end of her bed.

Harry explained a story about how he went to three different grocery shops to find the peanut M&Ms because apparently, the world was in a shortage today. This made Y/n want to kiss him because he’d gone to all that effort knowing Y/n’s favourite movie snack was M&Ms. Whenever they went to the cinema she always got them, and the three of them would go a fair amount. They loved going late at night and talking loudly in empty cinemas about how cheesy the films were. 

She looked at him from the edge of the bed. He’d kicked his sneakers off into the corner and he was resting on her bed, head lying on her pillow, a knitted blanket over his lap. He looked very comfy and at ease, and honestly, he was. The smell of her bed was comforting and the soft tone of her voice was soothing. Y/n had a way of driving him crazy, usually when her attention wasn’t on him, but a way of calming him instantly when their eyes met.

“You hungry? I want pizza.” She asked brows pinched in thought.

He nodded grabbing his phone to call them. “Sure. Joeys?”

“I think I want a ha—”

“Hawaiin with no pineapple, I know, you freak. Who doesn’t like pineapple?”

“Me.” She said. She’d never really noticed how observant Harry was until now. He knew her pizza order, he knew she liked peanut M&Ms, he knew her chamomile tea brand, and he knew she liked popcorn extra buttery. Which happens when you have history like they do, but she never thought he cared that much. So what if she knew he liked pepperoni with extra spice? She was obsessed with him for most of her adolescence, that made sense. But why did Harry know that? She was the obsessed one.

“Hey mate, yeah can I get a large Hawaiin no pineapple please, and large pepperoni extra spicy, and a loaf of garlic bread too thanks.” He said into the phone. 

Y/n told Harry her address in a hushed tone and he parroted it to the pizza guy on the phone. The pizza would arrive in 20 minutes from now, so Y/n joined his side happily and hit play on the telly. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder so she could rest against his side, and it all felt very domestic. Her cheek was resting against him and she felt her eyes drooping even though she’d already napped today.

Y/n normally cuddled with Emma and watched movies on her shoulder while Harry brooded on the leather recliner and complained when the girls picked a rom-com of some kind. But she saw him cry during The Notebook last month. He always said Spiderman was his favourite movie but she knew it was actually The Notebook.

She felt guilty at the thought of her best friend, and a pang in her tummy. Normally if a guy had even made eye contact with her Y/n was blowing up her phone with every detail, that’s what best friends are for. But she couldn’t tell her about Harry. They’d stop being friends. Emma and Y/n had many friends who had come and gone because of Harry, she didn’t blame any of them for shagging him. He’s always been attractive and shaggable, but she knew better than to get with him then and she didn’t know what had done it but lately, he’d just been irresistible last night and right now. 

Maybe back then she just had more self-control. Y/n remembers a girl named Cami the most. She and Harry hooked up once drunkenly at a party Gemma had thrown while Anne and Robin were away and the next morning Emma and Y/n walked in on her giving him a blowie. Cami was then banned from any other sleepover. Which was a shame because Cami was super nice, it made Y/n wonder if those years of friendship protected her from Emma’s harsh banishment or if that didn’t count. 

“What are you thinkin’ about?” He asked her playing with the strands of loose hair resting against his arm.

She looked up at him away from the telly she’d zoned out on. “I- Em.” She said.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I knew it would be something you’d be thinking about.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I just- she’s gonna hate me, H. I want you, but you know I can’t.”

Harry knew Emma was Y/n’s number one person and they were basically like sisters, Y/n was a part of his family, though he’d never seen her in a particularly brotherly way. She came on holidays overseas with them, she was invited to family dinners, and they’d even had a Christmas Eve together a few times in the past couple of years. And that wasn’t something he would ever try and get in the way of, Y/n being there was what made him want to attend. Because he loved that Y/n was a part of his life in that way and he’d grown up with her, he loved having her around. He cherished those moments and even though he didn’t act like it, he would miss her when she wasn’t there. Last Christmas Eve she was with her Grandparents and he’d hated playing Scrabble without her.

She had no idea of any of his true feelings. Which was his own fault, he knew that, he was purposefully rude to Y/n to keep her at arm's length, and acting like she didn’t exist to try and suffocate his feelings from her. Emma was behind that, ever since he could remember he wasn’t allowed to share Y/n. Emma was always reminding him when his eyes lingered on her longer than they should, that Y/n was Emma’s best friend, off limits. And despite how he felt about her he’d listened to keep Y/n out of the drama of Emma’s wrath. 

But Harry cared for Y/n very deeply and he wished Emma wasn’t so weird about it. Why couldn’t they both just share her? And anyway, it was Y/n’s decision, not Emma’s. She wasn't a toy she was a person, who made her own decisions whether or not Emma approved. Normally Emma’s judgement was the only thing Y/n needed to make a decision, but when it came to Harry she had to disagree.

And anyway, she seemed pretty happy to be wrapped up in his arms right now, despite knowing what trouble it would cause if anyone found out. She knew it was wrong to lie, and hide, but she didn't think it was wrong be around Harry. That's what felt right.

“I know she doesn’t like people getting involved with me.” He began, “But that’s only because they always get hurt by me and it becomes a whole thing. But I would never hurt you.”

His reassuring words made her feel better but she looked up at him, with one more worry. “How is this any different than you and Cami, Lacey, or Tiffany—” She was about to continue her long list of girls but he cut her off.

“Because you're the only one for me.”

Y/n was about to ask him what he meant by that but the doorbell rang. “That’s probably pizza.” 

She sat up and left before he could say anything else. 

She was happy to be with him and she enjoyed his company and his cuddles but this whole thing scared her a lot. There were a lot of risks in going down this path with him and she was painfully aware of all the risks, she knew every single one and the reason she hadn’t gotten with him before now was because she knew it was dangerous for her to get involved with such a gorgeous devilish creature. 

Don’t get her wrong she trusted Harry with her life. But that doesn’t mean she trusted him when it came to his relationships. He’d never had a girlfriend, all the girls thought they were his girlfriends but he never saw any of them as more than a shag. Which is fine, but she knew she couldn’t be satisfied with just a shag. Her heart was too soft for that boy to only want his dick.

When Y/n came back with the warm pizzas burning her hands Harry was sleepily cuddling her bear in bed and she felt her heart melt and let her thoughts melt away too. They ate the pizza in bed and all worries were washed away as they distracted themselves with Y/n’s favourite film. When Harry Met Sally. 

Harry remembered the countless times this movie was on at midnight when he came downstairs to see Y/n asleep on his couch using it to tune out Emma’s snores.

Her eyes stung with sleep as she watched tonight, it comforted her, and the smell of Harry and the gentle sound of his heartbeat lulled her to sleep. She fell asleep quickly into the movie and Harry only noticed when he was getting no replies from her during his complaints about how cheesy and unrealistic this movie was. When he realised she was asleep right there on his chest he stopped talking and moving; wanting to let her sleep there. He grabbed the knitted blanket from the bottom of their legs and brought it to just below her chin. 

Kissing her forehead before focusing back on the movie. He thought Meg Ryan was pretty fit and the gentle breathing of Y/n was calming, it wasn’t long until he fell asleep too holding her very close to him. Not a worry about being caught, or oversleeping, just enjoyed the warmth of her body and the soft breaths that hit his neck.

It was a couple weeks later until Harry saw Y/n again and he hated to admit it to himself that he missed her, more than he’d ever missed anyone and it had just been a few days. She wasn't even his girlfriend, and she was already driving him up the wall.

She’d called him that afternoon and it brought out something in Harry he’d never expected to find within himself.

Harry was not a jealous person. He wasn’t possessive at all. Never had been and he never thought he would be. It just wasn’t who he was. He always thought it was because he just never had those feelings within him, he just didn’t care. He thought jealousy was stupid. What good came from it? Jealousy never accomplished anything.

He didn’t care if the people he’d been with had moved on or gotten with someone else, one time a girl he’d had a bit of a fling with for the Summer ended up hooking up with his best friend and he truly didn’t care. Like at all. They expected him to get angry, shout, or stop talking to them at least. But he didn’t he just shrugged and said something about how he understood. He found someone else to spend the night with quickly after their conversation, and when someone brought it up he completely forgot it had even happened, which shows how little he cared.

He just never got jealous, and it was something he felt was beneath him. Since he saw sex as such a casual and easygoing thing to him, he felt like he belonged to everyone and no one all at once and so he saw people as all the same. It was all just a blur of people and feelings. He was lucky, he never got sad after sex or disgusted he just felt a release, left, and that was that. He didn’t like to chat all that much, he was a fuck and leave kind of guy. If the person really needed a cuddle or some aftercare he wouldn’t just leave right away but he knew cuddling usually meant feelings growing, so he tried to avoid that at all costs too. Which to some was just awful to be around, and he could understand that too. Sometimes people wanted a connection that wasn’t just compatible kinks or sexual chemistry. Something deeper, love, burning lust, tenderness. That’s not to say Harry wasn’t a good lover, he was great no matter the person he could click well with them. He made them feel like they were the only two people in the world, but there was still a bit of a shadow to his love-making that made the people know that’s all it was.

Just a fuck, just a kiss, just an orgasm. Nothing more, nothing less.

He’d heard or read about people having sex that felt like fireworks or magic or something ridiculous and sappy and he’d thought it was all blown out of proportion. Sex was more primal and animalistic to Harry. It wasn’t something otherworldly. It was like eating, sleeping, or breathing. It was just a natural human experience and urge, and people needed it to survive a healthy life. It wasn’t tied to any emotions, just like eating a sandwich at lunch. Wasn’t anything to be ashamed of either.

And it certainly wasn’t ethereal, or at least it wasn’t until Y/n.

He hadn’t felt so connected with someone like that ever. In conversation, in sex, in life. She understood him, she accepted him, and despite their differences, it worked. And god, when they had sex it was just so time-stopping. Touching her was like touching heaven.

His jealousy, his attraction, made him realise he liked her. Like actually liked her, and that if this was what liking someone was that meant he never had before. He’d never liked anyone except her. 

He’d never wanted to date someone, take care of them, and be with them without having to do anything. Just be together, you know?

Harry wanted to date Y/n, take care of her, and just be with her. The unfamiliar feelings rolled through his skin like a tidal wave. All these feelings were new to him, and it meant he didn’t know how to act. It was overwhelming and he didn’t know who to confide in.

Because now all of a sudden he was a jealous person? It just didn’t make sense. None of it did. 

When he found out Emma had set Y/n up on a double date with her and Zayn, Harry was not one bit okay with it. He couldn’t have cared less if someone he’d been with fucked his best friend in front of him, but the idea of someone thinking they could talk to Y/n made his skin crawl. Someone getting to touch her like she’d let him, someone getting to kiss her sweet lips, whisper filth in her ear? He hated it. He hated the thought. 

Jealousy burned his skin like wildfire and he didn’t know what to do. He knew Y/n wasn’t his girlfriend, but they’d been on a date now which meant more to him than any other interaction with any girl he’d ever had. It had been a perfect first date that eventually led to her falling asleep in his arms and him playing with her hair as he memorised every freckle on her face. They both woke up the next morning with a giggle and she walked him to his car her hand in his, and to his surprise kissed him against the hood of his car. It was enough to have him dazed and wanting more, her lips smeared against his excitedly with an innocent giggle. When she pulled away she whispered a breathless goodbye and he hadn’t seen her since.

They’d called a few times and chatted until the early hours of the morning about anything and everything, and he’d seen her at his house a few times. But he wasn’t allowed to act how he wished because Emma was always there, he’d always call Y/n when she was home complaining about how he wished things were different. But since neither of them knew what was going on yet they knew it was best to not tell her.

Y/n didn’t want to go on this double date. She couldn’t think of anything worse. Zayn’s friend Peter was a notorious prick on campus. He was just straight-up horrible and so jarring on the senses. They’d met here and there and Niall hated him too which was enough for Y/n to know everything she needed about the bloke.

Y/n was pretty sure no one liked him, not even Zayn. But Y/n agreed for Emma’s sake. She knew Emma really liked Zayn (or so she said) and this was one of ‘the only ways their date would happen’. But that didn’t make her not want to go any less. She called Harry as soon as Emma left her place to get ready. 

He answered on the third ring.

“Hi, Baby.”

She could practically hear his smile. Things were going well for them. She thought the shift from whatever they once were to this would be awkward but it was easy. They were still teasing, and rude, but the words hardly had any edge anymore. Even when she swore at him it felt like a kiss and now when he stared at her Y/n noticed the softness in his eyes. Had that always been there?

“Hey, Styles.”

He sighed softly sitting down on his couch, “And to what do I owe this pleasure, Y/n?”

“Some bad news.”

He sucked a breath, “What’s wrong?” His voice melted into her spine, and he sounded worried. He was thinking the worst, and though this was pretty shitty it was nothing like he was thinking. He hoped she was okay.

“You know I like you, right?”

He nodded but forgot she couldn’t see. “Yes, I like you too, what is it?”

“I’m sorry, H, but I didn’t know how to say no without blowing our cover…” She said avoiding saying it. She didn’t know how he would react. He’d been so lovely, she didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“Spit it out, Trouble.” He said.

“Emma begged me to go on a double date so she could be with Zayn.” She said pinching her eyes shut and practically wincing on the other line.

“And what did you say?”

“I said yes, I’m sorry,”

Harry felt a pang of jealousy rush into his chest unfamiliarly. But he didn’t want to make her feel bad. He knew she hadn’t meant to hurt him. She sounded so guilty over the line, he was just glad she couldn’t see him. He was embarrassingly jealous. He felt winded as his hand moved up to his chest, squeezing where the pain was. Normally he always knew the right things to say, but he struggled to find the words. He was just pissed.

Emma, totally got in the way time and time again. It’s like she was out to sabotage them. He wanted to tell her off, but he knew better. Y/n would be mad if he did that.

“It’s fine, we only went on one date.” He said, but it didn’t come out like he wanted. He wanted to sound aloof and fine. But his voice came out forced.

Y/n sighed, he was right they had only been on one date. But she felt that it had meant more to her than any other dates she’d been on. And she was sure it would mean way more than this stupid date. “I know. But I wanted to tell you that I don’t like Peter. I hate that guy actually, he’s a fuckin’ prick….” 

Harry despised Peter. Even more now. He got to be with Y/n all pretty in public on a date, Harry knew no one would treat her as well as he could. Harry knew what she wanted. What did Peter know?

“...But Emma asked me. And if I’d have said I was seeing someone else, involved in something serious, she would have drilled me like a Russian spy. You know that it’s very surprising for me to be seeing someone, she wouldn’t have let it go.”

Something serious. His heart swelled despite it all.

Harry let out a small laugh, “It’s okay, Y/n, really.”

“I don’t want to go, but it’s only for a few hours. Can I call you after?”

This made him smile, despite how pissed he was she was so cute. “Yeah, ‘course.”

“Okay, good, well I have to get ready, Styles, talk soon.” She said.

“Bye, Trouble” He hung up and his hands itched to do something. But he knew he couldn’t do anything he’d just have to wait for her call. The whole thing made him antsy. 

Just as he hung up Emma walked through the front door. She was holding some shopping bags.

“What are you up to?” He asked. They looked like clothes and shoes.

She looked over with a smile. “Me and Y/n have a double date.”

He acted surprised standing up, “Oh yeah? With who?”

“Zayn and Peter.” She said walking to her room and Harry followed, wanting to know more details he’d been too afraid to ask Y/n.

“When?”

“Tonight, at seven,” Emma replied quickly hands looking through her racks of dresses, eyes far from Harry who had sat himself on her bed.

“Where?” He prodded.

She looked over, “What is this? 21 questions? Why do you care?”

“I’m not allowed to be interested in your life? Gosh, forgive me caring, Em.”

She rolled her eyes. “I thought we’d grown out of the protective thing?”

“I just worry about you two. Boys are pigs.”

Emma sighed. “You would know.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“We’ll be fine. It’s just at Andy’s Burgers. It’s super close to Y/n’s place. And your friends with those guys, you know they aren’t serial killers.”

His lips curled in disgust as his jaw clenched and defended himself. “Zayn is fine. Peter is not my friend at all. I hate him. He’s such a stupid twat. I don’t understand why would Y/n go out with him.”

Emma turned around her hands landing on her hips. “Because he’s hot and he’s supposed to have a big dick.”

This made Harry’s jaw clench hard. Peter better not try anything with Y/n, or he’d rip that dick off. “Why would Y/n care about something like that? Doesn’t she like guys with actual brain cells? Doesn't sound like her.”

Emma squinted, her brows pinching. “Like who, mate? It really is none of your business, Harry, we don’t question your awful taste. Anyway, I don’t see why you care? Y/n can get with whoever she wants.”

This made Harry’s stomach curl. No, she couldn’t. She could only be with him. He wanted her all to himself. No one was worthy of her, not even himself, but at least Y/n wanted him. She didn’t want Peter. She’d just told him he was a prick, she couldn’t want him.

Harry didn’t want anyone else, and he’d turned down a plethora of women and men since that night with Y/n in his bed. He’d avoided telling her that, to avoid upsetting her. He sat up, annoyed and beginning to feel his mind go on a loop of bad thoughts of Y/n with other people. Y/n kissing another boy. God, it made him feral with rage.

He shook himself out of the images pooling in his mind. “Whatever, I’m going to Niall’s. If you need me call me. Don’t let them drive you home if they’re drunk or summat.”

She nodded. “Thanks, H.”

He nodded getting up and leaving. “Bye, Em.”

“Catch ya.” She said. 

Harry grabbed his phone, wallet, and keys and left. He was gonna blow off some steam with Niall. Anything to get his mind off Y/n sitting pretty beside that dickhead ginger Peter. Thoughts of Y/n drifted to the back of his mind as he played Mario Kart with Niall and talked shit about Niall’s new boyfriend Paddy, Niall met his mates last night and they’d been proper twats to him and Paddy tried to gaslight him later on when they got back to his flat. Niall ended up leaving in a fit of rage. Harry tried his best at giving advice, he wanted to confide in Niall about this whole Y/n thing but he knew it could blow up in his face. Not that he didn't trust Niall to keep it hushed.

Y/n’s thoughts however were on only Harry, she would do anything to be on a date with him right now. They could be sharing a milkshake and talking about music or their days, honestly with Harry she would be happy to watch paint dry, his company made anything infinitely better. He was fun, he was cheeky, and she could be herself.

But no, she wasn’t with Harry, she wasn’t having fun at all. And she could hardly be her normal self one bit. She had to be quiet and polite when all she wanted to do was roll her eyes and spit out what a dickhead this boy sitting in front of her was.

She was sat beside the stupid prick Peter sipping down this actually quite delicious peanut butter & chocolate shake that was new on the menu and munching on some fries to keep her lips and hands busy while he talked her ear off. She loved the food here. She and Emma came here all the time to study and eat their body weight in their fries which have this great chicken and spicy salt flavouring on.

She just wanted the date to be over. He was so dull. The only thing he’d talked about the entire date for the past hour was him. His father’s business, how he could’ve had a career in Hockey if he didn’t injure his knee in his final year of school, and then making jokes about his ‘big’ dick and laughing like the complete and utter Tory he was. Which Y/n knew was a load of crap because one time he’d sent it to Emma during their first year of Uni and it wasn’t horrible but it certainly wasn’t some magical penis like he was saying.

Even just by looking at his face, you could tell he had no idea where the clitoris was. (Harry knew where it was blindfolded and you could just by the cocky look on his gorgeous face).

Y/n honestly thought it would’ve been less painful to slam her head between a door repeatedly. Zayn and Emma were hitting it off from the other side of the booth. They were leaning in closer, giggling, flirting. She was happy for Emma, really she was, but she didn’t see why she or Peter had to come. They added nothing to this date.

She was thankful when dinner arrived, it meant the date was almost over. She dove into her burger eating quickly so she could make an excuse to not talk or look at Peter. She hoped if she finished quickly the date could end quickly too.

“Are you girls going to that party on Saturday?” Asked Zayn taking a sip of his strawberry shake.

Emma looked at Y/n swallowing her mouthful of cheesy fries. “That’s the one at Harry’s Frat. Niall’s idea.”

Y/n nodded, she’d only go if Harry did or Emma really wanted her there. “Oh, dunno. Maybe.”

Emma smiled. “It sounds fun. I love costume parties.”

Y/n sipped on her shake and looked down at her lap her phone had a message from Harry on it. She’d check when no one was looking. She thought it was cute that he was checking on her.

“Hate those guys though. So cocky.”

Y/n looked up and without thinking scoffed, staring him down. “Who Harry and Niall?”

Peter looked over. “Yeah. Think their god’s gift because their football team’s the most supported at the Uni. Bunch of twats.”

“Can’t be any worse than you.” She said, and Emma was surprised eyes widening from across the table, Y/n’s words held a bite. But she knew that despite Y/n’s soft timid nature, she did not put up with people saying rude things about people she cared about. She was generally a calm, soft, and kept to herself kind of person. But if someone said something she didn’t agree with she always spoke up. “At least their only point of conversation isn’t about their less-than-thrilling cocks and daddy’s money.” She rolled her eyes.

“Calm down, Babe. It’s a joke. We are all mates here.” Said Peter.

Her brows furrowed as she looked at Emma, why wasn’t she saying anything? If someone had said something about either Y/n or Emma to Harry he probably would have punched them without even thinking. And Niall too, Y/n remembers one time some guy smacked Y/n’s ass at a party and Niall had to be pulled off him by three people.

“Are you dumb? Niall is our best friend and Harry is Em’s brother, you really think we aren’t going to be annoyed if you talk shit about them? Who do you think you are, huh?” She said turning to look at him.

Emma diverted the topic to something else and eventually, when Peter and Zayn were talking about Hockey, she made a signal for Y/n to follow her to the loo. Y/n was still pissed, and very ready to go home, she felt herself stewing in the corner her rage burning up under her skin. She didn’t understand why Emma hadn’t said anything, and that frustrated her more. She really hoped Emma was devising a plan for their escape but when they stepped inside the bathroom Emma stared at herself in the mirror reapplying her lip gloss she said something Y/n very much did not want to hear.

“I know Peter was a dick, but did you really have to have a go at him?”

This made Y/n even more annoyed than before, she’d only come on this fucking date for her and now she was complaining about how she acted when Peter was the one acting like a prick. Y/n didn’t see why she was at fault.

She and Emma never argued, Y/n didn’t like this. Emma was always on her side, even if Y/n had been in the wrong Emma would always be on her side. And anyway, she was protecting Harry and Niall. Not just anyone. She didn’t go out of her way to make the conversation turn into her having a go at him.

“Yes. I did. I only came on this date for you so that you could be with Zayn. Which you could’ve done without me and Peter. He’s awful, and you two could’ve just gone and done something on your own I don’t see why I had to be here.” She said, arms folding and Emma watched her. 

“And you know I don’t like when people are rude about our friends.”

Emma nodded. “I know Babe, sorry. I just didn’t want you to feel left out. You never go out with guys, I didn’t want to make you feel bad if me and Zayn start dating, you know?”

Y/n’s brows pinched, she was acting like that wasn’t Emma’s fault. Every boy she’d ever liked other than Harry, Emma had stolen or taken away. It’s like she wanted Y/n to be all hers. Not that it bothered Y/n much, if she couldn’t have Harry should didn’t want anyone anyway. 

“I don’t care about boys.”

Emma sighed grabbing her hand. “I know, but it wouldn’t hurt to put yourself out there, Babe.”

“Okay, sure, I see your point. But Peter? Really?”

She laughed. “Yeah, your right, he isn’t really your type. But he was the only available one on a Friday night.”

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. “Yeah, wonder why.”

Emma tucked a strand of Y/n’s hair behind her ear. “Can I ask you one last favour?”

Y/n frowned eyes sharpening. “I’m not shagging him.”

Emma laughed tossing her head back. “No, not that.”

“Then what?”

“Can you get a lift home with Peter instead of me? I invited Zayn over, Harry’s gone to Niall’s for a bit. I need a good shag, and I need it now.”

Y/n sighed, a big groan leaving her lips. “Fine. But please make this date end soon. I don’t want to miss Murder She Wrote which starts at 9.”

Emma laughed. “Okay Grandma, don’t worry you’ll be tucked in bed in 30 minutes I can guarantee it.”

They stepped outside the loos walking back to their table and Y/n sat down on the side with Peter, sitting as close to the edge as possible. While the three were wrapped up in conversation Y/n quickly checked her phone she had a message from Harry still waiting for her reply.

Harry Styles 🍒 

Call me as soon as you're home. Miss your voice.

This made her smile to herself, hearting the message before returning her attention back to the table. The three of them were talking and Y/n felt herself zone out staring out the window. Rain was dripping down against the windows. She was just thinking of Harry, and internally screaming at the fact she wasn’t on a date with him right now. He had become more clingy than she’d expected over the past few weeks, he called her a fair amount and they snuck talks in private when they could but they hadn’t had a chance to go on another date yet. The way he was so kind and clingy to her was honestly shocking, normally he was the best at a fuck and ghost. She assumed he’d do the same, which she knew she’d just pretend to be fine with and then probably lose her shit when she saw him with another girl.

But nothing had been as explosive as she thought it to be, and that was probably because Emma hadn’t the faintest idea. 

By the time everyone finished their meals Zayn and Emma made a dash for it. Leaving their money on the table with the cheque. Zayn paid half and Peter paid the other. Emma kissed her cheek and patted Peter’s shoulder before the two raced away, giggling. Y/n was cranky at the fact Emma had only thought of herself the whole night and sighed leaning back into the seat of the booth. More than ready to leave.

Y/n frowned to herself as Peter seemed totally intent on keeping her there for a bit more of a chat. 

She tried to be polite about needing to head home. Making up some project she needed to do, but Peter’s hand slid onto her knee and she felt disgust crawl up her spine. She felt uncomfortable.

“Maybe we could just pop into the loos then, I bet your into that kinda thing. Can tell."

Y/n’s jaw dropped and she pushed his hand off quickly, she tapped her phone and Harry’s number dialling instantly. He was in her favourites. She needed his help, she knew he would come. She brought the phone to her ear.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She said lips curling in anger.

Harry picked up on the second ring. “Hi, Baby.” He said, raspy. There was lots of noise, he must’ve been in the car driving home.

Peter grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. “C’mon, don’t be such a prude. I paid for your dinner. You owe me at least a blowie.”

Harry, spoke over the line into her ear. “Y/n?”

She snatched her wrist out from his rough palm. 

“Get off me!” She shouted and grabbed the last of Emma’s milkshake from the table and threw it onto him. He flinched at the cold milkshake hitting his skin, his Ralph Loren polo was now caked in thick pink liquid, and his ginger hair was now soaked and dripping down over his eyes as he gasped. 

“Bitch!” He shouted, wiping his hand over his eyes.

“Fuck yourself, you pathetic fucking prick.” She shouted pointing her finger at him. Harry had heard the interaction and his fingers curled against the steering wheel, knuckles turning white from his grip. He put his foot on the pedal. He was already turning the car around in her direction.

“Sorry, can you pick me up please, Harry? Peter’s a creep, I need you.”

“Of course, hang tight I’ll be there soon.”

Peter was shouting at her like the pathetic baby he was and some waitresses came over to help clean up the mess she’d made by throwing at him. 

“Sorry,” She whispered to the cherry-haired girl who came over with a cloth and spray. The girl just laughed as Peter rushed over to the manager who had come out at the sound of the ruckus. 

“It’s okay, he seems like he's a bit of a knob.” She said looking over at Y/n. 

“Are you alright?” The blonde waitress asked from the other side of her.

“Yeah, he’s just a handsy asshole,” Y/n explained.

It took only a few minutes before the doorbell rang above the entryway door and Harry entered the restaurant. He looked dishevelled and his eyes were wild as he stepped inside. His hair was wet from having walked from his car to her, the thunderstorm outside had soaked him. The top of his grey hoodie was speckled in rain, and his eyes were all stormy and this dark green that Y/n melted over. He made his way over to her and she felt herself forget for a second why he was here. 

She was just happy to see him.

“You okay?” He asked and she nodded, feeling relief flood her tummy. Harry always made her feel safe. He’d always felt like her protector even growing up. She remembered one time at her school dance some boys were trying to get Emma and Y/n in their car, they were drunk as skunks and she remembered Harry racing over and Y/n’s whose eyes were glassy with worry and he actually rubbed her arm. Then he drove them both to the party and made sure they were okay the whole night. He’d made her feel safe then too.

He rubbed her wrist, almost the same as that night at school. His thumb stroked it softly, as his eyes darted from hers to Peter who was still there. Covered in a milky pink drink, and swearing angrily.

Harry made his way over to him and grabbed him by the collar, in a rush of anger. He was bursting with anger and Y/n watched him surprised in her spot by the waitresses. She watched silently, expecting Harry to just tell him off. But he did more than that, Harry’s fist connected with Peter’s face and it made a slap, and he fell back onto the counter of the register with a bang.

His nose was bleeding upon the impact.

“If you ever touch her again I’ll fucking kill you. You hear me?” The calmness of his tone was actually chilling and Y/n felt herself tense up. Harry pushed him again. She knew if she let him he’d stay and pummel him for the rest of the night.

She walked over quickly and grabbed his arm softly. “C’mon, let’s just go. Can’t beat his awfulness out of him.”

“‘Can try.” He replied but ultimately he listened, pulling her into his side and they both apologised to the staff as they exited the restaurant. Harry’s hand slid into hers and she followed him to his car it was raining bad, big fat droplets hitting their faces as they walked steadily to the car. He opened the door for her and she slid in, he shut it when she was all tucked inside. The rain was coming down heavily and when he plopped in beside her he didn’t start the car, his hair was drenched and his eyelashes were thick with water. His face had turned soft again. He watched her for a beat. “Are you sure you're okay? I can go murder him if you want.”

She was silent for a second before turning to face him, she looked beautiful even with her frown. “Harry’s it’s fine. Can you just take me home?”

He nodded. She looked tired and frustrated, and in turn, this upset him. Y/n was too sweet to be treated like this. He wouldn’t let anything like that happen to her when he was around. He’d take care of his girl. The drive to Y/n’s house from the burger place really wasn’t far and she normally would’ve walked home if not for this heavy downpour of rain, and she had wanted Harry to be the one to comfort her. When Harry’s car pulled up outside the front of the house she looked over at him.

He was waiting for her to say she’d call him later and kiss his cheek but she didn’t. She looked up at him and sighed, bringing her hand up to push a loose curl away from his forehead.

“You wanna come up?” She asked.

He smiled. “You sure?”

She smiled bigger. “Yeah, come on.”

He turned the engine of the car off and just as Y/n went to open the door he said, “Wait.” 

She listened, watching as he bolted out of his side of the car to go to her side and open the door for her. She giggled at the gesture. Harry really wasn’t what people thought. 

He held his hand out for her to grab and she grabbed it as he helped her step down. The rain was heavy but neither of them seemed to care all that much considering they were both already soaking, and walked slowly up to her door. His hand was warm in hers and she shivered into his side. The rain had brought a chill to the air that nipped at her skin.

She unlocked the door and stepped inside pulling him in with her. The house was nice and warm, they’d been lucky enough to have an old fireplace still built in. It warmed the front rooms and meant their heating bill was much less since they only had to take care of a few small rooms. Harry followed her down the hall. 

This was the second time he’d been here, so now he knew where her room was he followed less nervously. The house was practically empty tonight beside from a few people in the living room and kitchen. Everyone must’ve been at one of the frat parties. She opened her bedroom door and they kicked off their shoes and socks that had gotten all soggy. 

Y/n shrugged her small pink coat off and put it over her desk chair. Harry stayed sort of stagnant behind her. Running his fingers through his hair. 

“Are y'cold, H?” She asked gripping the hem of her top, her back was facing him as she lifted it off. Revealing her lacy pink bra and bare back.

He felt his eyes widen and cheeks heat up. She yanked her jeans down and revealed a pink g-string that matched. It had bows on it, and it was all girly and pretty. Suddenly the wholesome urge to take care of her turned back into something a bit less wholesome. His cock twitched as she bent down to take her socks off. He had a great view of her plush perfect body. His hands flexed by his sides, and he looked down at his feet, did she want him to look?

She turned around running a hand through her hair, “Styles? You okay?”

She looked like a fucking dream.

He nodded looking up. “I- Yeah,”

She giggled. “What’s wrong?”

He rolled his eyes sighing, a smile remaining on his face. His cheeks had dusted in a soft pink that was unusual for him and only made Y/n more inclined to tease him. Roles reversed.

“Don’t play all dumb, you know you're fucking gorgeous. And I can’t exactly concentrate when you look at me like that.”

She walked closer to him as her hands slid under his hoodie and thick cotton t-shirt, hands grazing his skin. Her hands were cold, and he hissed slightly but made no movements to step back.  

“Like what?” Her eyelashes fluttered up at him. 

“Like that.” His hands slid around her back and down to cupping her ass in his big hands and bringing her closer to him. Their height difference had him bending down, ready to scoop her up into his arms.

She moved her hands onto his shoulders and pushed herself up on the tips of her toes, lips close to his. “Kiss me.”

He leaned down connecting their lips together. She pulled him closer, whispering against his lips. “‘M cold.” 

He leaned into her touch, she was gripping him tightly against herself. He pulled his arms away from her to lift his jumper off. She gripped the hem of his t-shirt and pulled that off too. His tattoos filled her vision and she wanted to bite and suck and lick and touch every single one of them. God, he was just gorgeous. And honestly, being able to kiss him was more pleasurable than any other experience she’d ever had. Kissing him alone was something she could do for hours. When Harry just looked at her that alone was more breathtaking than anything any other boy had done. To have him here in her room, kissing her, holding her, well it was everything she’d ever dreamed of. If her fourteen-year-old self knew she’d probably faint, scream, cry, and go into shock.

Her hands slid to his hips and gripped the button of his jeans, as his hands found her cheeks and kissed her again. She yanked them down a little bit revealing the fern tattoos she loved so much. She remembers him posting on his Instagram when he’d gotten them, Y/n practically choked on her water when she saw them. He was just walking sex. She wasn't any better than him, completely filthy in that head of hers.

He started walking forward and leading her back to her bed. She sat down on the mattress eyes wild looking up at him. His bulge was right in her eye-line and she smiled up at him, and she grabbed him to join her. He slotted in perfectly into her arms and his hips pressed into the thin string that was covering herself. He wasn’t ashamed that his cock was already growing in size in his pants, and he gently pressed it against her in hopes of some relief to his aching balls.

She sighed breathily into his mouth at the weight of him on top of her, she kept pulling him even closer. Their chests pressed into each other, and Harry was so warm, and Y/n was so soft. He could’ve stayed like that all night, in her arms.

He pecked her lips one last time as he pulled away to kiss along her chest. The little necklace she always wore that Emma had bought her was around her neck. It was the first letter of her name. His finger ran along it, stroking her upper chest.

“Should get a H.” He said before nibbling into the plush flesh of her tits. They were so warm and soft against his face. If he wasn’t so needy for her he’d just rest against them and sleep, smelling her delicious scent of that clean soft scent she always smelt of, it was so comforting to him.

She smiled and softly ran her hands through his hair, her legs were still wrapped around his back. “Why?”

He looked up, and suddenly all those emotions of jealousy and protectiveness were back rushing through him and making his hands squeeze her hips tightly. “So people know you're mine.”

This shocked her a bit and Harry was nervous for a second, he had revealed quite a bit of feelings in that moment and distracted himself with her neck. Kissing along her sweet-smelling skin. His lips were so gentle against her like he was afraid she’d break.

“And then what would you wear to show who you belong to Styles?” She said. Her voice was raspy and breathy from his kisses. His head snapped up and he smirked wickedly. 

“Well, why don’t you mark m’back with your nails like last time, and leave some bruises on m’neck until we can come up with a permanent solution?”

She smiled and felt her pussy throb at the thought. After the last time Harry was between her legs she’d ended up with bruises on her thighs, hickeys everywhere, and she was so sore it hurt to sit all day. She’d told him one night on the phone and he’d lost his mind over it. Loved the idea of Y/n being marked up from him, sore from their sex, unable to sit without thinking of him.

"Sound good, Princess?"

“Okay.” She replied content with his answer. Her lips formed in a pouty kissy face and he came up to press his into hers for a long peck, she smiled when he pulled away. How could he be so cocky and rude but also so soft all at once? He moved his way back down her body and kissed her hips sucking a spot into her left hip. His hand rubbed her stretch marks along there and kissed over the now bruised mark he’d made.

He moved further down until his mouth was right against her pussy. His nose brushed against the material as he looked up at her. “Gonna let me take care of you?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He smiled. “You’re such a good girl f’me. Perfect lil' thing.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

He loved when she slipped into that state of submission and obedience because normally, despite her calm presence, she basically never let Harry have anything without being teased. She was a bit of a brat to him, which turned him on an unfathomable about.

He pulled her knickers off and threw them to the side. As he spread her legs even further apart he moved one of her thighs to rest on his shoulder and the other he pushed forward toward her tummy, practically folding her in half. His ring-covered fingers gripped them and he leaned in close to her. The lips of her were like petals of a flower, splayed out and dewy. Her clit was puffy and swollen in arousal like the bud of a flower. He brought his free hand forward and circled her clit softly. Her hips squirmed into his hand and he heard her let out a shaky breath. 

“Ah,” She gasped when he leaned in closer and his breath hit her dripping pussy. It was cool and shiver-inducing and she could practically see his smile, even though her eyes had made their way shut.

He placed a gentle kiss on her clit and her hands moved to his hair quickly. “Please.”

He was teasing her and he loved the reaction it pulled from her. Now that they’d already been together once there was a certain familiarity in this. He knew what she liked and he was ready to explore things that he hadn’t already. Including taking his time and eating her out like he’d been thinking about since he was probably fourteen.

He looked up at her, her lips were in a pout of frustration. “What’s got you pouting, Princess?”

“Want you t’help me, Harry.”

“You can beg better than that, Y/n.”

“Please, Daddy.”

“Please what, Baby?”

“Please taste me, Daddy. Need your mouth. Want it.”

He smirked looking up at her. “‘Atta girl.”

She felt her clit throb at his raspy words. He leaned forward and licked a long stripe of her slick up into his mouth. She tasted tangy and sweet just like he’d imagined. His mouth watered at the taste, and he smirked. Once he’d tasted her he knew he wouldn’t be able to tease her any longer. He started moaning and grunting into her and the vibrations of it had her mewling and tugging on his hair.

“Fuck.” She cried out, neck arching into the pillow.

He was acting like a starved man and sucking onto her clit with such a hunger that it startled her. She hadn’t expected him to be so wild and good at it. She knew he was good, but Jesus, she was already feeling so much pleasure within mere minutes. He was suckling into her bud like a bee on a honeysuckle flower, all headily. The sweet nectar spilled onto his tongue as he kissed her lips, and practically devoured her whole. She was already feeling dreamy with the pleasure, floating with lust.

As he began to speed his tongue up and get more sloppy with his languid movements, she gained less control of her body. Her legs tried to shut on him and they were beginning to shake softly, he gripped them tighter and split her open for him.

His tongue lapped up the slick that was leaking out of her hungrily, and as he slipped his tongue near her weeping hole she let out a particularly loud whine and her back arched off the mattress. “Fuckin’ hell, feels good, Daddy.”

He pulled away for a breath looking up at her, rubbing his thumb over her clit in slow hard circles that had her eyes welling with tears of pleasure. “Yeah, sucha’ good girl letting Daddy eat this little pussy.”

She was bucking her hips and squirming under his tight grip. He could tell she was getting close as she ground against his face, her moans were getting louder and more desperate. Her slick was dribbling down his chin and he was moaning every few licks. He’d taken to rubbing his cock against the edge of the mattress for some relief, and Y/n coming on done from his touch was too much for him to stay still. He needed to relieve himself. Or he’d come his boxers, which he thought we be a bit pathetic. He wanted to prove to her how good he could be with her, how he liked to take his time when he could. But his neediness was making him have a little less control than he liked.

He continued eating her pussy with such a raw animalistic frenzy that her orgasm washed over quickly, taking her by complete surprise. Her tummy filled with waves of pleasure that shot all through her body as her muscles tensed and her pussy throbbed, she could feel herself clamping down onto his tongue as he groaned.

When she came it was with a desperate, soft, cry of his name. “Fuck, Harry.” She said, shutting her eyes and gripping his hair. “‘M cumming.”

“Cum for me, angel.”

She did. Hard. She felt like she had no control of her body as Harry talked her through her orgasm encouragingly. “That’s it, good girl.”

He’d slipped his fingers inside with ease and began curling against her. She felt herself fall back limp into the sheets as he continued licking and thrusting his fingers inside of her, and her hands moved to his hair once again pulling on it. Her mouth was loose-lipped and she found it hard to keep herself quiet now.

“Oh, fuck, Daddy,” She said breathlessly, all soft and quiet. It made him smile as he looked up at her, slick coating his lips. 

“Gonna be a good girl and let me make you cum again?”

She nodded biting her lip. “Mhm.” She said before throwing her head back when his fingers hit that soft spot inside her that she couldn’t reach with her own fingers. It made her melt and shake.

Harry noticed her reaction and smirked to himself. “Found it.”

As she watched him from between her thighs, his head bobbed and the muscle of his arms flexed, he was pinning her to the bed so that he could keep going. Her second orgasm found itself much easier, it took Harry a few kisses and rubs against her clit along with his fingers pounding into her until she came. 

Her legs moved to shut around his head and her nails were scratching along his shoulders and back. She kept repeating the words, “Please, Daddy.” Over and over, until.

“Oh, I think you’re gonna make me cum again.”

He kept his steady pace and sloppy kisses going, pulling away only to say. “Cum for Daddy, pretty girl,”

And she did. It was like his words had complete control over her. The ball growing in her tummy snapped and rushed through her. This time her whole body shook as she gripped onto his arms in support, she felt this release like a tidal wave.“Fuck, fuck, fuck,”

The tightness of her muscles flexing and her body shaking had her spent. She had never come so hard, and it for so long. It was a few minutes before she finally felt the pleasure subside to something more easy to take. 

She was mewling and babbling all drunken from her orgasm. “Jesus, H.”

He helped her through her second orgasm, kissing along her hips and thighs to give her swollen clit a chance to rest. When she finally came down from the peak of her orgasm, she went limp again, eyes shut, and for a moment there she couldn’t hear or see anything. She could only feel him. Feel what he’d made come over her.

When she looked down at him he’d pulled his fingers out only a few centimetres away and his mouth was damp. His chin was covered in slick and as she began to take in his appearance. His neck and the top of his chest was dripping. She was confused for a second, it couldn’t be sweat. Despite their intense state, she knew he couldn’t be sweating that much. And then she realised. 

“Oh, I squirted, sorry.” She said embarrassed trying to shut her legs. He looked at her like she was crazy moving back up so that his hips were between her thighs.

“Sorry? What are you on about? You squirted f’me, and you looked beautiful doing it too. Absolutely nothing to be sorry about.”

She smiled, still feeling shy and blushy. She’d squirted on his dick before, but certainly not his face. She hadn’t expected it to feel so good. “Thank you for making me cum.”

He smiled, and despite his rotten mouth and dominant cocky rough edges, in that moment he looked all soft and gooey and truthfully the fact he got to see Y/n so soft and vulnerable around him made him eternally soft for her. He wanted to see her like this all the time. Red-faced, pouty lips, eyes glassy in pleasure, and words slurring from complete satisfaction. Something only he got to see.

He wanted to be the only person who got her to squirt all over his face. Wanted to be the only one to taste her sweet little pussy. He wanted to be the only man for her. He felt so possessive over her like a kid not wanting to share his favourite toy. But he knew at the end of the day, it was always going to be her decision who she was with. 

But Y/n thought that over the years it was pretty damn obvious who she wanted. 

Harry was the only one for her. 

She wasn’t in some other boy's bed tonight, she was with him right now, running her nails softly along his arms despite how needy they both were for each other. She was slow with her touches like they had all the time in the world because really they did.

It was raining so heavily outside, the wind was howling wildly rustling all the trees nearby, and the thunder roared above them. The shelter her little room provided them with was perfect, and it felt like all time ceased to exist. The sky had turned dark and so had their eyes, her room was almost pitch black, and they were both so warm and close. Skin to skin.

Y/n was right here, naked, and waiting for him. 

Things weren’t so bad after all.

He placed a soft long kiss on her lips and she could taste herself on his tongue. Things tonight felt different than the first time, although Harry was fueled and fiery with jealousy and he wanted to take her roughly, it all felt more intimate.

His hands moved to her hips squeezing the plush flesh and running his hands over the stretch marks that decorated her skin. Every inch of Y/n was beautiful, and he’d never thought that before about anyone. He’d never seen someone's hands and thought what absolutely beautiful hands they had, or what beautiful teeth they had, or how cute their ears were. There wasn’t a part of her body that he wouldn’t worship. 

To him, she was the picture image of beauty.

The kiss deepened as he rolled them over. His head rested where hers just had, and he could feel the warmth her body had left behind. She sat right up against his cock, and she could feel him throbbing against her. His old thin boxers left little room for him to hide his aching want. He was honestly rock hard, watching her cum twice, feeling her, tasting her. It had him so hard he could’ve cried.

Her tits were right in his eyeline, all soft and full. He took one into his mouth sucking on her sensitive nipple, and enjoying the loud whine she let out. His hands had fallen to her ass now, and she’d taken to grinding against his clothed cock. He could feel the wetness of her leaking down onto his boxers and he wanted to stuff her full. Despite her two orgasms, Y/n was still managing just fine on top of him.

She pulled back just slightly so she could grip the hem of his boxers and tug them off. His cock sprang up against his tummy, and even though she’d seen it before she’d probably never get used to how fucking big and gorgeous his cock was. The pink ruddy tip that glistened in precum, his long veiny shaft, that girthiness he had. God she could stare at it for hours, she thinks he is beautiful in the way those ancient paintings of Greek gods were beautiful. His hair was unruly and curly and fit for a golden wreathe to sit, his body all muscular and tanned, his absolute manliness. Something about how capable he was was just enough to have her squirming her thighs.

If she was to paint him, she’d want him to look something like this. Messy, needy, and staring right at her. She moved her hand to grip his cock giving it some gentle strokes, he was hissing already. Her hands were so warm and soft, and she pursed her lips and spat down onto him, allowing her to stroke him faster.

“Such a pretty cock, Daddy.”

He let out a laugh through his moan, “Pretty?”

She nodded. “Just like the rest of you. Beautiful.”

He felt his cheeks warm in a blush. No one had ever called him that before. She was still stroking him and he felt his eyes begin to squeeze shut in pleasure. His hips rutted up into her hand a few times.

“Want to feel this pretty cock, Daddy, please,” She said, her voice in a gentle begging tone.

He opened his eyes and smiled his hand moving from her hip to her cheek stroking it with his thumb. 

“Come sit on it, all yours to sit on, Princess.”

She smiled up at him, kissing his jaw and letting go of his stiffy so that she could move her legs up the bed. When she was hovering over him she placed her arms by his shoulders ready to slide onto him when he stopped her. 

“Wait, condom?” He asked, kissing her nose. 

She shook her head. “Wanna feel you, s’that okay?”

He felt his cock twitch at that. “Yeah, I’m clean, trust you. Want that too.”

She smiled leaning forward to place a kiss on his lips. Her hand grabbed his dick and brought it up between her slick folds, collecting the wetness. She slowly slid down onto it and felt herself stretching for him, her two orgasms allowed more room for him to glide into her easily, but no matter how wet she was his cock was always going to stretch her out.

When she’d made it halfway she looked up at him, “Y'big, sorry,”

He just pushed some hair away from her face, kissing her jaw near her ear. “Take your time.”

Eventually, she made it hilt of him, sitting down on him softly. They both let out heavy sighs at the feeling, she felt so full of him. He was so deep, she could see the bulge of him in her tummy. She leaned her forehead against his shoulder and his hands massaged her thighs softly. If not for their burning desire Harry could’ve stayed just like that for hours. His back against the wall, her resting against him, cock all warm inside her. It was perfect.

She eventually lifted her head up and smeared their lips together in a messy gentle kiss. Her arms wrapped around his back in an embrace as she began to lift herself up and then back down slowly. The stretch starting to burn in pleasure now, and the pain subsiding. He moaned into her mouth loudly as she started to pick up a rhythm of deep hard thrusts. The tip of him was hitting that spot that had her eyes rolling back into her skull as she started to find the rhythm that was right for them both. She was going slow yet hard and deep, it had her pussy clamping down against him which was sending him up the wall.

Her pussy was to die for, so tight, and perfect around his cock. Wet and warm. He wanted to bury himself in it all hours of the day. Her lazy bounces started to pick up as she gripped his shoulders for leverage. His hands moved from her hips to her ass, gripping her tightly as he began to pump his cock up meeting her bounces. He was moaning and grunting into her neck and tits at the feel of her tight pussy, he started kissing her all over.

It was a beautiful sight, his pretty girl's tits bouncing right in front of his face, and her moaning against his cock. He couldn't help but smile, a devilish one.

“Daddy, fuck,” She swore. She was getting close again. Her previous orgasms had her so sensitive to his touch.

One of his hands came forward and began to rub messy circles against her puffy clit. She let out a whine and shut her eyes bouncing as if her life depended on it, his other hand squeezed her ass kneading it roughly, as he thrust his cock up into her pussy.

“You’re Daddy’s good girl aren’t you?”

This made her let out a particularly loud whimper.

“What was that, Princess?”

She just let out another noise of pleasure.

His hand moved up to grip her chin so she’d look at him. “Say it, Y/n. Tell me.”

“I’m your good girl, H.”

He frowned. “H?”

Her hips were stuttering on his cock and the hard rubbing against her clit. “I’m your good girl, Daddy.”

He smirked. “Who’s little pussy does this belong to?”

God, he was filthy. She fucking loved it. It’s what she’d imagined him to be liked. Raw, rough, filthy, dominant, and possessive.

She cried out as his thrusts began to speed up. She was dizzy with it all, struggling to speak.

Her voice came out hoarse and breathless. “Yours,”

“What’s mine, Y/n?”

“My pussy, it’s yours. I'm yours.”

He smirked. “Good girl, sucha' good fucking girl.”

His thrusts caused her entire body to jolt forward, as her nails scratched down his arms and she began to scream at the pleasure. 

“That’s it, take Daddy’s cock,”

She gripped his arms for dear life, “Gunna’ come again. Ah, mm, fuck.”

He didn’t stop for a second and it was only a few thrusts until she was squirted all over his cock and shaking wildly. He could tell he’d fucked her hard because she was practically limp on top of him when her orgasm subsided, she was spent. Harry had ruined her. Three orgasms, three mind-blowing orgasms, she didn’t know if she could handle another.

He kissed her lips. “Good job, sweet girl.”

She smiled dazedly. “Thanks, Daddy.”

“Want me ta’ take care of ya’ now.” His voice hadn't gotten even slower, slurring from the absolute raw fuck he was having.

She nodded and he helped her off him. She fell back onto her bed, back amongst the mess that was her sheets. Her hair lay above her like a crown and he kissed her lips softly, enjoying this gentle side to her. It seems the more she came the softer she got, more clingy, handsy. He fucking loved it. He was sure his shoulders were covered in scratches from her, and his hair had been tugged about by her. He probably looked just as fucked out as her.

She was covered in a light sheen of sweat, and her lips were swollen. She looked up at him fluttering her lashes. Sexiest little thing ever, a total minx. “Want you.” She whispered. She wanted him to cum, fill her up. She'd been thinking about for years, especially lately.

He grabbed her legs spreading them far apart so he could slot in between her. He was sitting up on his knees all tall above her. Her tummy curled in anticipation and desire, he was so fucking hot. His gorgeous veiny hands touched her and those ring-covered fingers of his gripping into her flesh hard. His swirls of ink were still visible under the moonlight. 

He was a sight. A pure filthy sight she wanted to hold onto in her mind forever.

“Want to fill you up, Princess.” He replied. His cock was begging for his orgasm, he’d managed to last through one of her orgasms pulsing against him, but he knew the next one would push him over the edge. He slowly slipped inside of her, and her hands found their way to his arms, gripping them hard.

He started thrusting roughly without much warning, causing her bed to shift and creak under the weight of them both. She moaned loudly, “Oh, fuck,”

With each thrust her body jolted into the bed, as she tried to find a way to control her squirming body.

He let out a hiss as his balls slapped against her ass. “Feel so good around me, sweet girl. Fuckin' perfect. Made for this cock.”

She pulled him closer so that her chest was pressed into his. His face slipped into the side of her neck and shoulder and gently kissed along there. One of her arms wrapped around his back and the other found his hand, he held hers tightly. He continued fucking into her deep, it felt so good it hurt and her hips jutted to meet his.

“‘Wanna cum, Daddy, can I?” She said softly, in a pleading tone that had his balls aching to fill her pussy up with his hot cum. He grunted pounding into her just that bit harder, this final bundle of energy he had was going toward making her finish.

She felt her tummy tightening familiarly with her orgasm. She knew that she couldn’t hold onto it much longer.

“Cum f’me please, Y/n.” He whimpered, “Be a good girl and let me feel you cum on m’cock.”

His hand held hers tightly, and this romantic intimate side of him was all too much for her, this was somehow hotter than his rough side. She loved to see him like this.

She pulled his face to hers, and they kissed as she finished. It was all teeth and tongue, noses brushing into each other, and she cried out into his mouth. He nibbled her lip and felt her clamping against him rapidly.

When he pulled back from the kiss they were breathless, each thrust had her practically crying out.

“Gonna make me cum, Y/n,” He whispered. “Where do you want me cum?”

She wrapped her legs around his hips. “Inside me, please, Daddy.”

When he made eye contact with her that’s when he finally orgasmed. The thrusts of his hips grew sloppy with pleasure as he let out a loud moan of her name and some curses. She was scratching his arm and back softly letting him fuck her full of his cum as his pleasure subsided. He didn’t move out of her, just landed on top of her. His head resting right above her fast-beating heart. He was fucking spent.

She stroked his hair feeling nice and full of him. She could feel his cum inside her, dripping out onto his cock. He was warm and big to cuddle she loved it. He lifted his head up when he caught his breath, placing a kiss on her forehead, then her nose, then her cheeks which made her giggle, then finally her lips.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered.

“Oh, shut up Styles, I already let you fuck me, no need to butter me up now.” She teased.

He rolled his eyes, still inside her, still holding her hand. “You’ve always been beautiful, most gorgeous girl in the whole world.”

Her face turned soft, cheeks blooming in a soft dusty rose. “You’re beautiful too.”

He smiled. “Thank you.”

Eventually, he pulled out of her, she felt empty and whined at the feeling. She was so sensitive now. She honestly wouldn't have minded if he'd stayed inside her for the rest of the night.

She shut her eyes and as he sat back, he watched his cum drip out of her. It made his tummy flutter. He knows he shouldn’t be thinking this far ahead considering Y/n and him weren’t even dating. But if she got pregnant with his baby, that would be the cutest thing in the world. He cut those thoughts from his mind and stood up. 

“Gonna clean y’up.” He said, walking to her bathroom. He found a cloth in there and wet it with some warm water walking over to the bed. 

She opened her eyes which had turned bleary with sleepiness. She smiled tiredly over at him. He smiled back, grabbing her legs and spreading them so he could wipe her down. She whined at the touch of the cloth.

“Sorry, Baby.”

She let out another soft wince. “S’okay, worth it.”

As he stared down at her he noticed how sweaty she looked. “Wanna shower? I’ll help you. We probably should after all that rain and other stuff.”

She nodded, a small laugh leaving her mouth. “Okay, just don’t let me fall asleep and drown in there.”

He laughed. “Course not.”

He helped her up to a sitting position and she looked up at him sluggishly. “Really got me sore, H.”

He frowned. “Sorry, Angel.”

She teasingly sharpened her gaze, “You aren’t sorry, you filthy boy.”

He smirked. “‘M not sorry for taking what’s mine, I am sorry you’ll be sore tomorrow.”

She rolled her eyes. “You will be sorry when I keep complaining.”

"I'll massage you, don't worry."

He picked her up startling her, she always knew he was strong but never expected him to pick her up with such ease, and if she wasn’t totally spent she’d want to test what also he could do with those big muscles. Throw her around maybe? Fuck her standing up? She’d make a note to herself to try that later.

His hands were under bum and as he walked to the bathroom, the shower was surprisingly big and had a tiny little shelve that came out which had all her soaps and shampoos, but there was enough room for her to sit on it.

He turned the water on warm and placed her onto the sink bench. She watched him under the pale light of the bathroom. How was this the same Harry from before?

This was a soft kind man, a gentleman, hardly a frat boy dick. She didn't know where'd he been hiding this side of him. But she liked him just as much as he did the rotten-mouthed boy she knew.

In the shower he took care of her as promised, washing her hair with the lavender-scented shampoo she owned. He used some too, and he helped wash her skin with this fresh-smelling shower oil she had. Softly cleaning her sore parts and he massaged her body with such a gentleness that she melted right into his hands.

She’d never expected Harry to be one to stay and cuddle after, let alone help shower. He was so nurturing to her. It made her feelings bloom and spread through her body like wildflowers.

When they were both clean Harry even helped her dry her hair, and change into some comfy clothes. While she was brushing her teeth and putting some skincare on he fixed up her sheets and tucked himself into them. He'd put his rings in the little dish she had on her bedside table. Checking his phone to see it was late. They'd been going for a while.

When she came out in a baggy shirt that Harry had worn last time he was here, it still smelt of him, and some little black knickers he felt his heart skip a beat. She looked especially good in his clothes.

“C’mere.” He opened the duvet and she slid in beside him tiredly. He pulled her close, right in the crook of his chest, he’d decided to wear nothing to bed. Which bothered neither of them. He ran hot, especially with Y/n snuggling right up against him.

Her window was open letting the heavy downpour of thunder and rain become background noise as they fell asleep. He kissed her temple, rubbing her back underneath his shirt.

“Night, Beautiful.”

She shut her eyes kissing one of the swallows on his chest. “Night, Styles.”

Sleep found them both quickly and Harry held onto her the whole night. He was completely smitten with her, the one girl he couldn’t have was the only one he wanted. Fuck. They were so screwed.

PART THREE???????

[be-with-me-so-happily]

Okay so hear me out. Angst. Pure hardcore I’m gonna crawl into a hole angst. DIVORCERRY. (I’m unwell I can’t help it)

I'm back! Feels weird tbh. Hehe, I had actually started writing this before going through my own. Feels timely that I post it now. It might not be as angsty as you requested, and/or as I intended, but I hope you enjoy... it's been so long since I've written that I have no idea of it's any good.

You never thought you'd be here. Then again, does anyone? Sitting in a cold conference room, with your lawyer beside you and the man you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with now avoiding eye contact, as he stares down at his rings from across the large wooden table. It's not something you ever considered happening when you said 'I do'.

But here you are, feeling every emotion and yet none at all, listening to a mediator list off all the 'assets' that you and Harry accumulated together over the years.

Item after item brings back memory after memory, and a part of you wants it to stop. What's the point? These are things you bought together, found together, did together. Now you are no longer together.

"Mrs. Sty-... sorry, I mean... Ms. YN."

“Hm?” Your eyes shoot up to the man at the head of the table, the one who is there to divvy up the material items from your relationship. The only one who seems to have a hint of compassion in his eyes.

“Is there anything you'd like to start with? Something in particular you'd like to have for yourself?”

What a loaded question. Is there something you want? Yes. How about the last few years back? Or how about a marriage that didn't fall apart in the first place? How about just the beautifully dimpled smile that would appear any time Harry looked your way, rather than the small, apathetic glances you occasionally receive when you have to be in the same room with each other?

You clear your throat, taking note of the fact that Harry still has yet to look at you.

"All I ask… is for my attorney fees to be covered.” You take a quick, deep inhale. “That's all. He can have everything else."

You immediately rise from the chair, oddly one of the most comfortable you've been in, especially considering the situation. Of course, this is the moment he looks up at you, with the most intense furrow of confusion plastered across his brow.

“YN.” Your lawyer whispers, causing you to look down to a face just as confused as the one sitting across from you.

“Just…” You shake your head, knowing that you'll only be encouraged to stay there longer, to continue with the torturous meeting, and dissect why something could mean so much to you. “Just send me the papers to sign.”

“Come on YN…” The sudden deep tone of that familiar British voice sends a shock through your system. With how little you've heard it lately, you'd almost forgotten what it sounded like. Almost. “There has to be something you want. I’m… I'm willing to negotiate.”

You drop your head and rest your palms against the wooden table in front of you. There's a lot that you want, but right the only thing you need is for this meeting to be over.

"Harry, I was never with you to get something from you, other than love.” The tightening in your chest begins, leaving you to feel as if words and air are both now difficult to find. “Now that's gone, so I don't really have anything to fight you for."

You stand back straighter, reaching into your purse and withdrawing the last thing you still had from him.

In your hand is a box, a small box, which you place on the table and glide across the wood, your heart almost questioning if you'll be able to let it go. You release it with a sigh and a full ache in your heart as you realize that this is it. This is the end.

Harry's gaze darts back and forth, never landing on your eyes or the object for more than a few seconds. There's a look on his face of potential disbelief. Maybe it's finally hitting him too, though neither of you should be surprised.

“It's my-”

“Wedding… ring...”

You aren't sure if either lawyer or the mediator heard the whispers of the short interaction, but the room suddenly becomes silent, the void paralleling what's left of your marriage.

What do you say now? What's an appropriate parting statement to give the man you never thought you would part from?

Then again, you've both said all that you needed to say. That's why you are there. So maybe it's best to leave it at that.

You allow yourself one last look at him, and your heart feels as if it's breaking all over again, seeing the same sentiment in his eyes. Those beautiful green eyes you wanted to look at forever.

Considering all the songs Harry's written about sweet fruit, you wish this moment didn't taste so sour.

Taglist: @watermelonsugacry @tw1nflamebruis3 @hopefulwastelandcreation @tenaciousperfectionunknown @queenmadi2 @runway-to-my-aid @theekyliepage @be-yourss @behindmygreyeyes @michellekstyles @a-strange-familiar @yousunshineyoutempter @buckybarnessimpp @msolbesg @sleutherclaw @katiebaxterrrrrr @percysaidnever @mrspeacem1nusone @thurhomish @itsbebeyyy @divalovesyou @bxbyysstuff @sunshinemoonsposts @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @boybands-baseball @austynparksandpizza @missmielyhoran @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @matildasatellite @cherryshouse @yatebe-kohayu @perfectzinenerdperson @babyiamperfectforyou @daphnesutton @around1302 @daydreamingofmatilda @swiftmendeshoran @one-sweet-gubler @jerseygirlinca @carey86 @lomlhstyles @vrittivsanghavi @fdl305 @sunflowersloverr @lemoncrushh @groovychaosavenue @justlemmeadoreyou @copiastricycle @lillefroe

[harrywavycurly]

I’m so happy you’re back! Could you do a text with Harry while he’s in Italy and he misses you?😊

Hiii babes!! Of course, I hope you enjoy this and idk why referring to him as having a “sad boy summer” look just makes me laugh😂💖

-find all thing Texting Boyfriend Harry Styles here✨

[drewsephrry]

memories

Harry Styles x reader

Inspired by: Memories-Conan Gray

Warnings: alcohol consumption, yelling, crying (idk if it counts as a warning) cuss words

Words: 2.7k

It was a rainy autumn night. She had a random movie playing in the background just to comfort her. She hated rain with passion. She hated that she was all alone and the only thing she could do to distract herself from it was look at old pictures.

Pictures from her childhood that were much too nostalgic for her, trying really hard to remember the name of the girl braiding her hair. Pictures from her vacation with her best friends from the previous summer, matching flower crowns and seashell necklaces on display. Pictures with her previous lover, that if she saw just two months ago she would cry her heart out but instead she smiled and reminisced about the tattoo he had let her draw on his skin shown in the photo.

It was a random Thursday night, the couple was chilling with their friends when Zayn told them that he had just acquired a tattoo gun. Harry was thrilled with the idea of putting more ink on his skin and even more so when Niall suggested that he let Y/N draw one on him.

Y/N had almost immediately shook her head in denial but Harry begged and begged until she sighed, defeated.

“Harry, you do know you're going to be stuck with it forever?” She warned.

“Yes, my love. Stop worrying about everything.” He tries to reassure her once more.

“But H, what if I mess it up? Or-or even worse we break up and you have it on your skin for the rest of your life?” She started asking with shakily hands, stuttering and failing to breathe properly.

“Y/N, honey, breathe. You'll be fine. Okay and what if you mess it up? That would just make it even more special to me. I love you and I completely trust you.” He puts his hands on her shoulders, trying to calm her down. “I'm not planning on breaking up with you anytime soon, maybe even ever. Unless you do and you're trying to let me down slowly, I don't see anything wrong with you tatting me.” He reassures her once again and she sighs, nodding. Harry smiles widely and pecks her lips, before pulling his long hair up in a bun.

After sterilizing the equipment and Zayn showing her how the gun works, she was ready. She didn't feel like it, but Harry squeezed her hand three times, their way of expressing their love to each other without actually saying anything.

She asked him multiple times, as the tattoo gun hit his skin if he was in any pain and if he needed anything, but Harry told her repeatedly he was fine and was praising her for her light touch.

After just a few minutes, the sketch, she had done on a random notebook Zayn had in his apartment, was brought to life.

A palm tree on the backside on his upper arm was delicately outlined and filled by her. She grabbed the handheld mirror that Zayn gave her and held it so Harry could see the work she did.

“Do you like it? If you don't, we can find something to cover it up with and I'll pay for it.” She suggested immediately, worried because he hadn't spoken yet. But the truth was he was mesmerized by it.

“I love it. It's so simple but yet done so beautifully. Thank you, my love. Thank you so so much.” He said kissing her lips. She smiled and sighed once again.

“Thank you for trusting me with this.”

“Well, you know what they say. Tat for tit!” He exclaimed jokingly, trying to lift her shirt when Y/N pushed his hand away giggling.

“You're such an idiot!”

Suddenly, she heard a knock on her door. She stopped gazing at her phone and another knock was heard. She got up from her couch cautiously. It was really late and it was pouring outside. Who could it be?

She grabbed the pepper spray from her handbag, as another knock was heard. She clutched her phone, close to her chest, ready to call the police.

She looked through the peephole and saw the one person she didn't expect to.

Harry was standing there, his hair sticking on his forehead and his clothes soaked.

She quickly unlocked the door and gasped.

“Harry, what are you doing here?” She asked, worried and confused.

“Need to talk with you, angel.” He slurred, an obvious sign he was drunk. He was pouting and his glossy, his green eyes were bloodshot telling her he was crying. His cologne was overcome by the smell of tequila. Y/N couldn't do anything else than open the door wider and gestured for him to come in.

She closed the door behind her and walked to her kitchen to pour some water for him, in hopes that he would sober up a little. He followed her like a wet and lost puppy that she couldn't turn away.

He takes a gulp of the water she hands him and smiles at her. She looked so cute and tiny compared to him, her hair was a little longer and her skin was still tanned from summer.

“I love you so much Y/N/N. I never wanted to hurt you.” He slurred again.

“But you did, H.” She couldn't tolerate standing there and listening to him pour his heart out when he broke her own a few months ago.

Y/N had started getting better. Getting over him. She was considering starting dating again. But seeing him like this made it so hard for her to think. Think about how fucked what he did and said was.

“Please, my baby, my love, listen to me. I made a huge mistake.” He was pulling his hair and trying to balance on his own two feet. He stumbled and fell to the floor, Y/N immediately reaching for him to make sure he was alright.

“I have missed you. I can't sleep without you. I barely eat anymore. I-I…don’t know what to do without you.” He confessed, tearing up. He pulled his knees up to his chest as he sat with his back on one of the kitchen cabinets.

Y/N was nodding, feeling upset and guilty she made him feel like this.

“H-Harry…I don't know what to say. Please, don't cry. You can stay with me tonight. We'll be fine.” She bent down to be eye level with him, comforting him and hugging him tightly. Neither one of them could deny how safe they felt in that moment, in each other's arms.

Y/N knew she was making a huge mistake, something her therapist won't be able to help with, something her friends cannot support and mostly she cannot expect any one of them to be there to pick up her pieces when everything would break down again.

Harry was led to her bedroom and she helped him lay down, removing his articles of clothing that he claimed felt like lava on his skin.

“Why were you all alone? Don't you still hate the rain?” He asked, getting under the covers of her bed, his eyes slightly closed. Y/N nodded and walked towards her side of the bed.

Y/N laid beside him, wrapping her arms around his back and to his front. He squeezed them three times, before quiet snores were the only thing heard.

How could she say goodbye to him again, when he just spent an entire night with her?

That morning Y/N woke up to an empty bed. She walked out to her living room, to see that she was all alone.

He had left her.

She walked to the kitchen with an ache in her chest and saw a plate with a stack of pancakes with maple syrup on her kitchen counter for her to indulge in.

She ended up spending her whole day crying and watching ‘The notebook’.

The next day, when Y/N's therapy appointment was scheduled, she told her about the night she spent with Harry, how she felt safe and for once, after a few months, slept like a baby and through the whole night.

Her therapist scolded her about her poor choices and talked to her about stepping forward.

A few days passed since Y/N's and Harry's last encounter. Y/N was getting ready for her best friend's birthday party when a knock was heard on her door. She yelled that she'll be right there, thinking it was the delivery guy with her food.

She grabbed her wallet and ran to the door with a wide smile on her face. Although when she opened the door, it was wiped away quickly. She swallowed and looked at Harry's green eyes.

“I missed holding you.” He slurred. Y/N was already running late to help her best friend with the party preparations. She was planning on getting there first out of everyone, to blow balloons and hang the garlands she had bought. But her meal hadn't arrived in time and now, this was happening.

She opened the door wide and he entered, he walked and sat down on her couch with a thump. He giggled at the sound he made and got quickly distracted by the show on her TV.

Y/N groaned and tried to keep in her mind what her therapist, mom and best friend told her.

“It's hard to find an end to something that you keep beginning, over and over again.”

“Hey, come look at this! Monica got stung by a jellyfish!” He giggled, getting comfortable on her couch.

She cursed under her breath, thinking how he would fuck up her progress in getting over him. Now twice. She grabbed her phone from the coffee table and walked in her bedroom to call her best friend.

“I'm really sorry, but I won't make it tonight.” She lied.

“What? Y/N, it's my birthday! You can't miss it.” Her best friend had furrowed her eyebrows, even if Y/N couldn't see it.

“I love you so much, I'll explain everything another time. And I am really and truly sorry.” She apologized again.

“Don't tell me he's there again.” Her best friend groaned and Y/N sighed.

“Y/N/N, he's no good for you. He's going to hurt you again. He's going to keep coming back since you're not turning him away. This is a never ending cycle, babe. Think about all the trauma he put you through. You need to put him in the past and move on.”

Y/N sighed defeated. Her best friend was right.

“Again, I'm really sorry.” She apologized one last time, before hanging up the phone. She walked back to the living room, where he was laying on the couch watching as Ross yelled ‘We were on a break!’. Harry chuckles at that and looks up to find you standing a few feet away from him.

“Care to join me, my beautiful girl?” he asked, making space for her and she smiled sadly as she nodded.

“Let me take my heels off really quick and I'll be right there.” She assured him, going inside her bedroom again, untying the straps from her heels and sitting down on her bed to catch her breath. She felt like throwing up. She felt her chest heating and that she was unable to breathe.

One, two.

One, two.

In, out.

In, out.

She was calm again.

The doorbell was heard, so she got up and out of her bedroom to find Harry already at the door.

“Stay the fuck away from her!” His slurred British accent alarming you. You ran quickly at the door and pushed Harry away from it.

“I'm really sorry about him, he's not feeling well. Thank you for your service!” Y/N tipped the now scared delivery guy, grabbing the bag of food from his hand and closing the door quickly. She pressed her back on it and sighed loudly.

“Don't be upset with me. He just wanted to get in your pants. I was trying to protect you. I always will.” Harry's eyes filled with tears once again. A laugh track was heard and she sighed again.

“It's okay, H. I'm fine. We're fine. Let's go eat!” She grabbed his hand and he smiled, wiping his eyes.

They spent the rest of the night cuddling on her couch.

The next day, he was gone again. She opened her phone to see multiple texts and calls from her best friend, telling her not to worry and that she would forgive her for bailing on her.

Y/N ignored all of them, including her therapist's email to confirm their weekly appointment. She knew that she would be disappointed to hear that she's taking more and more steps back.

A week later, she still hadn't heard a word from Harry and she waited for his appearance on her doorstep.

And there he was, a loud knock on the door startling her from the cookies she decided to bake as a stress reliever.

She ran to the door and opened it to find him there. He looked a little bit better than the last times he visited her, although he still reeked of tequila.

“Hello, my love.” He said, approaching her to kiss her lips. But she pulled away and shook her head. She opened the door wider for him to enter. He did and walked to the couch, sitting down and removing his shoes, already getting comfortable. Y/N couldn't take it anymore.

“We need to talk. I don't care if you're sober or drunk as fuck, but this has got to stop.” She said upset.

“What's bothering you baby? I can kiss it better.” He giggled and made grabby hands at her.

“Harry, I am serious. You can't keep doing this. There's no good reason to believe that we could ever exist again. I cannot be your friend. I definitely cannot be your lover. And I cannot be the reason we hold back each other from actually falling in love with someone else.” Y/N felt lighter after telling him exactly how she felt.

Harry felt a lump growing on his throat, his eyeline was gathering tears and he felt his chest tightening. Suddenly his head was clearer and he wasn't under the influence of alcohol completely.

“I just…you can't keep showing up, especially drunk, ruining everything. Expecting me that I would just take you back. You fucking traumatized me Harry. You broke my heart. And I'm trying so hard to forget you, to put you in the past and you're not letting me do that. You're just too busy playing the victim and acting like you are the one who's hurt, like you're the one that has a specialist taking care of you and your feelings. Can you just for once listen to me and stay the fuck away from me? Just…stay in my memories.”

She felt tears rolling down her cheeks, she didn't even notice she was crying. Harry looked down on the floor, sniffling. Y/N wiped her tears and sat down beside him.

“Since you came all the way over here, I'll let you stay. You can stay as long as it takes, but this is the last time. When you're going to leave, you're taking all of your books that you have left, your coat that’s still in my closet and that good cologne that you have left in my bathroom and it haunts me. It's still on my clothes and pretty much everything that I own and it makes me…feel like dying. I mean, I'm barely surviving as it is.”

Harry was feeling like his heart was being stabbed over and over again. He hadn't realized how much damage he had done to Y/N. He didn't want her to feel that way anymore.

He got off from her couch and walked to her bedroom grabbing his coat, the cologne from the bathroom and gathered the books from her bookcase, putting them inside a tote bag, which was also his.

“I'm not gonna bother you anymore. I-I am really sorry for the damage I did. I never meant to hurt you. I love you way too much and…I know what I'm saying is not gonna change anything but I needed to get it off my chest. I wish you only the best, my lo-Y/N. And I'll always be there for you, if you ever need me. But I'll just stay in your memories.”

He kissed her lips once. Twice. Three times.

When he pulled away both of them had tears rolling down their cheeks, their eyes were red and their lips swollen from the kisses they shared.

“I guess this is goodbye.” Harry whispers. “For now.” He smiled and Y/N nodded.

“Goodbye H. Take care.”

A/N: just a lil valentines day gift lol, this was heartwrenching to write, hope you all enjoyed and cried with me

[freedomfireflies]

hi! if you’re still taking requests could you please write something about being pregnant and you’re getting some hate from harry’s fanbase about your body and harry reassures you about how you’re beautiful and all that, maybe some smut if you can?? i’m feeling a bit insecure about my body today and i really wish i had someone to help me through that 😓 if you don’t want to no worries, i love your work 🫶🏻

I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to do this, but I hope it can help remind you exactly how wonderful, stunning, and loved you are!

“No.”

“Angel…just come here—”

“I said no.”

Harry’s eyes narrow playfully as he regards you from the bed. “Baby, if I have to pick you up and carry you back over, I promise you aren’t gonna like what happens next.”

You snort from your place inside the closet, although truth be told, you don’t doubt that he will. “I’ll be there in a second, okay—”

“No, not okay. I want you here now,” he insists, and you suck in a quiet breath as your lids squeeze shut, willing yourself not to cry.

After a moment or two, you turn around and face him, taking a hesitant step closer as he offers a sympathetic smile. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “That’s it, come on. Right here.”

He pats his parted thighs until you slip yourself between them. And once you do, he takes hold of your hips and keeps you firmly planted to your spot. 

“Now…tell me what’s going on up here, hm?” he whispers, reaching up to tap his finger along your temple. “Tell me, Angel.”

A beat as you debate how much to share. “It's...nothing. Really,” you sigh, not exactly in the mood to divulge the abuse your mind has been putting you through for the past few days.

Well…weeks, actually. Months. Years.

“Eh, wrong,” he declares teasingly. “Try again.”

You look down at him, throat burning from the force of attempting to keep yourself together. “I just…I don’t know. I can’t seem to find anything to wear that I feel…good in.”

His playful attitude seems to diminish, brows pulling together as his lips purse and he looks up at you. “S’your mind being mean to you again?”

“Probably,” you mumble, glancing down at his shirt, hoping to focus on that instead. The look in his eye isn't helping the pit in your stomach. “Or maybe I’m just finally seeing myself for what I am.”

“And what are you?”

You tangle your fingers in the material on his chest. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. “I’m exactly who they said I was.”

“Who?”

You go quiet, not exactly thrilled with the idea of reliving it.

“Who, Angel?” he repeats a bit sterner, shaking your hips once. 

You roll your lips into your mouth. “The comments. All the comments. Everywhere. Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, Tumblr. At your shows, on the street, from some of those girls at the party. They’ve made it very clear that I’m not your type and I just…I don’t know. I guess I didn’t see it before, or I didn’t want to see it before but now I do, and I just don’t—”

He shakes you again until you stop, palm reaching up to cup your jaw and force your eyes on him. “Hey, easy, okay? Enough. That’s the fucking love of my life you’re talking about, yeah? I don’t wanna hear that shit—”

“Yeah, well I don’t either, but here we are,” you huff, yanking your head away so you can look back down at the floor.

But Harry isn’t so easily deterred, quickly taking your face in both his hands this time around as he brings your attention back to him. “All right, well let’s start with this: they can go fuck themselves. They don’t know my type. They don’t know jack shit about me or what I like—”

“Har,” you interject with a pointed look. “It’s not that hard to guess that your type is skinny and blonde—”

“No, see, fuck that, too,” he scoffs. “Look, am I gonna sit here and pretend there haven’t been a few coincidences? No. There’s a pattern, I see that. But that’s not why I dated them. I dated them because of who they were. Because of how I felt when I was around them. Because of their intentions and their morals not because of the way they looked.”

It’s a nice argument. Almost believable, too. You know Harry like the back of your hand. You know what he’s drawn to. Know that he cares about what’s in someone’s heart first and foremost. 

But you also know that he’s a man and men are pigs and horny all the goddamn time.

“I believe that you believe that,” you tell him. “Doesn’t change the fact that the world expects you to be with someone that looks like…you know, not me.”

That handsome face of his falls into a frown. “You think I make my choices based on what the world expects of me?”

You sigh, head shaking once. “No,” you whisper, rather ashamed. “No, I just…I guess I wished I saw something else when I looked in the mirror.”

He stares at you for a moment. Quietly. Purposefully. Then, he stands.

You scramble back as he grabs your hand and leads you toward the corner of the bedroom where your full-length mirror resides.

Oh, great, you think, feet dragging a bit as he places you in front of your reflection and settles in behind you.

“I’m gonna tell you what I see, yeah?” he declares as he peeks over your shoulder to meet your eye in the mirror. “And you’re gonna fucking listen to me. Not to them. Not to your anxiety or your overthinking. Me. Just me. Deal?”

Not like you really have a choice, you sigh again as you nod once.

“Good girl.” His fingers delicately begin to trace down the slope of your shoulders and down your arms as your breath hitches. “I see the arms that held me the night I found out my friend had died. The arms that make me feel safe and loved. The arms that carried each and every one of those flowers to my mom’s house for her birthday and the arms that let me be the little spoon when I need it.”

Your teeth pull at your lip in an attempt to keep from smirking as his touch travels from your arms to your waist and you watch rather intently.

“I see the hips that I grab onto when I’m fucking ruining you against the wall. The hips that I grab onto when you sit on my lap and grind that pretty ass against my cock when you think no one is looking. I see the hips that I squeeze when you’re dancing with me in that pretty red dress I fucking adore,” he continues, his voice a gentle purr, and suddenly, you don’t feel like smirking anymore.

He moves back up, fingers sweeping down the back of your neck before dancing around your throat and along your jaw.

“I see the face of the woman I love. The lips I love to bite until they bleed. The eyes that look at me when I’m doing something annoying, or stupid, or just a little bit dangerous. The eyes that watch me when I ruin you with my tongue, or when I dance around the stage, or when I get into the shower even though you think I don’t notice.”

You’re not quite sure you’re breathing at this point, his pointed gaze still on yours through the reflection as his hand begins to fall to your chest.

“I see the body that brought you to me. I see your heart in the little things you do. The way you speak. The way you make sure everyone around you is okay before you check on yourself. I see your heart in the way you trust me. The way you sacrifice your sanity just to follow me around the world on the world’s tiniest tour bus. In the way you play my mom’s dumb Rabbit, Rabbit game every month because it makes her so happy and no one else will play it with her.”

Now you do laugh, head shaking as you glance down at the floor.

But he brings two fingers to your chin to raise it back up once again as he leans closer, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. 

“I see the legs that shake when I tease you,” he murmurs. “The thighs that squeeze around my head when you come. I see the skin that looks so beautiful when it’s sweaty and sticky and soft under my touch. I see the ass I could bounce a quarter off of. I see the curves I love to run my tongue along. I see the dips that fit mine like a fucking puzzle piece. Like it was always meant to fit. Your body in mine.”

You’re leaning back against his chest, now hardly able to stand as he nearly brings you to his knees with his words alone. You’re almost annoyed at the way he’s managed to play you and yet…you know that everything he says, he means.

When he’s sure he has your full attention, he slips his arms around your waist until he can press his palms to your stomach, chin on your shoulder as you suck in a longing breath.

“I see the body that holds our baby,” he says softly, and you feel the tears sneaking their way to your eyeline. “The body that made our baby. The body that carries it, protects it, nourishes it. The stomach that looks just as glorious now as it did the first time I saw it. The stomach that I love to run my lips along. To taste, to have, to bite until it’s my name you see when you look in the mirror.”

Your head is spinning, filled with more voices than you can count. And every comment. The ones online, the ones telling you that you’re not who you should be, and now…his.

And then suddenly, it goes quiet. 

Until all you hear…is him.

“I see the love of my life,” he continues as your eyes meet his again. “I see you. I see the only person I want to see. The only person I want to come home to. The only person I’ve ever truly wanted. No matter what they tell you, no matter what you tell yourself…it doesn’t change what I see. No numbers, no sizes, no comments. I just see you. I see the person that makes me feel safe and the body that gives me the kind of hard-on that has me wanking off in a coat closet just to get some relief.”

You’re not sure whether to laugh or cry, so you do both as he smirks and reaches his knuckles up to catch a stray tear falling down your cheek.

“I know that this isn’t something that I can fix, no matter how good I am,” he adds teasingly. “But I want you to promise me something, yeah?”

You nod.

“Next time you hear anybody else’s voice but mine…you come straight to me. So I can show you exactly who you are to me.”

You don’t answer with words. Instead, you turn around and kiss him. Fingers in his hair as you slip your tongue past his and try with everything you have to let him know how much you love him. How much you appreciate him.

How much you need him.

He’s more than grateful to have you on him like this, already attempting to pull you back toward the bed, but before the tender moment can pass, you take a second to breathe and press your forehead to his.

He waits patiently, keeping his hold on you tight as you work to find the right words.

“I love you,” is all you can say, lashes falling shut, overcome with emotion and need. “I really fucking love you.”

“I love you, Angel,” he replies, laughing a bit as if he can hardly believe how lucky he is.

Then, he kisses you again.

“Now let me see you.”

~ Full Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

[imagine-that-one-thing]

The manuscript || Chapter One

This manuscript, previously known as Her Majesty, now titled The Glass Veil, represents countless hours of revision and transformation. Scenes and characters, along with their entwined plots, have been reshaped and refined. It's my hope that you, as a reader, derive as much joy from experiencing this story as I have found in crafting it.

In the opulent yet perilous corridors of the royal palace, a story of love, deceit, and power unfolds with Anastasia at its heart. Once a commoner, her sudden and secretive betrothal to Harry promised a fairy tale ending. But behind the gilded doors lies a web of intrigue. Her Father and Parliment, cunning and ambitious nobles, expose Anastasia's sanity as a strategic deception aimed at barring her ascent to power. As her coronation approaches, Anastasia finds herself ensnared in a political chess game with the throne and her life at stake. Each player is ruthless, each move more dangerous than the last. With her legitimacy questioned and enemies closing in, Anastasia must navigate the treacherous waters of royalty to prove her worth not just as a monarch but as a leader worthy of her people's loyalty. In this gripping tale of betrayal and survival, the line between ally and adversary blurs, and the crown's weight tests the bounds of love and loyalty. Will Anastasia rise to reign as queen, or will the machinations of those around her lead to her undoing?

Word count: 3,230

Master Link || Chat with me

•••

Two-hundred and nineteen thousand— That's how many hours it has taken to get to the inevitable dreaded moment— a moment of despair.

During my childhood, I spent countless hours exploring the vast gardens and hidden rooms of the magnificent manor. It was a world of endless wonder and excitement, for a kid, where every corner held a new adventure. The privilege of having the latest fashionable clothing and receiving a top-notch education added to the enchantment of my upbringing. An enchantment presumed by those looking in, an enchantment viewed to me as a disservice. By the age of five, I was already considered bilingual, a testament to the extraordinary opportunities that surrounded me. Growing up among influential individuals, including parliament members and future leaders, painted my world with shades of prestige and influence. As the seasons changed, so did our abode, and one of my fondest memories was residing in Hillsborough Castle, nestled in the picturesque County Down. The sprawling 100-acre gardens became my playground, where I would lose myself in nature's embrace. Even though my security team might have groaned at my endless playfulness, those moments of freedom and exploration shaped the essence of my childhood.

Picture this: a glorious manor with gardens that stretch as far as the eye can see. Every nook and cranny of those rooms held secrets waiting to be discovered. The secrets that those rooms hold are rarely spoken of, nor have they been fully disclosed. There are hidden nooks and crannies, stumbling upon forgotten artefacts and family secrets. Some rooms have secret passageways, concealed behind bookshelves or ornate tapestries. Others hold hidden compartments, revealing long-lost letters and intriguing history. The Palace is like stepping into a world of intrigue and adventure, where every corner whispers stories of the past, both good and bad. Secrets that slowly reveal themselves in the worst of lights.

Then there's Windsor Castle, established on an immense hill next to the River Thames, 20 miles west of London. My time spent at Windsor is normally during Easter, during Royal Ascot and the Order of the Garter in June, and during Christmas, depending on my parents ' schedules. Windsor is old, Windsor Castle is the oldest and largest inhabited castle in the world, to be quite frank, it creeps me out. There are over 10 royal monarchs buried in St. George's Chapel, which is located in the Lower Ward of the castle and it bothers me every time I have to stay there. There are dungeons at Windsor Castle that were used as bomb shelters during WWII. It's hard to believe there was a time when the empires were under attack and Windsor stood tall with its war chambers. Chambers that were also used for torture.

Everything is mapped out on the palace grounds, everything besides the war chambers. Not many people are aware of the chambers, only the King, Queen and security personnel know where they are. I know by default, a story I will not dive into right now.

The role of the chambers in facilitating torture has been neglected for centuries and overlooked by many. Torture was used to extract confessions from those accused of crimes years ago, they were also used as hostages to barter amongst other nobles. Torture was more highly organised and more widespread during the Spanish Inquisition times. Torture is what we are going through but in a more modern era.

Prisoners could be tied to chairs and cut or pierced with implements, they could be stretched on a rack or submerged in water, and some methods even included exposing a victim to the elements or making use of rats.

Despite the endless travel, the odd childhood perspectives, and the random knowledge of the castles I have collected over the years, things have been relatively tranquil and extraordinary-ish.

Up until now...

I am surrounded by members of royalty, including dukes, princes, princesses, duchesses, and baronesses. They have all gathered here at my mother and father's request, particularly my mother who enjoys hosting informal meetings in the palace. While many people find joy in hosting events, I am not one of them. I have been involved in hosting events since I was a child. I remember sneaking away from the maids and staff to peer over the stairs and admire everyone's beautiful attire. I used to dream of the day when I could be the centre of attention. However, now that I am in that position, I long for simpler times when I could run freely in the gardens without worrying about what hat was appropriate for each occasion. I know what is about to happen, I may be naive, but I know all too well how this is about to go. "Kensington Palace can now publicly announce additional details about the forthcoming tour of Belgium this spring. We now know that the tour will begin in April. The visit to Belgium will allow us to continue a relationship between two Royal Families by meeting The King and Queen. This tour, coming shortly will also allow, Princess Anastasia Annette, Duchess of Edinburgh, to begin her royal duties as soon to be, her Royal Highness, Queen of England."

And there it is, the epitome of a surprise welcoming to my reign.

I stare at my Father as he announces the plans for the next few weeks, plans that are about to change my life. By my father, the King of England, expressing his not directly worded and unknown, abdication means that I will be reining sooner than I had thought, sooner than I had wanted. I thought I had years to go. Most Kings rule until their deathbed. I stand statue-like, unaware of how it is deemed okay to announce the news without telling me first. It isn't even direct, I have to read between the lines to see what he is doing. I am sure they had to go through the Kensington Palace publicist to do this.

Then again, the King outranks everyone and can deem anything acceptable.

I hadn't intended to begin my royal duties so soon. I don't want the duties of Queen at all. I don't want to be Queen, I thought I made that relatively clear. My Father was misguided by my responses and unwilling nature to detour this moment with every moment possible.

Everyone has this impression that having a royal title is a blessing and an achievement everybody who isn't born into it desires. Every girl dreams of becoming a princess and wearing the tiara. Still, royalty isn't about carrying a crown and parading around in lovely gowns that cost more than the average apparel. Being born into royalty and not having a typically normal life, in my opinion, is more of a curse than a blessing.

As someone with a title, I've had to mature faster than most. My tea parties were not like those of other children; mine included teddy bears and a security guard keeping a close eye on me. I'm held to higher standards and there are days when I wish those expectations would lessen. I don't want to follow royal protocol for every occasion or ensure that my hair is perfectly brushed for the Queen's Sunday morning breakfast. I don't want to constantly be shadowed by a security team or use secret tunnels to move around the palace unnoticed. I never asked for my title, and while it comes with power, I don't want to be defined by it. Unfortunately, I have no choice but to represent the family name within the monarchy.

It would have been more considerate to inform me in another manner, but the king and queen felt this was appropriate. Sometimes, they forget that their roles as monarchs should not interfere with their duties as parents.

After my father's speech, the guests mingle and discuss various topics. I often overhear interesting conversations, but amidst the glamour and formality, it can be difficult to find genuine connections.

I smile graciously as my father and Uncle come towards me. For a moment, I think about travelling in the opposite direction, but I know I can't, it would be too informal and cause too much of a scene.

God forbid the princess ever makes a scene.

"Anastasia," my father grins, giving me his signalled glare that is a good indication that he wants me to stay and not run off like my thoughts want me to.

"Father," I respond courteously, my eyes side-eyeing towards my security guard who is observing intently as he stands with his back to the wall, his hands folded in front of him as he stands tall with nystagmic eyes. I swear his eyes never miss a beat.

"Princess Anastasia, it's an honour to see you again," Syrus smiles sarcastically.

Syrus isn't the typical Uncle who chased me around the fields and played hide and seek— Well, he did— But it was not accompanied by a doting uncle full of love for his niece. It was more hatred and disgust. His hide and seek included leaving me hidden in a storage room for an hour.

I hold back the heavy sigh that's desiring to escape my lips and I force myself to proffer him a genuine smile, "It's nice to see you." I lie through my teeth to save myself from having to listen to my father express his disappointment in me.

"I hear you're becoming Queen soon." He mutters bitterly.

"She is, and every Queen needs a King by her side." My Father presses.

"Actually—" I begin, but I stop when I see my father's eyes narrow to crinkled stilts and his lips purse into a fine line. I am forced to bite my tongue on my true thoughts, "Actually, every good Queen needs a well-fitted crown," I half-heartedly joke, attempting to recover from the fact I want to tell him a Queen doesn't require a King, it's merely just suggested a Queen has a King.

My Uncle chuckles, "I'm sure they'll see fit to your crowning needs." ... "I think you are doing fine to stay single."

"Mhm," I hum, unsure of what more to say.

I swallow hard the moment my father and Uncle walk away and I finally have a minute to breathe and process the things that have occurred.

I make my way around the crowd of individuals and wander out of the ballroom area, I must escape. If I flea now, I could probably leave the Palace before I am stopped. "Princess," I hear my name being called but I don't want to turn around and face the music. Damnit, he is always on my fucking heels. "Princess," the voice again summons and I can't help but disregard him.

"Princess Anastasia, stop right there," the tone of voice my bodyguard uses causes me to stop, and it's not out of fear or because of the fact he only has to say one word before the whole palace is in lockdown and I can't move. It's because I know that tone of voice anywhere, it's sincere and it's laced with nothing but concern.

I turn around on my heel as my bodyguard shifts his eyes around, "Where are you going?" He knows exactly where I am going— anywhere but here.

I lift my shoulders into a shrug. I don't have a destination— it is more so me hammering my heels against the marble flooring until I find some common ground where I can ultimately breathe again. "You know you can't roam the palace right now."

I don't think he understands I do not care about protocol and the boundaries inflicted upon me.

"Yes," I sigh, "I know the rules and the protocol and the safety precautions," I murmur with a heavy breath. Fuck the precautions. Fuck this monarchy.

His eyes relax, and he glimpses around to make sure we are alone before he clears his throat, "What's wrong?"

I inhale a deep breath and blow out slowly, "I can't talk about it here," I respond in a whisper, my eyes already beginning to gloss over as the rippling thoughts of everything hitting me all at once.

He nods and examines the area around us, "Come with me," he instructs, tenderly urging his hand to the small of my back before escorting me away.

We stay reserved as we walk a few halls and pass several doors to various quarters while he keeps his integrity and stays alert.

We stop at the all-so-familiar place of the balcony, and he opens the doors and enables me to step out before he is right behind me and closes the doors. "We aren't allowed here."

"Never stopped us before," he responds, "Everyone is down in the West Wing. This is the East, and there's a guard right below us. I'm trained, you know?"

I nod and chuckle, I am aware he is trained for a reason, the man is trained in the use of firearms and unarmed combat, advanced driving and emergency first aid as well as close protection basics; I have all faith in him. I shouldn't, but I do.

There's a reason he's my bodyguard, he's intelligent, he has swift reflexes and he knows every position of every security member in every residence of ours. Let's not forget I have seen him practising with the 9mm Glock 17 pistols— the man is more accurate than my father— and my father has quite the shot.

I take a moment to lean against the balcony railing, my gaze fixed on the gardens below. The moonlight dances on the petals of the flowers, casting a dreamlike shimmer. The tranquillity of the night envelops me for the first time, and I can't help but feel a sense of awe at the beauty that surrounds me. It's a scene that feels straight out of a fairy tale—- a fairytale that I don't want to be in.

"Congratulations on becoming Queen so soon." He is sarcastic and raises a brow, "Didn't know that was going to come up, did you? Thought I'd be told."

I shake my head, "No, I didn't. Thank you for your concern, I don't need your judgment, too."

There's too much involved with it. I don't think I can physically do this. It's easy for someone to say they want to be a Princess or a Queen because it's made out to be a glamorous lifestyle but it comes with harbouring a lot of stress and responsibilities.

I can't expect anyone to understand what's surging through my thoughts at the concept of reining a country. But I can expect him to be a little bit more understanding. We all knew the inevitable was coming,

"Anastasia, I will never fully understand this world, but—"

I cut Harry off, promptly, "There are no buts, Harry!" I raise my voice. "What do you think comes after he hands me the damn crown? A Queen who reigns alone? No. They don't want me to rule, they want to roll the stone and push me into silence."

Britain has had several monarchs through the centuries, though far more Kings than Queesn have ruled. There have been eight reigning Queens.

How many of them ruled without a King?

One. Elizabeth I, Queen of England and Ireland.

Harry grows withdrawn for a moment, his eyes fading to grey as he comes to realise just what I'm trying to tell him. Me becoming Queen abolishes mine and his relationship.

He's not royalty.

The monarch and the people wouldn't regard him as fit to be King, they don't regard me as fit to be Queen.

"Well, do you want me to propose now or later?" Harry questions in a joking way. His humour perhaps being the only thing to come to mind with this matter.

I roll my eyes, "You are not ready for that torture."

"You sure? I might have a torture kink," he responds cheekily and I shake my head.

It is over now. It was fun while it lasted.

"I guess this is where it ends," I heavily sigh, looking over at him with regret.

Regret is one hell of a hard pill to swallow. It sinks itself in the bottom of my heart, occasionally twisting like a knife, a grave reminder that wearing my heart on my sleeve and putting emotion over logic is tragic. I shouldn't have started this. I should have been wiser, and more diligent with my emotions and how I decided to spread them between us. I should have had more sense than drag him into something he cannot be accepted into.

Harry's hand falls to the small of my back, "Do I get a say in any of this?"

"No," I respond, holding back a small smile.

He chuckles, "You've lost your damn mind if you think I don't," he whispers in my ear quietly.

Before I can respond, his hand moves swiftly from its position on my back, and I feel his body shift. I glance over my shoulder to see my mother standing in the doorway, a martini glass in her hand. "Did I interrupt?" she mischievously smiles, gliding the olive off her toothpick with her teeth before indulging in the flavour of it. A stout vodka martini with an olive— her signature drink.

"Always," I respond with a smile. This woman is always lurking in the shadows, she sees everything and she knows everything— I am not fully convinced that she isn't aware of the fling between me and the security personnel.

She raises a brow before looking Harry up and down, "You're with me," she points towards him, "I don't like who's on my service. He keeps taking my drinks," she informs us.

"What makes you think I won't?" Harry questions.

"You're higher up in command, you're handsome— not stupid," my mother responds. "Chop-chop, I have a bartender waiting, and a crowd of people I need to pretend to like."

My mother is a quiet Queen consort. She is loved by everyone in the public, and she attends almost all events, but she chooses to stay quiet. She's the one who is usually sipping on gin or vodka in the corner, watching and observing. A lot of the time, dignitaries and higher-ranking officials choose to gravitate towards my father and me— they leave her alone— much to her liking, at least that is how it seems.

Why she remains so silent, I cannot say. She is a brilliant woman, one whose potential is vast enough to command a reign so formidable she would be feared across lands. Yet her quietude suggests a subtler strategy, a silence imposed not by her own choosing but by the machinations of those who fear her ascent to power.

"Come on, Princess, it's time to go back," Harry opens the door for me with a warming smile painting across his lips. He's cheerier than I am. "I'll burn this monarchy to the ground before I let it destroy us," he whispers just for us to hear. While he gets to watch my mother sip vodka and slither towards the back of the crowds undetectable by most, I get thrown into the lion's den, head first.

Will he really burn it down for me? I hope so. I would like to see it burn and end it all.

♔♔♔

[carolinasgirl]

incase you wanted to know where i’ve been. sex relief harry in an older life!

coming may 1st to wattpad at tumblr @carolinasgirl

[elioslover]

Ooh send me requests for Harry!!

"call me up at midnight" -late night call dialogue

prompt list by @novelbear ᵔᴥᵔ

"did i wake you?"

"i missed hearing your voice.."

"when can i see you again?"

"i just left like five minutes ago." "yeah, but i miss you already."

"sing to me."

"your voice is so relaxing."

"if i fall asleep, don't hang up." "i never do, love."

"i wish you were here."

"can we talk?"

"is everything okay?" "i just need a distraction.."

"how was your day? i want to hear everything."

"it's getting late, darling."

"are you falling asleep?" "...." "alright."

"you won't believe what i heard from [name]."

"what's wrong? you're never up this late."

"talk to me. what's going on."

"i'll see you in the morning, 'kay?"

"i know you didn't just hang up on me without saying 'i love you'."

"you're the only one i'll talk to this late at night, you know that?"

"only a few more weeks, i promise."

[fkinavocado]

Warnings: 18+, smut, subrry, unprotected sex, friends to lovers

Part One/ alternatively, read on wattpad

Pretty like yours: Part Two (word count: 8.5k)

Harry was avoiding you.

At first you thought you were imagining things, but as the evening progressed, you realised he really was avoiding you. 

You didn’t know how you’d ended up here, though.

Back at the hotel on that weekend beach trip, you’d heard your (very loud) group of friends coming back from dinner and you both scurried to put some clothes on and unlock the door, just in time for Mitch to open said door to the room he was sharing with Harry and for a few more of your friends to make themselves right at home on the bed that you’d just had sex on.

And that was some pretty amazing sex. Amazing enough that you were expecting a repeat, but not only did that not happen, nothing else happened either. You were leaving the next day, and, although there really hadn’t been a moment where the two of you could talk it out, he never reached out when you got back home.

You were expecting a call, a text, anything to at least acknowledge that he’d also had a great time in your company. 

Instead,… radio silence.

For the first few days you just kept finding excuses for him. Maybe he was feeling confused, after all- he’d just gotten out of a long term relationship. Maybe he still loved Marissa. Maybe he was feeling guilty. Hell, maybe he regretted it completely. 

But… you were friends, first and foremost. And you’d slept together, which, even in your books as someone who enjoyed casual sex, still meant something, something worth acknowledging!

As days went on it was becoming more and more apparent that Harry had just had a bit of fun with you, and he wasn’t even planning on a repeat based on how he was acting like it never happened. You blamed yourself for making your promiscuous ways known amongst your group. You’d never thought of it in that light before, because you’d never been hurt in the process before. If you ever hooked up with someone it was clear from the get go that was all it was ever going to be. But now, the fact that Harry had assumed that’s all you wanted and nothing more… when it definitely wasn’t the case, well, it didn’t sit well with you at all.

But you’d have never expected him to completely ignore you once you all hung out again, least of all at your friends’ wedding. This was downright rude, and it was making you feel pretty shitty. You’d looked forward to it, knowing he’d be there, even gotten all dolled up looking your very best. You’d been more than ready to finally talk it out with him and maybe, hopefully, figure out what was going on. Part of you still refused to believe he just didn’t give a fuck.

But looking at him now, you tended to believe it.

Harry was keeping himself busy at all times, talking to seemingly everyone else. Dancing with girls that weren’t you. Laughing with your friends and people you didn’t even know. Hell, he was having a grand ol’ time, never once even glancing your way.

For the first half of the day, you just wallowed in your disappointment. You’d never have pegged Harry for the fuckboy that would operate a hit and run, but… at the end of the day, you two really weren’t that close to know for sure. 

But since this was a wedding you were both attending, your friends’ wedding, you couldn’t really sulk for the entirety of it. So for the party you tried your best to put on a brave act and pretend like you were having a good time. Even flirt a bit, preferably in his vicinity.

Because if there was one thing for certain, that was Harry’s attraction for you. He couldn’t have faked that. And since he was proving that boys will be boys, this would probably not sit well with him either.

The guy you were currently dancing with on the same dancefloor Harry was dancing with some (albeit very pretty) girl was getting a bit too handsy for your liking, and normally you’d have set some boundaries and maybe even stopped dancing with him altogether- that is if you weren’t noticing Harry scowling all of a sudden. You still never caught him looking your way, but he was visibly upset, and judging by the sweet smile on his partner’s face, it wasn’t because of her. 

The way this guy was downright groping you was making you feel even worse, though. Reaffirming somehow what had been dancing through your mind for the past 2 weeks since the beach trip- that you were seen as  an easy girl and that you’d been foolish to think Harry would even assume otherwise based on everything he knew about you directly from the source. And after getting cheated on, the last thing he needed was someone who he thought was putting out for everyone as easily as you had with him. Even telling him you’d had a huge crush on him for the longest time, he still must’ve had his mind made up about you, and you were just someone he knew he could have some fun with, no strings attached.

But for the purpose of making Harry jealous, you allowed this guy to get a little too close. You didn’t even know his name and he was trying to kiss you, his hands dangerously close to your bum. 

You kept dodging his attempts but still flirted with him, which only spurred him on. And chancing some glances Harry’s way, you told yourself it was worth it. Especially when you finally caught him staring your way, and he didn’t even bother pretending like he hadn’t been.

What you didn’t expect though was for him to say something to the girl he was dancing with without breaking eye contact with you, then leaving her in the middle of the dancefloor, approaching you in quick, long strides. 

“Sorry mate, need to borrow Y/N for a quick minute.”

And just like that you found yourself being ushered away, Harry’s hand on the small of your back urging you forward at a steady pace.

“Why are you doing this?” he finally spat as soon as you turned a corner a bit further away from the heart of the party.

You’d never seen Harry like this. He was usually just this easy going guy, almost took things in stride, you’d never seen him get into a heated argument with someone. His tone and body language were therefore taking you aback. Sure, you’d expected a reaction out of him- actually, hoped for one, the moment you decided you’d start openly flirting with other guys there right in front of him, but this was surprising.

“Doing what?”

He took a step closer towards you, making you step back and into the wall behind. You weren’t scared of him, not in the least, if anything his pained expression overshadowed his frown lines. “It’s bad enough that you… you, you used me… but this?! Why must you rub it in my face like this?”

“...Used you?!”

Harry scoffed, taking in your confused expression. “Yeah. Used. Took advantage of. Discarded me like it meant nothing the second Mitch and the others came back from dinner. I know you’re fine to  just… hook up with people, but you never even so much as looked my way again that whole night! Like I was some sort of dirty secret you had to keep away from the group. Like I was… fucking worthless…”

“Harry…”

“And then you never gave me a sign afterwards, confirming that indeed, you’d just had your fun and it meant nothing–”

“Excuse me?! Harry, you never gave a sign afterwards either!”

“I tried seeking you out that very night, tried catching your eye, I wanted to talk about it, see where we stood, but when you never so much as looked my way once– not even once! I just figured… if I was wrong, then surely you’d say something but then the next day you were already gone before I even came down for breakfast!”

“Yeah– I had to leave early ‘cause I had to go into work that afternoon to make up for Friday… God, Harry! Way to jump to conclusions! I didn’t want the rest to know, because it’s none of their business, not because it was a secret. We hadn’t had the chance to talk about it so I didn’t know how to handle it, and I just got extra paranoid, I guess, in trying to not seem suspicious. Like, I was mortified when they nearly walked in on us, and our hair was all over the place, your braids had gotten undone, the bed was a mess, I’m sure the room reeked of sex, and I just felt like everybody knew! And I guess I just avoided looking at you altogether to try and save face… I didn’t even realise I was doing it, honestly. They never brought it up, though, so… I guess I was just being paranoid for nothing.”

Harry hung his head shaking it in disbelief then turned away from you, pacing a few steps then turning back to you. “You know, you could at least be honest with me now. Just tell me, give it to me straight. I can take it. Just tell me I wasn’t good enough–”

“What? Harry–”

“I mean, clearly there must be something wrong with me, right? Since my ex cheated and you wouldn’t even look me in the eye. Clearly it’s me.”

You pushed yourself off the wall “Harry, stop this! What the fuck are you on about! I swear that was it, I was just paranoid they all knew we’d just fucked, and then I had to leave first thing the next morning but I waited for you to call! Alright?! I waited! You just ghosted me! Like… why was I the one that should’ve reached out, first of all, and secondly- I thought you just needed some space. Time to process what had happened! You’re clearly hurting, and you’re clearly not over Marissa, and you might still love her for all I know and maybe you regretted it! Maybe it was just a heat of the moment thing that you regretted and just wanted to forget, maybe it’d been just something to try and get her out of your system, or to get even with her– fuck if I know! I just know that, at first, I kept telling myself you needed some time to figure out what you wanted and how you felt about it. And then days just kept rolling one after the other with no word from you and I figured I must’ve been right. For all I knew you and Marissa may have gotten back together!”

Harry watched you shout all that in his face, his nostrils flared and chest heaving, then ran his hands through his long hair and down his face. He slowly removed them after calming down a bit, “No, we’re definitely not back together. I hardly had any time to mope about her and what she’s done, I’ve been too focused on you. And not just… in a bad way. Like, I wasn’t just hurting over feeling rejected by you. Like, even now, dragging you here to talk it out… even watching you blatantly flirt with all those guys…” he eyed your right hand then reached to grab it and after a quick look around to make sure no one was watching he brought it to his crotch, pressing his hand over yours to make sure you felt just how hard he was underneath his dress pants. “Feel that? Tell me why I can’t make this go away. No matter how much I abuse myself it’s right back up again at the thought of what happened between us. You made me feel–” he inhaled sharply, twitching against your palm and your mouth fell agape at the sudden change in his demeanour. “Fuck, Y/N, like no one’s ever made me feel before. And then you took it away…” he whined, and you squeezed your hand against his hard-on making his whine turn into a moan.

You could see someone exit the bathroom from your peripheral vision to your far right, and you removed your hand and grabbed his loose tie instead, dragging him towards it. Praying no one was inside, you pulled him into the bathroom for disabled, and luckily, it was vacant. Harry laughed- genuinely laughed at how ridiculous and wrong this was, of course, and you just yanked at his tie harder before you locked the door behind you. “Listen, if someone needs it, all they have to do is knock!”

“Sure. Won’t be weird at all when two people scramble out of it.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we reach it. Thought you had a bit of a problem worth tending to, or was I mistaken?”

Harry’s eyes darkened considerably at your proposal but he seemed to sober up just as quickly when he stopped your hand from reaching his belt. “Wait. Wait, what does this mean? We’ve both clearly fucked up waiting for the other to reach out, I don’t wanna assume anything anymore. Or wait for you to make the first move. I want you. More than just for tonight, more than just for this. I don’t do casual. You should’ve known this about me by now, but I understand why you thought I maybe wanted to try something casual after that whole long term shitshow. I know you do, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but if that’s all you want with this, then I don’t know if we should–”

You kissed him, cutting him short. He was just so adorable trying to blurt all that out and you just couldn’t wait a moment longer before you told him what he wanted to hear “Harry, in case you forgot what I told you last time, when, granted, you may have been a bit distracted, so I’ll let it slide– I’ve had the fattest crush on you ever since we met. And no, that doesn’t just mean I’ve been meaning to jump your bones, it means- what you experienced tonight? Watching me flirt with those guys? That was nothing compared to how I’ve had to watch you and Marissa for all that time, watching you not only flirt with her, but… care for her, respect her, make her laugh, soothe her,... love her. I haven’t had that, with anymore. I don’t know what it’s like to be in love. Don’t know what it’s like to be loved. And maybe the reason why I haven’t given anyone a real chance all this time is because, since I’ve met you, you raised the bar to the point where all the guys I meet just fall short. They can’t match up to the standard I have now, which is you. And I’m not saying this to put any pressure on this, whatever this is… Maybe it’s not going to turn into that, with us, and it’s fine. But for the first time, I feel something different, with you. It’s why I was acting like a fucking child just then, because I was hurt. I felt like I had my chance with you and blew it.”

“Fuck, Y/N… You didn’t blow it. Not at all. I did, I should’ve done this proper. Should’ve taken it slow. But I thought this is how you liked to go about things, just jump right in, I wanted to be… what you wanted. Wanted to be good for you, and maybe then you’d give me a chance. Had I known that’s how you felt about me I would’ve waited, asked you out, done it all proper. Instead, I just acted like all the guys before me… I guess… I must’ve not met the standard I’d set myself.”

“No, that’s not it. I don’t regret what happened, Harry. Not for a moment. I regret being foolish and overthinking it, and I should’ve just reached out. We were both a couple of idiots, can we agree on that?”

“Alright,” his sweet smile adorned his face once more, his deep dimples carving into his cheeks. “Can we agree on something else?”

“Hm?”

“That we’re a thing? Like, officially? I still wanna take you out and backtrack a bit, but we know eachother enough that I think we can tell if it’s something we both want or not…”

You matched his smile and his only got wider at your reaction. “Yes, Harry. We’re a thing.”

He let go of your hand and used both his to cup your cheeks and kiss you properly. It was hard to kiss while smiling as wide as you both were, but eventually you both relaxed into it and it slowly got more and more intense. 

He broke the kiss when he suddenly pulled away and groaned, resting his forehead against yours. “Why can’t I keep myself in check around you? This is not how I wanted this to happen, you deserve better. Not just another quickie hiding away from our friends...”

“I decide what I deserve, and I think I’ve earned watching your pretty face all blissed out while you come inside my mouth. Haven’t I?”

“Fuck, Y/N…”

“Will you deny me, Harry?”

“Of course not, baby, you can have anything you want. I’m all yours...” Harry groaned then leaned his forehead against yours “I just hate that this is all happening in the loo like this.”

You both chuckled at that and you whispered “Well, we’re not taking the traditional route, we’ve already established that. But we can wait, if it’s putting you off.”

Harry exhaled shakily “I know I should do the gentlemanly thing and have us wait, but if you don’t touch me soon I’m afraid I won’t live to see that day.”

You giggled at that “What a drama queen. We can’t have that though, can we? I just love to see you all desperate for me like this. Would’ve been disappointed if you made us wait, puppy…”

At that you pressed your palm flat against his erection yet again and he moaned, letting you push him against the door and kiss down his neck as you worked his belt loose.

You slid down to your knees, your slip dress doing a poor job at cushioning your skin against the cold, dirty tiles, but you honestly couldn’t give less of a fuck, not when you’d taken his pants down with you and was face to face with his boxers. Harry had unbuttoned his shirt hastily, pulling it open, and his dick was pushing out of the waistband of his boxers, his leaky tip visible. 

“Is it wrong that I’ve been dying to do this? Get my mouth on you. Even while being mad at you�� I kept fantasising about what you might taste like.” You nosed at his erection through the cloth and you could already hear him panting in anticipation as you pulled him out. “You smell so good. Always smell so good. Love your cologne, but love the smell of your skin, the smell of you, even more.”

“Please… please…”

“Please what, puppy? Be a good boy and use your words for me,” you fluttered your eyelashes looking up at him, and it was taking every ounce of willpower to pry your eyes off of his cock. It really was a sight to behold and you felt your mouth water, eager to get a taste finally.

You loved when he got all flustered, but even so, he managed a breathy “please take me inside that pretty mouth, I can’t wait any longer, need to feel you, missed you…”

He sounded so desperate and needy you didn’t even wait for him to finish before you began kissing along his shaft, wet sloppy kisses, getting him all slippery before fitting the head in your mouth. It was already quite the mouthful and you moaned around him hoping to convey the message. 

Harry slumped against the door, losing his footing a bit.  “Oh, fuck, Y/N…”

“Taste so good. You’re just sweet all over aren’t you, pretty?” Harry whined, he was such a slut for a bit of praise and you loved it. He deserved every bit of it anyway, visibly melting at the praise but his cock got even harder if anything. “You’re gonna burst baby, I can feel it, can taste it. Want me to swallow it all up? I bet it’s gonna be a lot… you’re so big and heavy in my mouth, probably gonna choke on it…”

“Fuck, please, yes, please, please– I’m gonna–”

You deepthroated him then, and you felt him stiffen completely as you did so, then his whole body shuddered violently as he came down your throat, flooding your mouth instantly as you pulled back up a bit, choking like you predicted you would. You swallowed around him quickly, but could still feel his come dribbling down through the corners of your mouth, and Harry tried to wipe it away as he was crying out in pleasure- still careful with you even in the throes of passion.

When you finally pulled away you just stared at each other, both panting heavily. “What happened to asking for permission, hm?”

Harry’s eyes widened ashe helped you up, tucking himself away, snapping right back into action with the realization of what he’d done. He stammered to say something but you pulled him by the tie he was still wearing even with his dress shirt unbuttoned and kissed him passionately. He moaned deeply and you figured he must’ve never tasted himself before to garner this reaction from him, even now after he’d orgasmed. “You’re so in trouble, puppy. I let it slide once, the first time- remember? You’re not getting off the hook this time.”

Harry gulped and if you didn’t know any better you thought he was gonna ask you to make good of this threat right there and then. “Gonna punish me?”

You nodded. “Yes. But I’ll spring it upon you unsuspectedly. Just know you’re in for it. For now… I think we need to get back out there before people report us missing.”

Harry whined. “But…”

“Hm? Are you not satisfied with what you got? You greedy puppy…”

“Of course I am. Jesus, Y/N. I saw stars for a moment there. I just–I want…”

“You need a bit of aftercare, don’t you? Want me to hold you and love on you a bit?”

Harry paused, as if not expecting you to have guessed it. “–Yes. I want that. Very much. And I want to make you feel good too…”

“Tell you what. Let’s go dance. You can hold me as tight as you want. You can kiss me. I don’t care what our friends say or if they put two and two together. Alright? As for returning the favor, there’s no such thing, Harry. We’re not keeping score, are we?”

“Of course not. It’s not that I feel I have to, I want to. I just wish I could take you home tonight… but I do want to take you out first, on a real date, spoil you a bit. Wanna treat you right.”

“Coming down my throat is treating me right, Harry. I wanted this, remember? I’m not a porcelain doll. Trust me. And I will wait, because I wanna treat you right too, and I can tell this is important to you. Now let’s go out there, if you’re comfortable with our friends seeing us together, that is.”

Harry scoffed as he righted all his clothing and you checked your appearance in the mirror, “they’re lucky I’m not stealing the DJ’s mic to announce it to the whole venue.”

You laughed at that as Harry checked if the coast was clear for the two of you to hurry out of the bathroom. He then took your hand and led you back to the dancefloor, where, as luck would have it, they’d switched to some slow dancing. Just what Harry needed, as he pulled you into his arms, your head rested on his chest, you swayed to the music and pretended it was just the two of you in that moment you’d never forget.

*

Your friends were nice enough not to interrupt your moment on the dancefloor and even afterwards, they didn’t inquire, probably so they didn’t make the evening about you two, since this was someone else’s wedding- but boy did they blow up your phone the following days. Harry shared that he’d been answering texts about it just the same, and, well, it was official. The two of you were a couple and your friends were nothing but surprised. 

Of course most of the girls had figured something had happened that day at the beach when they came back at the hotel and heard the door unlock just before they reached it. Then there was other incriminating evidence- your dishevelled appearances, the unmade bed, and the charged atmosphere. Not to mention, it reeked of sex, as per Sarah. 

You were glad it was all out in the open though, you didn’t wanna have to sneak around even if it would’ve probably been better to navigate this at your own pace at least at the beginning. You two weren’t planning on spending time with your friends too soon, though. The first free night that worked for both of you was already booked for the infamous date Harry was gonna take you on.

You agreed to meet at the restaurant solely because you didn’t trust yourselves to have Harry pick you up from your place and ditch the whole date altogether. You hadn’t seen eachother since the wedding, almost an entire week, and, well… texting was nice, but even that you were losing control over. 

You two needed to be alone, ASAP.

But the date was also something you were looking genuinely forward to. You’d barely had any time coming home from work to shower and change into something a lil bit more flirty, touched up your makeup the tiniest bit and rushed to get to the restaurant where Harry texted he’d already gotten to, a little bit earlier than what you’d agreed on. 

You wanted to text him back that he was a cute, eager puppy but you refrained. You genuinely wanted this date to be more than just sexual innuendo, you felt like you two needed time one on one doing more than just devouring each other.

When you finally arrived, Harry’s face lit up immediately upon seeing you. He pecked your lips and helped you to your seat and you were already wondering how you were gonna get through the night without another bathroom interlude. He looked absolutely yummy, his signature skinny jeans and a flowy, half buttoned down short sleeve shirt, his curls brushing his shoulders and his eyes rounded and sparkly. You made a mental note not to stare at his pink, shiny lips but you caught yourself doing so an embarrassing amount of times before you even got to order.

You weren’t hungry in the moment though, you barely touched your food, and it looked like Harry was on the same boat. You were too busy talking, and the conversation was flowing. You talked about your common friends for a bit to ease into it, then it went to your work places, then the inevitable subject arose- your exes.

“You know I’ve never really had a serious relationship. So there’s not much to tell… you can ask me if you want, but I genuinely wouldn’t know where to start and what would even be relevant. I am, however, interested in hearing more about what went down with Marissa… but we don’t have to talk about it right now. Just… feel free to open up whenever you feel comfortable. Or, I don’t know. Tell me to get lost if you just don’t wanna talk about it at all.”

Harry smiled at that but he’d visibly gotten quieter since the subject had been brought up. “No, I want to talk to you about it. As you know it’s still fairly recent but that’s not the issue… the issue is how it ended and I just– I don’t know how to handle my feelings about it? I feel like I’ve just kept pushing them down and I don’t know how to work through them so that I can properly move on. I don’t want it to affect us in any shape or form. And I don’t want you to feel like I’m dwelling on the past instead of being present here with you, ‘cause it’s not like that…”

You reached across the table for his hand and squeezed it, but he didn’t let it go and you smiled at how nervous he seemed to be talking about this. “Have you spoken to anyone about this? The guys,...?”

“No, I mean… you saw how much they like to tease me about it. Can’t exactly open up and give them even more ammo can I? I’ve been talking to my sister a bit about it… I don’t know. She says I need closure. That I need to confront Marissa about what happened and hold her accountable somehow. But I just, I don’t know… isn’t that a bit pathetic? She cheated on me, what more is there left to say? I can blame her all I want, that won’t change what happened.”

“Wish I had any sound advice, but I just don’t know what you could do to make yourself feel better, baby. I’m sorry. Times like these when I really wish I had some experience in matters of the heart.”

Harry looked at you from underneath his lashes, “you really haven’t been in love before?”

You shrugged, “I know. I’m a weirdo, huh? I don’t know, it just never happened…”

“You’re not a weirdo,” Harry squeezed your hand. “I know it’s very caveman of me, but I love that. You haven’t really let anyone in, nobody has won your heart over, and I’m all the more excited to maybe– hopefully be your first.”

You mirrored Harry’s charged gaze and you had to admit, he could be onto something there, if the way your heart sped up at that was any indication.

“But… yeah… having said that. It was wise of you to protect your heart like that. I just throw myself head first into it. I fall hard and fast. And contrary to recent events, that’s not something that applies to all areas of my life, I promise.” 

You threw your head back laughing and you had to remind yourself you were at a nice restaurant. Harry’s goofy grin made it even more funny. “Alright, okay… we’ll… assess later on. Are you telling me that you just fall for anyone, though? Am I just one of many?” You flipped your hair dramatically, evidently making a joke but Harry pulled your arm by the hand so that you scooted closer still.

“Not in a million years, Y/N. You’re very special to me, always have been. Please don’t say that. Yes I may fall easily but I lose interest pretty easily, too. Have had many short term relationships. This might be the reason I don’t do casual, I just can’t keep my heart out of it. But down the line I realize it’s just infatuation, and that they aren’t who I painted them to be in my head, you know? I idealize people a bit, I guess. I’m dramatic like that, quite the hopeless romantic. My past relationships have fizzled out pretty early, apart from this one with Marissa and a couple before her. But you? I’ve known you for so long… and you are who you say you are, you know? You’re so unapologetically you. I’ve seen the good, the bad–”

“The bad?!”

“Yeah, sure, like how cranky you are in the morning, how bad you are at remembering birthdays…”

You scoffed, kicking his shin under the table playfully, “excuse me?!”

“Oh, shush,” he grinned. “Like I was saying- I’ve seen the good, the bad, and even while being in love I still had a soft spot for you all that time. Kinda made me question my integrity.”

“You mean when you were fantasizing about me while fucking your ex?”

Harry shook his head, covering his face with his free hand, “I knew I shouldn’t have told you about that.”

“You never told me it was while you were in bed with her! Earlier when you told me you kinda alluded to just thinking about me when you got yourself off, I was just pulling your leg just now!” You laughed incredulously, “Jesus, Harry, for real?!”

Harry turned a deep shade of red and you had to fight his hand away from his face. He bit his lower lip and shrugged, “I tried not to. It just kept happening. I felt really bad for it, too, so much so that it kinda…” he cleared his throat, turning more bashful, “affected my performance. I still wonder if this is why she cheated, perhaps I just wasn’t satisfying her with the way it’d die on me midway like that… it happened a few times, not too many, but still she kept making it out to be a huge deal which just made me overthink it going further.”

“Oh my God, Harry. Baby. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know this was such a touchy subject. Sorry I brought it up…”

“No, don’t be… I even thought I should mention it anyway, just in case it… happens again? Like, it didn’t, back at the hotel, but I was so excited it would’ve been impossible i reckon, plus- yeah. It wasn’t my best performance, let’s just put it that way. But hey at least that didn’t happen,” he chuckled nervously.

“Wait, no, don’t deflect with humour. You alluded at this back at the wedding, too. Said how you thought you maybe hadn’t been good enough and that’s why I hadn’t reached out? Harry, you’re insane– like, first of all, let’s just clear that up, alright? I’m not in the habit of stroking men’s ego just for the hell of it. In fact, I refrain from doing so because, really, that’s just a bad idea generally, let’s be honest. But, Harry, baby, that was just amazing. You made me feel incredible. Plus it was a new dynamic for you, I could tell you were nervous and wanted to do good, and you delivered an amazing performance all things considered. I was really impressed, to tell you the truth. Kinda been wondering if you rose up to the expectation, and you surpassed it.”

“I–wow... Really?”

“Uhm, yes?! You’re the real deal baby. Not that often you come across a well endowed man that actually knows how to operate the equipment.”

Harry bit his lower lip again, this time to avoid grinning ear to ear. Here it was, that praise kink again. You wondered if you’d live to regret telling him all this later on, but for now, it was pleasing you tremendously to see him react like this to your words of affirmation.

“Ahem, well… wow. Ok. Thank you for reassuring me. But as I previously stated, and not to sound like all this has already gone to my head… I can definitely do better.”

“Colour me intrigued.”

Harry cleared his throat, “but, just to backtrack a bit. I don’t want you to think this is something I normally do.”

“What?”

“Think about other women in bed. It’d never happened to me before. Actually, this whole discussion started from me telling you how special you were, the way you never really left my mind. But I’m realizing this might make you feel weird, or uncomfortable, so I apologise. I’m just being honest… I’m not proud of it, by any means, Marissa didn’t deserve that- well, not at the moment she didn’t. But I just couldn’t stop thinking about you. That being said, I don’t want this to make you ever wonder if I’m thinking about someone else while we’re together. I really do mean it when I say you’re special, Y/N. It’s not just the physical attraction, it’s like I said… I’ve known you a long time now. You’re someone I want to be around, like, all the time. Wanna bask in your presence. I realized I don’t feel the same way about any of my other friends. Haven’t felt the same about my exes aside from the initial honeymoon phase, either. I just… never get my fill of you, you know?”

You sat there, taking that all in and you had the presence of mind to come to the realization that no one had ever spoken about you like this, ever. Nobody has made you feel special. You didn’t consider yourself to be special, anyway. This was completely novel to you, and you had no idea how to react to it other than feel your heart rate pick up again. “Gosh, Harry… that’s… a lot to take in.”

Harry then hastily sat up and moved to the seat closer to you instead of across the table, still holding your hand this whole time. “I’m sorry, am I coming on too strong? Or did I make you feel uncomfortable? Both?”

You smiled at his worry and finally released your hand from his to caress the side of his face, “no, pretty. It’s just… no one’s made me feel like that before… you know? Like I was special, somehow. It’s just so foreign to me, and I don’t know what to do with myself now. All I know is that I’ve always felt the same about you, but, Harry- everyone feels that way around you. I mean, this can’t be news to you, surely you notice the attention you get everywhere you go, you just have this magnetic quality about you. It’s the way you give the person you’re talking to your undivided attention, make them feel like all your focus is concentrated on them and nothing else, the way you just light up a room and draw everyone to you like moths to a flame, your charisma, your charm, your gorgeous self. So me telling you how special you are must be something you’ve heard plenty of times. I just never thought someone like you could feel like I was special. Sure, the chemistry between us is undeniable but that’s a different matter, at least that’s what I think you meant…”

“It is, of course it is. I’m so excited for this, Y/N. And it’s not just the usual way I get excited about a new partner. It’s like… finally, I’m finally with the person I wanted all along, feels like I’ve arrived somewhere rather than just departed from somewhere else, you know?”

You twirled a curl of his around your finger, biting your lower lip. “You’re saying some pretty deep, beautiful stuff to me tonight, Harry. I didn’t know you were like this.”

“A goob”?

You yanked on his hair strand a bit in admonition, “no, silly. Romantic. But not in a cheesy way. I like it. I really like it.”

“And I like you pulling my hair.”

You squinted at him, “it comes and goes, though, doesn’t it?”

Harry laughed and scooted his seat even closer. “I’ll be romantic for you, I’m just trying my hardest not to come on too strong. I’ll be whatever you want me to be. Can we go, so I can get right to it?”

You stared at his lips for a split moment before he went in for the kiss, and shortly after, you were both in an uber trying to keep it PG. 

And failing for the most part.

As soon as you got to your place, though (the closest to the restaurant), you were all over eachother. Clothes were discarded hastily and you fumbled into bed finally, not really sure how you’d made it there.

Of course you’d anticipated bringing Harry home with you tonight, and you’d gone over several scenarios, things you’d been eager to try out with him, see what he liked, how far you could push his newfound submissiveness. All that went out the window though when you had him pin you down deliciously, his heavy cock resting over your navel, a very visual reminder of how deep he was going to bury himself into you in a moment.

You just couldn’t care less about all you’d planned out, all you knew was that you wanted him inside of you, the sooner, the better. And Harry was clearly on the same page when you pumped him a few times and painted his tip through your folds, positioning him at your entrance. 

Normally, you were the kind of person who needed a bit of foreplay. Maybe a clitoral orgasm first to get you ready for a vaginal one. But as soon as he bottomed out you could already feel yourself right on the edge. 

You’d been with big guys before, and yes, it helped, but sex was so much more than just that. A good orgasm wasn’t automatically a result of a precise technique just anyone (other than yourself, maybe) could apply. 

Harry just got you there. Everything about him got you there. 

From his gorgeous face, the way he kissed you, so wet and sloppy and intense, the way he breathed you in, got right under your skin to the point where it was like you were high on him.

The way he held you and felt you all over, a heady mix of gentle and assertive, tentative and possessive; the way he looked at you like he could eat you alive if you weren’t careful, to the way he felt inside of you, filling you up so perfectly like you were fucking made for eachother.

His pretty moans, you loved how vocal he was. His whimpers, his grunts, his huffs and the way he trembled when you kissed him as if that was the absolute peak of intimacy. 

It was embarrassing how quickly you were coming around his cock. He was so pleased with himself he almost came then and there from the shock of it alone. “But I want another one. I can feel it, you’re going to ruin me with this next one, come on baby. Let go, I’ll catch you.”

He abused your clit then, thumbed at it just right, made you feel like you couldn’t possibly fit under your skin for a moment longer, and that’s when you squirted all over him, for the first time in your life, something you’d always suspected yourself capable of but just never got there, not even on your own.

Harry added to the wet mess immediately after, pulling out and painting all over you in turn. 

Your legs were shaking something fierce when he dragged you into the shower but he managed to soothe your muscles into complete relaxation, caressing you all over and kissing you incessantly.

“I’ll be right back to get you, just gonna go change the bedsheets, alright? Just stay here under the water so you don’t get cold, baby.”

He was gone before you could sober up enough to tell him where to look for the bedlinen. You were so drunk on him, you felt like maybe switching the water to cold would bring you back on earth if only just momentarily.

But Harry was back surprisingly fast, wrapped you up in a fluffy towel and unwrapped you before tucking you under the duvet. You didn’t ask where he was going, you just loved watching him prance around with a towel around his waist, made a mental note to ask him to ditch it next time.

Next time. Your heart rate picked up again realizing there would be a next time, and a time after that. You were a couple, he wasn’t going anywhere in the morning. And instead of having this notion terrify you, it made you feel all warm inside.

You knew this was trouble, didn’t need anyone to narrate this in a Morgan Freeman voice for you to realize you were probably falling in love for the first time. All the cliche signs were there. But not even that realization terrified you.

Huh.

Harry was back with a tall glass of water, insisted you drank a bit before scooting in under the duvet next to you. Skin to skin, fresh sheets, and he still smelled divinely like himself. He spooned you and held you close and you were asleep before you could even go over everything that had happened in your head.

You did, however, wake up at one point in the night. You weren’t accustomed to sleeping with anyone, really. The short term relationships you’d had still didn’t automatically mean your exes would be spending the night often. 

Harry had shifted a bit, splayed on his back, occupying most of the bed like a huge starfish. Funny, since he’d definitely been sharing beds for most of his adulthood, and still didn’t know how to keep to his side of the bed.

You weren’t sure how late it was, but the morning wasn’t close yet. It was definitely nowhere near close enough for the morning wood Harry was sporting. Which meant it probably wasn’t the reason for his impressive erection, he was probably dreaming of something really nice, hopefully you. 

How sad would it be if he was already thinking of some other woman like he promised wouldn’t happen again, you laughed to yourself. You couldn’t believe he’d admitted that to you, even. He’d been so vulnerable with you, so open. You realized you’d never really gotten to what had happened between him and Marissa, apart from what you already knew. You made a mental note to continue that conversation later on, but for now, you had other plans.

It was just too tempting not to. 

When Harry finally gasped, he almost deepthroated you with how he jerked awake. His guttural groan covered your choking sounds, though, and you didn’t let up. He reached to card his fingers through your hair and you popped off of him, “nuh-huh. Where’s your manners, puppy?”

It took him a bit to register the entirety of the situation but when he finally did he whined “Fuck, Y/N… can I touch you, baby? You’re making me feel so good. God, that mouth of yours...”

“Alright, go ahead. You like this, then? Feel good?”

“I feel… euphoric.”

“Good.” You paused to stroke him a bit as you spoke to him assertively, “because this is all you’re getting. Gonna edge you, over and over, until I fall asleep mouthing at this pretty cock of yours. How’s that sound?”

Harry whined again, even more pathetically, “but… you mean, you won’t let me finish? At all?”

You chuckled mockingly, “that’s right pretty, and do you know why that is?”

Harry shook his head poutily and you just cooed at him as you spat over him, watching your saliva land on his sensitive slit. “Well, puppy, I’m just making sure you never forget to ask before coming again, hm? Third time tonight… and I’ve been warning you. Naughty boys get punished you know…”

“Fuck!” He threw his head back on the pillow as you took him right back in your mouth and down your throat again.

And again.

And again.

You’d reduced him to a whiny, pouty mess in record time. You could tell he’d never had someone else edge him, he’d told you the truth. Not that you suspected any of what he’d told you to be a lie. And not that you really felt he deserved to be punished, he’d fucked you better than anyone else ever had. This was actually his reward. He just didn’t know it yet.

By the time his thighs were shaking and he incessantly pleaded for you to let him come, you scooted lower and played with his balls a bit, not giving any attention to his cock but you knew he was so far gone that he’d probably still finish just from this.

But when you pushed his thighs farther apart and tongued at his perineum he cried out so loud that you took pity on him and decided to end his agony. You took his throbbing cock back into your hand and languidly stroked him. “Ever had your pretty ass played with before, puppy?”

“N-no… never…”

“Not even by yourself? Never been curious to try?”

“I–I have, but… I don’t know…”

“Want me to give you a first too tonight? Just like you did for me? I’d never squirted before either, you know.”

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, Y/N, really?”

“Mhm.” You kept licking at his sack as you talked to him, all the while stroking him but not applying as much pressure as you knew you needed at that point. “What say? Wanna try? You can say no, I won’t be upset or disappointed. And you can stop me anytime if you change your mind.”

“And I can come?”

“Yes, puppy, you can come, but I’ll let you come either way. You’ve been such a good boy, I can’t leave you hanging, not tonight. So? What will it be? It’s your choice.”

“Uhm… ok, we can try…” He was visibly shaking in anticipation, as you tried to gauge whether he was just eager to finish or actually give this a try.

You bent his knees a bit over his chest and gave him a tentative lick even lower down. Harry shuddered in pleasure and began blabbering about how he can’t hold off anymore. You knew he was right on the brink, you were proud of him for holding out for as long as he had. Licking again more vigorously, you knew you had to go easy on him, so all you did was give him a tentative fingertip. But it was enough for him to clamp onto and spasm around uncontrollably as he finally came undone. 

You praised him through his orgasm, telling him how good he was for you, how pretty he looked like that, how brave he’d been to try something new. When he came down you scooted your way up his long torso and he kissed you even more ardently than before if that was even possible. “That was… incredible. I don’t think I ever came that hard in my life.”

“Good. Cause that’s the case for me as well. Wanted to give you something similar, I’m so glad you were open to it. Knew it’d blow your mind.”

“Fuck, that was… holy shit. I can’t believe how intense that was. But even the edging… it was everything I’d fantasized about and more. You’re… fuck, Y/N. You’re incredible. You’re never getting rid of me.”

And for the first time, that notion didn’t scare you. In fact, it made you hopeful. Maybe he really would be your first, after all.

lhh Masterlist

A/N: whew this sure took me a while but writing subrry isn't my expertise as you know! i wanted to get it right! hopefully i did him justice ❤️

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

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[lilystyles]

style.

written by @lilystyles

my masterlist xx & style masterlist

authors note inspired by a dream i had about this boy HAHAHA so filthy but that's just him. (also i'm sorry if ur names emma! if it is it's still cute to be best friends w ur name twin :3) ALSO it's also inspired by style (taylor's version)!

brief description y/n has had a crush on harry since they were kids but he’s off-limits. him being her best friend’s brother and all she has never made a move, knowing emma wouldn’t approve. but lines are blurred one night and she doesn’t know if she can follow the rules like a good girl.

warnings! slight age gap, SMUT (m!receiving, fingering, daddy kink, choking, missionary, doggy) sexual tension, mentions of drugs and alcohol abuse. wordcount: [around 11.4k words, also unedited sorry:(]

fratboy!older!bffsbrother!harry x younger!innocent!reader

* * * * *

Y/n wished she didn’t fancy him. Oh, she wished it so badly.

On every shooting star or eyelash, she had to decide whether she would wish to forget him or for him to finally notice her, it was a constant tug of war between the two.

Honestly, there were so many things going against him. He was completely unavailable to her and she wondered if that’s why she wanted him most. People always say you want what you can’t have. He was older than her by a few years, he was hardly much wiser but liked to act as if he was. 

Or maybe was it just that he was a total prick most of the time, like seriously, so mean? 

She couldn’t pinpoint what exactly attracted her to Harry the most. She knew why others liked him, it was because he was so fucking pretty you just wanted to cry. He was that kind of person. And obviously, she had noticed that slight minor detail. 

She could agree that was one of the many reasons she had a massive crush on him. But she’d known him for years before he was this fuckboy fratboy who wore backward caps with the body of a Greek god and the filthiest mouth you’d ever heard. She knew him before it all. She knew him when he was just her best friend’s goofy older brother, and she’d liked him then too. Before he was smooth and his words had a sting, when he was just this little giggly loud guy.

She thinks to herself often that a piece of her would always belong to him, even if he didn’t know that. She had tried to like other boys, many many times, and though she did like them she didn’t feel even a smidge like how she felt when she saw Harry. The best way for her to describe being with someone who wasn’t Harry was like being in a state of complete darkness, only this dull twinkle of stars without any moon, and then suddenly the sun came up, all these colours painting the sky as it rose. Harry was the sun for her and those boys were just the stars.

Nearly all the time she wished for a distraction from him but that was hard considering he was always around, Y/n saw him every time she went to their house it was like totally unavoidable. They ran into each other at parties even though he was a few years older, it didn’t matter now they that all went to Uni together. She saw him everywhere! Even when she closed her eyes at night.

So tonight when she went out with Emma she was relieved and sad all at once that he wasn’t at the party, it meant she let loose more than she usually did, completely free of the worry of his judgments. She had a few shots but not enough to get her as wasted as Emma was. They danced and sang, and enjoyed themselves. Exams had been stressful and they needed a fun night, they’d spent months cooped up in the library using flashcards and reading the big textbooks. Y/n needed some time away from her laptop screen and desk. She needed to wear a tight dress, get flirted with, have some drinks and relax. She needed to fucking let loose. 

She worked so hard and she was enjoying just forgetting all her worries, Harry included, for a few hours. Sweating and dancing to trashy music was something she had been dreaming of since the start of exam season.

However, the night had taken a slightly sour turn later in the evening when Emma took a few too many tequila shots in a row and spewed down herself, covering her pink dress and shoes and some of Y/n’s shoes too, in sick. She wished she could say this wasn’t a recurring thing but Emma always took it a little too hard on nights out especially when her brooding older brother wasn’t there to help team with Y/n and wrangle her home.

It wasn’t too late probably only midnight, which usually meant they were only just getting started on their drunken shenanigans. But Y/n had to admit she was okay with going home, home being Emma’s place she was roommates with Harry, they were fairly close siblings and their parents felt better knowing they were together. Y/n desperately wanted some water, maybe a snack and to lie down in Emma’s comfortable bed.

As she was trying to find an Uber during the busiest time and hold Emma up from collapsing onto the floor a familiar Irish voice filled Y/n’s ears. She snapped her head around. Oh, thank god.

“Babe! Where are you two off to?” 

Y/n turned, “Niall! Hey, we are going home. Emma isn’t feeling too well.”

Y/n had managed to clean most of the spew off in one of the bathrooms at the Uni share house the party was being thrown at, but Emma was all wet from being wiped down and Y/n knew she needed to get her home like now. She was fading and needed her bed and a bottle of water in her, she wasn’t particularly worried but she would feel better if Harry was with her in case something happened.

“D’ya want a lift? I haven’t drunk anything I’m on my way to Paddy’s place,” He said. He looked very sober.

Paddy was his most recent fling. 

“You are a gem, I could kiss you!” Y/n said squeezing his bicep in thanks.

Y/n was eternally grateful for him being her saviour, she slid Emma into the backseat and clipped her into the seatbelt, brushing the hair from her eyes. Even with sick all over she was still pretty, Y/n envied that the Styles family had such good genes it was ridiculous. They always looked gorgeous, Anne had created three beautiful children.

Niall knew where to go since he was friends with Harry too and Emma and Y/n of course.

Y/n kept checking through the mirror to make sure she was okay and when she saw the familiar home she sighed in relief at the sight. It was this fairly small duplex but their neighbours were nice and the house was one of Harry’s parent’s properties. So they had it pretty good for Uni students. Y/n was living in a big share-house with a bunch of other people. She wished she was this lucky.

She grabbed all their purses, jackets and keys before she kissed Niall on the cheek in thanks. 

“Love you, Babe. Have fun with Paddy!” She winked, knowing Niall really liked this new guy.

Niall blushed a nice rosy colour. “Need any help getting her in?” He asked diverting the conversation.

Y/n shook her head and the two girls stumbled to the front door. Emma was slightly more awake now, her arms slinging around Y/n’s shoulders making the straps of her dress fall as Y/n hunted for the keys in Emma’s little clutch. Y/n had a key to their house for emergencies and she knew where they hid a spare, but she wasn’t going to hunt around in the dark for it.

The door opened before she found them in the clutch which had ten lipsticks that she was rummaging through.

His eyes were so green she felt like they were glowing in the dark. He didn’t say anything he just grabbed Emma and helped her inside. Whispering something to her kindly as Y/n made her way inside behind them. She toed her shoes off before she entered, not wanting to bring Emma’s sick in any more than it already would be. 

Y/n sighed shutting the door behind her as she placed all their things in Emma’s room down the hall. Harry had put her on the bed and was taking her heels off for her. He was a good brother. He was protective over both his sisters even though Gemma was the oldest.

“She always goes to fucking far,” He muttered more to himself than Y/n. Who was finding Emma’s sleep clothes in her bedside drawers, knowing she couldn’t sleep in the sick-covered ones. 

He didn’t sound annoyed at her or angry, just worried. He was a prick sure, but he cared about his family and friends. His small circle is what mattered most to him. Y/n knew his gruff and broody presence was the exterior of a very gentle soul. When he was at home drinking tea in pyjamas that was the real Harry, not some douchebag.

But she knew that he had a reputation for being a heartbreaker and a lot of people would warn you of him. But Y/n didn’t think that was the real him.

Y/n nodded in agreement, tiredly pushing the hair from her eyes she wanted to tie it up it was sweaty from dancing. 

“It’s okay, Niall helped me,” Y/n spoke softly as he stood up from the floor where he’d sat to take her shoes off. He was so much taller than Y/n, his face finally looking at hers now. She felt heat prickle up her back, and the hairs stand on her neck. 

He had such an intense stare.

“I knew I should’ve come,” He said. “I worry when you two are alone.”

Two? She thought. He’d never really shown much protectiveness on his end over her, except when guys were being gross at bars or parties. Then he would give them a stern look and tell them to fuck off. But he did that for anyone, Y/n knew that she wasn’t special. She always felt like Emma was his priority always and he didn’t care what she did as long as Y/n got Emma home safe.

It was almost like he could hear her thoughts. “I don’t like when either of you go without me. The stories Emma has told me about what they say to you Y/n, makes me feel sick honestly.”

She despised the way her stomach flipped. She was about to say that she managed okay without him. But his hand slid onto her shoulder pulling the little spaghetti strap back up over her shoulder. 

She felt breathless but tried to snap back into her usual self. Feeling more pink than usual, Harry always seemed to have that effect on her.

“I- do your frat friends know how much of a softie you are deep down? Be careful now, Styles, I might go around telling them how nice you secretly are. Ruin that scary reputation of yours.”

He smirked in amusement, Y/n had this ability to melt away that hard shell, stripping him bare to his true self. He hated and loved it all at once, he felt like she saw right through him. Even when people said mean things about him, Y/n never wavered and sometimes even defended him. The only thing she didn’t approve of was his restlessness towards women. He felt one was never enough, and was quite open about that with his hookups. Maybe he just didn’t have the right one.

He left after that so Y/n could get Emma ready for bed. He was pottering about in the kitchen and making tea, she assumed. That was his late-night ritual usually.

Y/n shook Emma awake enough so she could help Y/n a little to get her into some pyjamas. She even got her make-up wipes out and removed all the makeup on Emma’s face and tucked her into bed.

Y/n sighed tiredly at the effort of it all and felt sobered up almost completely now. Emma had the downstairs bathroom to herself usually, it was very clean in there. Y/n decided to take a shower and wash the sick smell off her skin and the sweat from the clubs and the dirty Uni sharehouse. 

She washed her hair, face and body. Emma had a lot of really sweet expensive-smelling products, but Y/n had her own little section for when she stayed over. It was all coconut-scented. She felt herself begin to droop in fatigue when she finished cleaning herself. She got the last of the makeup the water hadn’t washed off and changed into a random shirt from Emma’s drawer and some fresh knickers from Y/n’s things she’d left here.

Y/n was here more than she was at her own house. Emma always said she’d kick Harry out and let Y/n take his place, but Y/n knew the siblings actually got on rather well. When Y/n was dressed for sleep she blow-dried her hair on the lowest setting so she wouldn’t wake Emma up, but Emma could probably sleep through an earthquake she was a really deep sleeper. Then she plugged both their phones in and slid in beside Emma tiredly. She shut her eyes and turned off the fairy lights Emma had kept on, ready to lull off.

Y/n had been friends with Emma since they were little they’d all grown up together in Holmes Chapel and it was the kind of place you were just friends with everyone because it was so small but Y/n had always been closest with the Styles family. They lived down the street from each other and Emma and Y/n were never seen without each other. So Harry was used to having Y/n around a lot too. 

Growing up he had to make sure nothing happened to them, he was in charge but it was usually Emma giving him trouble Y/n was always a sweetheart, but she had a quick mouth with one-liners that almost knocked him over. He liked that about her, she was sweet but could challenge him feistily without much thought. He’d met his match when it came to arguments.

Often when the parents went away Y/n would be over and Gemma and Harry would have to make sure neither of them got up to anything wild. But it was usually just a sleepover that consisted of them laughing until dawn. Harry was a much lighter sleeper so he would always tell them to shut up. 

Harry woke up to the sound of a pin dropping rooms away, he didn’t know how his sister could snore like a freight train and sleep through herself. He also didn’t know how Y/n could share a bed with her. Sometimes he’d get up in the middle of the night for a wee or some water and would find Y/n on the couch with a pillow over her face trying to block out the noise of Emma’s snoring. 

So when he heard Y/n roaming about in the kitchen (he knew it was her because he could still hear Emma snoring) he pretended to need some water, wanting to see her. It was probably around 3 AM but he had been unable to sleep. And they hadn’t talked much when she got home. He had wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, but he knew better. She had worn a dress that hugged all her features, it was black and simple. Hair done naturally, and makeup that was subtle but just made her that tiny bit more pretty. She always looked pretty though.

He came down the stairs from his room and walked into the kitchen. Y/n was using the fridge as a light to find things. She was making tea by the looks of things. She found some of the chamomile that she used every night, in turn, Harry added it to the weekly grocery list in case she slept the night there, and hadn’t heard him creep downstairs. 

She was in a big baggy dusty blue shirt that Harry actually thought was one Emma had stolen from him, and a pair of soft pink cotton knickers that were very small. Socks covered her feet making her practically silent. He stepped closer into the kitchen waiting for her to turn around and notice him. 

She was trying to be very quiet in every step, knowing Harry was a very light sleeper, and not wanting to wake him. When she finally did look over her shoulder her body jolted in fright dropping the box of teabags onto the floor and a hand falling to her chest. 

“Jesus, H.” She whispered, raspily. 

He let out a breathy laugh. “Sorry, Lovie.”

She squinted in the dark trying to see him. His hair looked messy like he’d been sleeping and he was just in some boxers as PJs. He ran hot in the night.

“Did I wake you?” She asked a guilty look crossing her face. Her eyes softened as she nibbled on her bottom lip.

He shook his head. “Nah. ‘Aven’t been sleeping well.”

She frowned, not liking the sound of that. She didn’t know why she cared, but she did. “Do you want a tea?”

He smiled, dimples showing. “Yes please.”

She brewed two as he whispered the truth about why he didn’t come out with them tonight. He was originally supposed to, and honestly, she had been slightly disappointed about it. Knowing she’d have to handle Emma alone.

But he told her why, in a soft hushed voice. A few guys in his friendship group had said some really mean things to Harry. Not realising he would feel them so deeply, she thought, they must think he was as mean as he seems. He told the story like he wasn’t phased by the mean comments, but Y/n could tell they had gotten to him. She knew better than his cold stone face.

“Alex said ‘I was a homewrecking prick and womanizer’.” He explained when Y/n asked what the boys had said about him. He heard a hint of protectiveness in her voice when she asked with a pinched face, and he felt a tug in his lower tummy. Why did she care?

Y/n looked up from the mugs at him. The dim lighting of the fridge meant she could only see the outline of his body and the shadows of his features. She saw a glimpse of his eyes, and she could see the look in his eyes. He believed them, he believed those comments. They were glassy with discontentment.

Her eyebrows were pinched in empathy, and she was about to speak but he cut her off. “I know I’m a total prick sometimes, but—”

She interrupted him, “—You are a prick sometimes, but people who really know you know what you're like.” She tried to reason with him. Because she wasn’t going to deny sometimes he would be just plain rude to her, and to others as well. But she also knew he did a lot of nice things too. He had a hard exterior and shied off people easily, if you didn’t know him well he would seem rude. But all his close friends and family knew that he was just standoffish with new people. And loved to tease, and was brutally honest, which Y/n had to admit sometimes that hurt more than the teasing comments. 

But he did nice things. Wonderful things, that he went out of his way to do. Like helped his sister when she was drunk, drove people home so they wouldn’t have to walk in the dark after parties, picked Y/n up from the library at midnight if she was too scared to walk home, bought chamomile tea in case Y/n spent the night, made enough dinner in case Y/n was hungry, visited the girls when they were studying with snacks and coffee, and he even helped sometimes if they were confused on work. He called his Mum every day without fail and sent his Grandma photos of birds when he saw them. 

He baked a new type of cookie recipe every Sunday and gave it to his friends. He adopted stray cats and played Scrabble with his grandparents every few weekends.

Yes, he was a prick, he said mean things and made fun of Y/n when she went on dates with idiots, and he called her names, filthy ones. And sometimes he would barely acknowledge her. But she knew there was a different reason for that, something she didn’t understand. Something between just the two of them. She thought maybe it was just a way for him to protect his sensitive side from people. From her too, hide himself away.

And yes, he did have sex with lots of people, but he did always tell people the truth before getting involved with anyone. He was honest, and open when it came to his boundaries. Y/n thought that was better than lying and acting like you wanted a relationship just so you can fuck someone. She wasn’t saying she approved of Harry’s constant line of girls coming over, maybe that was her jealousy talking, but she wasn’t going to judge him for doing what lots of people did and owning that he did it. He would never kiss and tell, he was respectful and clear with his intentions. What more could you ask of a fuck buddy or one-night stand? If you wanted a good shag no strings attached Harry was your guy, and surely most people knew from the rumours? She just didn’t understand why people put themself in that position if they knew what they were getting into with him.

He wasn’t a devious person who hid behind a mask of fake sincerity to get in your pants. He was blunt, he asked if you wanted to fuck and if you didn’t that was fine. He wasn’t picky with it either he just liked to have a good time.

She felt differently about being with a person. She usually only wanted to be with someone she had an emotional connection with. But she had a smaller level of experience than Harry, so she thought that maybe she was coming from the point of view of a less experienced person. But the point remained, Harry had his flaws, like anyone but he was good at his core. His intentions remained good. No one is perfect, and she knew Harry was far from it but so was everyone she knew!

She knew her flaws too. Flaws made people human. And she appreciated him despite it all.

“And what is that?” He was standing closer now and she felt suddenly very aware of the fact she was only in knickers and a shirt her nipples could be seen through. The way he was staring her down made her aware of her appearance, he looked almost hungry.

“Well as someone who’s known you for as long as I can remember. You’re kind, honest, open, and a good person with a rotten mouth.” She looked away from him as she spoke, flushed by his close presence. She tried not to stumble on her words but was struggling and honestly felt her hands tremble when she felt his breath hit her neck.

“Kind?” He scoffed eyes trained on her face, it was free of makeup. Her lips looked pouty and her eyes droopy in tiredness. She looked perfect. She always did. Even that one week during the bleak middle of winter when she had been sick as a dog; red nose, glassy eyes, snotty and nasally, hair unwashed, skin red, she’d looked beautiful.

“Harry,” She said his name meaning she was serious, she usually called him anything but, “these fucking friends of yours clearly don’t see you like we do.”

“We?”

She leaned back against the drawers sighing, “We. Me, Emma, Niall, Gem, Anne. People who know you, people who love you.”

“You love me?” He teased. 

She rolled her eyes. Of course, that’s what he got from that. He was so annoying.  

“You’re alright.” She replied, they both knew she did, handing him the tea. He said a quiet thanks.

He placed it back down, where Y/n was letting hers cool. The face she had made smile only seconds prior melted back to a stoic look, more serious.

He hugged her and Y/n was surprised, but she wrapped her arms around him. He pulled back when he started to get intoxicated on her sweet scent, her skin smelt edible and her hair was soft against his cheek.

“I’m sorry if I’m a prick to you.”

Y/n didn’t mean to but she laughed. A giggle bubbled from her tummy out of her mouth her as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“What?” He said, fighting back the smile that threatened to tug on his lips. It was contagious. He was trying to keep his attention very far from her chest.

She didn’t know what made her say it but, but she told him the truth. “I like it. It's like a game we have. A Harry and Y/n one. I tease you, you tease me. You act like I don’t exist most of the time and I act like I don’t care. You’re mean to me and I let you be.”

Hearing her say it out loud was kind of like being winded. It had always been their game, a game neither mentioned, some sort of unspoken thing they shared. 

She could tell he was kind of speechless. 

“I don’t know why I let you.” Now that was a lie. She was trying to backtrack. 

“I do.” He said stepping closer. His bare legs were pressing into hers. She didn’t say anything, waiting for him to tell her. But he didn’t.

“You gonna tell me?” She said quietly, eyes widely looking up into his, as his hands rested on either side of her on the bench. He leaned in closely. So they were eye to eye.

She was trapped in his arms and had nowhere to look but at him, she squirmed under his smouldering eyes.

“You know why too.”

She didn’t speak. What did any of this mean? She had waited a long time to hear him apologise for being a dick to her, and he just did and she’d told him that she liked him treating her that way. What she meant was, that she liked him, she let him treat her that way because for Harry she would do anything. She didn’t care if that made her pathetic, at least she knew it was, at least she could admit it. I mean, wouldn’t you let him treat you like shit under his shoe if it meant he was at least looking at you with those gorgeous eyes? Could hardly blame the girl.

“Why did you have to meet Emma before you met me?” He almost whined with a soft scoff. As if complaining at fate’s hands for dealing them these cards.

She felt her heart rate speed up. 

“What do you mean?” She asked, playing dumb. He was talking so much and she was practically drunk on his sultry voice. It was so deep and she just wanted to hold onto the sound forever and feel it melt into her spine like it was now, and listen when she wanted to sink into a state of lust.

He lifted one of his arms and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “Then she’d be the one who has to follow my rules, and stay away from you. I could be the one in control. Have you all to myself. No sharing.”

Y/n licked her drying lips, as she processed his words. He wanted her all to himself? “Wait, wait, she has a rule to stay away from me?”

Y/n knew Emma didn’t like it when her friends slept with Harry, it was just weird and they would always complain about how mean he was after, or even try and talk about how good he was in bed. She just didn’t like her friends dating or having anything to do with Harry period. But she assumed it was different for Y/n since she knew Harry pretty well and would consider him someone in her close circle. Even if he did ignore her a lot. She assumed she was fine with Harry and Y/n at least being friends. Y/n had bottled all her feelings away for years, she didn’t think that would ever change. Even if Harry liked her back, she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise their friendship.

“You’re her friend, not mine.” He said, mocking Emma’s tone, making his voice all squeaky and high-pitched.

Y/n frowned. Emma had always been weird about this. She could understand to some extent, but sometimes Y/n wished she could just have a normal conversation with Harry. “Why can’t we be friends? I’ve known you my whole life, and haven’t slept with you. I think I should be allowed to have a conversation with you. I think I can handle that without pulling my pants down.”

Harry’s lips kicked up in a smirk, “You aren’t wearin’ any pants.”

“Oh shut up.” She replied cheeks bleeding pink.

“She trusts you.” Harry said trying to make Y/n feel better, “She just doesn’t trust me.”

Y/n smiled at that, trying to lighten the mood once again. “Who would? I mean this with respect, but you are a bit of a slut.” Her hand came up to play with the cross on his neck.

He giggled, “I simply enjoy myself openly. You should try, Y/n, it’s fun bein’ bad.”

She felt her cheeks warm further, “I can be bad,” Y/n argued but it was no use.

“Oh thas’ such a lie, Baby.” He laughed at her statement rolling his eyes, and Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at the nickname. He’d never called her that before and it brought a rose colour to her cheeks that Harry adored on her. She was so easy to make nervous. But he didn’t think anyone was as good at it as he was.

“It’s not,” She pouted. 

He cocked his head in challenge. “Name one naughty thing you’ve done then. Bet y’cant.”

She tried to think, that growing up she was relatively good and even now she hardly participated in much other than seeing Emma or Niall and studying. But she felt this urge to impress him, make him proud almost. Or at least shock him.

“I stole a lolly once.”

Harry found a smile slipping onto his face, he’d always seen Y/n as a fairly innocent person. And she was, for the most part. Soft and sweet in real life, like a bunny or puppy. So soft, and you just want to pick her up and put her in your arms and tell her how cute she is. But she had some mischievousness to her, like all people. Something buried underneath her innocent aura, Harry thought of that side of her often pondering what she was like when she wasn’t hiding and she’d been cracked open raw and teased beyond return.

“Oh yeah? Anything else?”

She tried to think of what would shock him but she fell flat. Until—but no she couldn’t say that, it way was too personal. 

“I can see you thinking very hard, c’mon tell me.” He whispered. Y/n shut her eyes. His voice sent shivers down her spine.

Fuck it. It was like she had no control over her mouth, the filth just slipped right out of her pouty lips. She wanted to blame the alcohol, but it was probably just his voice that had her feeling intoxicated.

“Sometimes when I touch myself I think of you.”

Harry practically froze, his lips opening to show he was indeed very surprised to hear that. There was a beat and Y/n didn’t know if she regretted it or not. She was about to tell him it was a joke and run for her life. Change her name, and move to Mexico. Her Duolingo lessons weren’t going to be enough to get by, she’d have to start really learning how to speak properly now.

Until. 

“What do you think about, Y/n?”

She felt herself getting hot, she’d really fucked herself here. He would never let this go. Call it the tequila but Y/n wasn’t lying. Truthfully the only thing that got her off was Harry, she couldn’t cum unless his green eyes flashed in her vision. Which she did feel bad about like she was a pervert. But believe that she’d tried to think of others, or watching porn. But she could only ever think of him. Otherwise, it wasn’t as good, and she didn’t get the release she was chasing.

“A lot of filthy things, H.”

He bit his lip, “Like what?”

He could sense her getting shy once more as she crossed her arms and looked at her feet, cheeks all pink and pinchable. “Don’t get all shy on me now, Baby, whatever you’ve touched your lil’ clit too I’ve probably stroked m’cock too.”

Y/n was surprised, head snapping up at his words, and though he was normally very honest even he seemed a bit more nervous to admit it. He was just as bad as her. And he had such a filthy mouth, but that was not a surprise to her. She was just surprised he thought of her, she never saw herself as particularly desirable. She always imagined Harry to like those people who look good running in slow motion.

It took a lot of courage as she began to speak. “I usually think about you…fucking my throat, using my mouth however you like. I like the idea of those hands pulling on m’hair.”

Harry felt his pants twitch. His expression and dark eyes egged her on to continue. He didn’t know she was such a little minx. He’d always imagine her to like soft, gentle caresses. Which wouldn’t have bothered him, though he was fairly kinky, but he would’ve done whatever she liked.

She didn’t know if he would like this but she felt brave, “Like the idea of calling you Daddy….Want to be good f’you, Daddy.”

That’s what made Harry unable to keep his hands by his sides. He grabbed her face forcing her to look into his eyes. 

“Wanna be good?”

She nodded coyly, eyes wide. His hands were warm and she practically melted into them.

“Sleep upstairs tonight then.” He didn’t ask her, he simply instructed her. And who was she to say no? 

She nodded once again and he patted her lower back as if to say off you go then. She listened and walked slowly in front of him. She felt his presence close by, the sweet citrus and woodsy scent that followed him was right by her nose and she could hear his slow calm breaths.

Her beating heart was thumping against her chest and she wondered how it didn’t fill the quiet house (besides Emma’s window-rattling snores).

He noticed her shaky and anxious energy and his hand slipped onto her waist. “I jus’ wanna hear about y’dreams somewhere comfier, Petal, if thas’ all yeh’ want that’s all we’ll do. Plus I’m saving y’from m’lumpy couch.”

She couldn’t complain about that. 

As they walked inside she was welcomed to the scent of Harry, she’d only been in Harry’s room a few times, but never properly. He ushered her to the bed and she sat down tucking her knees to her chest and resting her chin. Examining the walls of famous singers and art that covered it. In the corner by his desk where the only source of light in his room was a glowing lamp, other than some fairy lights above his bed, was a little picture wall.

In the mess of polaroids and film, she saw one of Y/n, Emma and Harry when the two girls had graduated school. He was between them arms around their shoulders and looking to his left at Y/n who was laughing happily with Emma at Gemma who made some joke about something. Y/n knew the picture instantly because it was one of her favourites of him.

“What else, Baby?” He said softly sitting in front of her, interrupting her thoughts of that day when he’d driven home to visit them for it, and looked over to see him leaning against the headboard, arms interlocked behind his head. 

“You go.” She said, which made Harry laugh.

“I’m pretty filthy Honey, you know me. I don’t know if it’ll be something you like.”

She looked at him stubbornly. “Try me.”

He shut his eyes and only now did she see he was nervous too, “I often find myself thinking about you on your tummy, underneath me, letting me stuff you full while my hands pin yours to your back so that you’re at my mercy.”

She liked that, her tummy twisted in yerning. “I’d like you to be in charge. Help me forget.”

He was looking at her like she was the sweetest most edible thing. “Can I kiss you?”

She nodded and he placed his hands in her hair, kissing her softly at first just a whisper of a touch of two mouths moulding into one. She leaned in further into the warmth of him and hugged her arms around his broad shoulders as the kiss began to deepen, he tasted like a hint of beer and minty toothpaste. Her chest burned with what only could be described as Harry. 

He moaned into her mouth softly, sighing at the taste of her sweet tea-soaked lips. The warmth of her curves pressing into him was comforting, and though he had a desire to completely ruin her until she was crying his name, he liked taking it slow and enjoying this first kiss with her. Exploring her mouth, teasing his tongue against hers, and soft hands roaming up and down her back. 

He rubbed her back under the soft shirt, no bra strap blocking his gentle scratches. She arched into his touch.

After all, he’d been dreaming of it for years and he wanted to take his time, even though he was crazy for her and felt this deep animalistic desire, he was gentle with her. Like she could break if he was too rough.

The kiss began to pick up as she slid into his lap, and he encouraged her to rub against his bare thigh. She ground against his tiger tattoo and he could feel the wetness between her thighs leaking onto him already. She moved slowly and uncertainly, his hands moved from her shoulders down to her hips forcefully moving her against him creating friction that made her create a soft whiney noise in the back of her throat. He swallowed the sounds eagerly.

He pulled his lips away breathlessly and dragged his mouth down the column of her throat, kissing sucking and biting wherever he could. Her skin was soft and she smelt like coconuts and something that was just her. He would’ve eaten her whole if he could. She let out soft breaths and sighs, her hips had stopped moving — too distracted by his magical lips. 

He stopped to look at her. Really looking.

Her lips were more red, almost like she’d been nibbling on them, and they were all swollen from his kissing. Her cheeks were dusted in a warm pink. Eyes wild and doe-eyed looking up at him. She was picturesque. He wanted to remember her like this forever and be able to come back to this moment at any time. He soaked it in, hoping to remember.

“You seriously are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.” He said softly running his big hands through her messy hair. His rings were cool on her skin.

“Harry, don’t.” She said bringing her hands to cover her blushing face.

He sighed. “I’m sorry for not telling you every second of every day.”

“Don’t lie, H. I’ve seen the girls you fancy.”

“Only ever fancied you.” He said his hands grabbing hers and moving them away she looked at him, shocked. “Only ever look for your face in a crowd, Baby.”

She didn’t know what to say so she kissed him and he moaned softly when she rubbed herself against him. He was getting harder and harder with each movement until eventually she stopped and moved away. 

“Can I suck you off?” She asked, and the filth was shocking to hear from her soft voice and lips.

He nodded hand stroking her cheek. “Yeah, ‘course.”

She moved down to her tummy between his thighs and looked up at him. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.” She whispered. 

He laughed softly, there she was, there was his Y/n. “Thas’ okay, Love, I’ll teach you.”

She slid her hand up his thigh and her fingers found their way into the waistband of his boxers and began to tug them down when he gave her a nod of approval. His stiff dick sprung out against his tummy, and he was completely naked for her. The head of his cock was oozing precum and it dripped down to his balls. Even his dick was pretty. Which she should’ve expected.

It had a blush-coloured tip similar to the shade of his lips, he was veiny and long. So long that he reached his belly button. He was girthy too and as she moved her hand to wrap around it, he hissed at the contact, and she almost dropped her jaw at the fact her fingers weren’t touching. He smirked down at her.

Her reaction was boosting his ego in just the right way.

“You alright down there, Petal?”

She nodded, her lips grazing against his now throbbing cock. He ached for her. The sight of the swell of her ass and plush thighs was making him very needy. 

And to the surprise of them both she pursed her lips and spat down onto his dick. She was basically drooling all over him, it leaked down over the length of him coating his prick and he practically whimpered at the sight — it was one of his dreams. She then took him into her mouth and began to suck and lick, slowly taking him deeper and deeper. 

His hands had slipped into her hair holding it back from her face and he was letting out loud gravelly moans and sighs of pleasure. He was trying to stop his hips from rolling up into her throat. Her mouth was so deliciously warm and tight against him, he felt like a man deprived of water near a watering hole. Her tongue glided around swirling and sucking and teasing the tip of him. When she began to fondle his balls as well, gently massaging them, he let out a particularly loud whiney noise. She popped out off of him. 

“Shh, don’t wanna wake Emma up.” She said before dripping another trickle of spit onto him and continuing her fast and merciless pace on him. 

“Can’t help it, when you take me like that. S’fucking good.” He said, as his hips jutted into her throat roughly, without realising. “Shit, fuck, sorry,” He said hearing her throat gag on him.

She just went deeper onto him, until her nose was tickled by the snail trail on his tummy. Pulling back when all her breath had gone. She hardly needed to be taught.

She took deep breaths of air and stroked him slowly in her hand, he was panting at her touch. 

“You can use my throat however y’like, Daddy.” She said, voice all raw from his cock having stuffed it just seconds ago, before going back down onto him.

“Just tap m’leg if you need me to stop,” He said and she nodded making a noise around him. His hands pulled her hair up away from her eyes. “sucha’ good fuckin’ girl.” He said pushing her head down once more. Again and again, until he was close to cumming. Which had happened fast, and he didn’t have it in him to be embarrassed.

His balls ached for release and her teasing little hands that twisted and stroked him, along with her tongue, had him so loud he’d taken to biting his lip in an attempt to keep his sounds from slipping out. He pulled her off him stroking her cheek gently, swiping some tears away. Her eyes had begun to leak with tears from how deep she was taking him, and it made him throb.

“Gonna’ cum soon, Baby.”

She nodded. “Let me have it please, want your cum. Want it all.”

He stuffed her mouth once more at her words, rutting into her throat until she was gagging and coughing around him. His eyes squeezed shut, “Oh fuck, cummin’,” he hissed. Opening his eyes to watch the sight below him.

Her eyes looked up at him, and that’s what sent him over the edge. With one last thrust, he was cumming, hard, so hard his eyes saw white spots and he shuddered into her. She pulled back coughing, she’d swallowed as much as she could but some of it made its way out and dribbled down her chin. She swiped the rest with her thumb and licked it up.

She was just perfect.

He pulled her up by her chin and kissed her. 

“That was the best blowjob I’ve ever had.” He kissed her again before asking her, “Let Daddy take care of ya’ now, is that what y’want sweet girl?”

She nodded. “Yes please.”

“Good girl. So polite.” He said kissing her forehead. His hand slipped into her underwear circling her clit, which was slick with arousal. “So wet for me.”

She sighed leaning closer to his shoulder, pressing her forehead into him to cover her whines. He started to circle her clit faster, and her hips squirmed against his hand he then started teasing her weeping hole. She moaned deliciously into his neck. Felt so good.

“Come rest against me, my love.” She shifted her body at his command and turned to face away from him. Pushing her back into his chest, her bum tucked right against his stiffy. His legs spread open for her to sit in front of him and he grabbed the waistband of her undies pushing her undies down and she threw them to the side with her ankle. She leaned into his shoulder head tipped back and he watched from over her shoulder. Just like the rest of her, her pussy was beautiful. It was glistening in slick and begging for his attention. Beautiful and spread for him like a flower, her swollen bud was puffy and eager to be sucked, licked, and teased.

His hand slipped past her tummy and began to rub her softly coating his finger in her slick, preparing her for him to slip his fingers in. She sighed breathlessly. 

“Please, Daddy.” She whispered which made his cock twitch from behind her, she felt against her back.

He slowly slipped one in and her mouth opened but no sound came out until he was all the way inside, knuckle deep, which made her let out a broken cry. “Oh fuck, Harry.”

He began to thrust and curl his finger, moving faster and faster. Her tight pussy clamped down onto him, pulsing every few seconds, as she cried out softly into the room. Her cheeks bloomed with warmth and her body squirmed in pleasure as his other hand kept her legs spread for him. His thumb drew lazy circles on her puffy clit which had her pussy leaking even more onto his finger.

“Like when Daddy takes you like this?”

She nodded. “Mm.”

“Say it, Baby, tell me you like it.”

“I lov-love it when you take me like this.” Her voice was so soft and airy.

He began kissing her neck and shoulder, sucking a mark near her ear. She was too distracted to care about it leaving a mark tomorrow. “My pretty Baby, likes when I tease her little pussy?”

She made a whiney noise and her legs twitched almost shutting.

“So sensitive f’me.”

He slipped another finger inside her and she dripped out even more onto him, crying out softly into the hand she’d brought to her mouth, her slick trickled down her thighs too now and he didn’t slow his movements only went harder and faster into her. Loving the way she melted into his touch.

“Gunna’ cum for Daddy?”

She nodded biting her lip. “‘Feels so good. I’m goin’ ta’ cum soon, Daddy.”

He kept going kissing her skin and massaging her thighs and breasts and eventually her legs shook hard, and shut on his hand and she cried out and pulsed rapidly around his fingers, and he could only imagine how good he’d feel with her cumming on his cock like that. She looked so beautiful he felt like he might cum then and there on her back without having even touched himself. As the peak of her orgasm washed over her he slid his fingers out of her and brought them to her lips, giving her just the middle finger.

“Suck,” He told her.

She obeyed sucking dazedly still trying to calm down from her orgasm, when he pulled it out he brought the other one to his lips.

“Mm.” He said softly, she tasted tangy and sweet. 

She took some deep breaths as he held her close. “Thank you.” She whispered softly, shutting her eyes and catching her breath, she can’t remember the last time she came like that. So hard that she felt it in her entire body, so hard she saw stars and couldn’t contain her noises.

“Sucha’ good girl, you’re welcome my sweet girl.” She turned her head to the side and kissed him, very softly and slowly. Nothing feverish and rushed like their previous actions and his hands massaged her bare hips, kneading her plush flesh contently. God, she was just so soft, so warm, so wet, and so perfect. It was like he’d dreamt but better, if that was even possible. He was drunk on her touch.

When she pulled away she looked up at him. “I want your cock, please, I need it.” Her little pleads made his balls ache, and he wouldn’t have to be asked twice by her.

“Okay, Baby.” He said running a hand through his hair. She lifted her shirt over her head and threw it aside, completely bare, so perfect to him. Her nipples harden at the cool air, and her skin pimpled. Her body was perfect, every scar, mole, mark, and spot he’d have happily kissed and run his over for hours if she’d allow it.

He grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed and placed it down in the middle of the bed right in front of her. “Why don’t you lie on your tummy f’me, Petal? Rest on the pillow.”

She nodded and put her hips in line with the pillow, her bum sticking in the air ready for him. His hands rubbed her softly, her skin was so smooth under his hands and he wanted to sink his teeth into her plush flesh. She was so fucking perfect, and the way their bodies knew exactly what to do to the other was just magic like they were made for one another. Just like a pair of contrasting colours splashed on a canvas together, it just worked.

“One sec,” He said leaning over to his bedside table pulling out a condom and ripping it open. He slid it over his leaking prick that was already standing tall at the sound of Y/n’s soft moans and perfect, wet, pussy that was waiting to be stuffed full of him. 

Before he slid himself inside her she turned to look over her shoulder. “I ‘aven’t in a while. Be gentle please, Harry.”

He kissed her forehead, “‘Course, Gorgeous.”

He held her hand in his reassuringly as he slowly dipped the tip inside of her, feeling her begin to stretch for him. She was tight, from nerves and the fact he was just so fucking large. She wasn’t nervous because of anything being wrong, she just wanted Harry to like her. She didn’t know how, but he had this incredible talent of making her nervous always. He was just so much more experienced, older, and had much more sex than her. She just worried she wouldn’t be up to his standards.

But when he began to coo her gently and rubbed her back and bum with his hands to relax her, she began to feel less nervous. Harry, though a prick with a filthy mouth and a bit of an attitude problem, would never want anything bad to happen to her and liked her for who she was, as she was. They’d been around each other for years after all, and with that sort of time, you just understand each other. He was a mean prick who had sex with just about anyone and she was a naive good girl who strayed from any attention. But they could still appreciate their differences. She was pleasantly surprised at how well their bodies understood each other too. His cock was the perfect fit for her, and she melted into the pain.

Her thoughts of nervousness were lost when he had stuffed her completely full of him, she could feel the tip of him teasing that spot inside her that she could only ever reach with toys, she let out a whimper. “Fuck, Harry.”

It was millions of times better than anything she’d ever experienced.

He hissed throwing his head back, feeling her stretch around him. “So tight, Love.”

He began to move, keeping true to his word, slow and gentle thrusts. Remaining as shallow with his movements as someone could with a cock that big.

Y/n’s eyes watered in a mix of pain and pleasure. Her hand flew back again to grab his wrist. “S’big, Daddy.”

He moaned at the name, it was just so fucking cute coming from her. He wanted to take care of her when she acted all needy like that, “Yeah? Feels big inside your little pussy, doesn’t it?”

God, he was filthy, he made her stomach curl with desire. She never thought she’d like dirty talk all that much, before this she’d felt it was corny coming from boys but coming from his lips it was the closest thing to heaven she’d ever heard.

She nodded into the bed and took her hand back to grip the sheets but he grabbed her hands and held them behind her back. He used them as leverage to push her back onto him, pinning her hands back, just like he said.

“Feeling alright, Baby?” He asked. 

And she nodded once more. 

“Tell me.” He told her.

“Feels fuckin’ amazing.” She said struggling to find the words, her orgasm had made her foggy and his cock bottoming out made it difficult to think of anything else.

“Feel so good on m’cock, fucking made to take it, Y/n.”

That made her shiver, the pain had started to subside turning into just pleasure now. “Can go faster, H.” She said just above a whisper. 

As he began to go faster and deeper like he’d been desperate to, she got louder and louder, and her pussy made these filthy noises against his cock. He was ruining her completely and she was enjoying every moment. Her eyes turned glossy in pleasure.

He let go of her hands to grab her hips and push her back harder, she began to move her hips to meet his, and he cried out. 

“Fuck,” He swore, tossing his head back stray curlings falling over his eyes when he looked back down at her.

He squeezed the flesh of her ass and moved his hand forward onto her hair gently tugging it backward, as he began to pound into her even harder. 

“Such a pretty little thing, letting me ruin you, what a good girl.” He said his voice all rough and coarse.

She keened clawing at the bed, “Feels so fucking good, Daddy, I love it thank you.”

Even in bed, she was so polite and obedient, that he wondered what she would be like after being edged for a while. Would her obedience turn to brattiness? He would have to try another time. Made him speed up even more at the thought.

“Wanna see tha’ pretty face while y’taking m’cock,” He said deciding to turn her onto her back he got rid of the pillow, flipping her to face him. Her cheeks were flushed rosy pink, her hair a mess from his pulling, and her eyes were practically black her pupils had gotten so big. She was perfect, his perfect good girl, and so beautiful he could’ve cum just looking at her.

He leaned down kissing her lips, as he continued his thrusts. He dragged his lips down along her jaw and down until he had one of her breasts in his mouth. Her nipples were sensitive to his tongue and her hands moved from his hair to his shoulders, scratching along the peaks of his back. She felt so close, she couldn’t control any part of herself.

He moved his attention across to the other nipple, massaging the one that had just been marked with his mouth. She was moaning breathily, back arching up into him. She was so sensitive to his touch, so much so that every brush of skin that he dared to touch felt like it was on fire. 

“I’m getting close, Daddy.” She said and he began going even deeper, he could tell by the way her pussy was clamping down onto his prick harder and harder and more often that she was on the brink. It made his stomach turn.

“Atta girl, cum on Daddy’s cock.” Her legs were shaking and she screwed her eyes shut at his words. 

“Don’t stop, please.” She said, clawing his back. 

He didn’t dare change anything he was doing, he stayed hitting that spot deep inside her that made her scream out and claw him extra tightly. She pulled him closer so his mouth was hovering over hers, her legs wrapped around his back and she clawed his arms desperate for her release. She felt her stomach unravelling in the familiar feeling of her orgasm. 

“Gonna- fuck, gonna cum!” 

He felt her pulse rapidly on his cock and whined into her lips at the feeling. She made guttural moaning noise, all loud and high, as her legs squirmed and she shook around him. He helped her through her orgasm, stroking her cheek with his hands pecking her lips until she came down from it.

It was even more intense than her first and his cock greedily continued pounding her hardly giving her a chance to rest. He moved her leg up a bit higher against his hip and began to hit that spot even harder than before. 

She whined hands reaching up to his hair, tugging it, and he moaned. He loved it when she did that

“Can you handle another, sweet girl?” He asked he had no shame in wanting to watch her cum once more. It was too beautiful of a sight you couldn’t blame him, he was greedy for more.

And she nodded tiredly. “Think so. Might have to make me take it though, Daddy.”

Her voice drove him up the wall. “Fuck, so fucking perfect f’me. Love this pussy.” He moved his hand down to rub her clit, he wanted to speed up this next orgasm to be in time with his, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Watching his cock disappear in her was a sight he hoped to hold onto in his mind. It made his eyes roll back in his head. 

He kept throwing his head back and grunting as he continued the final stretch before his orgasm.

“Can you choke me, please? Wanna cum with your hand around m’throat, please.” She asked and it took him by surprise. Little innocent Y/n liked being choked too? God, this really was his idea of heaven. 

“Please, what?” He asked sternly.

“Please, Daddy.”

He smirked, and Y/n knew she was done for. He slipped his free hand around her throat, rings cold to her neck as squeezed the sides, he watched her become dizzy with pleasure and she start to show signs of cumming again, which was good because he didn’t know if he’d last much longer.

“Cum for me please, Princess, milk me with that perfect pussy.” He said his voice all rough and slurring, his pussy had him losing his mind. He was so far gone.

With a few more circles on her clit, and deep thrusts she was squirting all over his cock with an intense grip on his prick. He felt her drip down him around his cock making creating more friction for him to continue his merciless pace.

“Cumming,” She cried out loudly lifting a hand to her mouth to cover it, and Harry had honestly forgotten they were supposed to be quiet. The only thing on his mind was filling her with his cum. She was still feeling the wave of her orgasm wash over her and was loose-lipped and limp as Harry started to feel the knot in his tummy unravel in a familiar feeling of complete pleasure.

Her pulsing pussy was squeezing his cock so hard he couldn’t wait any longer. “Getting close, Baby.”

“Cum for me Daddy, please want your cum so bad,” She pleaded. He released his grip from her throat and let his forehead press into her shoulder as she pulled him closer. Hands scratching his hair and hugging him close to her body. Craving him. 

“Fuck, cummin’ Y/n, cummin’.” He said as his cock twitched hard while he bottom out of her, when his loud moans began to spill from his lips she brought their mouths together and he moaned against her swollen lips. 

Even after cumming he stayed inside her for a moment, absolutely spent, head resting on her shoulder. She gently rubbed his back with her hands and didn’t mind him staying close. Eventually, he lifted off of her and kissed her forehead before pulling out, she winced at the feeling of him pulling out of her ruined pussy.

“One sec, Love.”

She nodded. And shifted her hips knowing tomorrow morning she’d struggle to sit. Her hips would probably be bruised and her body would ache, but she did not care one bit. She wouldn’t change what had just happened. She had the best orgasms of her entire life, and Harry seemed pretty content too. And it had been with Harry, of all people it had been with the one person she wasn't supposed to get with.

He tied off the condom and threw it in a little bin by his desk. He walked inside the en suite in his room (he’d won the coin toss), and wet a flannel. He came back with a warm cloth to wipe her down. She squirmed at his touch, feeling very sore and sensitive. “Sorry, Love, I know, but can’t have ya’ all sticky before bed can I?”

She just nodded once again. He put the flannel back in the sink and switched the light off coming back out to find Y/n limp and star-fished in the middle of his bed on the mess of his sheets. She looked completely spent, her three orgasms had tired her out so much. 

“Y’ want something to wear?” He asked. 

She nodded. “Thanks, Styles.”

He smiled at her usual name for him. “What happened to Daddy?”

“Oh, shut up.” She said blushing, he was probably going to keep bringing that up whenever he could, just to tease her. 

He grabbed a big baggy black shirt and some plaid boxers for from his drawer.

“Y’so cute when you blush, you know?”

She frowned hands moving to her face. “Stoppp!” She whispered loudly.

He handed her the clothes and helped her slide into them, and she half expected to be sent back to the couch downstairs and told thanks for the shag, but he pulled the duvet down the bed and patted the middle of the bed for her to sleep there. She moved to lay in the spot and Harry placed the duvet over her. 

Sliding back on his boxers from before, and running a hand through his messy sweaty hair he looked over at her. “I’ll get us some water, be right back.”

She nodded. “Alright.”

When he came back with two glasses of water he placed them on the bedside table and sighed before rolling in beside her. She turned to face him. “Hi,” she said with a giggle.

“Hi.” He replied with a small laugh too. 

“Your bed's very comfy, Styles.”

“Better than m’couch.” He replied sliding a hand onto her waist to rub her side, soothing her into a restful sleep.

“Much better, should’ve shagged you sooner if it meant bed privileges.”

He scoffed playfully, “Only using me for my cock and the comfy bed, aye?”

She laughed back. “Yeah, obviously, why else?”

He pulled her even closer and turned the tone more serious. “Thank you for before,”

She frowned confusedly. “The blowjob?”

He laughed softly. “No, in the kitchen.”

She laughed at herself. “Oh right,” She said lifting her hand to stroke his cheek which he leaned into. “Well, I like your rotten mouth and shocking brutal honesty and all the rest of you. Don’t worry about those guys.”

He leaned closer, a teasing expression lighting up his face. “You like me?”

She just rolled her eyes, shoving his shoulder playfully. 

“I like you too.”

This made her blush. “Go to sleep.”

“C’mere then,” 

She got even closer and fell asleep to the beat of his heart and gentle caress on her back.

The following morning, she woke up early, which was very unlike her, and in a total panic, that Emma might have noticed she was missing from the couch. Harry groaned grabbing her, “Don’t go.”

“Have to, Em’s gonna notice, she’d kill us both.” She said, voice all raspy and eyes bleary. 

He whined not letting go. “Stupid Emma.”

“Shh. I’ll see you later.” She was about to leave back downstairs, but he grabbed her and she watched him waiting for what else wanted from her. 

“Kiss?”

She leaned down and pecked his lips which he smiled at shutting his eyes to go back to sleep, and she left sneaking back downstairs. Sluggishly wrapping the blanket around her and shutting her eyes, even though she was much too giddy to sleep. 

When Emma woke up with a throbbing head she smiled at Y/n and she started making coffee quietly since her head couldn’t handle anything loud. This made Y/n stir, sitting up and turning the telly on sleepily. A re-run of Friends was on and she wrapped herself up in the blanket and sat back watching.

Emma wordlessly passed her a coffee and sat beside her, stealing some of the blanket. They spent the rest of the episode in silence just huddling together for warmth and sipping away tiredly, until Harry’s footsteps could be heard creaking down the stairs.

“Want some pancakes, children?”

The pair nodded. 

Y/n looked over at him smiling to herself, he’d changed into a loose navy crewneck and some pyjama pants. He looked gorgeous, and she was reminded of last night. She'd liked him for years, and now she'd done filthy things with him, would she ever recover?

When the pancakes were ready they all sat together at the table. Harry was a wonderful cook, he made a variety of pancakes.

Blueberry, chocolate chip, plain, some with strawberries and cream. He'd brought out lemon and sugar too because that's what Y/n liked on her pancakes, and lots of fruit for Emma. He'd brought out two big jugs of juice for them and a coffee pot.

“Sleep well, Em?” Asked Harry, with a mouthful of blueberry pancake chewing lazily. How did he even look sexy eating?

She nodded. “Yeah,”

“Me too.” He replied before turning to Y/n, who was mid-sip on some juice, it was a mix of berries and tasted sweet. “Y/n?”

She coughed, choking on her juice, and Harry smirked knowingly. Emma patted her back, “You alright, mate?”

“Yeah, just wrong hole. I slept fine.” Y/n said.

“Hate when that happens.” Harry teased, and she wanted to kick his shin but Emma definitely would’ve noticed.

They all finished their pancakes and after the big breakfast, Emma had an aspirin and told them both she was going back to bed for a nap.

“I might head off then,” Y/n said, she wanted to go home and nap herself. Harry had kept her awake for a good portion of the night after all, and her body was very sore. “I’ll get an Uber.”

“Alright, Babe,” She said hugging her. Y/n kissed her cheek and hugged her back.

“Bye, Babe,” Y/n said with a soft smile.

“Thanks for taking care of me. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Y/n nodded. “Of course, we have to do our monthly movie marathon rain, hail, or shine!”

Emma smiled. “Perfect, get home safe.”

They parted, and Emma went back to her room to sleep. Y/n’s Uber arrived moments later and Harry watched Y/n leave waving with a big devilish grin.

She waved back hopping in the Uber tiredly, as the car pulled away and Harry shut the door, her phone buzzed with a text.

Harry Styles🍒

Can I come over tonight?

Y/n felt a big grin overtake her face. 

what on earth for mr. styles?

Harry Styles🍒

Didn’t get to give a you proper goodbye, did I?

Y/n blushed with a small laugh as she typed back. 

see u at eight

Harry Styles🍒

See you then Baby X

Y/n bit her lip. What had she gotten herself into?

oh and bring snacks 

and that new film u were raving about to niall

Harry Styles🍒

Ok, done. See you tonight. XX

Y/n felt her cheeks heat up similar to last in the kitchen. This was not the Harry she knew, but she didn’t have it in her to complain. She saw flashes of last night of them together and squirmed in her seat.

‘💗💗’ She replied.

When she put her phone down in her lap and stared out at the window she sighed to herself, knowing she was completely done for. Harry had ruined her, she'd never be able to stop thinking about him and last night. However, she had very few complaints about it. Her phone buzzed yet again. She checked it.

Harry Styles🍒 hearted your message.

She smiled even more and shut her eyes, head resting against the leather seat, as she wondered if he was smiling this big too.

[elioslover]

I'm doing a blurb night to get some inspo guys, you can request like at least 2/3 numbers for one request, so send me some for Harry or for Steve? ily ily - emmy xoxxoxoxo

Angst/Fluff Prompt List Part 2

The first one was a big hit, so I hope you’re ready for a second one! These can work with ANY fandom! Reblog if you wish! (Please give credit, to where credit is due <3)!

“I need you.”

“You’re family.”

“I care about you.”

“Can I join you.”

“You made your choice.”

“This isn’t fair!”

“How could you do this?”

“Do you hate me?”

“I could never leave you behind.”

“Come with me.”

“That’s sweet.”

“You look great.”

“Where are you going?”

“That’s new.”

“Let me help you.”

“Drop the attitude.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’ve got you.”

“I’m worried about you.”

“You don’t seem like yourself tonight.”

“Do you like it?”

“You smell nice.”

“They didn’t deserve you.”

“I trust you, do you trust me?”

“Karma is a bitch.”

“What the hell?”

“Son of a bitch.”

“I hope your day gets better.”

“I’m here if you need to talk.”

“Are you listening to me?”

“Sorry.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Why are you acting like this?”

“How do I look?”

“Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.”

“What is this about?”

“You look like hell.”

“I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

“It’s good to see you.”

“You know, you can stay if you want to.”

“I’m not pissed, I’m hurt.”

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it?”

“I almost feel bad for you.”

“What you did was stupid.”

“No.  You listen to me.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I know you’re scared.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“You’re not helping.”

“It’s not safe here.”

“You should leave.”

“Everything is fine.”

“I’ll keep you safe.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Just go away.”

“You don’t have to act like you’re okay.”

“I’m only here to help.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

“Thanks for nothing.”

“I’m done.”

“You think that this is easy for me?”

“I hate seeing you like this.”

“You make me so mad.”

“I brought you dinner.”

“Say what?”

“You’ll be fine.”

“You’ve got me on your side.”

“I don’t like you…. I love you.”

“I don’t want you… I need you.”

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s okay to cry.”

“I can tell you’re lying.”

“You’re in danger.”

“You deserve better.”

“You’ve changed.”

“I think I’m in trouble.”

“You always find a way to surprise me.”

“You did what you had to do.”

“You have no idea.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“This is just great.”

“You’re here late.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“I wanted to apologize.”

“It’s just you and me.”

“I’m just looking out for you.”

“I never meant to fall in love with you, I just did.”

“Calm down.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Oh come on.”

“No one is perfect.”

“You’ve been quiet.”

“What did you just say?”

“I’ll always be there for you.”

“Fair enough.”

“When you fall, I’ll always be right there to catch you.”

“I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

“You’re not crazy.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“I hope you’re happy.”

“You’re the only person I wanted to be with tonight.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“You believe me, don’t you?”

“Regardless of what they think, I know you’re an amazing person.”

“Shhh…  You need to be quiet.”

“Fuck you!”

“You don’t even know me.”

[eveningepiphany]

need | h.s oneshot

summary: the two elite enemies of St Jacklyn college finally cave against the mass amounts of sexual tension they’ve shared… at a campus sleepover of all things.

warnings: SMUT, hot and heavy, enemies with impulsive benefits, dirty talk, fingering (fem rec), piv sex, classic supply closet sex!!

a/n: after being gone for a little while (basically M.I.A let’s be fr) I wanted to post a little smutshot🤍

———

At college, things happen, and they happen fast.

One minute you’ll be doing homework, and the next you’ll be at a party after a spontaneous invite.

Or you’ll plan for a night with friends but find yourself hooking up with a campus stranger.

It’s the way of life, you’re either going from one extreme to the other, or you’re not really in college.

And that’s exactly what’s currently about to happen to you again. It’s about to be zero to a hundred with you and one of the worst people to walk St Jacklyn halls.

It had started out as you both being out on a walk for fresh air, somehow at the same time. Which turned into a run in as it always does with the two of you— Harry Styles, the colleges token ‘golden’ boy immediately tutting out, “well well, look who else has snuck out for a walk around the halls.”

“How unfortunate our walks have coincided.” You had drawled at him, shaking your head as your feet clacked against the smooth stone flooring.

He had morphed a solo stroll into a joint one, because now he trailed by your side as you wandered the schools dim corridors, “don’t sound so upset, I know y’truly excited by the prospect.”

“Harry, can you fuck off?” Originally, this walk was purposed to clear your muddled head.

One of your ex-friends, Belle, had come up to you in the library— which was turned into a sleeping quarters— with a snide expression written all over her face. She was imploring that in around 2 hours, you check the St Jacklyn gossip page.

It sounds fickle, because it is fickle. The site is dedicated to the drama that goes on at the huge school. And you had been on the front page more than you would’ve liked lately, especially after your fall out with Belle.

“Why would I want to do that…? Plus, I’ve heard word that a story is bubbling about you.” He supplies, and your gaze slants over to him.

His long untamed hair is set free over his shoulders, and his green eyes were already trained on yours.

A sigh breaches through your mouth, the news coming from him is as unfortunate as being murdered before a month long holiday in the tropics. Because if he knows about it, then it just means Belle is telling everyone.

“Do you happen to know what it’s about too?” You ask, half prepared for him to avoid the question.

Which good thing you were expecting it, because that’s just what he did, “She’s being rather venomous. I really didn’t think she’d find footing after what she did to you. Shes much like…” he pauses in thought, brows furrowed as he files through his mind, “like a pest you can’t quite catch.”

“A pest.” You repeat in agreement, the first time you’ve ever sided with him on a statement, despite it being a backhanded dig at the fact you can’t seem to sort it out once and for all.

“Indeed, dove. And from what i know, the news that’s going up is nothing good.” He smirks, hands coming to clasp behind his back.

“Ah, bad news about me on St Jacklyns gossip page. Something you would know nothing about, of course.” You sneer at him, a reminder that you have neither forgiven or forgotten.

“All is fair in love and war, darling.” He justifies with a shrug, “you can’t claim to be a saint either.”

“Never did.” A scoff pasted your lips, “however you cant claim you didn’t start it.”

He overlaps you with his steps, now walking backwards in front of you, his eyes trailing up and down your body, “Just as bitter as ever…”

“Of course I’m bitter.” You spat out, flaring your hands out in quickly bubbling anger.

“You’re acting as if you weren’t the one to tell the blog I was sleeping with Sherman! Which was a fucking lie!”

“And like you didn’t egg my house after it.” He fires back.

“You stole my cat and dyed him green.”

“Well, y’shouldnt let your cat outside.”

“You’re a horrible person.”

“And you know what, Y/N, I think you are too.” He smiles, as though he’s proud of you.

“God.” You frustratedly huff out, stopping all together.

He smirks, coming to a halt as well, “Not my name, but I can appreciate the confusion.”

He steps forward into your space, lips curling upward, something mischievous sparkling in his green gaze.

“You are unbelievable.” You shake your head, face contorting with disgust. Trying to ignore his muscles that are popping as he crosses hims arms over his chest.

“Oh, but I have a feeling you love it.” He coos.

“I hate you, Harry.” You grit out, mimicking his stance— turning the sight of the two of you into the likes of a stand off.

“Mmm, you do?” A low hum comes from his throat, licking his lips as he looks at you.

“Harder than you’d ever be able to fathom.” You almost stutter out, mind fumbling as you’re sure he is mapping out some kind of move he’s about to make on you.

Things around here imitate a game of chess, every play as calculated as the next.

He is smiling at your constant digs of his character. You’re so this, you’re so that, you’d kept saying to him. Finding the most offensive describing words you could.

“So unbelievable that if I kissed you right now, you’d be shocked?”

You scowl at him, “not that I think you’d have the balls, but yes, I likely would be.”

“Is that a challenge?” He further perks up at your quip.

You have doubts he’d ever follow through, because you nod, with a cock of your brow. And oh how you were wrong about that. You should’ve known with the way he was eyeing you off like a meal.

He leans forward into your space, fast like the wind, yet his kiss like a breeze. Quick and gentle, and his point proven with a smug smirk being felt against your mouth hardly a second before he pulls away.

You— however shocked and slightly appalled that the enemies mouth just touched yours— are frozen to the spot.

He soaks in the look of surprise on your features, and a part of him tingles with the thrill of kissing someone who he knows could try and ruin his life. Just as you had countless times before.

An adrenaline rush spiked in him, along with something else, something stronger that he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Want your own challenge?” he suggests, derailing from his original plan. He doesn’t wait for an indication of an answer from yourself.

“You wouldn’t dare admit that you enjoyed that.” He muses.

“I didn’t.” You try to force confidence in your voice, certainty. But you’re only sounding defensive, just like a liar.

His words kick you into gear, and you shove his shoulder with the flat of your hand— yet it hardly budges his firm figure in the dim hallway.

“Should we try again?” The direction of the wind had changed, clearly. His voice a low constant hum, leaning forward again, hands brushing gingerly against your waist.

You swear the warm lights upon the walls flicker as though they were a flame being licked by the shift in the air around you.

“No.” You scoff, hands grabbing his wrists where they hung loosely on your hipbone— you’re tempted by his scent, but cautious of his habitual lying.

A wrong move and he will use it against you.

“And why not?” He says, and you choose your next words carefully.

“Because. You have to admit it first.” You state, deciding not to entirely close off the idea of kissing him again, but atleast removing an aspect of vulnerability from it.

“I’ll show you,” he pulls your body further into his, nose nudging against your own. It pushes your face up so your mouth is more accessible to his.

You’re suddenly flushing at the action, this was too far to prove a point— even for you— you decided.

He feels you squirm, “Do you not want me to kiss you? Or are you just nervous around me.”

“Don’t be conceited…” you scowl against his cheek, “you still repulse me.”

His throat makes a deep sound, and he grazes over your mouth. A tease, he does it again, and again.

The heat of his mouth is brushing yours in a torturous cycle— one that doesn’t seem to be ending on his terms. A soft pass of his lower lip, and you’re eager for more, but he pulls away just a fraction. All you can feel is the hot air passing through his parted lips. He doesn’t give in.

“I wouldn’t make you do something you didn’t want t’do…” His voice is no more than a whisper. It is truth as much as it is a trap. He’s instating that if you make the next move, you want this.

Everything is in the fine print around here.

You can feel him talking almost against your mouth, the small vibration of every syllable that passes through his lips. It’s tempting beyond belief, beginning to forge a sense of desperation in your body that not even you can condone.

His plan is working to a tea. You hate him so much for it.

He brushes his hands over you, heat radiating from his body. But not pushing into your mouth, just lingering.

Not making a move until you cave against him first.

He somehow knows you like the back of his hand, because you couldn’t resist pushing back into his mouth after all that. Despite the alarm bells absolutely blaring in your head, you went against them completely.

Three minutes of teasing was practically all it was, but it was enough to leave the hairs on your body standing up, and your lungs panting for air.

Enemies spend so much time carving stakes to throw at each other, that along the way they find out more about one another than anyone else. Idiosyncrasies that you somehow learn from warfare, has now stemmed into to being used with the art of… romance or whatever you call it.

Probably not romance— actually not at all romance— but whatever this is.

You know it’s true because right now, your hands are itching to pull his hair. You know he’s into it, since a whole post got aired out about it and you tried to use it against him hardly a few months ago.

He only played it off with a smirk, and an offer to see just how riled up it got him.

Just as now he bites at your lip, a thing he worked out of you when you were absolutely trashed at Belle’s end of semester party.

Something he cant lie he’s been craving to do since he found out.

This kiss goes from teasing and something that’s merely testing boundaries to an entirely fueled makeout session.

There was no room for words suddenly, except muttered curses being shared between the two of you.

Both of you are moving in sync, stepping backwards until his hands fumble with the door of a conveniently placed supply closet.

Your mind is whirling as he guides you into the even darker room. Hardly lit, it made everything feel like you were imagining it. Only outlines are visible, thanks to the thin warm rays of light snaking their way through the gap in the door.

Christ, he is tugging you hard against him, and you want it… his hands skating over your hips and dipping teasingly down to your ass are hardly helping your case.

Finally you get something out of your mouth, “fuck— is this still a part of your stupid agenda? Or do you actually want something?

He grabs your wrist, suddenly guiding it down to a place you can feel just how much he wants something.

You bite down hard on your lip to contain the gasp that almost slipped out as you feel the bulge he’s sporting beneath his jeans, “feel that, baby?”

Fuck… this is going to completely fuck you over. You need him? It hits you like a tonne of bricks, and also straight between your own legs.

A whine exits your mouth quicker than you can hold it back, and you wish for an ounce of shame that Harry just heard that. But you can’t seem to find it.

And infact, he revels in the noise, that high pitched sound of need that comes from you. It fuels him, because he wants to hear more of it.

Neither of you are thinking about circumstances right now. All you can feel is the intense sense of desire.

At least for yourself, the idea of finding a way to royally fuck Harry over is on the back burner.

You remind yourself this is just how college is. Things happen, and that’s fine…

Well, thats how you’re justifying right now. Because in reality, you don’t have a lot else to vouch for yourself with.

Overall, you’re stricken of breath from your actions, both figuratively and literally.

The way Harry’s lips are melded to yours, hot and smooth— kissing your mouth with such keen intent, anyone from the outside would think the situation laid on completely different grounds to the reality.

His body is moving insatiably against yours now, like you’re two people who have been longtime acquaintances or friends that have finally managed to make a move.

His hands skate the skin of your back with fervour, as though you both were strangers that really hit it off at an event.

But you still think those circumstances wouldn’t feel nearly as good as this one did. The hatred that flooded you everytime he was around fuelled you all the same.

Your hand is still placed over his bulge, cupping it as you both half devour each other. It’s hot to know you’re currently placed over his most vulnerable spot, and the fact he’s allowing it.

Especially when there’s enough history to warrant a punch to the groin.

It’s a reminder to how horrid an idea this technically is. That you’re fraternising with the worst person you possibly could.

You pant against him, spitting out a much needed reality check, “Fuck— I still hate you.”

He is your enemy. Your adversary. Your opponent. Not friend, only foe. Yet you’ve landed yourself in this supply closet with him. At your college. While half of your grade level is mingling downstairs.

You can’t tell if you regret picking a college that does so many random community activities. Such as a college sleepout, camping on campus as they’d deemed it.

It was set to strengthen connections with peers and mesh with those you haven’t before upon a familiar location.

And oh, are you meshing with someone you don’t usually…

“Hate me, hm?” He hums against the skin of your throat, baring his teeth and grazing them against it. Evoking a shudder from you at the sensation, which zipped down your spine and furthering the pool of warmth that gathered at the peak of your thighs.

Your hands tightened as they clutched his waist, nails scratching against the muscled flesh as you searched for a response.

“You’re an ass, Harry, I cant forget that even with your tongue in my mouth. And…” He licked a stripe up your neck, drawing back to meet your eye level as you spoke. Suddenly words weren’t coming out again.

“And?” He prompts, “Can’t forget tha’ even when im making you feel this good? When im getting you this worked up? And, probably when you know im able to give you the best orgasm of your life.”

You shoved his chest, yet balling his shirt up so you could immediately pull him closer against you. The idea of going further made you flushed, despite that being the only way everything is headed with the make out session you just had.

But it’s hard to miss the way it’s exactly what your body is rioting for. Not to mention the way his gorgeous and pouty face that’s hardly visible in this light works you up even more.

“Just… shut your mouth. Keep it closed.” You pleaded, letting your hands slide underneath his shirt and scratch against his taut muscles. A part of you longing to see the tattoos hidden beneath.

“How would I do this, then?” He guided his lips back against yours and licked into your mouth. His skilful tongue made you weak against him, the way it swirled around your own.

The exchange almost made your knees buckle where you stood pressed up against the door. Hands wringing against the oddly soft skin of his back, his mouth tasting of mint.

Every part of him was unfairly perfect, down to the way he tasted— which made you almost drool it was that good. But regardless, it’s messed up he’s allowed to walk around being so flawless.

Well, physically flawless anyway… given what flaws he lacks in that department, he makes up for with his subpar personality.

As his warm mouth moves against yours, your hands dipped back down to where his belt laid, toying with the buckle.

He drew his mouth back, yet pushing his thigh forward— slotting it between your legs with a satisfied hum. “Pretty thing, pullin’ on m’belt like you’re desperate for something.”

His words made you shudder, and you know he’s trying to ease you into some kind of submission. And you hate the way it would probably work.

“Desperate? Coming from the one who is already pushing his cock into my hand through his jeans.” The scoff he let out gave you a rush of satisfaction.

Although he didnt verbally retaliate, a hand tucked into your hair and pulled your head back. Exposing your neck so he could suck a harsh mark into it.

“Y’all talk, darling…” he whispers, letting your hair go and slipping his fingers nimbly under your fitted shirt.

His hand is pressed into your breast firmly over the top of your bra, held down by the tight fabric of your top.

It renders you senseless, the feeling of his warm palm atop your skin. Hand held over the heart you swore a million times he wanted to rip out of your chest.

Your own fingertips glide along his arm, feeling the soft hair dusting them, and coming to instinctually clutch his bicep.

There was both fear and arousal pumping through you, it was a sick and twisted adrenaline high that pushed you further into his game.

You unconsciously ground yourself against the thigh his had worked its way between your legs, a whimper slipping out as he gently squeezed your tit.

His name slipped from your mouth, sounding like a desperate plea.

“Y/N, baby.” He mocks almost, “just tell me what you need.”

It’s a shame you didn’t have the strength to even hesitate, “You.”

A satisfied hum from his throat embarrassed you, yet not enough to stop grinding down onto his jean-covered thigh.

His hand retracts from where it was inside your top, and disappears south. Fingers dipping below the fabric of your leggings, and touching over your core like it was nothing.

Your legs nearly gave out as his fingers drew over your fabric covered clit. A noise rattling in your chest as he adds a hint of pressure.

It feels heavenly even over a layer of fabric. Nails were now dug into the flesh of his arm, and your brain starting racing even faster than your heart.

Need, need, need.

That’s the only chorus you could hear in you head, you needed to feel his fingers press inside of you. You would even resort to begging if it came to it.

“Everyone always acts like you’re such a good girl, dove.” He shakes his head, already foreshadowing his disagreement with his tone.

He delivers a flick of your clit, “but you’re not really. Not at all.”

The dampness of your panties could almost make him moan aloud, but he holds himself back, continuing his little speech.

“If only they could see how wet your pussy’s gotten for me. Just how badly you want something from me.”

“Shut up.” You wish it held even a hint of venom, but it was yet another plead to him.

He leans forwards and captures your lips in a short but searing kiss, licking into your mouth for hardly a second before retracting.

“Want my fingers inside of you?” He asks, ignoring your previous complaint.

The idea sounds like a fucking dream right now, and you nod feverishly despite him hardly being able to see it.

“Yes, just do it, please.”

He waits hardly much longer before pushing your soaked underwear aside, allowing his middle finger to slip through your wet centre.

The sensation of the first contact skin-to-skin releases a full body shudder from you, and then furthers into a groan as he eases into your soaked hole.

He wastes no time curving it upward, eager to hear your moans. There’s no resistance as he touches you, you melt into him.

“Fucks sake,” he curses as you rut into his palm, craving the friction of it against your clit.

“So keen to grind yourself all over my hand, huh? Who would’ve thought I’d have you in here tonight, making a mess on my fingers.”

His voice is idilic as it enters your euphoric mind, even though his words are a dig at you, you can help but be turned on even more by it.

“Please…” you whine, although you’re not even sure what it is you’re begging for.

He starts to move his hand faster, there’s a level of skill behind it, he knows what he’s doing.

The pressure of his upper palm against your clit, and the circles he’s rubbing inside of you. Pressing at a sweet spot that’s making you drip.

It’s not long before you can hear how wet you are, hardly masked by the moans flying from your mouth.

“Already going to come?” He chuckles, kissing at your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck— Harry…”

He pushes in a second finger, making your back arch in pleasure. Christ, it felt so fucking good.

You are so unbelievably wet, and in the back of your mind you can’t believe he’s got you in a state like this.

Palms fisting at his shirt, pulling him as close as you can get. He can tell you’re starting to unravel between him.

Your hole is pulsing in response to his fast and firm hands, and profanities flying from your lips.

“Cmon, show me how much you hate me, Y/N.”

“I hate you!” You cry, and the feeling of your impending orgasm is taking over your whole body. It’s burning in your stomach, aching in your chest.

His fingers somehow curl faster inside of you, and finally make you snap.

A cry falls from your mouth and your hips jerk harshly against him.

“Ride it out, good girl…” he coos to you, and your head is spinning.

Somehow, as you come down from your high, it was not enough.

“More, Harry.”

A silence envelops you both for a second, “what?”

“Need you inside of me.”

When he doesn’t move to action your request, you start fumbling to unbuckle his belt.

“Woah, slow down baby. Think for a second, gotta let you settle first.” His tone translates as unsure in your mind.

“Do you not want to?” You frown at him, “Just say that, im not going to be—

“No.” He immediately interjects, “not sayin’ that at all dove, just want you to clear y’head for a second.”

His hand has slipped out of your leggings, and his reminder makes you take a deep breath. It was almost sweet, even though it was the bare minimum.

“I’m fine.” You sigh, “thank you, though.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay?”

You’re surprised he has any decency at all in that regard.

“I know…” your hands have now slid his belt off him, “but I want you to fuck me, like fuck me absolutely stupid.”

“God, Y/N.” He rasps, “trying to be so gentle with you right now, an’ y’just want to be filled with my cock.”

“I do, so help me take these off.” You work to slide his jeans down.

There’s a fumble with eachothers clothing that quickly follows, all the sudden shirts are being torn off and pants shucked down from eachothers legs.

Thrown in random directions to be dealt with a later time, because right now all the can be felt is the desire.

“I’ve got a condom.”

“Why the fuck do you have a condom at a school camp out?” You scoffed, but typical of Harry to cart around a condom ‘just incase’.

“Ah well, yknow. Prepared for any occasion.”

You rolled your eyes, hands pressed on his chest, “God you have a way of making a girl feel special.”

“Darling, if you’re worried about that let me show you.” He runs his fingers down your body, lingering on the low of your belly.

“I shouldn’t be so surprised, I know better than anyone you’re one of St Jacklyn’s biggest man whores.”

“Not a man whore, just have an appreciation for a woman’s beauty.”

You lean in to kiss at his jaw, “I’ll pretend that’s not a bit objectifying.”

He groans, subconsciously cocking his head back so you have more room to peck at, “you’re impossible to please.”

“You haven’t tried that hard yet.” You sing, swinging the topic back to its original starting point.

“Oh yea?” He grips at your waist, tearing the condom he pulled from god knows where and moving his briefs down his thighs so he can roll it down his length.

He quickly pushes you back, so your body is pressed into the wall again, and a heat envelopes your body all over again.

His hands are now toying with your underwear, his lips back over yours as he teases you all over again.

You can feel his cock pressed against your thigh, and although there’s hardly enough light to get a good look, you can tell he’s big. Perfectly equipped, if you will.

Your hand finds its way to wrap around him, wishing for a second he wasn’t covered with a condom so you could really feel him.

Nevertheless, you give him a slow and steady stroke, taking great pride in the pleasure-filled sigh that gets drawn from his lungs.

“Fuck Y/N…”

“Look who’s whining now, good boy.”

He doesn’t even have the mental resolve to quip back at you, he simply cranes into your touch, mouthing at your chest absentmindedly.

“You’re gonna make m’come before im even inside of you. C’mere.”

He tugs your underwear down all the way, letting you step out of it. Wasting no time sliding his hand around the back of your thigh, lifting it up around his waist.

Your hands run over his shirtless frame, palming at the taut abs he has, trying not to salivate.

“You tell me if you want to stop or change something, alright?”

You nod, but it wasn’t enough for him, “need an answer, darling.”

“Yes, thank you.” Your answer was sighed, a flutter of your eyelids as he presses his cock against your clit.

You whine as he runs his tip through your slit, coating himself in your pooled arousal, his breathing heavy.

He takes his time here, teasing you, pushing into you just enough to have you clenching around him yet still leave you begging him for more.

“Harry, Harry please.”

He knew exactly how to work you so he got this. The begging and pleading to be filled up with him.

“Tell me what y’want.” His voice is raspy, yet drips with honey.

“You.”

He tuts, flicking your sensitive clit, “need more detail than that.”

“Want… fuck.” You roll your hips against him, “want you to fuck me so deep, please. Need to feel you all the way inside of me.”

There was no shame for you right now, all you could focus on was the pulsing need deep in your core, aching to be stretched out by him.

“That’s it dove,” he finally pushes in, moaning in sync with you.

“Fuck, you feel so nice around me.”

Your hole is already clenching around his length, your hips mindlessly grinding down into him. Pulling him in deeper until he’s hitting all the perfect spots.

He groans at your needy rutting against him, making him start to pump inside of you, hardly taking a slow start.

You feel your brain nearly switch off, all but the part that’s associated with him. His scent, his touch, all the history that you’re seemingly fucking out right now.

“Need you to go harder.” You cry, making him almost chuckle.

“What a wonderful thing t’hear from you. That you, the girl who fucking hates me wants me to fuck her senseless.” His statement is panted out, and usually you’d say something snarky back, but right now none of that crosses your mind.

“Please, want you to ruin me…”

Right now that is all you want, to be completely ruined.

He doesn’t take your request light heartedly, he ruts into you with deep and fast strokes. Hand coming to where your clit is, toying with it at the same pace.

He mutters dirty words into your ear as he keeps going, winding you up even when you didn’t think you could anymore.

“Cmon baby, show me how you let go around me.” He pushes, grabbing at the back of your head, lacing his hands into your hair.

He tugs your lips against his, and your moaning against him still, mouth wide open.

His name falls from your tongue like a mantra, over and over again until you’re nearly collapsed. He has to hold you up when you start to come, your knees completely cave in.

“Oh my— oh my god!” Your whole body rocks against his hold, his cock hitting places inside of you that you didn’t even know you had.

“Don’t stop, please don’t..” you feel the second he starts to unravel with you, his thrusts lapse in pace and all the sudden his breath stutters.

“Oh fuck, Y/N!” He grunts and falls into you as, “why didn’t we do this earlier, fuckin’ hell.”

His cock twitches inside of you, and both of you are stricken of air, lightheaded but filled with so much pleasure.

“That was so good, Harry…” you kiss at his neck, and his breath passes out as a chuckle.

“Still hate my guts though?” He laughs.

Your palms run down his back, relaxing as he slides out of you, “Mhmm, a good fuck isn’t gonna change that.”

“Atleast you can admit im good in bed.” He teases.

“Technically we’re not in a bed, so not sure if that point stands.”

“Just had you crying out my name as you come around my dick n’ you’re already back to mouthing me off.”

“Mouthing you off, huh?”

He snorts, “right, you dirty thing.”

“Can mouth you off if you beg for it.”

“Already want a round two with me, isn’t that saying something.” He stares at you, lips curling into a smile.

“You made me finish twice, seems only fair.” You suggest.

And suddenly, you realised you’ve gotten into a very dangerous spiral with a very dangerous player in your game.

Only time will tell…

———

a/n: I have hardly edited this but I really really just wanted to post again, I hope it’s okay and the writing isn’t too rusty lol

[freedomfireflies]

I recently saw that Coldplay took a fan from the audience on stage and she played ‘green eyes’ on guitar with them. Could you maybe write something similar about Harry inviting the reader on stage when she had a sign that said if she could play ‘boyfriends’ or ‘Cherry’ or something with him?? <3

To the wonderful anon who requested this: I'm so sorry it took me so long to finish this, I have no idea if you're still around to see it, but thank you so much for taking the time to create such a cool idea and for entrusting me with it 😭 I hope I can do it justice!

You’re gonna murder Stacy Henderson.

You decide this as you’re walking up the short set of stairs that leads to the stage, ears ringing from the sound of thousands of fans anticipating your arrival.

You have no idea how you got here.

It all started back in the third grade, when on your first day of school, Stacy convinced you to climb to the top of the slide with her. 

At the time, the top of the slide was like Mount Everest to the third graders, but Stacy was convinced she could do it, so she grabbed your hand, and dragged you along with her.

Turns out, she couldn’t do it and chickened out on the second step up. You, however, weren’t as easily deterred and managed to make it to the top with a shout before you slid down.

It was the coolest thing you’d ever done. And you don’t think you would have done it without her.

Which is probably why she’s somehow been convincing you to do things you don’t want to do ever since. Like following her along like a lost puppy to a Harry Styles concert. 

But just going wasn’t good enough. She had to pick out the perfect boa, the perfect shoes to match her already perfect manicure, and last but not least…she had to make a sign.

With lots of glitter.

You were happy for her, really. She was just glowing, and it wasn’t all the highlighter she’d applied. She loved Harry more than anything and the minute he made eye contact with her sign, you could see her eyes just about blow out of her head.

He’d laughed when he read it. “You’re cherry sweet! I’d pick you every time!” 

It was a little dorky, but she’d spent all night perfecting it, and you were glad he found it amusing. 

“That’s very kind,” he’d said, hand over his heart. “I’d pick you, too.”

The stadium cheered, squealed, and nearly fainted at the sentiment before his head began to tilt. 

“Ah, I see we have a Jimi Hendrix fan,” he commented, nodding at her shirt. “Do you play? Or did you just like the shirt? Are you a poser?” 

He smirked to let her know he was teasing as the room laughed and she shook her head before she suddenly pointed at you. “No, it’s my friends’ shirt! She plays!” she yelled before his attention turned to you.

Fuck.

You’d felt your heart drop to your ass as the glorious and very tall man suddenly sidestepped his way a bit closer to your side of the pit. 

“Is that so?” he asked, sounding rather intrigued. “Do you play a lot of Hendrix songs?”

You felt the blood rush from your face as you forced yourself to speak. “Uh…sometimes. Depends on my mood, I guess.”

“Depends on the mood,” he repeated, nodding as he glanced out at the crowd. “Well, she’s not wrong there. Have you ever played anything a bit…softer?”

More cheering as you glanced at your friend, who looked like she was about to pass out from the excitement. 

“Yeah,” you finally answered, and he began to grin.

“Well, that is in-ter-est-ing,” he hummed, rather smugly as you began to feel your pulse race beneath your chest. “Say…speaking of picking…if it’s all right with your friend, how’s about you do something cherry sweet for us and come help out on this next song?”

The arena just about collapsed as the question hung in the air, the group of girls around you suddenly clamoring to get closer. And your ears filled with the sound of crying, screaming, and hollering until they just about bled.

You didn’t know what else to do. What else to say. You just…stared at him.

“Only if…you’re comfortable with it,” he was quick to clarify, hand raising into the air as if surrendering. “I know we’re no Jimi but…you know, we do our best. Mitch can make any solo his bitch.”

You would have laughed if you weren’t seconds away from hurling all over the floor.

“What do you say?” he asked as Stacy suddenly grabbed your arm. 

“You have to,” she hissed. “You have to, oh my god, he never does this. He never does this, you have to go. Say yes—no, say it to him!”

But you couldn’t say yes. Mostly because your tongue had gone numb but also because he wouldn’t have been able to hear you anyway, so…you nodded.

“Al right!” he exclaimed as if you’d just told him he won the lottery before he began to usher a security guard to come collect you. “She said yes, everyone!”

More cheering as you were led through the pit and toward the stage.

And now…here you are.

Seconds away from chucking a microphone stand at Stacy’s head.

You’ve never felt so many eyes on you at once. So many lights. It’s a wonder this man doesn’t pass out from exhaustionthe way he dances around in those long sleeves and pants. 

However, before you can truly succumb to the spiral you’re starting to find yourself in, Mitch and Harry jog their way to your side as somebody passes you a rather elegant looking electric guitar.

“Hey,” Mitch calls, offering a smile when he notices the panicked look on your face. “Don’t sweat it. Cherry’s the next song, it’s pretty simple. Just follow my lead and I’ll try not to fuck it up.”

You laugh weakly just as Harry skids his way to the huddle, rather peppy for someone who's been tap dancing all night.

“Hi,” he beams, and all you can do is blink as you finally see him. Up close and very personal. God, why is he so…structured? Has he always been this hot? “Sorry to put ya on the spot like that, I get a little…over-excited at times.”

Mitch snorts as if that’s the understatement of the year, and Harry lifts his middle finger into the air in retaliation.

You hear the arena cheer.

“Okay, s’really simple. Just come stand by me, yeah? It’ll be over in a flash, and they’ll sing so loud, you won’t really hear anything else, anyway,” he attempts to explain, and you nod. “So…if you fuck up, literally nobody will know. If that helps at all.”

“It does,” you admit, glancing back down at the instrument in your possession.

He watches you for a moment, as if pleased. “Okay, are you ready?”

“No,” you answer honestly, and both boys smirk. 

“Perfect.” With that, he offers a wink and begins to lead you toward the center of the stage, returning to his microphone as you and Mitch get settled off to the side. “All right, before we get started, let’s give a big hand for our very own rockstar!”

Again, the blood drains from your face as the entire room is forced to chant for you, and you quickly look around to find Stacy, who’s jumping up and down so fervently, you’re surprised she doesn’t just take flight.

Harry is handed his own guitar, making sure the strap is situated and his fingering is correct before he takes a deep breath, looks over at you and Mitch, and begins to play.

For the first few seconds, you’re terrified. Already commanding yourself not to mess up as he easily croons the lyrics that you’ve always found rather heartbreaking. Because of all the songs to fuck up, you’re thinking maybe this isn’t the one. 

But, as it turns out, he was right. It’s a pretty simple song, and with Mitch to your left, it’s not hard to follow along and find the right melody.

By the second verse, you begin to enjoy yourself, subconsciously mouthing the words as he gets to the chorus. 

He glances over at you from time to time, just to make sure you haven’t passed out (you assume), and always looks rather proud when he sees the way you’ve found your grove.

However, this time when he looks at you, his brow cocks up and you realize he’s watching you sing along.

You’re quick to clamp your mouth shut, eyes returning to the strings as you zero in on your performance.

You hear him smile as he begins to wrap up the song and before you know it…it’s over.

Both relieved and a little disappointed, you turn to return the guitar back to its rightful owner and return yourself down to the floor.

Where you belong.

But as you’re calling a quick goodbye to Mitch, you feel a large hand sweep down your back and encourage you to turn around.

You do, catching Harry’s bright smile as he suddenly leans in to whisper something in your ear.

The crowd continues to scream their enthusiasm as your eyes widen, a bit confused and rather flustered by Harry’s admittance.

When he’s through, he moves back and catches your eye, head tilting curiously as he awaits your response.

You nod.

With that, he laughs, winking once more before jogging backward toward the center of the stage to continue on with the show.

As if in a trance, you walk down the steps and let security bring you back to Stacy, who grabs onto you before anybody else getting ready to can.

“Oh my god, what did he say? No, wait, what did he smell like? No…no, tell me what he said first and then tell me what he smelled like,” she gushes, chest heaving as if she’s about to have a panic attack.

You roll your lips into your mouth, turning to glance over your shoulder at the stage as Harry serenades the audience with the next song on the list. “Turns out…you were right.”

He catches your eye.

And you grin.

“He’s not so bad after all.”

~ Full Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

[hapinesbuterfiy]

. ୨🪩୧ ₊˚ 🍒 ʚ ♡ ˚ 🎀 +

lets talk about rafe x fangirl!reader...

you love being a fangirl and all of the late release nights, hundreds of dollars spent in merch and concert tickets, and the constant hours of waiting in ticketmaster queues that came with it. having an insanely rich and obsessive boyfriend who would spend millions to make you happy had it's perks!

it took rafe a while to get used to your antics, never did he ever think he would be waking up at 2am to queue for a concert, but who else would be accompanying his girl? certainly not anyone else, he wouldn't have it. at first, he attempted to persuade you to buy actual seats instead of pit tickets with the "proactive person" approach. "are you fuckin' crazy? you're meanin' to tell me that you would rather sleep on the filthy fuckin' streets outside the venue waiting for hours when i could just buy you an entire box of seats? you're fuckin' insane." he stomps around your bedroom while standing above you, unable to fathom the lengths that you're willing to go to for a good view at a show. "rafe it's not the same you just don't get it! i need to be at the barricade there is literally no point in going if lana del rey can't watch me sob in front of her while singing pretty when you cry." he rolls his eyes at your remark, shaking his head in disbelief while sucking in his bottom lip. "yea—yea fuckin' barricade my ass, you shithead. lucky i wouldn't fuckin' make you go alone." you perk up, kissing his cheek in excitement. "thank you!" you've got him wrapped around your pretty little finger.

you're passionate, to say the least! why would you spent countless nights sobbing to grainy eras tour live streams after taylor swift plays your favorite songs without you there alone when you could be doing it with rafe by your side? he thinks you're insane for crying over a song, giving you his best fake sympathy act each time it happens, which is practically every time she has a concert because her entire discography is yours. you try your best to make out words through your sniffles and sobs, "i hate taylor swift so much. why would she bring gracie abrams out to play i miss you i'm sorry without me there?" you continue to choke on your sobs and manage to pull yourself even close into his chest. "she's so mean i hate her rafe." he tries his best to console you but can't help but laugh at your disheveled state and the snot coming out of your nose over a song, he is rafe, after all. "baby— i don't know what to tell you. maybe she'll like play it again when you see her, i don't fuckin' know." he wipes your face with his thumbs, as he continues to laugh at you reaching out for his phone to take a video of you so he can make fun of you later for it.

you practically control the aux cord in his jeep, as his girlfriend it's basically your job to make sure he has good music taste! plus the same future songs that he plays over and over again are starting to become unbearable. "so this is thank u, next, it's literally ariana's best single like i swear i would not be the same person without this song it's so me core." he parts his lips in frustration, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "the fuck do you mean that's so me core? are you tryin' to say somethin' here?" he tries to pretend that he isn't enjoying it but you can hear him mumble "thank u, next m' im so fuckin' grateful for my ex." your eyes light up as you land a playful slap to his shoulder "see i told you it was a good song, you're too stubborn!" he completely disregards you, turning the volume up even higher so that you stop chirping in his ear.

you're a handful and a tad bit loud, but rafe secretly enjoys putting with your shit. you're his princess and if that meant he had to book an entire trip to italy just so you could go see harry styles for the last show on love on tour just to make you happy, he would be doing so!

[moodymarie]

Reading fanfics with y/l/n is such a struggle as a european

Like they would never be able to pronounce my last name 😭😭😭