#harryharryharry

[rainbenrry23]

Look what I found in my camera roll

[whitealbum]

but seriously watching all of these straight celebrities half ass the met gala is gonna be especially painful this year like this is a gays only event go home

[muffindaddystyles]

I WANT YOUR BELLY.

Summary: The shimmery vest of Harry's on you makes him combust on the spot ;)

A bottle of wine gone in a span of minutes. Your giggles treacly and slurry as you poke his heart-shaped, wine stained lips matching with his pink refulgent vest and he grins toothy-ly sweat sheened on his perfect features and his nose twitches into besotted sniff of your fragrance, leaning down to murmur his lips to yours.

“What got ya gigglin’ like tha’ lovebug?” You shake your head in slight carelessness. His brows furrowing in confusion, mouth parting musingly into a soft chuckle when you shimmy his vest down his arms leaving his upper half naked and all beautiful for you to admire.

“Just relax and see.” You whine out timidly tip-toeing on your toesies to the centre of the hotel room you guys are staying at -- well more like fucking morning and evening with a little tinge of exclusivity everytime.

When you came back to this cosy place of yours after an hour of his show ending that shimmery feeling of proud for him and the jitteriness to love on him was still there, more like doubled up when your eyes weren’t able to drift away from the stiff bulge forming in his pants from all the adrenaline and heat pumping in his body due to praises.

He takes pride in it, absolutely basks in the novelty of it.

His dimples dings up into a wicked smirk, the heels of his palms sinking into the soft bedding as he man-spreads quite sexily and leans into his own weight then straightens up immediately with bright eyes and a shit-eating grin when you strip down your clothes slowly.

“You givin’ me a strip tease baby!?” He howls playfully and you shushes him through sputtry giggles, head lulling at your shoulder and you laugh at the top of your lung as he rolls his eyes to his skull in the most erotic way and squeezes his straining member with the cup of his large palm when you get rid of every item of clothing you had on your body and with hesitant glances his way wears his vest.

It accentuates your curves beautifully, falling a little over your thighs from how big it’s since it’s his’s and it gives the most pristine view of the crescent of your tits and the valley between them.

His stomach froths with heat, the fabric of his pink flared bottoms from his splotching with the dollops of his precome and his bare chest heaves with raged breaths as you rub your one feet over another in timidness, knowing you’re drunk enough to do this but sober enough to contemplate how to put it infront of him.

Though they both know even if you move it an inch away to show him your perky tits, it’s over for the curly head.

“You know how belly dancers got this cute sparkly shiny dresses to make them appear more bendy? I’ve always wanted to do that! It seems so fun!” To your defence you always wanted to dance as carefree and fun as they do all you didn’t know was that it’ll be like this – giving a literal fever to your boyfriend and arousing both of you to such an extent where all his fierce eyes are indicating he’s about to strike forward and throw you on the bed and pound into you reckless.

The room fills with her sweet laugh when Harry fans himself, puffing out huge inhales of breaths and smirks at her cheekily.

“A lap dance would be much appreciated, thank you.” He's almost about to burst because she sure as hell looks amazingly stretchy and bendy and very breed able in this shiny thing.

“What a gentleman. Now, put on some music so I could give you a show you really deserve.” You command him and he nearly whimpers wanting to crawl towards you and spanks that bum of yours.

You’re suppressing your chuckles when he almost falls face first into the carpeted floor while scrambling to put on some music and when he returns back he’s rocking back and forth like an impatient kid -- doing anything in his will to give a bit friction, some relive to his throbbing cock.

“Promise that you wouldn’t make fun of me.” You point a finger at him, eyebrow raised to assert a little bit of power you’ve over him.

“C’mon baby! My balls are turning blue d'ya think I could ever make fun of you when you’re being such a good girl f'me?” His groans shaky and hoarse, nostrils flaring and his hands sandwiching between his thighs to subside the ache that you caused.

Hot white pleasure surges through each of his cervices and rattles through his bones upon the absolute lewd and smutty sight of you dancing for him with your eyes affixed on him like a seductress and it pelts his skin hot.

“Fuck.” He’s cursing under his breath, as you curve around gracefully and shakes your ass for him teasing your fingers over the waistband of your lace panties.

You bite down your lip when he puts his fingers under his tongue with his mouth sucked around them as he wolf whistles for you.

“Yes you go baby!” He yells at you making you laugh rosying your features and not failing to make you feel tingly under his passionate gaze.

The he looks down at himself in rather pique tugging his tight briefs a little away from suffocating his dick that's swelling up awfully fast and leaking with every graze and touch making him hiss groggily through his teeth loudly.

His reaction makes your cheeks flush and your toes curl against the soft carpet, making you all gooey with your own slick.

He almost looses it when you roll your hips and your tummy ripples raunchily.

You’re taken aback when he’s striding towards you, cupping the nape of your neck roughly and pressing his thumb into your nervy pulse pushing you till you’re pressed into the wall and he’s muffling your surprised squeaks with a big fat smooch to your lips which turns into sloppy heated work of mouths, tongues slick and naughty against eachother, teeth nibbling and teasing, lips too desperate to be parting away and when they do they’re hovering over eachother with their breaths hot and fanning.

“Look at y'being a filthy tease.” He tuts, warm fingertips tickling down your chest and sneaking under his vest to palm your tits as he ducks down to lick a fat stripe up your throat then sink his teeth into soft underbelly of your jaw.

“Now tell me who taught you to dance this good?” Everyone should sit down and takes notes from one and only Harry Styles; the man sure knows how to lie through his teeth because what you pulled moments ago was just clumsy drunk flailing of limbs.

“God gifted.” He chuckles mockingly, tapping your bottom pouty lip.

Your neck stretches far giving him more access to mark you as his’s, your fingers manoeuvring into his sweaty ruffled up curls when he glances up at you intensely with your nipples sucked in his mouth and his hand gliding into your panties – smirking goadingly at the squirm and pathetic gurgle of your tone.

“just like this pussy of yours?”

Except his eyes no blade can control you, no sharpened knife. That lascivious gaze’s enough to threaten a storm up your thighs and cause a rainfall between your legs.

Carefully, he puts his knees on the floor one by one while he paws at your hips to vignette admiring kisses down your midriff.

“Stop! It tickles!” You gasp giggle when his fingers palliates into your soft love-handles nipping and lapping then sponging tender kisses to your belly, your back arching abruptly with a low crack your blunt nails scratching down the wallpaper when Harry coos and spurts noises of admiration.

“Can’t help it, poppet. I love your little belly so much.” Your mouth parts around shallow breaths when he nuzzles his nose against your heat and engulfs into the tangerine smell of your arousal, pressing a kiss to the damp spot and murmuring against it with his calloused palm hardly pressed to your quivering tummy.

“Love feelin’ myself snug in your belly, how it warbles and gurgles fo’ me t’ fill it up with me cum,” His gruff tone sending cold shivers down your spine, making you wetter and slicker, pussy lips clenching around nothing making squelching noises catching Harry’s attention and he smirks ominously -- startling you with a gentle nip to the inside of your thighs then ripping your panties in one harsh tug.

“You love takin’ my cock in this cute belly of yours don’t ye' kitten?” He asks you, eyes glued to the way you melt into his touch when he parts your glistening pulsating folds away with his middle and index, mesmerised at how drippy you’ve managed to get for him as it coats his digits then tricks down his wrist thickly.

“Hmm. Guess like I’ve no option but to treat myself to the sweet pussy of my belly dancer.” He hums roguishly, making you bob your head vigorously and pulling at his hair to nudge him to do something anything to quell this ache that's soaring like a flame in wind making you embarrassingly more slippery every passing second.

Your eyelids skewers tight, fingers falling lip atop the mop of his curls and knees quaking thanks to Harry’s strong biceps straddling you over his shoulders as he spreads your legs wider apart and grips onto your thighs with his all might and strokes his tongue in one tantalising hot lick from all the way to your slit up your pulsing clitoris wrapping his lips around the sensitive nub into a nasty suck and toys it around with his tongue.

“Ha –- H ... Harry!” You whimper out meekly grinding your cunt against the faint stubble growing over his cupid-bow, pleasure spiking into your each pore at how good it feels.

“Mhmm kitten, tell me does daddy makes y'feel good? Warm and nice?” A string of saliva connects his lips and your clitoris. He presses his two fingers to it moving them up and down to lube them then to rub your clit in tight little circles, putting right pressure and attention to it as you cry out slumping against the wall and grabbing onto the nearest furniture with a mantra of harryharryharry booming in your head.

“Yes, yes, yes. You’re so good to me,” You mewl out impishly incasing his head perfectly between your thighs, trembling in his hold when he eases his ring and middle finger inside you gauging for your reactions and carousing in the way your face falls placid into pure bliss, your lips wobbly and the corners of your eyes dotting pink.

“This feels good, moppet?” He asks gruffly curling to caress the spot that sends you into wreck havoc and plunges his fingers deeper inside you, the tip of his nose stuffing into your mound as he licks into you hungrily and sloppily getting his cheeks and chin all messy and shiny with your juices.

“Bet, daddy’s cock feels better. Stuffs y’belly more good.” He growls, the vibrations jolting you in your skin. His fingers fucking into you quicker and deeper, pushing his knuckles to your weepy tight entrance – your cunt swallowing his rings.

Your chin tips up towards the ceiling moaning breathily, thighs trembling and hands gripping his shoulders that’ll leave guaranteed bruises as the ministrations of his mouth and tongue on you, his fingers thrusting in you and his face making a mess out of your drippiness become too much for you sending you into a over drive of buzziness making you lightheaded and floaty.

“C’mon kitten drench me, cum in daddy’s mouth.” Is all it takes for you to do what he asked for and you almost fell forward if not for Harry’s support squirting with loud and wounded moans.

He almost combusts in his pants when you grit carnally riding his face and shoving yourself down into him, not able to stop coming while he encourages you, soothing your aching thighs with gentle strokes, “That’s it baby, atta girl.” And “You did so good f'me kitten, g’na show you how hard ‘m for you.”

"Cute. How bout I fuck you in every one of my outfits?" He pats your cheek, smacking a big kiss to it and doesn't wait for your response before throwing you over his shoulder and landing a stinging slap to your bum.

His dark lustful eyes indicating that he’s not done with you yet.

[tracingpatternswrites]

Today is Sirius’ canonical death day so if anyone feels like wallowing in the angst and the sadness, here’s the very last bit of my longfic The Star and the Moon which is basically Order of the Phoenix from Sirius’ POV. 

It might be weird to post the last bit of the final chapter of a fic, but it’s not like the end is a surprise to anyone. It can also be read as a standalone little ficlet if you just crave the sadness.

Angst and tears below the cut.

They arrived at the Ministry and everything was quiet. Much too quiet, as far as Sirius could tell. They hurried down through the hallway, past the fireplaces, and Sirius felt his heart pounding in his chest and all he could think was Harryharryharry. They stopped in front of the heavy, golden gates at the far end of the atrium. The night guard on duty looked both surprised and alarmed when the three Aurors, together with an escaped murderer and a werewolf (even though, Sirius supposed, he didn’t know Remus was a werewolf), suddenly appeared in the atrium.

“Excuse me,” the wizard said, trying to sound firm but Sirius could hear his voice waver. “I don’t know what you think you’re–“

“Where are they?” Mad-Eye demanded, magic eye swivelling like crazy as the other one was firm on the young wizard.

He looked terrified at the mere presence of Mad-Eye, a firm grip on his own wand. As if he’d have time to even raise it.

“Who? No-one’s here, I’ve been here all evening.” He asked, eyes wide, and Sirius could feel the young wizard’s eyes flickering over to him as he shook the gates. “Excuse me, I need to register your wand…”

Kingsley broke in, his strong voice both calm and firm.

“That won’t be necessary, Ewan. These two men are with us, we’re here on Auror business. We need to get through to the lifts.”

“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Shacklebolt,” the wizard stuttered, and he really did look regretful. “I-I can’t. The gates won’t open unless…you need to show your wands to gain entrance. It’s standard practice this late. And…” he stopped, glancing at Sirius and Remus for a moment before he exhaled in a rush, looking as if he wished he was anywhere but right there. “…there are no visitors allowed at this hour.”

“We don’t have time for this!” Sirius roared, and he wanted to crawl out of his own skin with panic.

Harry was here, somewhere in this building, and Merlin knew what was happening. Voldemort might be here. Voldemort might be here and Harry might be…he stopped himself quickly, feeling Moony’s hand on his shoulder, heavy.

“It’s okay, Padfoot,” Moony mumbled, tugging Sirius against him as Mad-Eye and the guard continued talking. “Kingsley’ll sort it out.”

He felt Moony’s heart beat against his chest, not quite as frantic as Sirius’ but not calm either. Sirius pressed his face against Moony’s neck and he didn’t care who saw it or what it looked like, he felt like he was being torn into pieces and Moony was the only thing keeping him together.

“I can’t lose him,” he said, voice breaking around the words as he pushed them out. “I can’t lose him, Moony, I promised Prongs–”

“You won’t,” Remus replied, firmly, a hand at the back of Sirius’ neck. “Just breathe, ok? You won’t lose him. We’ll get him out.”

Sirius wanted to believe him so much but the words died on his lips as he heard Tonk’s voice.

“Sirius, Remus, this way!”

Sirius wasn’t sure how they’d done it, but the gates were open. The young guard was standing to one side, looking as if he couldn’t decide if he should just let it happen or try and stop them, but he didn’t look too keen on that idea. In the end Kingsley gave him a pat on the arm as he hurried past.

“Raise the alarm. Get the Aurors on duty and tell them to alert the Minister. The Ministry is under attack.”

Sirius didn’t hear if the young wizard replied, he already had his sight set on the lift where Mad-Eye and Tonks were standing. He heard Moony and Kingsley on his tail and the three of them threw themselves into the lift before the doors slammed shut.

“Where are we going?” Remus asked, eyes on Moody whose eye was still swirling with sickening speed.

“I can’t see them,” Mad-Eye grunted. “Must be in the Department of Mysteries. The night guard had been confounded, he admitted he had left his desk but didn’t know why. I suspect that’s how they got in.”

The lift jerked into action, dropping down.

“Level nine, the Department of Mysteries,” the voice chimed cheerfully and they all but fell out as the doors opened.

Mad-Eye took the lead through the corridor, Sirius and Moony right behind him as Tonks and Shacklebolt brought up the rear. The door at the end of the hall swung open and they were suddenly standing in a big, dark room, facing a number of doors. Some of them had marks on them, others didn’t.

“Which one?” Sirius asked, his voice tinged with panic.

Harry was here, somewhere, and every second that Sirius couldn’t see him was agony. Mad-Eye was staring at the doors in front of them, a look of deep concentration on his face. Kingsley and Tonks were both moving around the room, running their hands over the doors and muttering words under the breaths. Sirius felt useless where he was standing, waiting.

He felt Remus next to him, reaching out to twist their fingers together, to ground himself as much as Remus. He felt Moony squeeze him back, lightly, and when he glanced to the side Moony gave him a faint sort of smile. Sirius smiled back, even though he wasn’t sure why, the surge of affection he felt for Moony momentarily subduing his panic. He wanted to tell Remus that, tell him how grateful he was that they were there, together, but then Mad-Eye called out.

“Over here! Lupin, Black - through this door. Rest of you, this way.”

Sirius felt Moony’s hand squeeze his, only briefly.

“Let’s go get Harry,” he said, a warmth to his voice that made Sirius’s chest tighten.

Moony’s hand slipped from his and for a second Sirius felt his heart stutter in panic, before he got himself under control again. Harry, he reminded himself as he hurried after Remus and through the door.

On the other side was a big, rectangular room. It was dark and there were stone steps around the walls that led down to the centre of the room. In the centre of it was a raised stone dais, and on top of it a stone archway. It didn’t seem as if it was connected to anything, the veil that hung from it fluttered slightly.

That was all Sirius had time to take in, before his eyes caught on Harry, cornered by a Death Eater who was raising his wand. Sirius threw himself forward, everything else forgotten. He saw Harry throw himself out of the way as a stunning spell, thrown by Tonks, narrowly missed the Death Eater who had been standing right in front of him. Sirius barely had time to check if he was okay before he darted forward, his mind racing through hexes and curses, his whole body surging with magic.

His heart was racing, but it wasn’t in the panicked and desperate way as it did when he was having a panic attack. This was different, this made him feel alive and his body worked on muscle memory. He hadn’t been in battle for years, hadn’t used his magic like this in just as long, but it came flooding back to him at once. He felt Moony beside him, the two of them advancing into the room in one direction while Kingsley, Tonks and Mad-Eye worked the other one.

He wasn’t sure how many Death Eaters there were, but they were definitely panicking now that the Order members had shown up. Sirius thought he saw Malfoy and Dolohov but then his eyes caught on his cousin, Bella’s dark hair and vicious voice cutting through the rest as she cried her spells. He felt a surge of anger, of rage that he hadn’t felt in so long, but before he could get to her there was someone else in the way. The mask had slipped slightly and he recognised Bella’s husband, Rodolphus.

“You,” he heard the other man growl and there was a flicker of surprise in his eyes as Sirius raised his wand, firing off a stunning spell that only missed narrowly.

Sirius didn’t have time to think after that, the battle with Lestrange was furious. His body twisted, turned, and he was firing off spells almost quicker than he could think them. He felt so strong, the magic exploding out of him as if he had finally given it free reign. He sent a body-binding spell flying that hit Rodolphus square in the chest, the man dropping off the ledge he was standing on and disappearing out of view.

Sirius barely had a chance to catch his breath before he whirled around, seeing the back of someone he thought was Dolohov. The man raised his wand, pointing it at Harry.

“Accio proph–“ was all he heard before Sirius threw himself forward, magic forgotten as he tackled the Death Eater to the ground.

They landed on top of each other but Sirius bounced back up immediately, stumbling backwards. Dolohov did the same, his own wand raised as he advanced on Sirius. Sirius rattled through every hex he could think of but Dolohov was fast. It was mayhem around them, hexes and curses thrown and deflected, and Sirius was momentarily distracted at the sight of Remus battling with another Death Eater behind Dolohov. He barely heard Harry’s shouted Protego but the shield charm slid in front of him and Dolohov’s curse was deflected and Sirius whirled around to face Harry.

“Good one,” he said, his breathing rapid as he closed the distance between them.

He heard someone move behind them, acting on instinct as he pushed Harry down, out of the way of the stunning spell that came flying towards them. He grabbed the boy’s arm, a little harder than necessary. He needed to get Harry out of here, quick.

“Now I want you to get out of–“

He didn’t have time to finish the sentence before he had to push Harry down again as a green jet of magic narrowly missed them. Harry was staring at something over his shoulder, white in the face, and Sirius turned to look just in time to see Tonks’ lifeless body fall from halfway up the stone steps, his cousin cackling madly above her.

The rage he felt was blinding. Bellatrix was already making her way down the stairs in pursuit of Tonks and Sirius was momentarily frozen. That’s your niece he thought, dazedly, before he managed to kick his body into gear again. He needed to get Harry out now.

“Harry, take the prophecy, grab Neville and run!” He bellowed, not looking to see if Harry did as he was told before he threw himself forward, after Bella.

He had to stop her. He had to stop her from hurting anyone else. She was his family, his blood, and he had to stop her. Sirius felt his insides burning. The hatred, not just towards Bellatrix but his whole despicable family, was like an open flame in his chest as he sent a stunning spell after his her, missing. I’m going to kill you, Sirius thought, frantically, images of their shared childhood flashing before his eyes.

He wasn’t aware of the fighting around them, he only had eyes for Bella as he closed in on her. He saw the moment she spotted him, her eyes widening only for a moment in surprise, before her lips curled in a cruel smirk that made her look hauntingly like his own mother.

“Oh hello, little cousin,” she said, gleefully, her wand dancing in front of her as she aimed a hex at him.

Sirius deflected it with a flick of his wand, a desperate edge to his own movement as he sent a stunning spell towards her that she stopped with a move of her hand.

“Bella,” Sirius panted, and his voice was surprisingly calm, if a little breathless. “Long time, no see. You look like shit, Azkaban a bit rough?”

Bella sneered, her wand moving effortlessly in front of her, and Sirius focused on protecting himself. His time would come, he knew it, she would make a mistake.

“Could say the same about you, Sirius,” her voice rang over the noise of the others.

She threw a hex at him, a blue jet of light that missed him by barely an inch and Sirius felt his heart stutter. Close.

“Is this really how to welcome your long lost cousin, Bella? I thought you and your friends,” he sneered, moving out of the way of another curse “– didn’t want to waste any of our magical pure blood.”

Bella laughed too, a mad sort of cackle that jarred against Sirius’s ears.

“I’ll make an exception for you, little cousin.”

Sirius grinned, sharp and hard.

“I’m flattered. Really.”

Sirius kept his eyes glued on her. He was well aware that there was fighting going on around them and he could only pray that Harry had actually managed to get himself and Neville out of there, but he couldn’t afford to check. He stared at Bella, their eyes locked, both of them pointing their wands at each other as they moved.

Sirius wasn’t scared, not exactly. His heart was pounding, adrenaline and magic surging through him, and he felt focused. Awake. Alive. More so than he had done since before Azkaban. He moved slowly, attention only on Bellatrix and her gleaming eyes, her twisted grin.

“Thought you’d learnt by now,” she said, her voice a hiss but he had no trouble hearing her over the commotion. “That you can’t beat me, cousin.”

Sirius laughed, even if it sounded forced in his own ears. He ignored her, continued to move in a circle and Bella did the same.

“She’s your niece,” Sirius said instead. “The girl you just cursed. She’s Andie’s daughter.”

There was something in Bella’s eyes then, a flicker, a twitch to the corner of her mouth but it was so quick that Sirius wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it. The mad glint in Bella’s eyes were back, her teeth bared in a snarl.

“A blood-traitor,” Bella cried, voice echoing. “A filthy little mudblood that my blood-traitor sister–“

“Confringo,” Sirius shouted, blood roaring in his ears as he felt anger lick up his spine.

How dared she? How dared she talk about Andie like that? Bella deflected the curse, making it hit the stone steps behind her and they exploded, pebbles raining down on them. She threw a curse back at him but he didn’t see which one, the shield charm slotting into place just in time to deflect it slightly, the force of it making his skin prickle.

He felt adrenaline, anger and magic course through his body. He laughed at her, the one thing he knew always drove her mad.

“Oh Bella, seems like you’ve lost your touch.”

“Crucio,” she shrieked, the red streak of magic hurling towards him but Sirius danced to the side.

“Ah, so close,” he goaded her, taunting, sending another hex in her direction that she ducked out of the way from.

“You,” she sneered as they circled each other again, both with their wands at the ready. “Were always an embarrassment. You drew dishonour onto our family. I’m ashamed you were ever a part of us.”

Sirius laughed, loud and hard, as he jumped out of the way of another cruciatus curse aimed his way.

“Oh, trust me, Bella. That feeling is very much mutual.”

He aimed a stunning curse at her which missed, narrowly, and Sirius was dimly aware of the fact that it had gone strangely quiet around them. He didn’t dare look around though, he knew a slip in focus could mean the end. He deflected another curse, sending it crashing into the wall behind him.

“Reg was twice the wizard you have ever been,” Bella hissed, viciously, and another red jet of light came hurling towards him that Sirius barely had time to deflect.

He felt his mind reel at the words, Reggie’s name always throwing him, the anger and hurt like a stab to his gut. He knew she was only trying to rile him up, get a reaction from him, so he forced his face back into a grin, pushed the laugh over his lips even if it rang false in his ears.

“C’mon,” he jeered instead. “You can do better than that!”

The force with which the next curse hit him was a surprise. He hadn’t seen her raise her wand again and his shield charm was weaker than it should’ve been, her stunning spell easily shattering it. The thought of Reggie enough of a distraction to make his focus slip just a fraction.

He could feel himself fall, as if in slow-motion, and the pain of whatever curse she had used didn’t register. His gaze moved around the room and he saw Harry throwing himself down the stairs towards him, Dumbledore (when had Dumbledore arrived? Sirius didn’t know) looking down at him from the stone steps. And Remus. Remus by the edge of the dais, his arms hanging limply by his sides, green eyes flecked with gold in the faint light coming from the stone archway that was right behind Sirius, and his face twisted in shock.

Sirius didn’t know for long he fell. It felt like an eternity, and he was unable to look away from Remus’s eyes. Sirius had heard, somewhere, that before you died your life flashed before your eyes, but all Sirius could see was Moony.

Moony as a nervous 11-year-old after the sorting. As a grumpy 13-year-old in the hospital wing after the full moon. The expression on his face when he, Prongs and Pete had told him about them becoming Animagi. Moony on the full moon. He saw them running through the forbidden forest, the wolf first and Padfoot on his tail. He saw Moony after their first kiss, face flushed and eyes shining as he’d looked at Sirius. Moony asleep in the bed in their shared flat. Moony curled up on the couch with a book and a cigarette hanging between his lips.

It’s okay, he wanted to say when he saw the look in Remus's eyes. I’m okay, it doesn’t even hurt. I love you.

He thought he moved his lips but he wasn’t sure, he didn’t hear his own voice. He saw Harry throwing himself onto the dais, Remus’s arms wrapping around the boy to hold him back even as he tried to get loose, but Moony wouldn’t let him. Sirius could see the panic in Harry’s eyes. James, I'm sorry, he thought, numbly. I tried. I really tried but Moony will take it from here and he’s so much better at this than I ever was. I’m really sorry, Prongs, but I think I’m coming to see you now.

And then there was nothing.

[joeys-piano]

Like Salt Where It Hurts

Tomarry | Teen | 3.7k+

A/N: This is my contribution for the Tomarrymort Secret Santa Exchange on Twitter, where I was prompted to write the following: "Just generally cold/distant/dangerous to anyone, but Harry; Tom with cute Harry."

Being "the king of cuddling fics," I took the spirit of that prompt and ran with what I do best. Immersive introspection and a bit of my own personal twist~

Summary

‘Harry—Harry, Harry, Harryharryharry…’ When Tom shifted, I felt the whole of him meeting me somewhere up my back. Until gravity found it funny and now, he’s slouching along with me. And cascading to my shoulders and even past them had he wanted, but he doesn’t.

He wouldn’t. He’s exactly where he wanted: like a serpent within the leaves or the antlers of a tree, sprawled at its finest for there was nowhere it’d rather be. And then he flicked for my attention, then he nuzzled into my neck, and then that weight of adoration began to saunter through a tilt.

Tom looked to me as an answer, and I looked at him like he was trouble. That if he wanted me for any reason—if he wanted me to waver—then his best bet to remember is who’s the hunted and who’s the hunter. Because the mouse upon my shoulder needs to settle before I let him: let him kiss me, hold me and love me before breakfast.

If you want to have a staring contest, Harry found his without trouble when a pair of dark, lovely eyes consumed him—bit by bit, Be prepared, Little One. You’ll forfeit before I’m ready.

Read More | Kofi Support!

[itsnsfwalways]

tease

word count: 4.8k

description: where y/n has a little too much fun teasing harry on the dance floor.

warnings: daddy kink, slight mean dom! h, bdsm, smut, choking, collars, slight exhibition, humiliation, spitting, degradation, pet names, literally just pure filth

—————————

You knew what you were doing. The extra hair shakes, body rolls, and lip bites dancing with your friends were unnecessary, and caused Harry to have to fix his pants multiple times while he watched you.

The last straw for Harry came when you began touching yourself over your dress, nipples poking through the expensive fabric. Harry knew you were enjoying the attention a bit too much, the little exhibitionist.

During a break between songs where you and your friends come back to the table for water, Harry pulled you into his lap, arm wrapping around you tightly. His lips go to your ear, nipping the lobe lightly before whispering,

"No talking once we leave here. When we get home you are to immediately go to the bedroom, strip, and wait."

Your heart stops for a second, before nodding adamantly and shakily inhaling. Harry takes notice of the way her hands tremble the next time she reaches for her glass, and he smirks. She has no idea what is in store for her.

You didn’t even want to be here at this point. Harry looked too fucking edible tonight. He chose to wear a deep royal blue fitted suit with white boots for no reason other than to make you sweat even more than he normally does. The way he’s sitting in the booth, conversing lightly with your friends’ partners and his security, but constantly having an eye on you. How he spreads his legs at all times wide enough so you’re able to slip between them whenever you want. How his hair has been growing out and it’s the perfect length to gather between your fingers and yank.

Finally, you are able to make a hasty goodbye, faking an early morning. You make a point to hug all of your friends, before finally making it back to Harry’s car.

Remembering the rules, your lips stay sealed. Your mind can’t help but wander so your fingers start picking at the ends of your dress before Harry notices, grabs one in his hand, and kisses a knuckle lightly. His thumb rubs the back of your hand, knowing that it’s been a while since you last did a scene and you’re a little nervous. His hand remains holding yours as you begin the drive back home, easily calming your anxiety.

Harry parks in the driveway and gets out of the car, coming around to your door.

“Shocker you could even remember to let me open your door, pet. Doesn’t seem like you care too much for your rules.” Harry tuts.

You swallow, nails digging into your palms to keep you from apologizing.

He takes your hand in his, delicately helping you out of the car. Guiding you with a hand on your low back to the front door, he pushes you in front of him lightly when he notices you shiver from the night air.

As soon as he unlocks the door, you take off your shoes, place them in the shoe rack by the door, and walk quickly into the bedroom.

Your mind still going a million miles a minute, you go the bathroom before stripping of your clothes and putting them in the hamper, making a mental note to do laundry tomorrow.

Kneeling at the foot of the bed, your legs can’t help but tremble with excitement and nerves, a pool already forming between your legs. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of what he is about to do to you.

About ten minutes go by before you hear the click of the door and you quickly try to fix any mistakes that you may have made in your posture while waiting for Harry. Keeping your head down, your hair flowing over your face, you hear footsteps approach the middle of the room.

Harry circles you a few times, before grasping your chin between his fingers and pulling your face up to look him in the eyes, a gasp emitting from your lips.

Your eyes are already so glassy and doll-like, cheeks flushed, lips bitten red and just asking to be touched. Harry can't resist lovingly tucking a strand of hair behind your ears and giving you a short, sweet kiss on the lips before squeezing lightly on the chin still in his grasp.

"Do you know why you are in this position?"

You gulp and nod, remembering Harry‘s rule.

"Good girl. You may speak," Harry says, the praise making your stomach tighten and legs twitch.

"Thank you, Sir. I was being overly sexual and touching myself in public, Sir," You mewl out, incredibly turned on by the power exchange.

"Yeah, you were, weren't you?" Harry coos, voice mocking you and dripping with sarcasm. “Always have to have all eyes on you, have to have all the attention.”

Harry takes your chin and makes you nod your head exaggeratively at his words, mouth parting open as you stare directly in his eyes.

You can’t even breathe at this point. You had to be dripping onto the floor, but you can’t even focus on that right now. All you feel is harryharryharry.

His fingers move from your chin down to your throat, squeezing ever so lightly. Snapping out of it, you realize you never answered his question.

"Y-yes, Sir. I love the attention," You fumble out, the pressure on you throat making you almost dizzy with need.

“Do I not give you enough?” Harry asks, looking you directly in your eyes as he says this.

Your heart breaks a little at the look on his face and whimper out, “No, no, give me so much attention.”

“What? You just want more? You’re just a little slut who can never have enough, huh?” Harry says, hand leaving your throat and striking across your face once, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp. The sting that lingers is deliciously warm. The pink handprint contrasts your skin for just a moment and you almost moan at the thought.

“Yes, Daddy, I’m your little slut.”

Harry’s eyes close at this, teeth biting his lower lips as he exhales sharply. Fuck, how does he deserve this. His cock twitches and he lightly moves a hand down to squeeze it slightly, catching your eyes following him.

He squats down, the contrast of his full suit and muscular body to your small frame making your head spin. “I think you’ve forgotten just who the fuck you’re dating, Y/N.”

His right hand grabs your cheeks, rings scratching your jaw lightly, before squishing them together. Taking the hint, you open up your mouth, sticking your tongue out as he spits directly onto it.

Your eyes slip close, head tilting back lightly. Yes, yes, yes, this is exactly what you needed. To be disrespected and treated like a doll, to be used like this. Your pussy clenched around nothing, hips fighting against grinding on the floor.

Harry catches onto this, laughing at you.

“Oh, puppy. Are you really that worked up over me spitting on you?” He questions, laughing. The humiliation colors your face pink before he lets your cheeks go, leaving his thumb resting on your bottom lip. Pushing down lightly, he leans forward slightly over you, keeping that pretty red mouth open and waiting for him.

A long line of spit falls the short distance from his mouth into yours, this time a whimper escapes you as soon as you feel it pool onto your tongue. He was giving you himself, he was giving you everything you needed.

This time, your hips do buck up, but Harry puts a stop to that immediately. In a matter of seconds, his hips are pinned to yours on the rug, your wrists locked above his head in one of his hands while the other continues to touch your mouth.

His thumb plays with your bottom row of teeth, lightly tracing them, before hooking onto your jaw and pulling you closer up to him.

He presses a teasing kiss to your panting mouth, whispering,

“I don’t know if you deserve my cock, Y/N. You were a nasty thing out there tonight, would’ve let anyone get behind you and have their way with you.” This was a lie. Harry would be damned if he didn’t fuck you tonight, and you knew this. But god did it make it so much hotter when he talked to you like this.

“No, Daddy, all yours, I’m yours, please,” You beg, trying to lean in to kiss him.

Harry places his thumb back in your mouth and pushes down slightly on your tongue, gagging you. Your eyes water as you try and suppress it and suck his thumb deeper into your mouth.

He has a look on his eyes you’ve only seen Daddy have, a look that shakes you down to the very core of your being. He’s mad.

“You will take what I give you. Filthy fucking slut always getting her way. On the bed, head on the pillows, arms above your head and legs splayed out," he commands. You scramble off the ground to get into the position he wanted on the plush bed.

Harry had to remind himself to breathe in situations like this. Not because he was really that angry about you showing off or trying to kiss him, obviously he loved the attention as well and you both knew it was just to set the other person off. But because of how ethereal you looked. Hair splayed out on the pillow, miles and miles of beautiful bare skin, completely open and vulnerable and his to use. That power trip made his head spin almost as much as yours did.

Stripping himself of his suit, he leaves his white tank top and black briefs on, silver cross necklace dangling between his swallows. Grabbing some velcro straps, handcuffs, and one of his ties, just in case, he makes his way over to you.

“Are you going to listen to me, pet? I’d hate for you to not be able to touch me,” Harry fake pouts, laughing at you when you push your hands and feet deeper into then mattress. Sliding himself between your legs, he leaves a few inches of space between your aching clit and his bulge, your head falling back as you realize what’s about to happen.

Harry lightly moves his fingers down your chest, watching your breathing pick up. Goosebumps follow his movements, but you try your best to fight against arching your back into him. One hand finds a nipple and lightly teases the bud, playing with it using an index finger while his other scratches up and down your sides lightly.

"Because of that little stunt of yours, I think you deserve to be teased, don't you?" Harry rhetorically asks, pinching your nipple harshly at the last words.

You moan out and buck your hips before you’re able to spit out,

"Yes, Sir, whatever you think."

"I quite like the sound of that, whatever I think. Who's in charge here, darling? Why don’t you remind Daddy?"

He stares you directly in the eyes while saying this, a mocking confused look on his face.

“Y-You are, Daddy, you’re always in charge."

“Mm. That’s right. So you’re not just a dumb little plaything after all.”

Not even giving you time to think, Harry slips two fingers into your open mouth, allowing you to start going to work on wetting his fingers.

While you calmed down sucking on his fingers, Harry could barely fucking look at you. Licking his two fingers like your life depended on it, gagging and not even allowing yourself time to breathe before continuing on wetting them. He tests this theory, waiting for you to take a breath in before pinching your nose and pushing down ever so lightly on your tongue with his two fingers. Holding his breath in time with you, he slowly counts to five in his head before releasing your nose and pulling his fingers out of your mouth, allowing you to lick up the line of spit hanging between the two.

“Fuck, so good for me. There’s my doll.”

Gasping and eyes watering, your head chases his fingers for a second before his other hand grabs you by the throat and pushes you into the mattress. His fingers wrap around it almost completely, and you can feel him shaking with need. Eyes rolling into the back of your head as you swallow against him, he smacks you lightly to bring you back.

“Eyes up here. Don’t make me remind you again.”

Removing his hand, he trails down your stomach, scratching lightly on the sensitive skin. When he reaches your inner thigh, he pulls back his hand and slaps the skin, a loud noise filling the room.

Y/N chokes on a gasp and whimpers out,

“Collar, please, collar."

Harry smirks and removes his hand, going through their bag again and coming out with a thick leather collar, a strap attached to it.

Clipping it on the squirming submissive, he slides two fingers into the ring and tugs harshly, thriving off of the angelic noises emanating from his girl.

“‘S that better, puppy? Need to feel owned, huh?” He coos, tightening the leather around your neck.

“Yes, sir,” You exhale, swallowing thickly to feel the pressure against your throat.

“Thought so.” He whispered, letting go of the collar and moving to sit between your legs.

Your breath hitches as he starts lying kisses against your ribs.

“You better keep your hands and legs where they are, Y/N. Don’t make me have to keep you tied up.”

His words are in one ear out the other at this point, attention focusing on the way his lips move when he talks, how his rings send shivers up your thighs and directly into your core.

Harry scoots downwards on the bed, breath fanning against you as you force yourself not to buck up.

“Fuck, baby, you’re absolutely dripping,” Harry groans, tongue ever so lightly poking out to taste you.

“Please Daddy, please, please, I’ll be so good,” You cry out, just wanting to feel him.

He grins up at you, pressing a kiss lightly to the side of your lips, moving outwards to suck a bruise into the juncture of your hip and thigh.

A groan of frustration leaves you as your legs start shaking, clenching around nothing and barely breathing at this point.

A smack against your right ass cheek forces you to inhale, focusing on Harry once more.

“None of that. Tell me, who is in charge?”

“You are.” Another smack lands on you, same placement as before.

“Who decides what you receive?”

“You do, Daddy.” Another. This time on your left side, a whimper escaping as you arch your back into it.

"Your safewords are?"

You are quick to respond, spitting out,

"Red to stop, yellow to slow down, green is good."

"What's your color?"

"Green, so green, please, Daddy, please," you blubber, making Harry shush you softly.

Harry leans forward this time, fingers going into the D ring again. Leaning directly over you, hair falling into your eyes, he whispers, “Who’s my little fucktoy?”

“Fuck, Daddy, I am. Please. I’ll be such a good girl.”

“You will, won’t you? Because Daddy just likes to give in to whatever his babygirl wants, yeah? No, not tonight, baby.”

He gets off of you all of a sudden, standing up and going to sit in the large leather chair in the corner of the room.

You lay there dumbfounded until he says, “Well? Come here and kneel in front of me.”

Rolling off the bed on shaky legs, you crawl over to him, and god help him if that image ever left his mind.

You sit between his legs, hands neatly folded in your lap as you stare directly at his crotch, the outline of him very present.

“Up.” Harry commands, and your eyes snap to his face uncontrollably, your body seeming to answer faster than your brain could.

“Aren’t you just a pretty little puppy? Crawling over to come help your Daddy out, hmm?”

He leans forward, and you think he’s about to kiss you before you feel his spit land on your cheek.

His fingers move the saliva into your mouth, eyes locked on yours as he says, “Well go on, get me out.”

You whimper softly before trailing your hands along his happy trail, snapping the waistband against his skin lightly, before grabbing onto the briefs a and pulling them down his legs. Your mouth drops automatically as his cock pops up and slaps him in the stomach.

Harry had the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen. Not only was it fucking huge, it was so thick, filled you up to the point where you could see him through your stomach, and fuck did that turn the both of you on. His mushroom tip was a bright red, slightly damp with his precum, and the few veins you loved to lick already popping up.

You looked up at him again, hands massaging his thighs as you asked,

“Can I please suck you off, Daddy?”

“That’s all your good for isn’t it? Let me use that pretty mouth, doll face.”

Your tongue falls out immediately, licking the underside of his head, before taking the tip in your mouth and lightly suckling on it, eyes glued to Harry’s.

“Fuck, princess. Go on, get me all nice and wet for you.”

Your tongue immediately starts to lick him from base to tip, making sure to point your tongue and follow along the bulging veins going up his shaft. You spend extra time giving him the lightest of kitten licks at his top, knowing how mad that drove him.

“Fucking hell, baby. God, Y/N, so fucking good for me,” Harry groans, head leaning back against the chair for support.

His hips start to lightly buck up until your mouth, and you reach your nails up to scratch his laurels, knowing that little bite of pain was only adding fuel to the fire.

He takes your hair in his fist, wrapping it around his knuckles once before pulling you down onto his cock, the gagging noise you made making him that much harder.

“What a good little slut,” He groans, punctuating his words with a thrust into your mouth.

“Arms back,” He orders, and you immediately put your arms behind your back, wrists grabbing your elbows.

You hollow out your cheekbones and Harry just about dies in his chair, hand reaching up to squish your cheeks together even more, feeling himself in your mouth from the outside.

He lets out a guttural moan, the sound going straight to your clit. Your hips buck up to try and get some friction, and Harry notices immediately, pulling you off him. Letting out large pants, you lean forward, eager to have him back in your mouth, but a quick slap to the face stuns you for a few seconds, slightly slipping into that fuzzy space you sometimes get to.

“None of that. Yes?”

“Yes, yes sir, please let me have you, please,” You gasp out spit dripping from your mouth onto your thighs, eyes red rimmed and tear tracks running down your face.

Harry can’t say no to you looking like that. He feeds his tip back to you lightly, only allowing you to take half of him in your mouth.

“Eyes up.” He pauses to wait for you to look at him, a whimper from you sending vibrations through his cock.

“Aren’t you just a gorgeous little puppy for me, hmm? Doing just what Daddy tells her to.”

You whimper loudly around him, thighs shaking as your pussy clenches around nothing.

“Fuck,” Harry laughs. “Are you that desperate to cum that you could get off just from me talking to you?”

You look up at him and nod, knowing he has before.

Before you can even think, Harry has picked you up and sat you on his lap with your back facing him, his cock rubbing against your folds.

“Fuck,” Harry drawls our, “You’re dripping, baby. What a good girl you’ve been so far, letting Daddy do what he wants.”

You can’t help but try and grind against him, head falling onto his chest as you cry out,

“Please Daddy, please fuck me. I’ve been so good, please.”

He reaches an arm around and brings a hand to your throat, holding your neck against him, while the other goes around and splays his hand on your stomach, pinning you to his chest.

This was one of Harry’s favorite positions. You couldn’t do anything but just take what he was giving you, completely give yourself up to him and let him use you.

“Have you? I don’t know about that, moppet.” His left arm trails down your stomach before going down and beginning to lightly play with your clit, tracing the lightest of circles directly on top of it.

“Fuck, thank you daddy, thank you, thank you.” He gasp out, arms gripping the edges of the chair.

He moves his middle finger down to dip into you slightly, collecting your moisture on the tip of his finger and pulling it up to his mouth, licking it clean off. He tilts your head to the side, giving you a filthy open mouthed kiss, all tongue and heavy breathing, Harry feeling as if he’s fucking you with his mouth right now.

All of a sudden, he pinches your clit harshly, a shocked gasp escaping you as he begins rubbing quickly, legs immediately starting to quiver on top of him.

Pulling your neck back farther, he growls into your ear,

“If you want me to even touch you for the rest of the night, you will cum right now. Right fucking now. Cum on my fucking fingers.”

A high pitched moan leaves you as you hopelessly grind down on him, cumming as soon as he says the word. Your chest heaves as he works you through your orgasm.

“There’s my good little slut. Finally following orders, huh?” Harry gasps out, thighs flexing with restraint.

“Yes, sir,” You cry out, feeling his tip press against your entrance.

He lifts you up by your hips before slamming you down onto him, taking him to the hilt.

“Fuck!” You scream, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you immediately start rocking your hips back and forth, the pressure on your clit almost unbearable.

Harry moves his hand from your throat onto the D ring, fingering the loop and pulling it in time with his thrusts, the pressure making your head swarm and feel as if you’re in a dream.

“Needy girl,” he grits into your ear, fucking up into you at a slow, steady pace.

“Only for you, Daddy,” you cry, turning your head to the side to suck a mark into Harry’s neck.

You feel the vibrations from his moan against your tongue and you whimper slightly, his thrusts starting to fill you up more and more.

“You’re so tight for me, fuck, puppy, all for me, yeah?”

“All for you, God you’re so big,” You moan out, keeping your face in his neck to focus on breathing.

His cock fits so snugly inside of you, it truly feels as if you were made for each other. With another thrust, he hits a spot inside of you the two of you are far too familiar with, a sharp cry ripping itself from your vocal chords as he begins mercilessly fucking up into you.

Pulling the ring forward, Harry forces your eyes to the ceiling, other hand reaching down to rub your clit.

“I’ll show you what a little attention whore deserves. I’ll treat you like the dirty slut you are, only here to please ME, aren’t you? I’m the only one who gets to touch you like this, who gets to fuck you like this, til you’re just a dumb little puppy.”

You begin to thrash on him, shaking with the need to come that he releases his grip on your throat to hold you in place against him. In doing so, he presses on your stomach and you scream, crying out and vision going black for a second.

“Fuck, you like that, baby? That I’m so deep inside you can feel me in your little tummy. Reminds you that you’re my cum slut, just wants to be filled by her Daddy.”

“Daddy, please,” You gasp out, hands going around to wrap around his neck, whole body shaking.

“Please can I cum, please, please,” You gasp, unable to do anything but have a vice grip on him while you try not to come.

Harry leans down and bites on your neck, groaning loudly right on your pulse point as he fucks faster into you, hitting your G-spot every single time.

“You’re so fucking tight around me, goddamn babygirl, fuck, cum. Cum right now.”

He slaps your clit harshly, left hand going back to tighten around your throat, tilting your head up and spitting into your mouth. The majority of it ends up on your cheek and you cum.

Fuck, do you cum. Your body feels like it’s not even yours at this point, pleasure flooding every single particle in your body, mind going blank as you loll your head back onto his chest. Your legs shake so much you feel as if you are vibrating head to toe, tits bouncing freely and the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room.

Harry has never seen you like this, grinding so quickly on his cock, throat tilted back making the most primal of sounds.

He pistons his hips and cums shortly after you, releasing a deep groan into your ear.

Your body goes limp around him, but continuing to clench around him, tiny gasps coming from your parted lips.

Harry pulls his head off the back of the chair and grabs your face to get a good look at you.

Hair messy, mascara everywhere, eyes rolled into the back of your head with spit covering your chin, you looked like an angel.

“Fuck, princess,” Harry moans, thrusting lightly inside of you.

You whimper lightly at his movement and he takes the hint, pulling out. Turning you around to face him, he lifts you up and places you softly on the bed, a cool towel already on the nightstand ready.

He takes his time wiping you down, starting at your face and making his way to your aching pussy, lightly patting the area.

He glances up at your facial expressions, and upon seeing a blissful smile, licks into you, tongue gliding against your walls.

Harry tastes himself on you and groans into you, taking his time making you cum once more, before coming to lay down next to you, wiping his face off.

“What a good girl you were, so good for me, weren’t you Y/N?” He whispers, lightly stroking your cheek with the back of his hand.

This was the closest thing to heaven you were ever going to get. You felt like you were on cloud nine, body buzzing with adrenaline and brain feeling like mush. Harry was so good at taking care of you in this state, and that made you want to come to more than anything else.

While Harry lightly kisses your parted lips, cheeks, and forehead, your head nuzzles into his hand, eyes fluttering a little bit.

“Hi sweet girl,” He smiles, eyes full of nothing but adoration and love. He idolized you. He worshipped

you.

“Hi Daddy,” you mumble, pursing your lips for a kiss.

He happily obliges, kissing you very sweetly, knowing you were very sensitive right now.

“Do you need anything? Wanna take a nice warm bath, baby?” Harry asks, nuzzling his nose with yours, his playfulness causing you to finally open your eyes fully.

“Hug?” you mumble, and Harry let’s out all of his air at your simple question.

“Of course, little one. C’mere, we’ll have a nice long snuggle and then we go pee and clean up.”

He pulls you under the covers with him, wrapping his arms fully around you so you’re being pushed against his chest, his head resting on yours.

You kiss lightly along his neck, just trying to calm down from what just happened.

“How you feeling, lover? Awfully quiet in m’ arms,” Harry questions, kissing the top of your head and adjusting you to look up at him.

“So good. Just a lot. I’m sorry for doing that tonight. Just wanted you.” You mumble, fingers playing with your hair.

“Hey, none of that, it’s okay Y/N. I was trying to rile you up too. Why’d I wear one of my suits out on a night off?”

Your nose scrunches and you bite his pec lightly, Harry releases a loud laugh at this.

The two of you lay there just holding each other for quite a bit before you mumble out,

“Bath time?”

Harry smiles at you, kissing your forehead for a few seconds.

“‘Course. Let’s go hop in.”

—————

A/N ahhhhh okay hi i’m lana this is my first tumblr smut kinda thing, i hope you like it !!! i’m super new to this so please be patient, but i’d love some requests !!! long fics, one shots, blurbs, i’m down for it all. also love mgg, criminal minds, and a whole lotta other fandoms so i’m opening to writing those too.

[bluewinnerangel]

Too Young lyric breakdown (and some more)

A while ago (IM SORRY ANON) I was asked to do an analysis of Louis' Too Young and this has been in my drafts for a while as I just couldn't find a way to be completely content with it, but I don't think I'll ever be for this one so maybe it's best to just let it roam free and share.

Generally I try not to make their songs about eachother automatically and solely based on Louis & Harry are together and this is about love so the only option is that this is about eachother and there's nothing else to consider. I just think that's too easy, loads of songs have romantic personifications of non-romantic subjects, songs can simply just not be autobiographical, etc.

That said, I would be having to do some brain twisterfries exercise to make Too Young about anything other than Louis and Harry being too young to know they had everything (I mean, I could make this about the band as a whole if I tried, but that's about it. And that's purely because I think that's what Niall did with This Town and So Long which has some great Too Young parallels, explained here). And I do feel like there are some things hinting at this, not so much with the lyrics itsself but with what he's said the song is about. So yes, I'm not gonna analyse this in a he's got a special someone when he was young kinda safe way, I'm sorry, this time there's no subtlety, there's just Harry. It was Harry. It is Harry. It was always Harry. Harryharryharry. Let's get into it:

~~putting in a cut because of course this is gonna be too long not to~~

(un?)fortunately this song isn't as deep and spiral-worthy as some of the other lyric analyses I've done (I'll link some below), but one thing that seperates Louis' songs from 1Ds/Harry's is that Louis has been abundantly clear what this song is about, and that's something really interesting to uh read into along with the lyrics:

I can remember that feeling of being 18 and meeting the person that you might spend the rest of your life with. We all made mistakes when we’re younger, and I just wanted to capture that idea of true honesty. Look, I wasn’t ready for that responsibility. And now I reflect, and I’m older, and I can look back with experience. I can see why that was wrong. But at the time, there’s a lot of 18-year-olds—especially 18-year-old lads—they’re not ready for that responsibility. I wanted to capture that.

— Louis for Apple Music

“Too Young" is about meeting ‘the one’ aged 18 and, like a lot of blokes that age, not being equipped for it, I found it hard to look that far ahead. I had to make a few mistakes and go down the wrong path to realise what I had and what I thought I’d lost.

— Louis for Crash Records

Quite a simple song really, again didn't need too much production, and conceptually, it's one- it's eh- I wrote it from the point of view of how much of responsibility you can have at a young age of potentionally meeting you know tHe GirL that you're gonna be spending the rest of your life with and that's a heavy responsibility you know for any age and especially you know trying to deal with that at 18 and understanding that and being mature enough to deal with that, ehm, so yeah kind of just conceptualize that and put it into the song, this was one of those sessions I would comfortably say this song took the longest, ehm, the song itself was written relatively quickly but some producers like to work very very meticulously you know what I mean this was one of those sessions I was definitely there all day but well worth it, decent tune.

— Louis on the Track by Track on his YT

There is so much to gain from the things he says, how he words things, and what's between the lines if you pay close enough attention. I do believe Louis has shown time and time again he's very sneaky and subtle with things, and although sometimes he's straight(pun intended) up lying, most of the times he's right there playing dumb in that fine line double entendre middleground of plausible deniability.

First see how he really really needs wants has to focus on mentioning "18" every time? Just sneaking it in every damn time? What's so important about 18? "He obviously just met the love of his life at 18 don't be silly he's not thinking about how people might interpret that" I mean yes he obviously did meet sOmEoNe at 18 but he clearly has a story ready here and "namedropping" 18 is a part of it. "18" isn't relevant to understanding the too young story, he could have said when he was just a little boy teen when they were young. He wants us to know about 18. So why is he doing this? Some things we can relate 18 to: We know he was 18 when he went on the X-factor, when everything started. We know he was 18 when he met Harry too. We know there's a song "18" that is a big ol' larry too (whenever I think "18" hear Harry yelling "16" somewhere in a little drawer in the corner of my brain) We know he wasn't publicly dating eleanor until he was 19, almost 20 too. But he's clever about it, he goes for "meet" and not "be together with" every time, he's carefully choosing his words here. It's not a fuck up, he's being smart. Plausible deniability at its finest.

Then in the first 2 quotes, he's clearly saying this is about him, that it's autobiographical. But then in the 3rd explanation he doesn't, he describes it as a concept. Now let the 3rd quote also be the only one where he drops a gender: "girl", and in the other two he doesn't. How Incredibly Unfortunate For Him That Is. But it gets worse. What he does do in the other two is mention dudes in plural. In both. Yes "but he just means that-" yes but sneaky. lil. shit. behavior. We're just too young lads chilling in a glass half empty 5 feet apart cuz blokes not gay. Just saying, just carefully look at what he does and doesn't say.

Anyway onto the lyrics:

We were too young to know we had everything

Too young, I wish I could've seen it all along

I’m sorry that I hurt you, darling, no, oh

We were too young

This speaks for itself, and the things that don't get clarified in the verses

I've been looking back a lot lately

Me and you is all I've ever known

Again this is pretty self-explanatory, "me and you is all I've ever known" is just really damn funny, like ok sure just let go of that public narrative, idk who douis(? was it douis?) is either, sure.

It’s hard to think you could ever hate me

Ok so whenever I can't place a line I like to go through their other songs and see if I can find some hint of intent that there's some kinda tying songs together going on. Here that's pretty hard to do because it's generic AF but still I'll try, literally all the "hate":

"You're a nightmare on the dance floor, And you hate me, and I want more" - Kill My Mind

"And I know you hate to smoke without me and, oh, Now you know, I'm wasting my time when it was always you" - Always You

"Wish I didn't need so much of you, I hate to say but I do" - Defenceless.

Also: Harry: "You've got my devotion, But man, I can hate you sometimes" - Fine Line (I think this is about the music industry but ok)

Also: One Direction: "You say, you say to everybody that you hate me" - Still The One (STILL THE ONE! STILL. THE. ONE!).

I mean maybe that last one but pff that didn't do much.

I've also seen the explanation that this is about their public images, that publicly it's speculated their friendship is ruined, that they "hate" eachother since they were basically ignoring eachother in public.

But everything's feeling different now

Then that makes sense too, that's not the case anymore since.. they're not seen in public anymore.

Oh, I can't believe I gave in to the pressure

When they said a love like this would never last

So I cut you off 'cause I didn't know no better

Now I realize, yeah, I realize

This is just heartbreaking. It's right there, there's no way around this. People pressured him, told him to give up on their love, to let go, not just that, a love like that. This is NOT about any openly celebrated heterosexual relationship. I'm really trying to write this without making it an angry closetingisbad spewing fire larrie kinda thing but what else am I supposed to do here? He lays it all out, he was pressured, told just give up because whatever you two have going on isn't gonna last so just save us all some stress and just give up, probably over and over again to the point where he started believing in it, or seeing no other option but to cave and cut him off.

Face to face at the kitchen table

... is he just dropping kitchens and tables because From The Dining Table and "kiss in the kitchen like it's a dancefloor / kids in the kitchen listen to dancehall" - Sunflower Vol 6? lol

EDIT: I don't know why I brushed over that that easily while knowing the Sunflower vol 6/Two Ghosts parallels and just not taking the time to look at it for more than half a second.... So there's this parallel in Sunflower Vol 6 and Two Ghosts about kitchens and being tongue-tied, and in Two Ghosts it's sad sad sad, Two Ghosts is at the I've-cut-you-off point...

(@ialwaysknewyouwerepunk describes these parallels and why they're there well in this Sunflower Vol 6 analysis)

But here I want to compare Too Young and Two Ghosts:

Two Ghosts:

The fridge light washes this room white Moon dances over your good side And this was all we used to need Tongue-tied like we've never known Telling those stories we already told 'Cause we don't say what we really mean

Where Harry takes Two Ghosts point in time and writes around it, flips it on its head in Sunflower Vol 6, Louis appears to have done the same in Too Young.... He sets the same mood: we're in the kitchen (the fridge light washes this room white/at the kitchen table), I see your face(moon dances over your good side/face to face), then the rest of the verse kinda mimicks eachother too, but more hopeful. Where in Two Ghost they're tongue-tied, repeating the same stories, not saying what they really mean, in Too Young they can finally have a conversation:

This is everything I've waited for

Now we can finally have a conversation

That I wish we could’ve had before

This is a Home parallel (parallel doesn't mean intentional reference, but this does fit well): "Make a little conversation, So long I've been waiting, To let go of myself and feel alive". These parallels also happen in Canyon Moon by the way Where in Home they're giving into the pressure of being told their love wasn't enough, they're confused, "stumbling in the dark", questioning it "but if you say you feel the same, could we be enough?" (again questioning it in Strong: "is it so wrong, that you make me strong?"), in Too Young he's looking back on that, wishing they could've had what they can finally have now before. I know I'm a bit special with this, but I don't think kitchens and conversations and names of places in songs originate from something literal. Like I don't think he went to Amsterdam and then went to Tokyo to let it go etc. I think a conversation, having a talk, and with that miscommunication as well, are often used as ways to describe what they can and can't say out loud, to the public, the things left unsaid, left unaddressed. "So many things we're not saying [out loud, in front of cameras]" Now they can have that conversation, although still not literal, now with his new music he can say these things. He can make that WMI directors cut. He can sings this damn song about being too young, singing he can't believe he gave into the pressure when they said a love LIKE THIS would never last. Shit he couldn't do before. Or I just think too highly of him and he just had a conversation in the kitchen, fine with me either way.

It's been two years since I’ve seen your face

[sweet creature horse noises] eh pf hmfpf Stunt line? easy direct effect of dude this song is so obvious you gotta put something in there really, the public knowing he and E broke up for 2 years? (here is another ask about this) I mean, he's pretty direct with his songs but none of the lines are as smackbang in your face as the lines that specifically fit E. This for sure isn't a "H and I broke up for 2 years", if he wanted to describe being broken up with him for 2 years I doubt he would describe it as not seeing his face, if they would break up it would be pretty horrible for them as they would always have to see eachothers faces everywhere, on all the records, in any throwback to the band, whatever framed accomplishments in their homes, forever, right? I'd expect some kind of Why do I still see your face everywhere line over this then. There also isn't any 2 year timespan available in the aggressive larrying timeline giving room for this being an honest line, has it ever been quiet for longer than a couple of months? I've seen it explained as a nudge to "two weeks" instead of "two years", but hmpf who knows really, first and foremost this just screams stunty to me. It's also countering the "face-to-face at the kitchen table" line. What is it? Are you face to face or you haven't seen their face for 2 years? Whose face is where? Whose face is hung up high in the gallery?

I'm tryna find some better words to say

Before I let this moment slip away

'Cause now I realize

Welp at least he agrees those "2 years since I've seen your face" weren't the best words, I think this is just filler much.

For more lyric analyses: Perfect Now (short) (full breakdown) - Sunflower vol 6 - Louis’ 28 songs playlist parallels Fine Line - Ever Since New York - Harry’s top 10 songs - Love You Goodbye - Right Now

[jlf23tumble]

rarest of h pairs pls!

What an ask! I have so many, some were already in my bookmarks and some you inspired me to seek out--truly, a hornocopia out there! Before we jump in, though, a caveat, because some things just aren't rare anymore, so my list is pretty much the RAREST of the rare, like, one-offs only (I highly recommend @1drarepairfics and @harryrarepairfest for others in this vein, but you can also find a TON in the ao3 tags for, say, harry/orville, harry/adam, harry/daisy, harry/obama, harry/shawn, all of which *almost* made this cut)--let's go!

Fallen Love, sorrymomther, 640 words, Harry/Mike Wazowski. THANK YOU, @haztobegood!

Sweet Creature, VoidVesper, 735 words, Harry/Miss Piggy. The nipples! GOD TIER FIC!

Innocence and Fucking Gucci, dippedinsatin, 1.4k. Harry/Mitch Marner. Hockey man fic in the club!

Reciprocation, vondrostes, 1.6k, Harry/Mason Haynes. Bodyguard fic (this skirts rarepair only because he's not REALLY famous, but still)!

Rude Boy, catholicschoolgirl, 1.7k, Harry/Rihanna. This series, but this one, where Rihanna pegs Harry!

That's Amore, harryharryharry, 1.9k, Harry/Harris/Alessandro. The way you can totally SEE it!

The Princess of Lights, SirTranscelot, 2.1k, Harry/Davey Havok. Blake OWNS this tag, my favorite, as well as this one!!!

Big in Japan, vondrostes, 2.4k, Harry/Katsuhisa Fujii. Tokyo Harry!

Creature of Desire, vondrostes, 2.5k, Harry/FKA Twigs. These tags!

Friendly Fire, vondrostes, 2.6k, Harry/Nyoh. IF YOU READ NOTHING ELSE, MY GOD, A FAVE!

Something Just Like This, TheMagicWord, 2.7k, Harry/Chris Martin. The way I think they've both read this!

got drunk on you (and now i'm wasted), neonangell, 3.2k, Harry/Noel Gallagher. Uh, YEAH, a wilde read, and the comments are, too!

a goddamn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation, radiodurans, 3.9k, Harry/Bowen Yang. I LOVE THIS ONEEEEEEEEEE!

Man Seeking Wolf, rosemarieanthyme, 5.2k, Harry/Derek Hale. There are maybe four in this tag, tops, most by Chloe, but this is my fave!

Nice Boys Sometimes Kiss Like That, yeah_alright, 7.3k, Harry/David Rose. I am still screaming over the perfection of their voices!

Your God Shaped Hole Tonight, objectlesson, 8.4k, Harry/multiple famouses. THE MASTERPIECE, THE BLUEPRINT, UNPARALLELED!

[ameliora-j]

🐹

‘tis me, hamster

harryharryharry!!

no context ships!

[muffindaddystyles]

harry would be such a soft dom with bloody hard kinks and he’d say things like “oh baby, i’m going to have to punish you for this and it’s going to hurt, but i’ll kiss you all better after i promise” iM MELTING/-?!?,?

I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA WHAT I WROTE BUT I JUST KNOW ITS FILTHY AND FLUFFY

Harry never knew he’d be such a kinky sneak.

He loved having sex. With consent, of both parties and he had quite an edge for exploring his own sexual desires and particular holes— if you know, you know.

With Y/N out of his picture (he wishes he’d have met her before). He never had emotional attachments with his fuck buddies, no-cuddling rule was very stony and staying after a nice fuck however was a fat chance.

He didn’t expect himself to be budded with flowers whose each petal blossomed gradually, when he met Y/N. She had all his firsts with him and he felt terribly cherished, that she gave her kind little heart to him and trusted him with it.

He has promised himself to never break it, whatever it takes him too.

When Y/N bugged him about kinks and rough sexual plays. He was hesitant to say least, walking on eggshells with easing her into it because she was just too delicate and precious for him to hurt her for getting out a blasting orgasm he could simply have by teasing her to tears and then having an amazing sex afterwards. (with Y/N he worries alot, hands diligent and tentative to her needs and limits, eyes conscious of her presence).

Y/N being a stubborn pesky menace wouldn’t leave him alone, pouting and grouching in his lap, not listening to him and rebelling just to get a reaction out of him; she just wanted him to roughen her a tad and choke and spank her peachy bum sore.

The first time. He lavished her to teary cheeks, swollen pink hued lips, and marked her body with purples and rosy lovebites—... it was heaven sent on earth for Y/N.

She felt small, secured and overly shy as Harry took pictures of her tangled in silk sheets of their bed mumbling a ‘mine.’ Under his breath and everytime she remembers the night it sends jitters down her thighs making them clench to shut down the throb in her core.

He fucked her rough and hard, holding onto her hips to leave guaranteed bruises of his grip on her when her limbs gave out sinking her into the pillows, he pounded inside her with deep strokes grinding his pelvis against her sensitive clitoris everytime he bottom out snug insid her, gritting with her face squished in his palm, “Yeah? Can’t take it babylove? Too bad,” He tutted, a knowing smirk adorned his sheeny features, “Gonna use ya however I want.” It was a last nibble to Y/N's sanity turning her into a massive puddle of loud needy moans, gushing on his cock and gasping out in surprise when he slid his fingers against her throbbing clit and circled it in calculated lazy pushes.

.

Riding his thigh. She’d always bury her face in his neck, palms pressed gently to his dense torso and always chase for his kisses when Harry’s fingers that once plays with the baby hair on the nape of her neck – spreads and slips into her hair and yanks her away from his chest and his palm draws and wraps around her throat— having his pressure known but never squeezing it too grimly.

“Choke me, please?” She’d pant, meek whines eliciting through her parted mouth when Harry thrusts his meaty thigh up into her cunt -- feeling her incredibly soaked and sticky panties gliding aside out of his little mindless action.

“My baby wan' me to choke her? Likes daddy’s hands too much, innit pet? Playing with yer soft pussy and yer pretty tits ... likes it when they mark your cute bum, mine?” He’d whisper, squeezing tightly and firmly enough to get her eyes rolling to the back of skull and her pace faster, nibbling onto her pouty lip suckling kisses and pecks on it while his hand helps her fuck herself onto his thigh.

.

Sometimes when they’re watching telly and she’s cradled in his lap, very sleepy and weary sucking onto his fingers – almost falling asleep when Harry pushes his thick digits deeply to nurse the back of his baby’s throat and she'd always whine like a disgruntled kitten, drooling down her chin with yawning whimpers and he’d always tend to her caringly, “Look at you. Sucha messy baby of mine. Lemme clean you up,” His magic cleaning tool always his tongue licking her chin and the corners of her lips until she’s a whimpering and whining mess demanding to have his cock warming her tummy.

.

He encouraged Y/N to be more familiar with her own body and needs, teaching her how to make herself feel good and not cry out of frustration when he’s away.

It started when he ordered her to play with herself and it was an absolute fruitless insistence because she got caught up into chasing the pleasure and that cloudy trip instead of relaxing and enjoying herself -- which melted her into a squirmy huffy mess, only to whine more needily when Harry reached to her rescue. “Lemme show my Angel how to fuck oneself . . . these dainty fingers of yours might not snuggle too deep in, like daddy’s does, tha’s why y'gotta learn to play with yer toys pet. Stuffs y'nice and good.” He crawled atop hers, making his presence known and pinned her hips down with his bicep while smothering kisses into the inside of her quivering thighs, her centre getting slicker and slicker with his warm daunting mouth reaching her swollen folds.

Instead of making her learn he ravished her into a proper crying mess with his tongue and his steady hand wrapped around her wrists guiding her fingers in and out of her with an abrupt speed.

.

Her punishments used to be nominal. He’d be damned if she ended up bruised awfully, because he’s very well aware how pudgy and baby like his lovie’s skin is.

She’s such a soft little peach.

Her punishment eased from getting her cummies denied, refused to be touched while Harry pounds into her cunt not empathising with her needy innocent crying (she’s getting better at her game), her wrists restrained to their bedhead with silk ties and he never forgets to make sure it’s not tight enough to stop the blood flow and make her dizzier than she already’s about to get. “Gonna tell me when ‘s too uncomfy, yeah baby?”, to getting vibrators slipped inside her hole when she acts bratty before going somewhere and all her mind could blur onto is harryharryharry, pushing her into such an intense and needy and clingy heads pace “Oh petal this ones going to hurt your poor bum, did this t'yourself. Good girls don’t get punished d'they now pet?” to getting her asscheeks spanked pink and blushy with whites imprints of his thick lengthy fingers and large palm round the globes of her bum.

Taking care of her afterwards with clean gentle cool baby wipes, “Shhh. Shh moppet knows your little clit's too sensitive, but couldn’t let you go t’sleep all messy now could I?” He’d coo, shushing her whimpers and kissing her knees swiping the drip of gooey cum oozing down her slit, then takes care of her bum, coating a good amount of soothing creams and aloevera gels to calm the sting knowing she'd be very grump in morning and batty with him when all she did is wiggle and shift while taking her online classes and didn’t hear the single damn thing her professor said.

Things only Harry could do to Y/N.

She loves taking part in his kinks as much as he does.

[eveningclouds]

i logged into the e stream finally but all the comments are just harryharryharry 😭 so maybe i'll just get my news from here

[joeys-piano]

Tomarry WIP Summary // I would never write a story in first person, but it's a delight to work with when I'm writing a summary. It gives an immediacy that makes the concept pop, and I'm excited where this is heading because it's been a few months since I've written a soft, sleepy, intimate tomarry moment.

~~~~~~~~~

‘Harry—Harry, Harry, Harryharryharry…’ and when he shifted, I felt the whole of him meeting me somewhere up my back. Until gravity found it funny and now, he’s slouching along with me. And cascading to my shoulders and even past them had he wanted, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t. He was exactly where he wanted, and he was ‘Harry this’ and ‘Harry that’ and ‘Harry here’ with every hiss.

Like a serpent within the leaves or the antlers of a tree, sprawled at its finest for there nowhere it’d rather be. And then he flicked for my attention, then he nuzzled into my neck, and then that weight of adoration began to saunter through a tilt.

Tom looked to me as an answer, and I looked at him like he was trouble. And if he wanted me for any reason—if he wanted me to waver—then his best bet to remember is who’s the hunted and who’s the hunter. Because the mouse upon my shoulder needs to settle before I let him: let him kiss me, hold me and love me before breakfast.

[meetevieinthehallway]

why would you keep something like this for me?

in which she’s been feeling uncomfortable and doesn’t tell harry.

this piece is kind of a mess.

this deals with subjects of harassment, sexual harassment, etc.

-

the rain is bothersome.

it hasn’t been this way.

it’s been sunny this entire week— a comfortable few days of only a gentle breeze and a hot glow casting over, pressing kisses to leaves and warming the ponds. spring is finally fucking developing— growing and sprouting and shifting and the soil and air can’t get enough of the radiating warmth coating everything in sight. the birds have been singing after their long time of being silenced or being absent— joyful and celebratory songs for this unfamiliar, newfound, utter peacefulness—

she thinks the birds have been drowned in the rain.

there’s no brightness, liveliness, there’s only coldness and dampness and she hopes the birds have drowned.

call it pessimism, or utter brutality— but as much as she wants the sunshine and birds chirping placidly she may actually choke out a helpless creature if it starts singing sweetly in her ear.

to say it gently,

she hasn’t had the best day.

to say the least, she’s infuriated— a mix of pure anger but also a pinch of sadness and a bit of disappointment. nothing could go right, and she’s muttering to herself as she storms to her parked car in a heap of red, tears stinging at her eyes because there’s too many emotions right now.

she cries on the way home.

she isn’t a cryer.

but she full out sobs, her cheeks paralleling her blurry windshield and it’s doubling the difficulty of seeing clearly and seeing the road and she misses three turns because she’s that much of a mess.

god, just let me get home.

the rain is pounding on the glass and trying to break through it—trying to soak her cheeks more than her tears already have—and she can’t see and she doesn’t know how or when she makes it home and she doesn’t know why she’s soaking wet.

you left your window open.

another cry rips through her soul.

she feels pathetic.

she feels as if she’s the dumbest person to ever exist— because now she’s miserable and cold and exhausted and she wants to crawl into a hole and never come out. maybe her boss is right— that she can’t do anything right—not even the job she studied brutally for six years—and she despises the look of disappointment on her employer’s face when he sighs and hands her report back to her and shakes his head and shoos her away with a wave of his hand.

she shifts up to meet her eyes in the rearview mirror, and she catches the glaze of letdown in her own irises.

her boss is a straight up asshole.

he’s the boss that every high school and college professor rants of, the unfair one that establishes their fucking superiority complex in the first minute of knowing them. but it’s not a roughness of sophistication— but the exact opposite, one of immaturity and pure ignorance; she doesn’t know how he got so high up in status when he doesn’t even do anything. she swears he is straight out of the devil wears prada, but miranda priestly is a prententious fashion designer and that is kind of to be expected?

she never expected her own boss to be such a prick.

she’s dreamed about her job since she was an early teen—one where she feels accepted and wanted and valid in the workplace—and the level of sorrow she feels that her dream has diminished before her eyes is heartbreaking.

this boss has ruined it for her.

a man who definitely believes women are less than men—evident by the snide, sexist comments and the obvious stares and the groping and sexual harassment of female colleagues who quit days later—because she is one of the now only two women working there and somehow the work gets piled on top of them but the men get to sit in the workroom and watch football games together during their “extended lunch break.”

while her boss joins.

it’s nothing against the male colleagues she works with— they are hard workers and they are intelligent but she works twice as much as them and harder and she still gets paid less.

another tear runs down her cheek.

her fingers are still wrapped around her steering wheel in a vice grip although she’s been pulled in the garage for god knows how long, and her hands are starting to ache and throb.

she wants harry.

harry who isn’t a sexist and who understands she is valid and equal and works hard and well at what she does and—

she wants harry.

her head turns slowly to the left and she sees his car sitting next to hers. her brain is slow and her breathing catches and speeds up as she’s flying herself out the door.

she’s sobbing again, flinging the door open and she doesn’t know the last time she has broken down so extremely— and she isn’t kicking off her shoes as she races through the house.

“lovie?”

she sobs.

she is literally sprinting towards the sound of his voice and she can hear music halt and she rounds a corner and slams into his chest.

“woah—”

she’s sobbing.

harry takes a moment to register how intensely upset she is, and his mouth guppies for a moment before he wraps his arms around her.

“love— are you... are you okay?”

she shakes her head and she’s hysterical and his eyebrows are furrowed over his widened eyes.

“what’s... what’s happened? hey— hey breathe.”

she whines and her hands are shaking and she moves to place them over her face and she feels pathetic.

his hands are on her shoulders as he hold her away from him, his neck bent down and forward as he tries to see her face.

“lovie.”

he says it quite sternly but instantly regrets it because she lets out harsher cries and shakes her head.

he doesn’t know what’s wrong and he doesn’t know how to help and he has never seen her this upset.

“are..— are you hurt? did someone do something?”

head shakes.

“just..” he closes his eyes and exhales. “a bad day?”

her hands fall from her eyes and she sniffles and her mascara is running down her cheeks and he is so alarmed that he pulls her close. her face is coated in tears and redness and the back of her hand comes up to her eye and presses against it as she cries. her arm shakily wraps around harry’s middle as he leans down to press kisses to her temple, gently, shushing her and murmuring just breathe, breathe.

she’s hiccuping and she can’t really breathe and her mind is warped and dizzy and wrapped in harryharryharry and she lets her mind be at ease for a moment.

maybe it’s her brain—she doesn’t know how she is this aware to think of this right now while she’s sobbing into her fiancé—but maybe her brain is letting her breathe in harry to take away some of that pain from inside her being.

she remembers reading that sometimes the brain sends someone to a peaceful place to cope with stress— like a state of shock— and she feels harry take her by the shoulders again and back away and lean down to meet her eyes.

“love, look at me, please?”

her eyes move gently and slowly to meet his and she doesn’t blink. she only sniffles and he pushes his sleeve over his palm. her eyes close when he reaches to swipe away her tears with his sweater, and she feels like a toddler but her heart is thrumming.

“wanna bath.”

it’s the first thing she says and she’s so dazed and out of it when she speaks like a young child— monotonous and sad and harry nods quickly.

“what?”

“a bath. want a bath.”

her finger wipes under her nose and she hiccups.

“okay—.. um, okay i—... let’s get you in the bath.”

—

“i wish i was a kid again.”

the bathroom is warm.

harry drew her bath— so hot that it steamed up the room and fogged up the mirrors but somehow the air is thin and pure enough to let her breathe easy.

her cheeks are still red and it’s breaking harry’s heart every second that the color doesn’t dissipate, because he still doesn’t understand what even happened, what she’s upset over.

he can’t believe he has gone from being so excited to being so terrified in the span of an hour.

all he knows is that he was so unbelievably elated— came home from the studio early and picked up her favorite cupcakes on the way home, because this is the night.

he can feel it.

there was a quirk to his smile and a beautiful tone to his simple humming and a glistening to his eyes—

and to the ring in his left pocket.

harry wasn’t nervous.

he had a couple glasses of wine to loosen him up before she got home, so along with his gentle humming was a soft sway to his body as he practically danced around the kitchen with her voice filling his head.

but now they’re here.

and the ring is forgotten about— for good reason.

harry’s hand gets drenched when he moves his hand downward behind her, cupping his palm to scoop some water and to drape it over her spine. she sighs when he does so, her arms loosening around her knees.

“hm?”

her eyes flutter open and she rests her cheek on her knees, staring at her boyfriend outside of the bathtub.

her heart is throbbing at how careful he’s being.

“wish i was a kid.”

she sniffles after she says it and she’s looking at him so intensely that it causes his eyes to shift to meet hers.

he cups more water and lets it run down her back.

“why?”

she blinks.

“less to worry about. carefree— y’know, h?”

he bites his lip and looks at where her hand is now placed on the side of the tub. his fingers reach to lay on hers, and she sniffles again.

“i wanna quit m’job.”

the water falls between his fingers and runs between the spaces to crash to the bubbles below.

his eyes go wide and he’s startled— because he genuinely doesn’t understand.

“love— you... you wanna quit your job?”

she nods with the saddest smile and swallows as tears resurface.

“no no.. don’t cry. just—” he sits up on his knees and leans over the water, “just explain it to me, sweet.”

she wipes at her cheek with her hand and she feels so dumb and pathetic because her skin is already wet with bath water.

“m’boss doesn’t... treat me right.” she looks up at him. “like—...” she hiccups, “he’s sexist, a-and— i know he’s sexist and a pig and he is so hard on me and i didn’t think it’d be this hard.” she’s shaking her head.

“what do you mean? did...” he’s looking away and racking his brain and he’s trying to comprehend—

his head snaps up.

“lovie.” he says it seriously and he places a hand on her knee as she cries. “don’t... don’t tell me he’s.. touched you, or summat. has he?”

she shakes her head and watches her reflection ripple as her tear hits the water.

“he hasn’t?”

“no, har.” she whispers. “but—... but he’s... grabbed? groped— i dunno the word but...” her bottom lip shakes and she shudders. “all the women that have quit or left did so.. for a reason a-and i’m scared because he... he’ll say things and stare and—”

she breaks down into tears. full fledged— once again.

he doesn’t know what to do.

his heart is racing: at the thought of women being touched inappropriately, of his love being harrassed or even just uncomfortable and that alone? there’s no excuse—

“you... lovie.”

she swallows.

she turns her face to meet his eyes and he’s guppying his mouth and his throat his dry. she feels embarrassed—and she doesn’t know why—none of this is her fault. but there’s a feeling of genuine guilt and nervousness and she can’t pinpoint why.

“how long has this been going on?”

she shrugs.

he swallows.

“since i started.”

her eyes are burning and his are starting to and all he does is nod because he feels so stupid.

he should’ve noticed when she would shrug when he asked how work was or how her day had been— has she really felt uncomfortable for this long of a time? has she really felt unsafe in her work environment for this long?

“since you started.”

he says it to himself mostly, trying to ground his mind into some sort of realization.

“why... why would you keep something like this from me?”

she lets out a soft cry and the water sloshes as her chin falls to her chest. her skin is shaking and she’s tired of feeling so drained and she leans into his shirt when he pulls her to the edge of the tub.

“harry i don’t know.” she’s sobbing now. “i don’t know anything anymore.”

harry’s shirt has soaked through but he’s leaning over her and pressing kisses to her hair because he doesn’t know what to do.

“thought i could be strong a-and—...” she swallows. “ignore it? i—”

“y-you can’t ignore something like this.” he pulls back and turns her so she’s looking at him in the eyes. “this is serious, love, i-i wish you hadn’t let it blow over.” he whispers.

he knows it’s from fear.

he knows that she is only justifying it because her own head is terrified— coupled on how society is nowadays. luckily it’s bettering—all the awareness and movements and empowerments—but the media and the world still think women can be pushed around and objectified.

he feels nauseous.

“well, you’re gonna leave, okay?”

he’s rubbing her cheek now.

“and i’m gonna do anything and everything to make sure this guy gets ruined for what he’s done.”

—

“let me care for you.”

he whispers it.

she’s tracing her fingertip along his collarbone as he whispers it and disrupts the sound of silence in their moonlit room.

he can’t sleep.

every time he closes his eyes his brain won’t fog and transform into colors and waves and images— he’s just staring at a black, blank canvas and helplessly trying to rest. he just isn’t comfortable— even with her body wrapped up in his hold and her calves tangled amongst his legs and the knowledge in his mind that she is safe.

they had shared tears on the side of the bathtub and he had held her over the edge and caressed at her skin and he had lifted her out and to their bed.

she looks up towards his face, slowly, sleepily.

her finger is still running down his clavicle and his chest.

she looks down towards his stomach from where her cheek is pressed against her pillow, nibbling on her lip.

she feels bad for gently coercing him to stay awake with her own lack of sleep— but it makes her heart swell multiple sizes at his care and his love for her.

“what?”

he smiles small.

“i am a man.” he whispers it and she furrows her eyebrows. “and you are a woman.”

“glad your observational skills are this good, h.”

he chuckles and shakes his head. his eyes are glimmering and they flick around her face.

“i am a man and you are a woman.” his hand reaches to catch hers at his chest. he holds it carefully, bringing her fingers to his lips and she smiles small. “i understand that we are equals. you can get another job after this one, or you can just... let me care for you.”

she blinks. “what?”

“i can take care of us, if you want.”

she bites her lip. “i don’t wanna take your money, hazza—”

“hey.” harry whispers it and he leans his head forward so his forehead is touching hers. “what is mine is what’s yours.”

her eyes look at him.

“yeah?” he mumbles, awaiting any response.

he does it gently— the way that he leans forward lazily and pushes his lips against hers. she moans softly the minute he delves into her— drinking her in and caressing her lips and she doesn’t know the last time she’s felt so at peace—

felt so loved.

she pulls away and her head is dizzy when he follows her lips, addicted to her kiss.

“really?”

his eyes flutter open.

he nods slowly, his hand coming up to brush a hair away from her forehead.

“i have a ring in my jean pocket to prove it.”

her eyes widen.

[moonchildstyles]

Oh jeez, I forgot to tell you, I took art history for my first semester last year, and I was learning different art techniques, and EVERY TIME the word chiaroscuro came up, I thought if you🥺🥺🥺 and I always got the urge to reread it. Same thing with renaissance, that whole era I was learning, my mind was like harryharryharry. Ugh, the impact you have on my daily life is powerful💞💞💞🥰🥰🦦

omg ?????? STOP IT🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 I cannot believe that made u think of me and my story🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 thank u so much for reading it at all and like just enjoying it like I do🥺

[hesnothet]

Beach Resort with H

H makes you feel much better after you get emotional during your vacation😔 this is my first time posting any writing here so pls be nice🥺 (or not😳🤪)

You sigh deeply as you enjoy the sun setting on the ocean from the patio bed provided by the resort. The sky was revealing beautiful colors and you couldn’t help but get emotional. Your eyes watered.

You were so grateful for everything in your life. Especially Harry.

Your head was on his hard stomach while he played with your hair. You kept thinking about how much you loved him and suddenly tears we’re rolling down your face. You quickly brush them away but one was too quick and landed on his stomach. You slowly brush it away and his hand stops moving.

“Is that a tear on my abs?”

“What abs?” You roll your eyes.

Your head starts moving up and down as he laughs and you can picture his dimples. That alone makes you smile.

His ring clad fingers make their way to your chin and make you face him.

“Why are you crying?” He pouts.

You sit straight up and place your hand on his stomach. The sun had done its job the last couple of days and he looked irresistible with his white swimming trunks.

You start running your nails around his fern tattoos but he quickly grab your wrist.

“Don’t.” He shakes his head curtly but you just smile cheekily.

“Well since you obviously need some cheering up to do, I got to solution.”

He gets up, stretches his muscles and suddenly he has you dangling down his back. You let out a scream but you cover your mouth quickly as he holds your legs by your kneecaps. Your head is facing his ass and you feel all the blood rushing down to your face.

“HarryHarryHarry,” you ramble. “Let me down right now. I swear to God Harry.”

He just keeps laughing.

He gets closer to the water; the dark cold water. And you immediately close your arms around his waist.

“If you throw me in there you’re going down with me.”

You’re both on the edge and he’s still cracking up.

He finally puts you on your feet and cups your cheeks, his thumb caressing you. His green eyes look even prettier with the fading sun hitting them behind you.

“I love you. That’s why I was teary,“ you shrug.

“I love you more, crybaby,” he murmurs. You shove his shoulder playfully but he pulls you forward. He leans in and his lips touch yours. “Uh uh” you try to say while he kisses you.

“Yes.”

“Nope.”

“Shush, yes I do.”

You just shake your head and you feel his teeth hit yours as you both laugh. You lean in harder and you feel his nose nudge yours as his tongue slips into your mouth. You moan and in a heartbeat you’re being carried, his large hands cupping your ass.

He walks backwards until the back of his knees hit the bench placed behind you both. You both fall with an umph and your breaths get more ragged.

“Wait.” You pull his head back by pulling on his hair, making him moan.

“What if someone comes out here?”

“Oh now you care? You didn’t care when we were home and my mom could’ve barged in at any moment.”

“Ok well…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep you quiet. No one will know what we’re doing.” He traces your lips and gently pushes his index finger inside your mouth. You moan around his finger.

“Yeah, that’ll keep you quiet huh?”

“Mhmm.”

“Good girl.” He slips in his middle finger next. You feel his rings pressing against your bottom lip making you moan louder. You feel his dick getting harder as he finger fucks your mouth.

“You’re such a good girl for me,” he whispers. His other hand goes to your hips as you start grinding against his growing cock.

He hooks his two fingers under your tongue and brings you closer to his mouth. His tongue traces your upper lip. You shudder as you crave his touch.

“Let’s see how wet you are for me y/n.”

When he pulls his finger out of your mouth, a string of saliva lands on his chest. You watch it slowly slide down to his stomach.

It’s gotten darker now and the only source of light is coming from behind, where the beds are, and the moon. Harry stares at you as he pulls down the upper part of your dress, untying your bikini top.

Your hard nipples catch his attention and it somehow makes them harder. He runs his wet fingers around your pebbled nipples. You moan quietly as you try to keep grinding on him. It’s so hard to concentrate.

His hand keeps going down until he goes under the skirt of your dress.

“Mmm. Your bikini is drenched baby.”

“Hm I wonder why,” you feign innocence. He just laughs under his breath. You try to clamp your thighs shut to get relief but his thighs stop you. His cold rings make you flinch as he goes down under your bikini. His fingers slide between your lips and you flinch as he nudges your clit.

“Fuck y/n. You’re so fucking wet for me.”

You whimper as he rubs his ring glad finger up and down your pussy.

“Fuck I love the noises that come out of your mouth. Fuck it if anyone catches us.”

He slides one finger in slowly and you can’t help the loud moan that slips through your lips. You lean your face forward and clamp your teeth around his shoulder once you feel a second finger inside you.

“You’re so tight y/n.”

You just moan. It’s all you can do. You start kissing his neck but suddenly you’re pulled back by your hair. Fuck. You moan his name. He knows how much you love having your hair pulled.

Your neck is exposed and he starts sucking on your neck, biting your collarbones. He keeps fingering your pussy; slowly at first but gradually picking up the pace.

His mouth makes his way down to your tits and once he closes his mouth around one nipple he adds a third finger. You let out a loud “Oh!” which turns into a moan when the hand in your hair suddenly fills your mouth.

He stops sucking on your nipple and roughly says, “I know I said ‘Fuck it.’ to you being loud but I take it back. If someone comes out here right now, I’m not gonna stop and that wouldn’t be too good for me.”

“Yes sir.” He just fucks me harder.

Now there’s 4 fingers in your mouth keeping you quiet and 3 up your pussy. His mouth goes back to devouring your nipples and all you can do is groan into his fingers and roll your eyes. Everything feels so good, you feel your orgasm getting there.

His fingers inside your pussy suddenly go still and your throbbing clit is being pressed by his palm and you wanna scream. You feel his bulky rings deep inside you as he starts fingering you again. Slowly. Knuckles deep inside you.

“Harry I’m gonna cum. I’m so close.”

He then frees your nipples and mouth and his free arm circles around your waist and holds you as he sits straight up and arches your back. Now he has better leverage to add his 4th finger inside you. And that’s exactly what he does.

“Oh my God Harry. I’m so full.”

He groans and bites his lip as he stares at you.

“We both know you can take more than this baby,” he smirks.

You just whimper as an answer because you know he’s right. He’s getting faster and sloppier as he gets tired but he doesn’t seem to care; he keeps going. You grab the armrest close to you and his forearm. You’re going to come. It’s right there. So close, you can feel it.

“Fuckfuckfuck, I’m gonna come Harry.“

“Come for me y/n. Let it go baby.”

He keeps fucking you even though you hold his forearm still.

“Fuck. Harry!” He slams his mouth against yours and starts rubbing your clit as you keep cumming.

You shudder as the orgasm washes over you. Your thighs twitching trying to clamp together. Harry slows down his fingers and pulls them out and sucks them clean.

“Always taste so good.” He smiles as he places you next to him. Your legs are jelly and you can’t move them at all. You look at him dreamily and he just smiles and kisses your forehead.

“Thank you baby. That was amazing. Fuck.”

“My pleasure as always,” he winks as he pulls the straps back to its place, covering your boobs.

You slide down until you’re on your knees, facing his lap. You look up at him smiley.

“Your turn.”

[gryffindormischief]

requested by @magictookourmemories

also available on FF and Ao3

____

It’s an odd feeling, getting exactly what you want and still feeling a conflicting tug. That’s exactly what she feels, every time she leaves to catch a portkey with the rest of the team. The minute that twist forms in her center as she grips the bit of rubbish, it’s like a thread tying her to home, to him , is about to snap.

It won’t, they won’t, but there’s an ever whirring corner of her mind on an endless cycle of HarryHarryHarry she can’t escape. Almost as if the perpetual remembrance will protect him until she can see him with her own eyes, hold him in her arms.

There’s a bit of guilt too - self inflicted of course because Harry’s not got a selfish bone in his body. Not when it comes to her. She’s had to convince him that she wants to know everything, what he wants, needs, thinks - that it’s not selfish to tell her it all. The guilt comes nonetheless, when she leaves and finds herself the subject of chanted cheers and raving headlines while he’s shuttled off to some dreary, gloomy crime-scene. But it’s what has to be done. He’s a trainee still, and even if he wasn’t Harry’s infamous hero complex hardly vanished with the beginning of his twentieth year on earth. She’s barely got more flexibility, being on a winning team is exactly what she wants, and yet every win has a tinge of bittersweet. Not that she’d ever say so to anyone - particularly Gwenog who’d have her hide for the sentiment.

They write, she and Harry do, floo when possible. He sends silly gifts and she buys postcards and cheap lipstick for the sole purpose of pressing flirty kisses to the back.

She sends the first four in quick succession, after she’s hopped her way across the continent for some exhibition games and finally Harry makes it to the sixth game, slipping his way past security and dragging her into a broom closet. He’s flushed and she’s ecstatic with victory.

He’s shoved back against the dingy wall while she begins to reacquaint herself with every gasp and sigh she’s ever drawn from his chapped lips when he murmurs. “I got your post.”

Ginny pulls away just enough to see the blush on his cheeks, the pleased tilt of his lips. “Did I embarrass you?”

His hair’s grown since she left, almost lank with the weight of it, dragging across his forehead and that faded scar. Ginny cups his jaw and he answers, “Nah, I have a collage going - lip side out, I should clarify.”

“Works of art they are,” Ginny murmurs against his mouth.

Harry’s hands draw her closer, though their lips still hover, not touching, not yet. “I’m quite the aficionado, I have to say.”

“And what do your co-workers have to say?” Ginny asks, nose grazing his, the anticipation nearly suffocating. Sometimes she thinks the wait makes the final touch all the better - the sweetness of that first gasp of air after a deep dive.

“A bit jealous - save Ron,” Harry laughs, his eyes crinkling behind fingerprinted spectacles, “He either shakes his head or bares his teeth a bit and growls.”

“What a wanker.”

“He’s alright,” Harry says, quiet.

“Enough about my brother, eh?” Ginny answers, their lips only just brushing.

Non verbally, Harry seems to agree, but it’s not enough time. It never is. Just stolen moments in broom cupboards. At times, at her worst moments, she thinks maybe that’s all they’ll ever have since that’s all they’ve ever had . But it’s different now, she knows, reminds herself. They’ve got a lifetime.

Still, sometimes it seems a lifetime could be shorter than she’d like, than anyone would. He’s been in Mungo’s too many times to count and really she’s not much better. Though nobody actually wants her dead. Except that arsehole Tutshill Chaser who’s threatened by anybody of the feminine persuasion that can handle a quaffle.

However much she hates leaving when he’s traipsing to kingdom come chasing down some new dark threat, it’s lightyears worse when she’s home, waiting, without the distraction of daily games.

Training at least, keeps her busy enough, and that photo they snapped on their holiday at the beach stays tucked in her locker where Harry can wink at her over the rim of dark sunglasses. She gets her fair share of ribbing - equal parts about how she’s gone soft and just how wild the Man -Who-Lived gets in the bedroom.

And some days, like today, she slogs home with sore muscles to Cassanova blinking at her impatiently. After tossing a few treats his way, Ginny accepts the owl’s burden and finds Harry’s messy scrawl on the yellowed parchment.

Home late. Too many reports and a certain red head has a dinner with in-laws. Perhaps I was hasty about your idea with the ever-itch powder.

Love, HJP

He doodled something like a snitch in the bottom corner and a couple of stick figures - presumably the two of them - battling it out on an imaginary pitch. That’s when she decides he’s too adorably endearing to be shut up in the Ministry alone and makes her way to the little Indian place down the street.

Soon enough she’s striding through the empty halls of the Ministry, deliciously spiced meal in hand, braid bouncing on her shoulder. Harry startles and nearly flips his chair when she presses a kiss to his ear and then their food’s forgotten.

His breath smells of stale, burnt coffee and she’s sporting eau de bear crawl and yet neither seems to mind. It’s warm and easy and home .

Bodies do require sustenance and soon her stomach protests the accidental fasting with a long, loud grumble. Then they’re cozied up on the floor of his office, stealing bites, swapping easy gossip and never breaking contact.

Ginny’s just snatched one of his last prawns with expert use of her chopsticks and Harry looks up at her, eyes wide and lips tilted in a gentle smile. “Love you.”

She slants her mouth over his, long and sweet, then murmurs, “Love you.”

The cycle starts again after that stolen night, he’s off to Eastern Europe and she’s selected for a series of exhibition games, arriving home three days before Harry’s impending homecoming. However tiring gameplay is, the press afterward is infinitely worse. She does her best, combing out the rats nest of her hair, swiping chapstick over her lips, pulling on a fresh team jacket. Today she’d dropped her chapstick in the toilet and decided against using that particular item again, dragging the red lipstick on instead. She could tease Harry with photos from the junket later.

Now, she’s ready to collapse in a puddle and perhaps have some very grown up dreams about her Harry’s svelte little bum.

Tired as she is, Ginny nearly collapses in fright when said bum seems to have appeared as an apparition in the kitchen. Followed by the rest of Harry as he rises from his crouch examining the contents of the fridge.

He turns. “Need to have a shop.”

Ginny lifts a brow. “Ron’s turn - he ate it all and left for the coast with the Grangers.”

“He really uses them as - ” Harry freezes, “Your - your lips.”

It takes her a moment, a barely there swipe with the tip of her tongue, to realize exactly why Harry’s brain half shut down. “You’ve never seen the real thing, eh?”

“I uh- no,” Harry grinds out, gaze never leaving her lips even as he inches closer.

Ginny draws him close, fingers clenching in the front of his undershirt. “Like it?”

He bobs his head in a nod. “Like it.”

Pulling him toward the den, Ginny whispers, “I’ll show you how I make those lovely prints.”